Chapter 196: Mwah

Chapter 196: Chirp

Yilu took out his notebook from the room, holding the two thick volumes tightly in his arms as he walked back to Pine Mountain.

The deity was in a foul mood, and all the plants along the way bowed their heads, their branches and leaves trembling and huddling together, squeezing out a path.

The soul in his palm seemed to sense the deity's low spirits, crouching helplessly and quietly, its dandelion-like down drooping, looking very uneasy.

Yilu pinched it gently with his fingertips, rubbing the light ball softly, like petting a cat. The deity softened his voice, "Don't be afraid, why would you fear me?"

Percy had already been in such a state in his hands, having committed such a grave act of defiance, why should he still fear him?

Though Yilu lacked common sense, he knew that in other races, it was usually the subordinate who served the superior, meaning Percy should have served him in that manner, and the reverse would be considered disrespectful.

Although Yilu didn't care, he pursed his lips, feeling a bit at a loss.

So, Yilu applied a little more pressure, pinching the light ball.

Bad Percy.

Light ball: "Goo?"

The little light ball couldn't understand what the Mother Deity was thinking; he could only feel the Mother Deity's acceptance and affection. Thus, after the deity's fingertip retracted for a moment, it quietly extended its body, its down tentatively brushing against the fingertip, like a cat seeking attention.

Yilu let it rub against his fingertip, "Do you like me so much?"

The light ball hesitated, pulling its down closer, as if tilting its head in thought. But the elf's consciousness was still asleep, acting purely on instinct, unable to think. Seeing that the deity did not withdraw his hand, it climbed up again, clinging tightly.

The deity chuckled.

Yilu thought, "Percy in this state is truly adorable."

So different from the serious, rigid, and rule-bound Elf King.

They trekked through the valleys of the mountains, climbed the endless peaks, and from the summit, they overlooked the entire Pine Mountain. Before them lay a vast, undulating primeval forest, where spruces and alpine azaleas grew in a staggered pattern, while iron ferns and ground orchids sprawled at their feet. At the end of their line of sight, in the river valley, stood a colossal tree that pierced the sky.

The Mother Tree of the elves.

As soon as Yilu saw the Mother Tree, the soul in his palm began to stir subtly, as if excited. But as they drew closer, it wilted and shrank back, as if fearing something.

The deity could only soothe it with his fingertips: "It's okay, it's okay, Percy, we're home."

The forest was vast, and it took the deity another half month to return to the base of the Mother Tree.

The human body was placed inside the fruit of the Mother Tree, which then closed quietly. The deity returned to the Mother Tree, while Percy's soul drifted to the hollow part beneath the tree canopy.

That was where the deity stored souls, where all the elves awaiting rebirth rested.

Yilu returned to the tree canopy and spent half a day stabilizing his body.

66 clung to the white cocoon bed at the center of the canopy, and the deity lay peacefully on the cocoon, his silver hair cascading over the edge. Then, a slender hand propped up his forehead, and Yilu sat up half-way.

His feet felt unsteady, slightly uncomfortable, and he steadied himself by holding onto the cocoon bed as he stood up.

66 perched on the deity's shoulder: "Lord Yilu, what's next?"

Yilu: "Percy should be awake now; let's go see."

Souls that have experienced death need to rest within the trunk, absorbing vitality and waiting for rebirth. That dazed little light orb should have woken up by now.

Most of the revived souls had lost their memories, but Percy was an exception. The Mother Goddess had preserved his memory and nurtured him within the tree trunk.

The deity glanced at the mirror and murmured to herself, "I wonder if Percy will recognize me."

The deity's form was only seven-tenths similar to that of the young man, with hair and eye colors that were entirely different.

As she spoke, Ilu gathered her long, trailing hair and walked down the wooden spiral staircase, barefoot, heading toward the hollow of the tree trunk.

*

Percy opened his eyes, greeted by a blinding white light.

Dazed and disoriented, his mind struggled to think, his soul drifting like a boat on the vast sea.

He thought hazily, "Am I dead? Am I dissipating?"

The elf remembered the sensation of death, losing control in unfamiliar ecstasy, closing his eyes, awaiting dissolution...

But now?

The orb of light looked around in confusion, suddenly contracting.

Tree trunk, hollow, golden patterns, countless undulating souls,

This is the Mother Tree.

The orb of light froze in place.

...How could I return to the Mother Tree?

An overwhelming despair spread, threatening to engulf him. Though he was a bodiless soul, Percy felt a chill, helplessly retreating and huddling in the corner.

Am I to endure it all again?

The loathing of the Mother Goddess, the rejection from my kin, those unyielding, unbearable truths that I am powerless to change—am I to face them once more?

The branches of the Mother Tree are the purest of spaces, where elven souls drift like infants in amniotic fluid. This is the origin of life, a sanctuary free from harm, where all souls float in peace, basking in the tranquility before birth.

Percy, however, could not stop trembling. Countless thoughts collided within him, and a terrifying idea began to take shape, crystallizing in his mind.

