Chapter 483 - 454: Lost Faith

Chapter 483: Chapter 454: Lost Faith

"[Arcane Enlightenment]..."

Roland softly recited the unfamiliar term, trying to understand its meaning literally.

’Naturally, "Arcane" refers to that vast and mysterious system of Magic knowledge. "Enlightenment"... it sounds more like a systematic, preliminary guidance and study of related knowledge, like lighting a lamp to illuminate the path ahead.’

This seemed reasonable. Every school of Casters should have such a foundational stage when one is initiated.

But...

His gaze fell back on the small line of faintly glowing, gold text.

’Ritual... Resonance... Influence direction...’

Roland repeated these keywords in a low voice, his brow furrowing ever tighter.

This deviated greatly from his "systematic study" hypothesis.

’Does a simple impartation of knowledge need to be emphasized with the word "ritual"?’

’Would it involve "resonance" with some kind of existence?’

’More importantly, how could it directly influence the future development path of a Profession?’

’In that case...’

Roland’s expression grew solemn as a bolder, more mysterious conjecture gradually formed in his mind.

’This so-called [Arcane Enlightenment] is perhaps far from what I imagined. It’s not merely a process of imparting knowledge...’

’It might be a... "dialogue" with the very source of Magic itself?’

’An "imprint" on the soul level? Or...’

’...is it about choosing to connect with an ancient source of Arcane Magic? Or perhaps a "Law Fragment" left behind by a fallen deity? Maybe even an "arcane concept" that spans the Multiverse, all to establish an initial, and most profound, personal connection?’

’Forget it...’

Roland shook his head gently, temporarily suppressing the wild and unproven speculations about [Arcane Enlightenment] in his mind.

’Once I’m back on the Shell Ship, my priority will be to quickly browse through the Arcane Scriptures I brought back from the Imperial Academy. There might be records of this ritual inside. For now...’

His thoughts turned to the few Profession paths he had currently unlocked.

The Extraordinary Profession [Mechanical Artisan] required him to forge the "Entropy Ash Core" himself, which sounded extremely complicated.

The High Tier Profession [Aurora Disciple], aside from the mysterious enlightenment ritual, also required him to independently innovate a Spell Model.

Neither of these things could be rushed; they required a deep accumulation of knowledge and the right opportunity.

’In that case, it seems the easiest one to make progress on right now is actually...’

Roland’s gaze slowly moved down his Professional Panel, locking onto the requirements for the [Berserker] Profession.

’The only things I’m currently lacking to become a [Berserker] are two Body Tempering Techniques or Body Refining Techniques...’

He reached into the pouch at his waist and took out the ancient map given to him by Duadeng. He unfolded it, his fingertip slowly moving across its surface as his sharp gaze swept over the areas they might pass through on their way to the next Magic Node.

’Based on the course and distance Bronson calibrated earlier, we’ll likely pass by here... here... and this area...’

His fingertip tapped lightly on several marked locations or places with distinct topographical features.

’In these places, I should be able to find the materials needed to practice the "Hundred Refinements Resilient Skin Technique," the "Boiling Blood and Forging Bone Chapter," and the "Mountain Breathing Body Refining Skill."’

Firmly committing these key locations to memory, Roland carefully folded the map and put it away.

’As for the requirement to kill one hundred hostile creatures...’

Roland stood up, his gaze seeming to pierce through the warehouse walls to the desolate world shrouded in gray mist outside.

’On this perilous, lost continent, the one thing there’s no shortage of is probably all sorts of hostile monsters.’

With that thought, he quickly made a decision.

’It’ll probably take some more time for those two machines to produce enough food and water for everyone. I can use this window to go and complete the kill requirement for the [Berserker] Profession first.’

’After I go out, I can ask Hom where the monsters are most concentrated around here...’

His plan set, Roland organized his thoughts and turned back to the room where the two ancient machines were stored.

As soon as he stepped into the room, a lively clamor, completely different from the dead silence outside, washed over him.

The "High-Efficiency Groundwater Purification and Extraction Unit" was emitting a steady, low hum, and a stream of crystal-clear water gushed from the outlet on its side.

Like a miniature waterfall, it poured into a large, hastily found stone trough that had been cleaned, splashing up fine droplets and cool mist.

Duraga was commanding his kin in a booming voice.

"Quick! Fill up that waterskin! You, carry it carefully! Don’t spill the water we worked so hard to get!"

"Look sharp! Form a line, one by one!"

The stout figures of the Gray Dwarves bustled between the machine and the trough.

They used every container they could find—from leather skins originally used for strong liquor, to wiped-clean metal helmets, and even crude stone basins hastily chiseled out—to greedily collect the precious, pure water.

Then, carefully, they carried it trip after trip toward the docked Shell Ship.

Although the environment was noisy, boisterous, and even a bit chaotic, the tense lines on every busy Gray Dwarf’s face, etched by water shortages and a stressful journey, had relaxed.

Their dark skin glistened with sweat and splashed water, the corners of their mouths turned up unconsciously, and their eyes shone with an almost devout, joyous light.

Even Duraga’s usually harsh shouts carried a tone of relieved ease.

Roland waved a greeting to Duraga, who was directing the transport, and then walked straight to the "Multi-functional Food Synthesis and Packaging Machine" on the other side of the room.

