novelODS Chapter 110 The Role of the Throne
Chapter 110 The Role of the Throne
Chapter 110 The Role of the Throne
Xinwu opened his eyes.
Consciousness, being detached from the body for an extended period, puts a burden on the brain.
He lay on the ground with a splitting headache, and subconsciously touched his waist.
His palm touched the familiar hilt of the sword.
Fortunately, the Five Weapons Sword I brought with me when I left home is still here.
Although the sword didn't provide much help during his time away, it would be a great help if he lost his clan's sacred artifact.
Putting aside the fact that Xin'an will definitely complain, his position as a priest will probably be revoked.
He propped himself up and looked around.
The environment was unusually quiet.
Underfoot were neat rows of black stone bricks, stretching into the distance, forming a corridor that seemed to have no end.
The dome high above was shrouded in gloom, with wisps of white mist slowly flowing along the ground.
There are no distinctive features here, and Shinzo had never known that such a place existed in the divine realm.
His memory was still stuck on the moment when he was about to be swallowed up by the independent consciousnesses he had created.
The deity pulled him out of his confusion and spoke some words he couldn't understand—
"throne?"
His voice rang out, but the building was empty, and no one could answer his questions.
Puzzled, Xinwu gripped the hilt of his sword and walked forward.
Towering stone pillars stand on both sides of the road, and large murals are carved on the walls between the pillars.
The initial content was very familiar: the first human king knelt on the ground, the sky cracked open, and fire descended from the hands of the gods.
Next, the first group of Sinners established settlements in the divine realm.
Behind them stood a strong member of the Xin tribe facing a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, his body glowing with light, flames covering a hundred meters.
Then came hunting, building cities, and mining.
The first batch of ironware was formed from the furnace and hammered by craftsmen.
The following scroll records the casting process of the five weapons.
The weapons, forged under the personal supervision of King Shinzo, took a hundred days to complete. Finally, with the help of the gods, the five weapons of different shapes were freed from the impurities of ordinary iron and revealed their sharpness.
In a deeper scene, the setting returns to the temple. On the altar, an infant girl, still in swaddling clothes, is held high.
The heavens shone down, and lines symbolizing power flowed continuously into the baby's body.
That is Xin'an, receiving a direct blessing from the gods.
The murals are still in use.
More and more people are appearing in the frame.
Some of the employees knew him, and some didn't.
Then, he saw himself.
The scenes of practicing riding with Xin'an, carrying ore in the mine, and even going to the kitchen to find food in the middle of the night were all carved in stone.
The deeper you go, the more recent the time period recorded in the murals becomes, and the more detailed the records are.
Walk to the back section, to the last section of the mural.
A raging inferno engulfed the plains, wild beasts fled before the flames, and a pack of black wolves drove the herd of beasts away. Xin'an led his cavalry out of the flames, his spear piercing the monster's head.
A voice drifted from afar.
"My hoe is broken, priest, could you please take a look at it for me?"
The sound was very soft.
Xinwu turned around and saw no one behind him. He stood there listening for a while, but the voice did not reappear.
We continued walking forward for a while.
What should we eat tonight?
"Meat jerky with biscuits, please."
"More dried meat."
"It's good enough to have something to eat."
The sound of two people chatting rang in my ears, as if the speakers were standing right next to me.
The corridor ahead remained empty, without a single person in sight.
As they moved forward, the surrounding sounds grew louder. There were arguments about how to build the house, grumbling about the weight of weapons, and whispers teaching children to identify herbs. Countless voices surged in from all directions, like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea.
Xinwu stopped in his tracks.
These are all the voices of the Xinzu people. Everything seems to have been contained within this empty building.
A huge stone gate that had already been opened appeared ahead.
Xinwu strode in.
Inside was a large circular hall. Beneath the towering dome, thick fog flowed slowly. In the very center of the hall stood a throne.
It was carved from a single piece of rock and has a simple design.
Xinwu approached the throne. The surrounding sounds became clearer.
"The eastern section of the city wall needs stone."
"There are still three barrels of kerosene left in the inventory."
"The cavalry are back!"
A massive influx of information arrived simultaneously.
Perception is expanded infinitely at this moment.
War, life, love, death—countless images juxtaposed in his mind. Each member of his tribe was like a spark in the night sky, vast in number yet each independent. Xinwu couldn't distinguish between what he saw with his own eyes and what was from the perspective of his tribe.
He connected with the entire consciousness network of the salaryman class.
Xinwu looked behind the throne. The stone walls were covered with a dense array of names, stretching upwards into the depths of the dome.
He reached out and touched one of the names.
The perspective of a stranger enters the narrative. The man walks across the wilderness carrying heavy stones, sweat streaming down his face, with the first city wall yet to be built behind him.
The image quickly disappeared.
The throne stands quietly, the long years sealed within this building, awaiting visitors to come before it.
"What would happen if I sat on it?"
Xin Wu muttered to himself.
"You will become a node in the Gestalt, the only node —"
The voice came from behind, startling the young man who turned around in a panic.
Liang Jiu stood in the flowing mist, still looking like an old man, as if he had been waiting in the hall for a long time.
Upon seeing the person's face, Xinwu was at a loss for what to do.
Liang Jiu simply chuckled and offered an explanation.
"The only receiving end and the only output end. Everything that the people of Xinzu see and think will flow here, be processed, and then return to them."
"This is pressure that no ordinary person could bear." Liang Jiu nodded. "That's why I originally planned to sit here myself, since I'm getting used to sitting all the time."
Faced with the god's teasing, Xinwu dared not offer any judgment, and could only ask the god about his doubts, "Can you tell me, what will I become if I sit on the throne?"
Liang Jiu did not answer immediately.
His gaze passed over Xinwu and fell upon the densely packed names on the stone wall.
He spoke after a while.
"Nobody knows."
"A throne can help you process massive amounts of information and maintain self-awareness. But as people see more and understand more, things will inevitably change."
Xin Wu seemed to be deep in thought.
He had already experienced this in the collective consciousness of the swarm; the consciousness of mortals was too easily influenced, especially when they completely opened their minds to receive information.
"The will of mortals will be eroded by the information they receive," Xinwu said in a low voice.
"That's pretty much it." Liang Jiu smiled. "So the choice is yours. The Xin Clan will not lose this divine war, nor will they lose any future war. This is just an experiment."
"You can come back decades later, or even a hundred years later."
""
"The throne will remain here forever."