Chapter 539: Wizard Tower Blueprint, Elegy of a Civilization

Ah Ya hugged her tightly, tears streaming silently down her face. “Yes! It’s… a great being… saying goodbye to us…”

The other survivors also stopped what they were doing.

Some fell to their knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Others stood frozen in place, faces slick with tears but unable to make a sound.

Some clung tightly to the children or partners beside them, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.

There was no clamor, no chaos, only the sound of whimpering shrouded in immense sorrow.

In the sky, the rain of golden light grew denser, finally coalescing into a colossal, indistinct female apparition.

The apparition was immense, suspended high in the celestial vault.

Her silhouette was gentle, her long hair cascaded like a river of stars, and her eyes flowed with endless compassion and grief.

She looked down upon the ravaged land.

A voice, filled with infinite age and a sense of finality, echoed in the depths of every person’s Soul.

“My children… I can no longer protect you…”

At that moment, all the survivors understood. Throughout a thousand years of darkness, their mother world had never abandoned them.

She had used her final strength to hold up the Starlight Barrier and protect them.

They weren’t abandoned orphans, but children held tightly in the arms of their dying mother, shielded by her very body.

And now, their mother could hold on no longer.

After a thousand years of desperate struggle, what awaited them was not the rebirth of their home, but their mother world’s final farewell.

BOOM. It was as if something had collapsed in the depths of every person’s Soul.

It was the last pillar of support they had, the final definition of the concept of “home.”

Ah Ya hugged her sister tightly, great, hot tears soaking the girl’s clothes.

She thought of the relatives who had died from the corruption, of the endless darkness underground, of their longing for the surface and the sun…

Now, she was about to lose another great being.

A sorrow deeper than despair engulfed everyone.

They had lost their home, lost their civilization, and now, they were about to lose their mother world as well.

From this day forward, they would be adrift like rootless weeds, traveling to a strange world, carrying the memory of an entire civilization on their backs.

From now on, they would be true, homeless wanderers.

The World Will’s final message pointed to Ian, who was suspended high in the air, his body wreathed in the Starlight of Order.

“Go to a new home… Take the Flame of Civilization… and live…”

“This is… my final blessing…”

The apparition began to dissipate, starting from its edges, dissolving into billions of golden motes of light.

The motes rained down, scattering across the land.

A portion of them surged toward Ian, coalescing before him into a fist-sized golden orb.

Inside the orb, the aura of the World Origin was as vast as an ocean.

Although it was only one percent of its peak state, for a Morning Star Wizard, it was an astronomical fortune.

The other portion transformed into countless fine streams of light, flowing into every survivor.

They merged with their bodies, with their souls.

Purifying their bloodlines, mending their hidden injuries, extending their lifespans, and enhancing their potential.

Ian silently accepted the orb. He could feel the pure World Origin it contained.

He also clearly “heard” the final sigh of the great Will before it faded completely.

With her final dissolution and gift, she completed the handover of the Flame of Civilization and also paid the “remuneration” for her deal with Ian.

“Everyone, listen to my command!”

Lumina shot to her feet. Though tear tracks still stained her face, her eyes held a martyr’s resolve.

“Take stock of all supplies! Seal all scriptures and relics! We will follow His Eminence Ian and leave this place!”

There were no cheers, no questions—only silent, swift obedience amid the dead quiet.

Silently, the people wrapped the tattered scrolls that recorded the script, technology, and history of the Starlight Empire in oilcloth. They tucked away ancient artifacts left by their ancestors, their purposes perhaps long forgotten, keeping them close.

With every touch of these objects that carried the memory of their civilization, the emptiness and weight in their hearts grew.

They weren’t just packing their belongings. They were hammering the final nail into their civilization’s coffin, and then hoisting it themselves to carry it toward an unknown, foreign graveyard.

The old chief, hands trembling, caressed the faded patterns left on the rock wall by his ancestors, tears streaming down his aged face.

He began to hum an ancient song—its melody strange, nearly lost to time.

It was a song of the starry sky and the rivers.

His voice was hoarse and unpleasant, yet the young people who heard it felt a pain as if their very souls were being torn apart.

Ian floated in the air, taking it all in.

He spread his arms, and his Domain expanded like a transparent piece of amber, enveloping Deep Rock City and the 620,000 survivors in its thirty-seven strongholds.

Inside the Domain, the flow of Time was slowed, and space was stabilized.

“Prepare for transport,” Ian’s calm voice sounded.

Then, he raised a hand and tore a massive fissure in the space before him.

On the other side of the fissure was the clear, azure sky of the Profound Yellow World, and a vast, safe plain.

He took one last look at Estelle World.

The dark sun in the sky extinguished its last glimmer of light. The Earth sank amidst silent fissures, and the once-glorious mountains and rivers dissipated into fundamental dust.

There was no great roar, only a collapse on the level of Rules—a slow, irreversible descent into the quiet of the Void.

A World Will that had struggled for a thousand years and sheltered its people for a thousand years was extinguished.

A once-brilliant civilization, along with its mother world, had met its end, both physically and symbolically.

Ian turned. Using his Gravity Domain, he enveloped the 620,000 survivors who carried the weight of their civilization and stepped into the spatial fissure.

Behind them, the aftershock of their home’s shattering Annihilation became a silent dirge echoing in the survivors’ memories.

The very moment the World Will perished, a massive, indistinct, azure figure slowly materialized outside the world.

It was the Profound Yellow Will. It had finally waited for this moment.

The figure grew more and more solid, finally taking the form of a pair of hands that blotted out the sun and sky, slowly lifting the entirety of Estelle World…