Chapter 671 The True Legacy
An endless wave of fatigue swept over Jelia, who opened her mouth as darkness engulfed her vision.
The last sound she heard was something hitting the water, creating ripples.
...
Consciousness felt like it was passing through a long tunnel, with dazzling points of light in the distance.
It seemed to move yet made no progress in getting closer.
Spinning, twisting, consciousness was deformed under some external force, something being etched onto it and then something else being erased.
Was it... memories?
Jelia gradually started to regain consciousness, attempting to sense her surroundings.
And as she tried, her eyes opened.
The first things to greet her retinas were the soft, bright light and the pure white ceiling, its boundaries indiscernible.
Did I succeed?
This question flashed through Jelia's mind, then was affirmed by reality.Updated from n0velb(i)n.c(o)/m
I succeeded!
She had successfully left that cavern!
That cavern was indeed not a real place but a world completely constructed of illusions!
It was a manipulation of their senses, simulating reality!
Moving her hand, Jelia touched her body, finding her clothes intact, limbs in place, and her belongings still with her.
She also felt where she lay, which felt like jade but not quite—lacking the warmth and delicate smoothness of jade.
Gathering strength, Jelia sat up from the platform, scanning her surroundings.
It appeared to be a hall, with a sphere of light floating in the center, surrounded by several white stone platforms—the same kind Jelia was lying on.
On the platforms lay figures, none of whom showed signs of awakening.
Was this the true location of the legacy?
Jelia's gaze naturally gravitated towards the floating orb of light.
A voice echoed in her mind.
"For three hundred years, you are the first outsider to reach here."
The voice sounded like that of a middle-aged man, but clearly, in a place sealed off for who knows how long, if there were to be anyone, they'd likely be mad, incapable of speaking so coherently.
"Is this the true legacy?"
Jelia jumped down from the stone platform, adjusting her cloak and placing a hand on the shortsword at her waist.
"Yes, this is indeed the true site of the legacy. Only those who successfully break through the illusionary trial are worthy of receiving the legacy here."
The middle-aged voice was calm and magnetic, the kind that might incite screams among groups of girls.
But for Jelia, it held no allure.
"Young girl, do you know how the Orc United Empire was destroyed?"
Jelia took a half step back, shaking her head: "I don't know."
The situation seemed grim; she hadn't expected to escape the madness of Roronora only to encounter another lunatic here.
"The Orc United Empire was a nation established and ruled entirely by orcs, wasn't it? Why do you seem to despise it so much?" Jelia's question made the figure's cold laugh stop.
He paused, waved his hand dismissively: "Those are all old stories, best left unmentioned.
But you, young girl, seem quite indifferent towards my legacy."
"This is the culmination of a special-level magus's life's work and knowledge. Grasping it fully would make becoming a level 1 magus effortless, a position above tens of thousands! Don't you crave power?"
Code 1's voice carried a hint of temptation, but Jelia shook her head: "Of course, I desire power. It would be wonderful to have the strength to do whatever I want. But I also know that if something isn't meant for you, you shouldn't touch it, or else there will be a price to pay."
"This legacy should belong to the Werewolves, not me."
"All I want now is to leave this place and return to reality. My companion must be anxiously searching for me by now."
Jelia's voice was soft, still carrying the youthful timbre of a child, yet the depth and meaning of her words seemed beyond what a girl of her apparent age could conjure.
"You're very rational, perhaps overly so."
The figure shook his head.
"This legacy was indeed initially intended for Werewolves, but as you've seen, the era of the orcs has passed. Finding a qualified successor has become exceedingly difficult."
"Over three hundred years, nearly eighty orcs have entered this legacy, but only you have stood before me."
"Initially, I indeed restricted entry to Werewolves, but a hundred years ago, I already loosened the entry requirements. Any orc had the chance to trigger the legacy."
Despite Code 1's explanation, Jelia merely shook her head calmly.
"There are alternatives, aren't there?"
Her gaze drifted toward the stone platform where Roronora's body lay.
"If I'm not mistaken, that world wasn't just about environmental trials, was it? Those who could see through the illusion certainly qualify to receive the legacy, but obtaining the crystal in that environment would also qualify, right?"
The figure seemed to pause for a moment, then chuckled softly: "You noticed that too? I'm growing more impressed by you. Little girl, can you tell me what kind of half-orc you are? This is the memory of a half-orc's legacy; no half-orc could mistake their own race."
Jelia gave a name.
The figure chuckled dryly, "No wonder, no wonder you could trigger the legacy without being a magus, no wonder you could see through my arrangements. I was rude before; I will open the exit for you right away."
"Your time and life should belong to someone more worthwhile."
"You finally said something useful."
Jelia smiled and then asked, "What about Roronora? Do you plan to keep him locked up forever? He won't die, will he?"
Code 1 slowly said, "As long as he hasn't given up, the mice won't completely disappear. Even without mice, there will always be other food. After all, living in his own obsession is enough for him."
"How cruel."
"I have no heart. Compassion, such a luxurious emotion, does not belong to me."
"Then how about handing Roronora over to me?" Jelia ventured, "Give the legacy to him, then hand him over to me. This way, your legacy isn't lost, and there's someone to discipline him."
"Is that what you were planning?"