He lowered his voice and said, "Then I will keep searching until the very end, until I find the guy who is pulling the strings behind the scenes!"

Saladin: "You have no idea what you will face... throat bone. The small mistake arrogance for courage, while the powerful mistake caution for wisdom. When we truly face the abyss, we will find that everything is insignificant in its presence."

Throat Bone: "Your pessimism and retreat make me feel sorry for you. How will you know it's all in vain if you don't even try?"

Saladin was silent for a moment, then said, "Throat Bone, when I was young, I had the same thoughts as you. I was full of energy, felt invincible, and believed that as long as I kept striving upwards, I could save the whole world, eventually discover the truth of the universe, and see the final truth."

Throat Bone: "So what exactly is it that has worn down your fighting spirit and eroded your will?"

Saladin: "It's reality."

"The more you learn and the more you know, the more afraid you become of the world."

"Thieves and bandits who have never read any books and cannot listen to any reason always think that they can become stronger and eventually become the king of the world by relying on the blade in their hands; however, scholars who spend their whole lives studying knowledge are always trembling in front of the door of truth, and even have to seek help from ethereal gods in order to obtain a moment of inner peace."

Saladin's cloudy eyes were fixed on the ceiling, and the voice in his heart echoed in his throat: "Our fear and cowardice do not stem from laziness in exploring, but from the ever-growing unknown. The more we see, the more we learn, the more we think, the more we discover that the unknown in this world is constantly expanding, and the more we feel our own insignificance and powerlessness."

Looking down at the roof of the house between the holy white buildings, a sliver of light could be faintly seen through the gaps between the bricks and tiles, piercing through the vast sky outside.

Looking down at the old man in the coffin, his voice, once firm, was no longer as forceful as before: "You should know why I'm here today."

Saladin's tone was so flat that it revealed no emotion whatsoever: "You've come to persuade me to join the ranks of the undead."

Throat bone: "That's right."

Saladin: "There's really no need for all this trouble. I've heard some things about the necromancers. You can force me to do it."

Throat bone: "I can do it with others, but not with you."

Saladin: "Why?"

Throat bone: "What I need is your approval; coercion is pointless."

Saladin: "Why do I need to approve?"

Throat bone: "Because you are my teacher."

A smile appeared on Saladin's face: "I don't remember ever teaching you anything."

Throat Bone: "In the past, I was obsessed with revenge, obsessed with power... It was you, it was you who taught me to broaden my horizons and pursue something bigger..."

Saladin: "This is not my achievement. Among my students, only the most outstanding ones can find their way forward in the chaos. I have only given you inspiration. What truly guides you is your own heart."

Throat bone: "This is the first time..."

Saladin: "The first time?"

Throat bone: "This is the first time I've acknowledged that I'm your student."

Saladin laughed, and even though his body was badly damaged, his laughter, mixed with coughs, still echoed throughout the entire Holy White Palace.

"Throat bone, it doesn't matter who your teacher is. The key is whether you are gradually approaching the truth in your learning process?"

The man with the throat bone extended his skeletal hands and placed them on the edge of the coffin, saying to Saladin, "How can I know that I am approaching the truth, and not moving away from it?"

Saladin did not continue with the thought dialogue. Instead, he opened his mouth with all his might, his voice weak yet firm, and said directly: "Try, correct, reflect, and try again... keep going until you... finally confirm."

Throat Bone sounded somewhat puzzled: "I remember you said before that pursuing becoming a god is an endless dead end, so why are you now encouraging me to keep trying?"

Saladin slightly raised his hand, grasped the metacarpal bone of his throat, and said, “Becoming a god… is not the ultimate goal of the pursuit of truth; it is merely a means, a method. What is truly important… is that throughout this journey, you must constantly seek the true meaning of existence.”

Why do we exist? Why do gods exist? Why does this world exist? How should everything exist in the future?

After saying this, Saladin gasped for breath, his lungs heaving like a broken bellows, and you could even hear hissing sounds coming from them.

The throat bone said to Saladin, "Stop talking. I can hear what you're thinking. This will save you energy..."

Saladin waved his hand, and under the astonished gaze of the throat bone, he actually sat up unsteadily from the coffin.

"I'm fine. In fact, I feel much better now."

As Saladin spoke, he adjusted his posture, trying to make himself more comfortable.

The throat bone helped him sit up and noticed that Saladin's face was gradually regaining some color, which made the former suddenly realize that the latter's time was running out.

The two remained silent for a while.

Throat Bone looked around the room. In the spotless white hall, there was only a huge coffin, and nothing else.

"As the Caliph of the Empire, your burial goods are even less than those of ordinary people."

Saladin waved his hand dismissively: "These are all what I requested. Rather than letting those expensive burial goods lie buried with me, it's better to distribute them to those in need, so that they can be used to their fullest potential. Besides, I've already taken something even more valuable with me."

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