Ke-style law enforcement officers

Chapter 794 Redemption of the Dead
……

So how should Emma's "destruction" be achieved?
Did they simply smash those three Muta?

Milo initially thought so, but now, having grasped the truth behind the entire cycle of reincarnation involving Muta, Bloodborne, and Vovados, Milo has some new perspectives…

...

“I think I should share with you what I found in these four graves,” Milo muttered.

But the Night Weaver replied:

"I saw it all."

"Hmm... what do you mean?" Milo asked, puzzled.

The Night Weaver explained, “Within the Muta, you and I are one. In this state, I can see what you see.”

"Oh, that's perfect, saves me the trouble of explaining."

Milo withdrew his hand from the deceased's throne.

...

The Nightweaver was right; she could see what Milo saw and heard, and in turn, Milo could sense some of the changes deep within her heart.

"I know what to do."

No one could imagine the impact that seeing the truth that runs through the entire story would have on the Nightweaver's soul and heart, not even Milo.

She is actually an epitome of all the deceased in the three Mutas, and even the entire Bloodborne faith in the Lost South, as well as those self-important descendants of the gods.

The origin of everything, this is to continue the work of a guardian in outer space.

That's it.

The decisions made by the gods are often complex and unfathomable. On the surface, Nordens' actions toward his own children may seem cruel and heartless, but conversely, perhaps they are acts of mercy within His understanding.

...

However, the Night Weaver remained calmer than ever before.

Her spirit silently detached from Milo's body, but Milo did not stop her.

Muta quickly realized that non-divine descendants had infiltrated the tower, but the ones who reacted were not the weak descendants in the center of the tower, but the dead who had been buried in Muta for countless years.

...

"rumble……"

The heavy thud of the stone coffin being moved came from every level and every corner of the Muta.

However, the coffins embedded in the stone walls remained unchanged.

All the sounds and hostility originated from some powerful mental force.

Just as the Night Weavers were awakened by the death of Vovados.

The warning issued by Muta awakened the eyes of all the mediocre souls buried within Muta.

The surrounding noises and the hostility in the air all foreshadowed something.

High up in the tower, a faint hymn drifted from the sky, as if countless people were chanting in hushed tones. The lyrics were irrelevant; what was most awe-inspiring was the tone, which sounded like the voice of a celestial being.

...

The dead poured out like a tide from every dark corner of Muta.

They cannot be seen with the naked eye, but their existence can be clearly felt through the soul. Even the living descendants of the gods can sense that blood affinity.

...

This scene is somewhat reminiscent of what Milo saw in the unseen depths of the Church of the Awake World.

After he killed Joan Byrne, whom he had just met, on the ancient altar, the souls of the dead in the unseen lands also cried out in unison. Those who had long since died and vanished, no matter how weak they were, could still leave some trace in the world.

At the moment, Milo remained relatively calm, because all the awakened wills of the deceased were merely those who had been mediocre and weak in life, and he did not see anything extraordinary among the emerging spirits.

In particular, the four coffins placed in front of the throne in the center of Muta remained completely still, which was the reason why Milo could stay in place with peace of mind.

If the will of the dead Vovardaus could also rise from Muta's summons, and there were four of them at once, then Milo would have no choice but to flee in panic.

...

Large swaths of semi-illusory afterimages and souls stumbled and crawled out from the dusty stone walls, pressing and piling up on each other, surging towards Milo like a tide.

But just as the will of these departed beings was about to touch Milo, the Nightweaver released countless thin, black threads behind him once again. These threads intertwined like a spider web and spread rapidly in all directions.

It was night.

Milo had already witnessed it once in the Kunyang Underworld.

It can connect two overlapping spaces.

...

However, this time the Nightweaver opened not the Serpent's Nest of Shadows, but Muta's true face.

She vividly portrays a series of hidden secrets in the night, including the truth behind the so-called promises from Nordens and Lisalia, the cycle of death of Vovados, and the true role of Muta.

Including the ancient legend that "one day a god of Nirvana will emerge from Muta", the origin of the bloodline faith, all the evil and ugly truths, in the most unreasonable way, through the deep sense of the night, are sent into the depths of the will of all the deceased.

...

The scene unfolding before Milo's eyes was even more dreamlike and surreal than the azure aurora of Kunyang's underground world.

