Chapter 491.1
Life is a Cycle
There was no one else there.
The place was quiet, still, secluded, and empty.
It was so quiet that it seemed as if time had stopped.
In such a place, sitting alone on a throne, [he] looked at his aged and wrinkled hands. DiiScôver new stories on no/v/e()/lbin(.)com
He had spent most of his time with his body in human form, in accordance with his friends who had already died, but his pseudo body had also aged to this extent.
He could no longer move his body satisfactorily.
He ached here and there, he was too lazy to move, and the enormous flow of magic power in his body had stagnated.
It took him a long time to perform a single magic, and his body had deteriorated to the point where he was no longer as strong as he was in his prime.
Furthermore, his body could no longer withstand the excess amount of magic power, and he started to feel pain when he tried to invoke something.
He laughed, got up from his throne, and walked, dragging his body, which was not moving the way he wanted it to.
Slowly making his way down the long, wide corridor, he eventually caught sight of the endless blue sky and the warm sunlight.
A gentle breeze caressed his cheeks as it passed by, swaying the grass in the meadow spreading out before him.
It was a landscape that always made his heart warm.
A world full of life.
Death came to all, who live, equally.
Even the one who was called God could not foresee what would happen after death, nor could he know anything.
But what was there to be afraid of?
The life that he had built up would be inscribed in the world, circulated, and connected to the world.
Death was not the end, but the beginning of a new life.
“It was a good life!”
He opened his mouth wide and laughed.