CHAPTER 238: THE REASON

Even Aetheris did not know the full extent of the Hollow Mother’s power, yet he understood how the explosion had happened, an explosion vast enough to carve a massive hole into the planet itself.

After all, the way he perceived the world was nothing like how humans did. He was a sword after all, his senses saw things that humans could never see with naked eyes, and so he could feel it in a way no human ever would.

The cause of the devastation lay in the Hollowborns. These were tiny, almost invisible worms, so small they could be mistaken for the mana molecules themselves, merging with the environment ....creating an illusion.

Inside each of hollowborns rested a faint wisp of energy, so fragile it was barely noticeable, and yet they were the primary source of mind control.

Those Hollowborns had self-destructed.

Now, imagine what would happen if a single air molecule exploded. In reality, according to physics, such a thing is impossible, and even if it did somehow occur, the result would be so small it would remain invisible to the naked eye.

A normal air molecule carries no energy of its own... but what if it did?

What if there were millions, or even trillions, of Hollowborns—each holding just a trace of energy—and every single one of them exploded at the same moment?

The result would be an explosion so immense that not even the hardest metal known to man could endure it. Everything within range would be vaporized, the air itself would vanish, the atmosphere would be stripped away, and the very space around it would begin to collapse under the strain.

And that was exactly what had happened.

The blast had left behind a gaping wound in the world, one that would take thousands of years to heal, and even then, the scar would remain for all time. The air still existed, but it was thin, scarce, and barely enough to sustain normal life.

An awakened human could survive without air by relying entirely on mana, and that was how Ray had endured even in the absence of an atmosphere.

As for Ash, he could still breathe, though only with great effort, thanks to the protection of the Rune of Space.

After hearing everything, both Ash and Ray fell silent for a long time. Neither of them spoke.

Because they knew... they knew there was nothing that could have been done. No amount of power could have stopped such a catastrophe. Even if someone had been strong enough to unleash their domain and impose their will upon the world—controlling everything within that domain, even down to the smallest mana particle—the truth remained.

A domain had its limits. Humans had their limits. No one could cover hundreds of thousands of square kilometers at once. Yes, a domain’s range grew with its master’s power, but even Saints faced boundaries they could not cross.

And so, their blame shifted to... no one, and yet, somehow, it still fell upon themselves.

I am weak, so pitifully weak. In my previous world, the world was full of nepotism, corruption and a hidden monarchy. There, death came slowly—wrapped in harassment, humiliation, and torture. In that world, power was not salvation, it was poison... it broke the mind of a person long before it broke their body. It stripped them of all will to fight, leaving them utterly powerless...

.....but here.... even though there is power, even though there are real and actual gods... something, anything, could kill millions of people in a single millisecond. Here, death feels fleeting, sudden, and somehow... almost normal.

But even though death was common here, and countless lives ended every day, it was the same for Earth too. The difference was that such things were rarely shown on the news, never spoken of openly.

Those tragedies were quietly and swiftly buried, hidden under other headlines. People did not care unless the victim was someone they personally knew, and perhaps the news simply chose to show something else, something they deemed more important... more attention-worthy... anyway.

Still, even in this cruel world, there would be moments when people were shaken, moments when they felt that deep sadness knowing millions had died. At least some would.

Most would simply hear about it at face value, nod or sigh for a moment, and then forget the next second. They do not know how it feels when someone close to you dies, they do not know what despair is, they do not understand the weight of sadness, they do not know what it feels like to be left utterly alone....

And now, there was no one to mourn the dwarves that had died here. Perhaps if there were those who had been their friends, they would mourn, and the dwarves in other cities would feel that grief.

And that was what the new reality was.

Ash knew this, and so... even though he had not been able to save them, he still wanted to do something. Anything. He did not want them to be forgotten, erased, and buried in silence like so many stories on Earth that were swallowed and lost beneath louder news.

So he acted.

Ash vanished, disappearing without a sound, teleporting to somewhere far from sight. After a few minutes, he returned.

There was no change in him outwardly, except that Eclipse was now in his hands. Ray looked at him, confusion flickering faintly across his face.

Ash stepped forward, his hands moving slightly, and in the next second a massive rock appeared in front of them and crashed to the ground with a heavy, echoing sound.

The rock was not just any stone—it was a part of a mountain peak, a piece that Ash had cut cleanly and brought back here. It stood tall and imposing, at least ten meters high.

He then lifted Eclipse and began to carve into the rock, his movements slow and deliberate, each stroke leaving behind precise markings.

[Here lies nothing, but only a proof that millions of dreams, from big to small, from small to big, perished here. Leaving nothing but a large crater as their only remains.]

Ash stepped back once he had finished writing those words, reading them quietly with his emotionless face.

Then, as if remembering something, he raised his sword again and added another line.

[May their dreams be fulfilled in another life.]

Ash believed in another life. After all.... wasn’t he living his second one? Even though he did not know if there was someone who was responsible his transmigration, but that was a question for another time.

Turning away from the stone, Ash spoke calmly, "I am returning back."

He was dressed in nothing but simple clothes now. Twice today, he had died, and his armor, which had been built for utility, was completely destroyed. What he wore now was nothing more than mundane clothing.

Ray, too, had wore clothes at some point before lashing out at Ash earlier.

Hearing Ash’s words, Ray looked at him, but this time he did not blame him. Instead, he felt an emptiness spreading through his chest. He felt powerless, helpless, and unbearably hollow.

It was the same suffocating feeling that had crushed him on the day he saw his parents slaughtered before his eyes. That same sense of being unable to do anything returned from the depths of his heart, clawing at him until his throat tightened.

He opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but no words came out.

Ray turned his gaze to the rock again, reading the words Ash had carved into its surface. The lines were rough, yet each stroke seemed to carry weight, as if the stone itself understood what was written upon it. Tears continued to slip down his face, falling freely, warm against the cold air, as his vision blurred. After a long, trembling breath, he closed his eyes and gave a weak nod.

Even though they said nothing more, they remained there for another five minutes, standing silently before the makeshift tomb that now stood as the only marker of the dwarves’ passing.

If Ash’s mind had been in its peak state, if the exhaustion had not hollowed him out so deeply, he might have tried to at least check another dwarven city, to see if there was an anomaly like this city. But right now... both Ray and Ash wanted nothing more than to close their eyes and rest.

One might say their battles today had not lasted long, and perhaps that would be true from a third person’s perspective. Yet the truth was different for them.

The mental strain they had endured, the constant tension and the crushing weight of helplessness, was far more exhausting than anything physical. It drained not the body, but the spirit, leaving a heaviness that no sleep could fully ease.

And then, without another word, Ash and Ray vanished, their forms dissolving into the air as they teleported away.

When the space settled again, the silence lingered for a moment... until, only a few minutes later, someone else appeared.

Standing in front of the tomb was....

The Whisperer.

***