Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 363: Life in the Dark

Chapter 363: Life in the Dark

The youth believed themselves to be invincible till they saw a greater wall. After that, they became obedient. Eager to please.

That was the case here or on Earth. Human nature was the same.

"—the most powerful participants get to live there! There’s only one arena on the 99th floor, and that’s where the biggest fights happen! Have you heard the stories of the Kingslayer? He fought all his challenges there! Agh, what I would do to see him in action!"

The blabbering boy had lost his fear. To have someone to listen to him like this had never happened. He was eager to please and tell.

"You still believe in the Kingslayer?"

"Everyone does! Why wouldn’t we? It’s not like he died! When he comes back, he’s going to kill soooo many people. I can’t wait for it!"

"Me too," Dasha said. "Who is your favourite?"

"Well," Mùchén said, tone dropping, "there’s Princess Liuying on the 91st floor. I LOVE her. She’s ruthless. I saw her fight once—sliced some wannabe martial artist’s arms off. Then she created a stake and tortured him with her Qi Blade. It was brutal!"

Mùchén laughed.

"That must have been fun."

"It was!" His eyes did not hold a tinge of anxiety. "I usually only get to watch the early floors so to see the princess in action was awesome! It’s kind of a thing here too; your first strong fighters tend to be your favourite."

"Mm. You wish to participate some day."

"Do I!? To be able to participate in the Dark Tower and make it past the beginning floors as a prodigy...that’s my goal!"

"You think yourself a prodigy?"

"Yes!"

"Why not go now then? I was impressed by your speed."

"Hehe, really?"

"Really. You lack money?"

"It...well...yeah," Mùchén admitted. "You need ten gold coins to participate. The most I’ve had was eleven and I got that much after a month of no food. I couldn’t fight even if I wanted to in that condition."

"Believe in yourself," Dasha said. "You are fast. With a knife like this..." From his sleeve, Dasha slipped out a knife and handed it over to the wide-eyed boy. "...you could do very well."

"W-woah!" The boy’s finger went along the sharp side. His skin pricked and suddenly bled. "This metal...it’s...wow, it’s gotta be B-class!"

It wasn’t.

"Thank you, sir! I-I won’t forget this."

"I know you won’t."

Mùchén continued examining the knife excitedly. Dasha watched emptily and stared at the reflection.

"Would you allow me a story?"

"Oh, I love stories! Is it about a fight!?" Mùchén asked, already listening with both ears.

"Once, there was a boy, much like you. Very shrewd and cunning and smart. His mind was undoubtedly his greatest gift. So great that his parents both feared and worshiped him. One day, the boy discovered how to live forever with a drink. But by himself, he could not make the drink, so he asked others to help. First there was his tutor. She couldn’t help. He walked past her and met an elderly professor that worked riddles. What do you think the professor did?"

"Help...him?"

"Yes. Yes, he did. The elderly professor was able to help get the boy some ingredients. They talked, they laughed, they worked together quite well. The elderly was like him, a genius. Unfortunately, he died before he could completely help the boy. He left him with a riddle, ’Great men never make bad use of their superiority; they see it, and feel it, and are not less modest. The more they have, the more they know their own deficiencies.’ So the boy walked past him. He never attended the funeral. The boy did not want to waste time, after all. He went around and kept finding teachers and people to help him make the drink. And when he found the last ingredient, the boy realized something."

"What? What?"

"His professor’s last words were not a riddle at all. It was a warning. That to get rid of his only deficiency meant to not be human." Dasha eyed Mùchén next. "What do you think the boy did next?"

"He ignored him?"

"Correct. The boy consumed the immortal drink and became an adult. Nothing could kill him." Dasha’s gaze left him again and drifted to the knife. "What do you think the moral of the story is so far?"

"Haha, that the old professor was an idiot. Why wouldn’t someone want to become immortal!" Mùchén grinned. "I bet you’re telling me to go for my dreams, right? To keep fighting no matter what anyone says! I get it! With this knife..." Slash! The knife went to and fro. "I’ll kill ’em and get what I want! I’ll be an immortal warrior remembered for all of history!"

"Ah, but there lies the problem, doesn’t it? Is anything in this world endless?"

Mùchén stopped. "Huh?"

"Are the gods endless? Or this very universe? What about your own memories?"

Mùchén tilted his head, lost.

"At the end of the story, the boy ended up dying due to a flaw in his formula. A tiny one-in-a-centillion heart attack that caused his very nerves to implode. Because you see, that was the only flaw of the formula. It ended age, it ended all disease, yet it could not stop being human. It could not stop being deficient, like humans are and will always. Like all things things are. Like all of reality is. So tell me, do you still believe in your dream?"

"I, um..."

"You should." Dasha’s index finger touches the tip of the knife. "The end comes for everyone. Whether you are a god or human, it makes no difference. What matters is being able to do what you can in your time. To be able to make an impact. Like that boy, who met so many people, befriended so many people, and told so many people about the drink. After his death, all they can do is mourn and beg for him to return and re-make it. And maybe someday...he will."

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