Chapter 1463: Laughter and Joy

The gusts of sea wind rushed in, bringing a chill to Merlin, but it also cleared his mind quite a bit. His muddled and weary will was slightly dazed, then awakened, as he slowly got up and moved his body.

Stretching his sinews and bones forcefully, his body made light cracking sounds, like misaligned machinery being corrected back to its proper place.

Merlin sighed deeply, appearing both physically and mentally exhausted.

Indeed, very tired. Sometimes Merlin felt as if his entire remaining life had been compressed, with all his joys and sorrows piled onto his face, crashing toward him.

From the moment he vaguely knew of the fence’s existence, found the secret of the World’s End, and headed toward the ultimate showdown, all of it felt too fast for him. Reflecting on the past, he and his teacher desperately pursued results for decades without success, yet within these few years, he had already seen the end.

“Teacher, if only you could have lived a few more years.”

Thinking of this, Merlin muttered to himself. He was curious, if his teacher also knew the truth of this world, what kind of mood would he have?

Rounding up, Merlin also considered himself to understand what is called “Truth,” but this “Truth” now seemed somewhat disappointing. Of course, it might be Merlin himself who had too high expectations.

“I always thought my teacher was a pitiful man, dedicating his life to something elusive and unknown, and until his death, he never saw its full picture. Later, I felt that I was the even more pitiful one. My teacher died filled with expectation, with Death God nearing, he still held onto great enthusiasm. After his death, I was left alone to progress humanity, abandoning the foolish Alchemy, burying what I was most proud of completely.”

“And now?”

Arthur came over. In the deep of night, the two did not return to their rooms but strolled on the deck.

“Now?”

Merlin thought for a moment, his monotonous voice showing a hint of fluctuation.

“I feel both lucky and unfortunate.”

Merlin raised his head, gazing at the mighty, twisted Steel Bird’s Nest, from which a faint glow leaked out along with the constant clanging of iron. Technicians were working overtime, not wasting any travel time, maintaining and upgrading the Sailing Dawn.

“I’m happier than any Alchemist. Over the millennia, I’m the only one to have seen the Truth. More importantly, on this pursuit, it seems I’ve sacrificed nothing.”

Merlin reached out his hand, gently brushing the rails, feeling their rust.

“I did nothing, just waited in place. Then this bunch just steered this ship from that cold World’s End, miraculously bringing back the Truth.”

Looking at Arthur, Merlin’s face was serious.

“You know, among Alchemists, they even rob knowledge from each other, clashing for a few rounds. To me, this Truth is just like getting something for nothing.”

“Getting something for nothing?”

Hearing Merlin describe Truth in this way, even Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing Arthur’s smiling face, Merlin too let out a few hollow laughs, matching his mood.

The two leaned against the rails, with pitch-black sea water churning and rolling below them.

“I also feel terribly unlucky.”

Merlin continued, “I will head toward the conclusion.”

“Isn’t the conclusion good? All of this will come to an end,” Arthur retorted.

“No… I’m just a little afraid, not of the conclusion itself, but rather of what comes after,” Merlin’s voice paused for a few seconds, then he asked, “Arthur, have you ever thought about the world after the conclusion?”

“No.”

To this old friend, Arthur had nothing to hide.

“I somewhat understand your fear, but I’m different from you. I look forward to that unknowable future.”

Arthur said, straightening his back.

“It might be terrible, a future where everyone perishes, but it might also be wonderful, a world where everyone finds happiness.”

“Speaking of which, these things remind me of some conversations I had with Lorenzo.” Arthur recalled something and added.

“Hmm? What insights does Mr. Holmes have?”

Hearing Lorenzo’s name, Merlin showed some interest. In his view, rather than interesting, Lorenzo felt more like someone who often delivers “surprises.” When trapped in some thoughts, it wouldn’t hurt to listen to his opinions; although they might not be useful, they will certainly challenge your conventional thinking.

“He doesn’t know what the future after the conclusion is either, but he heard from someone else.”

“Passing words? One after another, well, who’s that person?”

Merlin asked. They knew little about Lorenzo’s past, and Lorenzo himself never mentioned it. Sometimes, it gave them an illusion that Lorenzo’s life began with Old Dunling, before which there was nothing but blankness.

“Don’t know, he didn’t tell me much, only of the future’s vision.”

Arthur leaned on the rails, looking toward the distant horizon. Amid the endless darkness, faint light rose, as if flames growing from the land itself, they transformed into torches of the dark, illuminating the path ahead.

“He called the future after the conclusion a Golden Era.”

“A Golden Era?”

Merlin savored the term, catching a hint of the sun’s fragrance.

“Sounds nice.”

…

Tonight’s weather wasn’t good, dense clouds covered the stars, and not a single ray of light could fall. Looking out through the porthole, you’d find darkness pervasive over the sea and night sky, their boundary blurred, merging into one, swallowing the ship into limitless darkness.