Chapter 450: General Will, Kill a Person

"Absolutely impossible?"

The orc Bassaka repeated the words of the white-haired youth.

"That is correct, absolutely impossible."

The white-haired youth reaffirmed his statement without a hint of hesitation.

"It is because of the knowledge you possess, isn't it? The time has not yet come for me to know, and once I do, I will lose a portion of what I could otherwise accomplish."

Showing neither surprise nor curiosity, Bassaka spoke in a casual tone.

"Indeed, it is not yet your time to know. After all, it is not exactly a pleasant thing; beyond losing a measure of power and learning a secret, there is little else we can do at this moment."

Smiling as he replied, the white-haired youth clapped his hands.

"Ha, very well. At least when all the nodes are constructed and our ultimate goal is achieved, everyone will naturally possess this knowledge and be able to do the things that were lost."

Bassaka did not press further; his control over his own curiosity was merely another part of serving the plan.

"Precisely. Now that the souls of all the orcs in the Bloodfang Empire have been integrated into the Void through this node, the attention of the entire continent will be drawn here. The allied offensive will arrive soon, and I leave that part to you. I am going to deal with that anomalous point."

The white-haired youth was satisfied with this attitude. He communicated his consciousness to the structures manifesting from the Void, handing over the majority of control to the orc Bassaka while retaining only a sliver of power for himself.

"Very well, leave it to me. The potential of the orcs goes far beyond this. 'Rational Berserk' was meant to be a power we all shared, yet for the sake of status or ambition, this talent inherent in our bloodline was sealed away by the shamanic arts."

"This shackle has been passed down through the generations. I once promised to break it, but even in this era, it remains. Now is the time for me to fulfill that vow."

Standing outside the gates of the Bloodfang Empire's capital, Bassaka closed his eyes. His will permeated the towers that had pierced the interface between the Void and reality, mobilizing the power of the Void and projecting it into every sentient being within the empire.

From the moment the ossuary shattered the intersection of the Void and matter and the anchor was fully set, the souls of every sentient being within the Bloodfang Empire were pulled by the anchor's power, connected to these towers, and merged into a single entity.

As the creator of these towers, the white-haired youth possessed the power to influence souls through them, a power he could delegate to others. At this moment, it was being wielded by the orc Bassaka.

"By the way, have you identified who that anomalous point is?"

The power of the Void seeped into every orc, altering certain components within their bodies. The artificially imposed restrictions in their bloodlines gradually unraveled, and Berserk—the talent innate to the orcs—returned to its original state.

While channeling this power, Bassaka took a moment to ask the white-haired youth for his thoughts on the Alastair anomaly.

"I already have a candidate. The Archbishop of the Nightfall Church, that being called Wang Yu. In truth, I believe it is him. He has no past. I have been watching him since I last met with Damian, but no matter what I do, I cannot find a single trace of this person from several years ago."

"Everything that exists leaves a trace. Even we, despite burying our pasts and the truth through various means, will one day be unearthed. Yet, as an expert in this field, I have investigated another being and found absolutely nothing."

"Nothing at all. Tsk, tsk. Nothing, as if he never existed. Truly terrifying. Another Abyss creature? Who knows."

The white-haired youth shook his head as he spoke. Although his words still carried a trace of amused reflection, his eyes had grown deep and unfathomable, his true thoughts hidden away.

"If it truly is another Abyss, that would be troublesome. But it doesn't seem like it. Instead, it feels like a being similar to us, doesn't it? I recall you mentioning that Book of Night to me."

Orc Bassaka paused for a moment. Within the empire, some of the souls connected to the network had accepted the "Utopia" plan and chosen to join willingly, partly due to their bloodlines being liberated. Yet, others refused, resisting Bassaka's manipulation with their own wills.

These rebellious wills required Bassaka to spend time resolving them, and in this gap, he chatted with the white-haired youth.

"Indeed. How could an Abyss creature be like this? It is a very interesting existence. The words he wrote in the scripture, though few, coincide with our own in certain respects. It is just that he is too small and too powerless."

"However, I must admit that the newly formed Nightfall Church is doing quite well because of him and the deity behind him. Can you imagine? Even members of the Lightless Cult are able to integrate into it. Such strong inclusivity—all sorts of races mixed together, quite... simple?"

"When I handed that dagger, specifically designed to slay the Night Deity, to Damian, the struggle in his eyes was, to be honest, far too obvious. He probably doesn't want to give up his current life either."

