Chapter 2020: No Fire

So, where was the fire?

Wasn't it burning in the Land of Self-Abandonment?

This place, however, was far more magnificent than he had imagined.

Lifting his arm from the armrest, Fu Qian examined the exquisite, intricate patterns on the dark cyan-black background.

Although the patterns were complex, he could instantly tell that the core element was a hand, its middle finger swelling into the shape of an eye.

It was undoubtedly the Emblem of the King of the Abandoned Prison—the truest symbol of the Tyrant's power.

Even the dimensions of this seat were perfectly tailored; it was an exact fit for his body after activating Mythical Form.

There was just one minor issue: why was he sitting?

When he came in, he had been fully geared up for combat, ready to throw down at a moment's notice.

Fu Qian stood up from the throne and walked forward step by step. Beneath his feet lay a bizarre blue-black velvet.

This place was truly quite different from what he had pictured.

The Land of Self-Abandonment, or the Abandoned Prison—based on his original understanding, there was a high probability that this was the King of the Abandoned Prison's domain, a divine kingdom of sorts.

Given the style of power he had encountered along the way, coupled with the title of "Tyrant," even if there were palaces or temples in here, shouldn't their design be far more stark and grim?

The place before him, though so grand it seemed almost impossible to exist in the mortal world, was honestly a bit too excessively ornate.

In the blink of an eye, Fu Qian had crossed more than half of the magnificent Great Hall.

Along the way, he not only clearly saw various decorations sharing the same style as the towering throne behind him, but also noticed that the overall layout was equally labyrinthine.

Spiral staircases, raised platforms, sweeping draperies... It pushed classical elegance to its absolute limits and was undeniably awe-inspiring.

Yet it lacked any murderous edge, inevitably making one associate the Tyrant with being licentious and devoid of the Dao.

Even though it was completely empty inside.

Beyond that, gazing upon nearly any corner evoked a strange, indescribable sensation—a bizarre feeling he had never experienced before.

Of course, these were all just details. The core issue right now remained his very first question: where was the fire?

On one hand, Fu Qian believed he hadn't come to the wrong place; this was exactly where Master Yuhun had said it would be.

On the other hand, where was there any sign of the Flame of Ill Omen burning here?

Most importantly... Fu Qian looked down at his hands. The flames on them were gone, too.

He hadn't deliberately deactivated them, and when he tried to summon them again, there was zero response.

It was as if the Flame of Frenzy had been completely erased on an existential level.

This was the complete opposite extreme of the scene he had pictured.

Pondering the reason for this, Fu Qian stepped through the towering main doors. And who said there was no one here?

...

Outside the Great Hall lay an astonishingly high platform. As he walked forward and leaned against the railing to look out, Fu Qian's perception rapidly expanded, making him increasingly certain that this was indeed the domain of the King of the Abandoned Prison.

The lighting was dim, yet it was impossible to distinguish between day and night. The architecture behind him stood like the pinnacle of a world enveloped in this gloom.

And directly below his feet, that intricate complexity continued.

Various exquisite, classical buildings were densely packed together to the point of overcrowding, stretching endlessly outward as they stood guard around this place.

But even more striking were the overwhelmingly dense clusters of human bodies, huddled side by side in the gaps between the buildings.

Pale and withered, they were completely silent. At first glance, they looked like excessively detailed stone statues.

However, Fu Qian knew full well that they were flesh and blood—they were even still breathing.

Their clothing varied wildly; a single glance revealed countless different styles. Some were even completely naked, their arms wrapped tightly around their pale, shriveled chests.

Just like the buildings surrounding them.

Fu Qian faintly understood what had caused that bizarre sensation from earlier: unfamiliarity.

These buildings, practically grafted onto one another along with all their jarring elements, seemed—just like all the furnishings he had seen earlier—to not exist in the Bookstore World at all.

Perhaps they had existed once, but they had long since been utterly erased from that world, wiped completely from human cognition.

It was like the dead portion of the entire world.

Was that why it was called the Abandoned Prison?

Understood from that angle, the name fit quite well.

But what was the deal with these people?

The outside world shouldn't have any shortage of biological individuals like these, right? Wasn't there a saying that went, "If you don't want to live, there are plenty of others who do"?

Even if it came down to "every soul is unique," once they died, shouldn't they fall under the authority of the Dominator of Death?

There was also that mysterious Lord of the Bliss Realm.

Rustle—

Just as Fu Qian was reminiscing about an old friend he had never met, some movement finally occurred.

Like a cascading wave, starting from the bodies closest to his feet, the figures actually began to move.

They didn't stand. Instead, they slowly turned to face his location, shifting from a huddled crouch to a kneeling prostration, pressing their foreheads firmly against the ground.

As this movement rippled outward wave by wave, a certain emotion seemed to gather among them, quickly becoming distinct: trembling jubilation.

Boundless terror, yet boundless reverence.

They were submitting to the King of the Abandoned Prison, without the slightest hint of pretense.

Even though, within their movements, one could no longer sense any shred of self-will.

...

'I get it now. "Flesh bestowed with the eternal tranquility of peace"—so this is the form it takes?'

Though soundless, the impact hit like a roaring tsunami. In that moment, looking at the dense, interwoven network of prostrating subjects, Fu Qian found he once again had a visceral understanding of that line from the King of the Abandoned Prison's honorific name.

It wasn't some bad joke or dark humor about finding peace by getting killed off. It literally followed the line, "Souls wither because of you."

By abandoning one's unnecessary self, they could truly attain Eternity within the place before his eyes.

As for the method of abandonment, that was all too simple—the Flame of Frenzy.

He had studied that power's special effectiveness against souls a long time ago.

As long as one accepted being thoroughly incinerated by the Flame of Frenzy and wholeheartedly sacrificed their sense of self, their flesh would exist forever in the Tyrant's divine kingdom.

The logic was immediately smoothed out. But it had to be said, if you put yourself in their shoes, it would easily trigger a severe case of decision paralysis.

Even so, judging by the numbers in front of him, plenty of people had overcome that hurdle.

And now he was back to that same question: where was the fire?

He had even seen the results of the Flame of Frenzy, yet there still wasn't a single flicker of flame within his perception.

Not only that, but he could also no longer sense that last wisp of Crimson Lunar Radiance from earlier, nor the Distorted Colors opposing it.

His hypothesis before coming in had been correct. Due to its overly exalted nature, this place was far more isolated from the outside world than the temporary files at the Academy.

Although he hadn't tested it yet, the path back to the Warehouse had most likely been severed as well—

While pondering the grim situation, an astonishing spectacle suddenly caught Fu Qian's attention.

In that sky where day and night were indistinguishable, a Bright Light quietly materialized.

A moon... Could it even be the Dark Moon?

Such a scene truly challenged the imagination, especially with the chilling frost radiating from amidst its spectral blue glow.