Chapter 811: The Way of Snake Body Entangling the Heart
The motive that drives Red Prime Minister Peng Bonaqi to usurp the throne is not madness, willfulness, power, or desire... but his love for Xing Ti.
He loves Xingti more than anyone else.
It's just that what he loves is the original star, a love that is "engraved" like carving a boat to find a sword.
That wasn't out of love, but because of his hatred for Bashir for ascending to the dream world alone and abandoning him;
Perhaps it wasn't out of hatred, but out of disappointment that Valentine had failed to live up to his expectations.
Or perhaps it is not because of disappointment, but because of the fond remembrance of the pure struggle before the founding of the country;
But it's not because of reminiscence, but because of love.
Because of the madness and selfishness of the path of love—
"No wonder," Aleister suddenly laughed, "I've tasted a hint of decay from you before, just like the bottle of wine you kept.
"At first I thought it was an illusion. After all, you've lived for so long... People always want to reminisce about the past."
"……snort."
Pomponazzi's expression suddenly darkened.
He guessed what "Lady Bayard" wanted to say, but he did not interrupt or deny it.
Aleister looked at his expression, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly: "Sure enough, you guessed it yourself...
"—Your path has deviated and you've taken the wrong path."
That is the road above the source river of [Error]...a twilight road that symbolizes eternity and stagnation.
The concepts of "engraving" and "remembering" belong to the Lingbo Tiansi. In the case of amber rarely answering prayers, Lingbo Tiansi is the spokesperson for the twilight path.
The "old man's odor" emanating from Hong Xiang wasn't an illusion—just as rotting flesh and blood emit a foul odor that attracts flies and insects. A transcendent on the path of love, once twilight descends, will develop this demented appearance.
"Perhaps."
Pomponazzi's words gradually became sharper, no longer as polite as before: "This is also my own choice."
Perhaps it was because he had already said everything he wanted to say—as the founder of Star's most prosperous era, he looked down on the Star people of this era, like a paranoid old man arrogantly believing that "young people don't know anything" and "this era is rotten."
He even looked down on his direct descendants, those he had transformed into Moon Children, believing that they did not understand him at all and were unworthy of understanding him.
But at the same time, he had an urgent desire to talk to others - no one could share the pressure in his heart, even if it was just an unresponsive tree hole.
He expressed his distress so urgently, just like an old player who was alone in a deserted online game, looking at the densely packed gray avatars in the guild and feeling melancholy.
Looking at the random, foolish questions from the newcomers in the world channel, he could only sneer. Those were the questions he had passionately repeated countless times in the past, but now he couldn't even muster the energy to type a single word. After all, they wouldn't stay long, leaving him with no one to keep him company. They wouldn't understand the joy and excitement he had felt back when he was exploring the new land. "Games weren't like this back then."
And now, Baroness Bayard, who existed in the same imperial era as him and was a member of the same clan as him, the Son of the Moon, and whose status and position was even higher than his back then, naturally deserves the identity of "Listener".
It was like when Pomponazzi was on the verge of quitting the game, he suddenly discovered that the old guild members were back online!
——Lady Bayard, last logged in one day ago.
Naturally, Peng Bonazi would be greatly surprised and would hang online every day, hoping to catch the moment when he was online to chat with him and reminisce about the past.
And now, he has said everything he should say and missed everything he should miss.
After confirming that the past that could not be returned to was indeed gone... Pomponazzi finally let it go completely.
"If this was really your own choice, why are you so miserable and confused?"
Bayard crossed his legs, shook his wine glass, and spoke as sharp as a knife: "Or, do you really agree with Bashir's ideas from the bottom of your heart?
"The Star Antimony Way, born from the experience of an unequal empire, has brought even more inequality. Have you truly never questioned this path itself?
"The Way of Xingtan allows the capable to rise to the top—but who determines who is capable? Is it the monarch? The experts? Or simply the level of the path? Does advancing a level further on the path make them stronger? Does being stuck at a certain level mean they haven't worked hard enough, or are inherently deficient or inferior?"
"—What else?"
Pomponazzi asked in return, "Isn't that the same with the Bayard Group? Survival of the fittest, that's how nature works. Providing a relatively fair arena has already eliminated most of the unfairness."
"But the 'unfairness' you exclude is itself the greatest 'unfairness'."
Aleister refuted without hesitation: "Does a person's talent have only one direction? Does his personal success depend solely on his hard work and talent? Luck, opportunity, choice, persistence and giving up, personal performance, social support... can all these factors be ignored?
"In the Way of Star Antimony, the so-called 'successful' are constantly being compared to those above them, while the 'losers' are completely undignified. People do not openly pity the weak, for they are merely 'the eliminated,' the grains of sand sifted from the gold. Their failures are assumed to be due to either stupidity or laziness... Weakness, at this point, becomes the original sin.
"Prince Szijjártó is already quite talented as an alchemist. Having already reached the third level at this age, it's only a matter of time before he reaches the fourth level, once his understanding of the Way of Balance deepens.
