Return

His floating consciousness gradually withdrew, and when Mason finally regained his consciousness, he was standing in front of a path. His empty palms felt slightly heavy, and he looked down and found that he was holding a dagger and a mask.

They must have been away from him for some time, but they are still in extremely good condition without any signs of wear and tear.

Mason stared at them for a while, then put them away and looked around. Space seemed to have lost its meaning here. The path in front of him was built in the endless darkness, winding into the distance. But now, it has been cut off by a huge crack.

Looking down, the black fog was rolling, the pollution was spreading, and the terrifying scene was daunting. A flew out of the young man's arms and automatically unfolded in the air. The pages of the book flipped, and the remaining words on them were replaced rapidly. Finally, this brand new story stopped at the last sentence. Under Mason's gaze, the words on the cover changed.

The title was changed from "Little Goblin Pika" to "A Mysterious Priest Named Canaan". Below it was the author of Pika, and the byline was written crookedly under the title: "This is my finished story, and it is a never-ending story for the person who saved me."

"This handwriting is so ugly, it looks like a goblin didn't practice calligraphy well."

Mason couldn't help but smile at the clumsy strokes. Then, it emitted a brilliant light. The phantom sound of water drops sounded from below, and at the end of the black mist, a bright light appeared, connecting with the light of the book, forming a road. Huge mushrooms and green grass grew on both sides of the road. The moment Mason saw it, he realized what it was.

"So, why is it always Alice in Wonderland?"

He couldn't help but complain. He didn't expect to get an answer, but it flickered. A scene emerged in the light: a silver-haired young man standing in the cave was giving a prophecy to three believers. What flashed through his mind was a young child in his previous life who was reading a book and reading: "So Alice followed the rabbit and began to look for the way home..."

Mason looked at the familiar yet strange child quietly, revealing a bit of nostalgia: "So, in fact, the source of everything is still me. Yes, when I said that there would be a rabbit to guide, I did think of Alice."

He paused for a moment, and finally asked the question that time travelers have always asked: "Do I still have a chance to go back?"

The book did not reply. Or rather, it simply presented a fragment of a story that was not fully recorded in the book. Mason waited for a while, shook his head, and was not too disappointed.

If I could just go back at will, it would be a bit disrespectful to time travel. With a carefree attitude, Mason stepped onto the path of light and headed towards the bottom of the black mist. The surging mist and light eroded each other, making a harsh sizzling sound.

The young man walked deeper into the crack, and the mist obscured his way. But far above the crack, a vast and brilliant galaxy quietly emerged.

They look down at the cracks beneath their feet, some of which are extinguished, and some are reborn, but the former always outnumber the latter. In the seemingly endless cycle, one star emits a brighter light than before.

It cast a ray of its light on the ignorant silver-haired young man, until he stepped into the small glimmer of light at the bottom of the crack, and the star continued to illuminate him.

......

"How was your day?"

The clergyman who was taking over asked through the thin light screen. The clergyman sitting in front of the chair shook his head, looking worried: "Nothing happened. I hope the Holy Son and the others are fine."

The former immediately shook his head: "Impossible, that's the Son of God. How could he not be able to deal with even a small pollutant? It must just take some time."

"That's not the way to say it. Have you forgotten the previous Son of God? I'm just worried."

The latter wrote "Day 3, nothing unusual" on the surveillance report, and sighed slightly: "We have finally waited for the new Son of God. What if those lunatics knew about this and set a trap to kill the Son of God?"

This possibility is not impossible, but very likely. The substitute clergyman was silent for a while, then reached out and patted his companion on the shoulder: "Don't worry, the Pope will definitely solve these problems."

“I hope so.”

The other party smiled bitterly, stood up and put away the things on the table. In just three days, this room had been transformed into a fully equipped observation room, with people guarding and recording all day long.

Unlike other fallen clergy, the Son of God disappeared with his body. This frightened the clergy present at the time, and Santo hurriedly arranged the scene, contacted the church, and set this place as a key area.

Two people were talking, and one of them inadvertently looked at the other side of the light screen and suddenly widened his eyes.

"I have already written the record for this time, you just need to follow my format...what are you looking at?"

The other one also looked over and suddenly widened his eyes.

The pollutants floating in the air were shaking, and the surging black mist disappeared into the air. The unconscious believers on the ground uttered a sigh and slowly opened their eyes.

Behind them, the place where the books were originally floating was now empty, replaced by a silver-haired young man.

The monitor hurriedly reached for the pollution monitor on the table and said, "The concentration of the black fog has been detected to be decreasing and has fallen to a safe level. Quickly inform Master Santo that the Holy Son and the unconscious person are back!"

Mason stood there quietly, watching the two people busying themselves. Suddenly he heard the voices of the church members, and he felt a bit like waking up from a long dream. Although the matter of the goblin pickup truck had been resolved, the follow-up treatment was even more troublesome.

After receiving the news, Santo rushed over with a large number of professionals. The various inspections and inquiries alone made the young man busy and dizzy. It was not easy to resolve the whole matter based on hiding the leaf of the world tree.

After completing a series of investigations, Santo saw that he was a little tired, so he asked Mason to rest first. He continued to lead people to question the remaining believers.

Mason did not refuse this convenience. After returning to the room, he immediately lay down on the bed and sank his consciousness into the darkness. Following the familiar guidance, he once again stood in the dilapidated circular ruins.