The white-haired youth replied casually. Magic power surged, forming a translucent door in the air. He searched for the spatial coordinates in his memory and linked the door to that location.

"Doing well, is he? Then will he choose to give up? You knew he was hesitant, yet you still gave him that dagger. There is no spare for that blade."

Orc Bassaka gathered the wills of those souls who had agreed to join the "Utopia" plan and sent them into the Void, stirring up a tide that mimicked spiritual pollution yet differed in nature. He sent this tide into the souls that were still resisting, washing over their wills and twisting their thoughts. This was the momentum of the great trend; it could not be turned by individual will.

Under the weight of the vast numerical disparity, the resisting souls were gradually worn down. While the collective did not collapse, the desire to resist and the persistence of their wills gradually blurred until they became one and the same.

Having nearly finished his task, Bassaka asked the final question before the white-haired youth departed.

"He will not. It is too brief. Perhaps a hundred or a thousand years would be enough to change his mind and abandon our original plan, but a mere moment of shock and a short year or two? How could that shake a conviction and persistence prepared for so long? That is inherently unequal."

The white-haired youth seemed confident. He did not believe Damian would choose to give up. Just as he explained, on what grounds? A mere year or two of comfort? Human hearts are fickle, but not to that extent.

As his words fell, he stepped into the door that had appeared before him, and his figure vanished.

"When it comes to the human heart, I am still inferior to you."

Bassaka muttered to himself. He no longer concerned himself with the "anomalous point" the white-haired youth was responsible for, turning instead to distribute the souls that had reached "great harmony," allowing them to return to their own bodies. Brought back with them were the knowledge, magic, Void, and alchemy of this era.

One by one, bodies that seemed to have been in a deep sleep opened their eyes, stood up, and felt the shackles in their bloodlines unraveled. They began to walk toward the posts where they would contribute. From this moment on, they shared a common goal, a "Utopia" that they all expected and approved of.

And at this moment, the teams sent by the major races to investigate and confirm the situation in the orc nation would come to understand how terrifying a legion could be when Berserk was no longer tied to reason, and when their "minds" were connected on a special level.

In a small human kingdom whose name few even knew, a door opened, and the white-haired youth stepped out, his feet landing on the lush grass.

"Crunch."

"Baa~"

"What a truly pleasant environment..."

Walking across the grass with footsteps that were not particularly loud, the white-haired youth arrived at a small valley. The grass was lush, the vegetation was thriving, and a stream flowed from the distance, passing by the meadow and the vegetable patch.

Several fat sheep with fluffy wool nearby were startled by the sudden appearance of the white-haired youth. They let out panicked cries and ran back into the sheepfold beside a small wooden cabin at the end of a stone path.

Reflecting as he walked, he reached the door of the cabin. The white-haired youth's gaze rested on two neatly kept tombstones in the small garden by the entrance, and then he knocked on the door.

"Creak..."

The wooden door slowly opened. A man who appeared to be middle-aged, though his face was somewhat weathered, opened the door for the white-haired youth.

"Hi, long time no see. Your skills have improved even further, Ethan Harris. Though, surely you haven't forgotten me? You gave me quite a start."

The man called Ethan Harris by the white-haired youth flickered in expression when he heard the name. Then, he opened the door fully, signaling for the other to enter.

The white-haired youth followed him into the house naturally. Behind him, the space seemed as if it had been slashed; if one looked closely, one would see many distorted lines, as if they had been severed and repaired, yet there remained a minute difference. The few leaves that had just drifted down from the fruit tree in the courtyard had already vanished without a trace.

"Speak. What do you need me to do? I owe you a favor."

Ethan did not entertain the white-haired youth, who had found a wooden chair to sit on. He simply walked to the bed, pulled out a box from underneath, opened it, took out the contents, and then walked to the only cabinet in the cabin, saying.

"Let us set that aside for now. You chose not to join us back then, and we did not force you. But now that all these years have passed, are you able to understand what we were pursuing?"

The white-haired youth did not rush to state his purpose, instead asking the other about certain matters.

"Yes, I can understand your thoughts from back then. You saw much further than I did."

Ethan's gaze lingered on a photograph on the cabinet, in which two beings were already buried in the graves by the door.

"At the time, you were obsessed with the ultimate swordsmanship; it is natural that you could not understand. These losses are what we have always sought to erase. I have come this time to use that favor to have you kill someone for me."

"Who?"