Albert was undoubtedly a genius, but he also felt the pressure of the enormous expectations placed on him by society. To gain recognition within this social system, he had to constantly strive for excellence. Any personal achievements beyond his job were unacceptable and would only be considered a waste of time.
"From the outside, they are already highly successful, bona fide figures. Yet, they continue to be tormented by the expectations of others, the gazes of the masses... for they find themselves once again in a new system of evaluation, battling new powerful opponents. This cycle repeats itself, endlessly, without end. Like a snake biting its own tail, its own tail, its own tail, its tails gnawed on.
"And once they fall, their former glory becomes a sharp blade. People are eager to trample down those who have fallen from great heights, as if it proves that they are all losers. Their own failures seem to be forgiven.
"On the other hand, if someone becomes a powerful figure within this system, they naturally believe they deserve everything they receive. They naturally and rightfully deserve to enjoy all this because they are the embodiment of perfection, superior to losers in personality, essence, talent, and effort... and everyone below them is, by comparison, a loser.
“—Just like you.”
Aleister said word by word, "This is a disease, a disease of a snake-like body wrapped around a heart—the Ouroboros of the Way of Transcendence has bewitched you. It has led you on a paradoxical journey with no beginning or end, a journey that will never reach its end."
It was a posture like a Möbius strip.
Originally, Aleister believed that Xingti should generally adhere to the principle of balance.
The Royal Alchemy Association, the Demonic Society, the Spirit Tower, the Red Fort... numerous forces gathered here, maintaining a precarious balance. Any emergence of one faction would be suppressed by the others, thus spiraling upwards in this endless oscillation.
But now Aleister is deeply aware that all this is just a disguise.
The essence of the Way of Star Antimony is meritocracy, and what those alchemists pursue is the Way of Transcendence.
The only difference is that the Demonologists of the Society follow the Fallen Angels, while the Alchemists follow the Ring Angels.
As the original creator of alchemy, Huan Tiansi does have the possibility of being followed by alchemists.
"Bashir...Valentin I," Aleister asked, looking at the gloomy Pomponazzi. "He's an apostle of the Huantian Division, right?"
"So what?"
Pomponazzi defended him, as if defending himself: "From the stagnant, dead water, even the emergence of a circulating river is a kind of progress!"
"—So is this considered progress, or a form of 'transcendence'?"
Aleister continued to torture Pomponazzi.
And finally, Pomponazzi seemed to be unable to bear it any longer.
"Heh...isn't it the same with the Bayard Group?"
Pomponazi countered, "You're a family of ritualists serving the Serpent Father, yet you're marrying into a family of witches—who didn't know back then that you responded to Shadow Sky's embrace?"
Here it comes.
Aleister's heart moved, and he realized that Pomponazzi's defense was somewhat broken.
So she feigned unhappiness, frowning, and feebly defended herself, trying to pry out more secrets: "Curse and ritual... are inseparable. Both are techniques for transcendence, so what's the difference?"
"Hehe... the difference? Isn't the curse technique of the Path of Transcendence the one passed down by your Bayard family? Feeling the power of rituals is too mild, you're willing to sacrifice everything for the Path of Transcendence, drawing on talents and techniques from around the world, including curses, deception, and potions—even at the cost of betraying the Path of Transcendence itself.
"It is precisely because of these skills that the Bayard Consortium was able to reach the pinnacle of the empire in just twenty years. Every penny of your family's wealth is stained with blood and curses!
"If we are tainted by the Way of Transcendence, you have never escaped from the Way of Transcendence."
Pomponazzi tapped the armrest with his fingers, causing it to creak and crack.
He frowned slightly, looking anxious and annoyed.
Gazing at the silent Lady Bayard, Pomponazi repeatedly questioned, "Did you really go to Taichu? I think you went to the ancient Parthia Kingdom for further study. You weren't this vicious before, your words were like stabbing knives."
"I know you went to Avalon after you came back—why, were you checking on the maintenance of the curses you sold in the past? I heard you fell in love with Aiwass from the Moriarty family...Isn't this the kind of deceptive love that witches are good at?
"The curse of oblivion that afflicts the Moriarty family was originally cast by your mother! You're still holding onto the reward the first Moriarty pledged to you to fulfill this curse, right? Seven lifetimes have already passed, and the curse should be broken by now—but are you really planning to return the deposit?"
Seeing Bayard still silent, Pomponazi snorted coldly, as if he felt a little proud of his victory in words: "You may have forgotten, but I haven't forgotten -
"The sword of Clarent, which belonged to Mordred in the past, is in your possession, right? But have you ever returned it to Aiwass? I think... I don't think so."
"That's enough."
Aleister breathed a sigh of satisfaction.
"—That's enough."
Peng Bonazi frowned and replied in a low voice: "I've had enough of talking to you.
"I am disappointed, Lady Bayard. I thought we were of the same kind..."
A bloodthirsty and murderous dark red glow shone in his pupils.
Update completed!
(End of this chapter)
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