Tired.
Very tired.
Extremely tired.
Although he was mentally prepared, when the Butcher really assigned work to Shawn, he still felt a slight physical discomfort.
Because the Butcher told him to carry corpses.
All sorts of strange and bizarre corpses, wrapped in black bags, extremely heavy, some even needing to be cut up and bagged separately. He saw the high walls for the first time, a fortress stretching to the horizon, traversing mountain peaks, following the earth's veins, until the distant end in that gray fog.
"High walls, great bulwark, Great Wall."
The Butcher was very pleased with Shawn's work, and while watching the hundred-meter-high walls, he slowly said, "It was built in the Fourth Epoch, designed by an unnamed master."
"It's part of the miracle of destiny."
"This master is also a soul from the Otherworld, from a place called Rome."
Great Wall, great bulwark.
The name made Shawn's mind a bit hazy, he couldn't help but think of his hometown.
And the Butcher's next words made Shawn unable to resist asking, "What about that master now?"
The soul from the Otherworld in his hometown.
Shawn had a strong intuition that the person who designed this Great Wall might have come from the same place as him.
Though perhaps not from the same era.
"Perished long ago," the Butcher said calmly.
He gestured for Shawn to pick up the heavy corpse bag and continued, "The Great Wall has three sections, completed over more than three hundred years. The most majestic section, the great bulwark, was built by a Sage from an unknown land."
Shawn gazed at the towering fortress in the distance, feeling as insignificant as a speck of dust before it.
"Let's go."
"I'll take you to meet your mentor." The Butcher patted Shawn's shoulder, almost making him stumble, and slowly said, "She has a library over there, and since you've mastered the reading trick, you can quickly learn basic General Knowledge."
"But be careful, she has a bad temper."
Shawn was now in a giant monastery-like majestic building complex, the surrounding peaks seemingly erased, making way for high towers, each over a hundred meters tall. At the distant end was a black obelisk reaching the clouds, Shawn couldn't fathom its height as part of it already pierced the cloud layer.
Everything here seemed like a wonder.
Something beyond ordinary human ability, just like the Butcher said, this place is a world of miracles.
There are few living people here.
Shawn was already starting to accept reality, accepting everything he saw before him.
"This year's gray disaster just ended, so everyone is busier than usual." The Butcher led Shawn through a corridor suspended over three hundred meters long, about a hundred meters high from the ground. From here, overlooking the earth, countless tombstones stretched several kilometers away, making Shawn's scalp tingle.
The dusty corridor bore dark marks, resembling dried blood stains. Although cleaned regularly, a chilling cold still lingered.
This is the domain of Death.
At the end of his sight was an ancient door, carved with symbols Shawn couldn't understand, like a tangled serpent ring or a maze. The Butcher's expression turned cautious, knocking on the door lightly, "I want to see Lady Hecate."
A gray-white mist appeared before Shawn, then transformed into a hazy female figure. Her icy gaze watched them and slowly said, "The lady has been expecting you."
The Butcher respectfully nodded, "Alright."
Seeing Shawn still looking at the attendant, the Butcher pulled Shawn aside and whispered, "They are Lady Hecate's attendants."
"Undead Banshees."
"There are more dead than living here, you'll get used to it over time."
Almost like ghosts.
Shawn didn't feel afraid, just a bit curious.
The Undead Banshee led the way ahead. Upon entering, the Butcher seemed a bit more restrained too. This was a sprawling majestic building, with long corridors adorned with strange maze-like reliefs, and many artifacts symbolizing Death. The circular corridor was about two hundred meters long, like navigating a labyrinth, leading them a great distance.
Finally.
When light appeared ahead, clarity unfolded before Shawn's eyes.
"Lady."
"They have arrived." The Undead Banshee's figure dissolved into gray-white mist.
This was a circular hall about a hundred meters in diameter, with bright flames illuminating the walls. Fifteen-meter-high bookshelves neatly lined up, filled with countless books, although Shawn couldn't read a single word on them.
In the center of the hall was a luxurious desk, where an elderly woman was reading. She dressed simply and slowly raised her head, her gaze passing over the Butcher and landing on Shawn.
"Sit down." Lady Hecate lightly raised her hand.
Then she fixed her gaze on Shawn's monocle with a gentle voice, "Confusion."
It seemed everyone here recognized the monocle Shawn wore.
The elderly lady stood up, her back slightly hunched, and walked slowly to Shawn, "Young man, where is your fear?"
Fear?
Her words momentarily baffled Shawn, so he asked in confusion, "Fear?"
"Yes." Ms. Hecate picked up the glasses beside her. After putting them on, she looked like a stern old lady and said solemnly, "Fear."