Countless lines, spreading from the darkness of the Night Weaver, connect all the disordered dead, densely packed, like a woven fabric, like the abundant harvest of summer…

There was an incongruous eeriness and malevolence, yet beneath the seemingly endless low chanting lay solemnity and reverence.

...

"The truth behind Muta is the faith of keeping the dead in captivity."

The Nightweaver appeared behind Milo.

This time, she was no longer a blurry, illusory silhouette.

When Milo turned his head, he saw a clear, holy, and exquisite profile, exactly as he had seen in the memories of a certain generation of Vovados's undead.

No, she was less bewildered than the one in the ghost's memories.

"The living continue to multiply and perpetuate the cycle of the watchers."

"The deceased slumber in the Muta, providing an inexhaustible source of faith for some unseen order."

"The heights of these three towers lead to the order of Lysalia..."

“It was a voice from there that awakened me. I thought it was the will of the goddess Lisalia… but now it seems I was wrong. After all, there was no reason for her to arrange all this and destroy her own faith pasture.”

"Is it her?"

"The one who left you guidance and advice."

"As expected, nothing is accidental; there is no such thing as accident in this world."

"But... I still want to thank you for leading me to find all of this, the truth of the Southern Territory."

“I could not escape my destiny, neither could Vovados, nor could the gods…”

"Our era has long since ended, but fate and curses have never ceased. It's time to let them go."

...

Farewell, Valrocan, may you find a peaceful haven.

...

……

Outside Muta.

A magnificent and profound song floated on the sea.

Three pitch-black towers, situated in different locations on the archipelago, simultaneously emitted straight black light that surged towards the sky.

At a certain moment, the black light suddenly broke off, without a sound.

A concept called "death" has truly descended upon the heads of every deceased person who lies dormant in the Muta.

Relief, or perhaps liberation, began the moment the black light broke apart. From that moment on, it ceased to endlessly provide the order at the top of the Muta with the power of faith, and it no longer needed to cling to the false prophecy about the "God of Nirvana".

Whatever the top echelons of this twisted belief system established by Lisalia maintain, it's irrelevant to the deceased at the bottom, because...

Once someone is dead, they are dead.

……

Ultimately, the Night Weavers delivered the so-called "destruction" to this Muta order.

Neither the descendants of the gods inside the tower who were in charge of the funeral procession, nor the horde of Bloodline believers outside, knew what had happened; fear and unease filled their hearts.

Everyone felt like the sky had fallen but they didn't know exactly where it had fallen, and the scene was chaotic.

The instigator, however, remained alone, squatting on the last empty throne in the center of Muta, chin in hand, gazing at the hazy darkness of the top floor, as if waiting for something.

The Nightweaver's clear silhouette gradually crumbled beside Milo.

Like all those buried in Muta, she has found her own redemption.

...

Milo waited until the Muta on the sea surface became completely calm before anything arrived.

He was somewhat puzzled and disappointed.

He had already destroyed the Muta order established by the gods, following Emma's advice. The faith of the deceased here was no longer being sent upwards, but it seemed that nothing had changed...

It's not obvious yet, at least not now.

...

Ten minutes into the night, as Milo sat on his throne frowning, a small blue character suddenly appeared on the ground in front of him, followed by a second, a third…

The furrowed brows finally relaxed.

……

Soon after, Milo and Yan returned to the seaside and boarded the snake boat, heading towards their next destination.

...

"Is everything here finished?"

Yan, who had originally planned to make a big splash around Muta, felt somewhat disappointed because he had basically done nothing on this trip. He had just squatted outside Muta for a while before Milo announced that they were heading back home.

"Everything's all taken care of," Milo said, indicating that things went smoothly.

"Where is that ghost lady?" Yan also noticed that the Night Weaver had not returned with Milo.

“Her,” Milo glanced back at the silhouette of the stark black spire on the distant horizon and said softly, “She has found her safe haven.”

...

……

Above Muta.

The broken trail of black light stretched straight into the outer realms.

Here, the once stable and unbreakable order of confinement is crumbling layer by layer.

Those imprisoned there finally grasped a crack in the path of freedom and began to slowly awaken.

...

And at the same time.

A lone sailboat finally crossed the South Wind Sea after the Mu continent sank again, successfully entering the ocean currents belonging to the Southern Territory.

There was only one person on the dilapidated boat, which looked as if it could be smashed to pieces by the waves at any moment.

She held onto the mast with one hand and rested the other on the gun handle at her waist.

Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, her red hair blazed like fire.

(End of this chapter)