Hollow Knight: Hallownest

"No, no, it's impossible. I must have neglected something..."

At the top of the Crystal Mountain, the wind was howling and clouds were passing by like needles, blowing on the huge, dull statue and peeling off a lot of sand and stone from it, which were carried away to the rear.

The peak has always been sparsely visited by insects, but today there was a broad, fiery red figure constantly walking and wandering among the standing stone tablets. His steps were hurried and disorderly, and it was not difficult to see the panic hidden in him.

"Where's the breath? Where is my king's breath? Where is it?!"

Marcos' pupils were red and swollen, and every step he took left a dent on the hard stone surface under his feet. He didn't need to touch the stone tablet with his hands, or stroke it, so that his whole body was pressed against it.

This is true for every one of them.

But the more this happened, the more disappointed he became.

Whether it was the huge statue in the front or the mysterious patterns carved on the broad stone tablet standing at the end, he did not feel the breath that made his blood tremble before.

No, not a single one. The stone tablet clearly recorded the history of the Moth Clan, but the only thing missing was the Supreme who was the source of their bloodline.

How could he accept this when he had witnessed his supreme greatness before? !

So he returned to the statue, soared into the sky, and madly poured out the little dream energy that he had just recovered, trying to trace the source to find out the existence of that person. However, when the ring made of golden energy had not yet been integrated into the statue, it collapsed and dissipated like quicksand in the middle.

All thoughts are lost.

The large figure suddenly hunched over, like a withered leaf. After swaying a few times, it fell weakly from the air and hit the ground heavily.

Marcos' pupils were a little dilated, blurring all the scenery in front of him, and he could only hear the whistling of the wind.

Faith is the foundation that makes a warrior strong.

If faith disappears, the warrior will be like a rootless duckweed, losing the sense of direction and getting lost in endless confusion, gasping for breath and waiting for death.

Just like Marcos now, he seemed unaware that even though he had stopped releasing the power of dreams, the golden aura continued to emanate from his body and disappeared with the wind.

He seemed to realize it again, but he didn't want to pay attention.

He longed for the appearance of the savior, even if it would only give him a little guidance, to let him know that He still existed and that he could still contribute to Him.

He knows that He will never be stingy with His life.

Marcos just lay there, his eyes sometimes distracted and sometimes focused, never leaving the stone statue.

The golden aura has changed from flowing out like a waterfall before to now seeping in like silk, and it seems that it will stop completely and dry up soon.

Gradually, his mind began to become hazy and he could hardly see the entire appearance of the stone statue.

In just a moment, his body became as thin as a candle in the wind, his face became haggard and thin, and he no longer had any energy or spirit.

"King, is that you..."

In the darkness, he seemed to see the majestic figure again, flapping his wings that were beyond the reach of the mountains. The halo behind him was brighter than the sun. He lowered his head and looked at himself.

For some reason, he seemed to see sadness in those eyes that should not have given birth to emotions.

Then, the silhouette that blocked out the sun and the sky suddenly shrank, and the golden color gradually faded and became dim, and finally turned into a moth that was even thinner than him and fell into the clouds.

King, you should not fall.

King, you are the great sun, you should always hang high...

Marcos' breathing was so weak that he could hardly hear it, but his expression did not show pain. Instead, there was a hint of relief.

It would be a relief to be able to see that figure again before I die. Let him pass away in that memory, and it would be considered as eternal coexistence with Him.

Just like that, Marcos recalled everything that had just happened in his mind, and his breathing became lighter and quieter...

Wait, why does the figure that just fell feel... familiar?

The breath suddenly paused, and the fiery red figure suddenly sat up straight as if resurrected from the dead. The gloom in his eyes suddenly dissipated, and he turned his head to look up at the stone statue.

Yes, yes, how could he have forgotten about this.

Not long ago, the king drove that body here to summon him to fight!

Marcos' heart was shaken, he staggered to his feet, uttered an ancient spell, and wrapped himself with the only remaining dream energy.

With a loud bang, the top of Crystal Mountain returned to its previous empty state.

......

"How's your rest, Karina?"

The prophet pushed open the wooden door and walked into the cave, then asked the tribesmen who took care of her.

"Report to the prophet, Kalina is still weak, but she is no longer in the dangerous state she was in before, but..."

The moth faltered, and the prophet frowned, "But what? Say it!"

"Yes! But Kalina still keeps talking nonsense about blood clouds, giant insects, hearts, etc. I... I can't do anything about it."

"...Okay, I understand. You can leave first. I'll check on Kalina's condition."

"As ordered."

The prophet walked towards the dim light flickering in the depths and stopped beside the bed.

Kalina, who was half leaning against the head of the bed, had cloudy eyes and looked half asleep. Just as the tribesman had said just now, she kept muttering words that she couldn't understand.

"Blood cloud, heart, so hot! Egg shell, giant insect..."

"Kalina, Kalina..." The prophet walked up and pushed her shoulder.

"Kalina!"

She originally thought that this low roar could bring Kalina back to her senses a little, but unexpectedly it had the opposite effect - although Kalina stopped, her whole body was shaking violently, and she shrank back into the quilt without even looking at her, curling up into a ball.

The quilt was shaking visibly.

Seeing this, the prophet held his forehead and sighed, his face showing bitterness, but he did not dare to press further.

Other members of the tribe may not know, but she knows.

Now Kalina's value to the Moth Clan is far more important than that of a prophet like herself.

Not to mention that the King himself descended into her body, further purifying her bloodline, if her mind was intact at this time, her strength would surely soar.

More importantly, will this happen again?

Although I don’t know what Kalina... no, it was what the king did when he went out that caused her to return to the tribe in this state, but as long as she can recover her memory, everything will have an answer!

The prophet was still thinking when suddenly there was a loud explosion beside her, which made her ears ring and her heartbeat suddenly accelerated and almost jumped out of her throat.

But after seeing clearly who was coming, she immediately relaxed.

Marcos turned his head away, his eyes flashing coldly, and his tone was emotionless.

"Where is the body that my king favored..."

"answer me!"