"And where is your fear and dread?"
Shawn's mind buzzed for a moment; he understood what she meant, fear, the emotion of fear.
Any normal person would feel fear after going through all this.
Just the butcher beside Shawn, this fierce and intimidating man resembling a giant, most people would feel a hint of fear upon seeing him.
But Shawn didn't.
Ms. Hecate sat back down and removed her glasses, speaking softly, "You've lost your fear."
Shawn cautiously asked, "Is that a serious problem?"
He currently felt no abnormal sensations; if it weren't for her reminder, he might not have even noticed.
"Not serious."
Ms. Hecate thought for a moment, then said, "But without fear, you'll become impulsive and reckless."
Shawn pondered her words.
"Also, because you lack fear, you'll adapt to this world better than others." Ms. Hecate gazed at Shawn, commanding, "Remove the confusion!"
Ah?
Shawn's expression showed some hesitation.
He glanced at the butcher beside him, who, as his guide, despite looking fierce, was the most friendly person he had encountered so far during their brief interactions.
The butcher noticed Shawn's hesitation and nodded slightly.
Shawn's hand trembled slightly as he hesitated and removed the confusion from his eyes.
The next moment.
Everything he saw before him twisted and transformed, reality and illusion alternated and changed like flickering cut scenes. Ms. Hecate before him was surrounded by a deep gray mist, her appearance constantly changing — young, middle-aged, old — three different heads emerged within the gray mist.
Three heads and six arms.
Impossible to gaze upon!
Ms. Hecate's attire was no longer simple; she wore a luxurious black silk robe covered in countless intricate silver runes, which seemed like writhing lines. They were knowledge, living knowledge, surrounding this lady, adhering to her body, spreading along her snow-white skin.
The expansive black robe was imprinted with endless knowledge, merging with Ms. Hecate's body as if it were a black curtain spreading in all directions, while the bricks underfoot had vanished, replaced entirely by the connecting black hem of the robe, covering the entire hall, extending in all directions, finally merging into the towering bookshelves.
The books on the shelves changed, emitting faint glows and evolving into various strange visions, some exuding black mist, some swirling with ethereal shadows, some writhing like living creatures. As the pages turned, they revealed a bloody mouth full of serrated teeth, dark red structures resembling fleshy nodules spreading inside the shelves, attempting to erode other books and seize their knowledge, but were isolated by invisible forces.
Distinct hazy shadows appeared, similar to the banshee attendants Shawn had previously seen, lacking any physical form, busily shuttling between the tall bookshelves.
When Shawn saw them, they also saw Shawn.
Their cold, pale, expressionless faces turned towards Shawn's position, their gray eyes devoid of any emotional fluctuation, calmly watching him.
Shawn seemed to feel a hint of fear, but the fear was fleeting, disappearing in an instant.
Instinctively, he turned to look at the butcher beside him, then froze, as he saw a towering creature that seemed not human, with bulging muscles exceeding human proportions, and the butcher's face — although he turned away quickly — Shawn caught a glimpse of a grotesque, terrifying, beast-like face.
That was not a human's visage!
"Enough." The butcher's voice held a hint of anger, and before Shawn could react, the confusion was already back on his eyes.
The butcher rose, staring directly at Ms. Hecate ahead, his expression no longer respectful as before but instead deeply ominous, as if suppressing anger. He spoke in a low voice, "Madam! He still needs to adapt to everything here."
"Madam!"
"I am his guide!"
Shawn again felt the piercing coldness he experienced the first time he met the butcher.
Ms. Hecate's gaze was profound as she watched the butcher before her. After a moment of silence, she said, "Okein, you're being foolish again."
"He will eventually see the true essence of this world."
"Someone who needs confusion to cloak their inspiration, you can't change anything."
The butcher's figure, unaware of when, was already standing in front of Shawn, blocking Ms. Hecate from view, calmly stating, "That's for the future."
"For now, I am his guide!"
Shawn couldn't see Ms. Hecate ahead, but the butcher before him made him feel as if facing an abyss.
Before advancing to a Transcendent, Shawn only felt the butcher was terrifying, but now, even with confusion, he found breathing difficult, feeling as though the air was as stagnant as death.
"Let's go." The butcher turned around.
Shawn couldn't help but gasp for air, as the stagnant air flowed again, his heartbeat suddenly soaring.
But just as the two turned to leave.
Ms. Hecate's voice sounded again, hauntingly, "He can come here for three hours a day."
"How much he learns depends on his talent."
The butcher halted his steps, turned around, his attitude shifting dramatically. His expression became respectful again, even slightly fawning, as he bowed slightly and lowered his head, saying, "Thank you, madam."
.........