At that moment, Bronson was frowning, his fingers tracing the patterns on the machine’s casing back and forth as he muttered incessantly under his breath.

Seeing Roland approach, he immediately looked up, his tone laced with obvious heartache and dissatisfaction.

"Roland, you’re just in time! This machine’s Energy consumption is astounding! How long has it even been running? It’s already drained three Energy Cores salvaged from the Rusted Knight Order’s junk!"

"The efficiency is too low! If I were to design the energy circuits, I could optimize away at least thirty percent of the unnecessary consumption..."

Roland raised a hand, gently cutting off what was likely to become a lengthy technical complaint from Bronson.

"We can talk about the energy problem later, Mr. Bronson. I’ve found the recipe for the ’Nutrient Concentrate’ and need your help operating this machine."

Hearing this, Bronson’s attention was immediately diverted.

Under Roland’s guidance, they used the few remaining but still active ingredients to successfully concoct a small, pure batch of Nutrient Concentrate.

Afterward, Roland strictly followed the Rock Core Block recipe that [Taste Empathy] had analyzed in his mind, adding the Potion as a core ingredient and feeding it into the machine for synthesis and packaging.

With a slight vibration and a flow of Energy, a few new Rock Core Blocks slid out of the output chute. They were a deeper, dark gray, and the points of light on their surfaces were denser and more active.

Roland picked one up, broke off a small piece, and put it in his mouth.

It still had the same coarse texture, but after he swallowed, a feeling of Energy—far stronger and purer than that from the Rock Core Blocks Hom had given him—quickly spread through his stomach, dispelling his hunger and fatigue.

The effect was immediate.

"Success."

Roland breathed a sigh of relief. He then finished preparing the rest of the ingredients and handed them over to Bronson to handle the subsequent mass synthesis.

He himself did not linger, turning to walk out of Sui Cang Hall.

Outside the hall, it was nearly noon.

Although the sky was still shrouded in thick gray mist, a few tenacious rays of sunlight managed to pierce through the obstruction.

They formed several hazy pillars of light that seemed to be made of dust, slanting down onto the desolate, ruined land and bringing with them a faint yet precious warmth.

And in this sparse light, Roland witnessed a moving scene.

The survivors, led by Hom, were no longer huddled in the ruins and shadows. Instead, they were all kneeling devoutly before the tall, damaged, headless, and armless stone statue.

Their gaunt figures looked exceptionally small in the pillars of light, their filthy, tattered clothes nearly blending in with the earth.

They bowed their heads, their hands clasped together or making some sort of ancient gesture in front of their chests, mouthing words in a silent and solemn prayer.

And the statue, under the thin light, seemed to have its pale stone infused with a kind of Divine Attribute, silently receiving this worship born of despair and Hope.

"It’s truly incredible, isn’t it?"

The melodious sound of a plucked Lute string accompanied the exclamation from beside Roland.

Galvis had appeared by his side at some point. He gazed at the figures kneeling devoutly before the statue, his voice full of emotion.

"In this lost age where the Deities have vanished and civilizations have withered, to still see so many people so purely supporting and revering... an unknown existence."

Hearing this, Roland spoke with a hint of confusion.

"That should be... quite common, right?"

"Just like your Elf Race, and the Zor Elves. Don’t you all piously worship Corellon and Rose from generation to generation?"

"Piously? Hah!"

Galvis let out a soft laugh, tinged with an indescribable irony.

"Countless years have passed since the Deities last truly performed miracles or answered prayers."

"I don’t know about the Zor Elves, but in the Eternal Song Forest, at least, the ones who still insist on worshipping Corellon are mostly just a few old-timers who refuse to face reality."

"Besides, even for them, their so-called ’worship’ mostly comes with clear demands: praying for power, for protection, or for the continuation of the race’s glory. It’s transactional, unlike these people here..."

He lifted his chin, gesturing toward Hom and the other survivors.

"Look at them. They’re in rags and starving, yet there’s not a trace of greed or desire in their eyes. Their reverence is more like a selfless entrustment and steadfastness that comes from the heart."

Hearing this, Roland couldn’t help but recall what he had seen in the Zor Elf camp.

The corner where the statue of Rose was worshipped was covered in dust, and during his stay there, he had indeed rarely seen any Zor Elves go to pay their respects.

The decay of faith seemed to be a common phenomenon in this era.

Just as Roland was pondering this, Galvis gently strummed the strings of his Lute.

"That also explains why the incarnation of ’Corellon’ you faced back then was so... well, underwhelming, to be so easily struck down by you! My hero, Roland!"

"Without the support of enough sufficiently firm faith, the power of even the greatest Deities will become like a river without a source."

"In the end, what’s the difference between a Deity who has lost their faith and an ordinary, powerful Transcendent? They’re just a bit stronger, that’s all."

"Easily struck down?"

Hearing this gross understatement, Roland couldn’t help but shake his head. He was about to retort that the battle had been far from that simple.

Just then, Hom noticed Roland’s arrival, but the leader of the human survivors did not rush over eagerly.

Instead, he maintained his solemn demeanor, finished the last part of his silent prayer, and bowed deeply to the statue before slowly rising and walking steadily over to Roland.

With a hint of anticipation on his grimy face, he asked cautiously,

"Lord Veil Breaker, have you... have you defeated the monster in Sui Cang Hall?"