In front of the World Tree standing in the center, there was a leaf of the same emerald green floating. When Mason touched the leaf of the old World Tree, it swayed slightly, creating a strange connection with the entire young World Tree.

The world in sight is once again divided into countless lines, which occupy every inch of space with flowing colors.

And where the World Tree stands is like a gorgeous waterfall, in which you can find any color you can imagine.

These lines interweave to form a perfect and orderly shape, like countless tributaries converging into an ocean, or like a lush tree growing out luxuriant branches.

All things originate from it and end with it. Three of the tributaries are more prominent than the others. In Mason's perception, they are connected to the main body and the two vests respectively, revealing a vigorous vitality.

When the old leaves merged into the waterfall, one of the three tributaries suddenly began to grow. It gracefully extended to the rear and then split into countless fine branches, which were inserted into the distribution of the entire waterfall.

This was a very small but definitely not negligible change. As it grew stronger, the silver-haired young man lying on the bed unconsciously also underwent subtle changes. His body became more slender and powerful, and his temperament had a unique flavor.

If Canaan had told the story of the guardian of the world tree before, most people would have thought he was a liar. But now he is like an elegant ancient painting that has slowly walked out of ancient history. Just standing there, people can glimpse the noble figure that was admired by thousands of people when he was alive, as described in the story.

A sudden change is happening silently, and the track from the past overlaps with the present. When the old leaf is completely integrated with the world tree, this tributary has gone a longer way than the other tributaries.

It recites the story of the priest Canaan in poetry, like a storm stirred up by butterfly wings, revising the future and the present from the perspective of the past.

Mason blinked, and the colorful scene in front of him suddenly returned to normal. The leaves in his hand had disappeared, and the overall height of the World Tree had risen by more than one degree. The branches and leaves were lush, at least enough for him to hide under the tree and bask in the sun.

As the World Tree grew, the constant feedback was transforming Mason's perception, allowing him to devote more energy to more finely control his vest. But Mason was rarely unhappy about this, and he focused all his attention on thinking about what he had just seen.

If each tributary represents a vest...

He clicked his shell, and his high-speed mental power was like a large computer, analyzing everything he saw in detail, allowing Mason to quickly realize what he had previously overlooked and correct his conclusion.

No, it should be said that each vest symbolizes a tributary. Whether he created this vest or not, this tributary will exist. The vest he created is at most a spokesperson.

So what do they represent?

Mason thought of Pica's shout. Whether it was the goblin who went to such great lengths to disguise himself as a rabbit and enter the story just to pass on a message to the World Tree of the past, or the words the Pope repeatedly mentioned in front of him, they all had to do with the same word.

the way!

If this world was originally a normal Western fantasy world, then when the black fog appeared, the original world order had collapsed. The corrupted world tree had no future, and the road he saw when he left had been cut off by holes eroded by the black fog.

But the newly born World Tree did not give up. This world is on the verge of destruction, and all creatures are looking for ways to continue and survive.

The church proposed the idea of ​​creating a man-made God, but the taboo in the dark mist cut short its first attempt.

Countless resistance and destruction since then can be regarded as the struggle of the road. From ancient times to the present, the black mist has been committed to destroying this world, while the latter has always been striving to survive.

Mason pinched the bridge of his nose. If what he had just seen was the composition of the World Tree, the tributaries symbolized part of its composition.

Canaan was chosen by the church not just because of his ability, but because he himself symbolizes a path! This path is consistent with faith, so the Lord of all things and all power chose him in the first place!

Sure enough, everything was arranged by fate. After thinking this through, Mason couldn't help but let out a long sigh, finally understanding the reason why Canaan was connected with the church.

I have temporarily dealt with the spoils on hand, and will see if there is anything else that needs to be resolved. I have been away for three days, and I hope nothing serious has happened.

Mason transferred his consciousness to the original body. Even if his consciousness was not here, the mental power he left behind could support the daily life of the seriously ill and disabled people.

After the initial temper tantrum, the Viscount's parents were obviously more cautious with their son, and they spent the three days in peace. Mason calmed down his initial temper and comforted them with some guilt for a few days, and the relationship between the two sides eased again.

After making sure there were no problems that needed to be solved immediately, Mason planned to deal with this later as he had another important task to do right now.

He turned his consciousness to Orelius and carefully sorted out what happened in his memory. He found that things had become very interesting during the three days he was away.

In the courtyard of the dilapidated farmhouse, the red-haired young man leaning against a tree suddenly raised his eyebrows and laughed with an ambiguous tone. The brown-haired girl sitting not far away paused for a moment, raised her eyes, and met the young man's dark golden eyes.

"Hey, good morning, Shatria."

Shatria replied expressionlessly: "It is already noon."

"Hahaha, actually I don't think there is much difference. After all, for someone who just woke up, good morning, good afternoon, and good evening actually mean the same thing: Hello, Shatria, nice to meet you."

Oleus stretched lazily, as if he had just woken up, with a frivolous smile on his face. But the girl who had seen him clean up the tainted beast would definitely not think that he was harmless.

The green pupils shrank slightly, recalling the brutal killing methods of the opponent before. Even the girl who was used to all kinds of crazy things didn't want to see such a scene again.

She was silent for a while, then asked, "Who made you unhappy?"

"Hmm? No, nothing. I just remembered something happy. But I do need your help."

The red-haired young man shrugged nonchalantly and said with a smile: "Do you know where Shaken is now?"