Indeed, gray-black souls would dissipate, but no one knew in what form they would do so.

The elves of Songshan possess the most resilient souls in the world, immune to the soul-targeting curses of the human realm. So, in what form would such a soul dissipate?

Would it be by returning to the Mother Tree, judged and utterly shattered by the divine?

What does it feel like to have one’s soul shattered? Percy did not know, and there were no records on the continent, but he imagined it must be excruciating.

Moreover, he would have to face the divine again.

The light orb examined itself.

Its downy fur was faintly gray, not obvious, but compared to the surrounding pure white souls, it appeared terribly tainted.

...Already despised, would appearing before the divine in this form only increase that disdain?

Though he had no body, his heart clenched into a tight knot, and the light orb withered, curling up motionless.

But then, the tree trunk stirred.

The previously calm little orbs of light surged toward the entrance, radiating emotions of “joy” and “delight,” like infants yearning for their mother’s embrace. Percy quietly sensed the slight commotion at the entrance.

The first to appear was a strand of silver hair, which was then swept up, followed by the sight of a deity’s toes.

Ilu stepped barefoot on the wooden floor, one hand lifting the silver hair, the other raising the hem of his pure white robe to avoid stepping on it, and he descended step by step.

Percy could not bear to look anymore.

In a spiritual state, one is inherently more fragile than in a physical form. In that moment, helplessness and grievance surged within him, nearly overwhelming him.

...Why, even in death, must it be like this? Why must I face the deity again? Why can’t I just dissipate?

I will be hated.

Plop.

Percy had never known that a soul could weep, let alone wet a small patch of fluff, making it clump together.

...Even uglier now.

The light orb slunk toward the corner of the wall.

On the stairs, Ilu also saw Percy in the corner.

Huddled in the corner, occupying only a tiny space, Percy resembled a small hedgehog trying to curl itself up tightly, as if whispering, “Don’t look at me, don’t look at me.”

So, the deity brushed aside countless little light points that had gathered around and stopped at the corner, crouching down halfway.

The shadow cast over him, the light orb shrank tighter, and the deity asked softly, “Percy?”

“...”

No response.

The deity said again, "Percy?"

Still no response.

So the deity extended a finger and poked the withdrawn orb, which felt like a fuzzy jelly, extremely pleasant to touch. He pushed the orb back and forth, saying, "Percy, come onto my hand. I'll take you upstairs, okay?"

The souls on this level were in a deep sleep, devoid of memory and consciousness. It would be better for Percy to live with him in the treetop for now.

As he spoke, the deity opened his palm, waiting for the orb's reaction.

But the orb only shrank tighter into itself.

...Is taking me upstairs a form of punishment?

The treetop was where the deity lived alone. Ilu was lazy and reclusive, never allowing other souls into his private domain. Thus, the elves' inherited memories did not include the concept that the upper part of the trunk was the deity's residence.

Ilu didn't urge Percy during his pause, maintaining his open-palmed stance as he waited for the orb's response.

"..."

"Forget it," Percy thought listlessly. "Dragging this out is pointless. There should be an end to this, and keeping the Mother Goddess waiting is already very impolite."

So the orb rubbed against the ground, then moved again, inching out from the corner and onto the deity's palm.

Ilu lifted him up, rubbing gently with his thumb, feeling a slightly damp sensation at his fingertips. He paused, bringing the orb closer to his eyes, frowning as he examined it.

—What happened in just a few hours?

The souls in the canopy were well-behaved; though they occasionally jostled each other, they rarely fought. Was Percy being bullied by them?

A small, tearful lump, not knowing where the tears came from.

And in the silver eyes of the deity, Percy saw his own reflection.

—A grayish-black, wilted, and deflated orb of light.

Ugly.

At every previous ceremony and ritual, regardless of his state of mind, Percy always dressed formally. His expression was always gentle, his manners always graceful, and his posture always dignified. This was the first time he appeared before the deity in such a disheveled state.

"..."

The orb visibly became even more distressed.

The deity didn't understand what was wrong with his elf. He tilted his head, gently cradling it as he navigated through the clusters of light points, stepping back onto the stairs and ascending to the upper level.

The deity's hand was steady, and the orb cautiously peeked out.

The so-called "execution ground" was not dark or gloomy. It was open on all sides, with tree trunks and vines forming structures like windows. A thin barrier covered the area, allowing light and air to pass through.

The room was clean and tidy. Beside the stairs stood wicker tables and chairs, with wine and honey on the table. The honey, made from the nectar of high mountain rhododendrons, had a clear, bright yellow color, filling the air with a sweet fragrance. In the center was a cocoon-like soft bed, covered with cushions, and on top of the cushions lay silk blankets and quilts.

"..."

This wasn't an "execution ground"; this was the deity's residence.

The orb remained quietly in the deity's palm, lost and helpless.

... Why bring him here?

Then, he was placed on the blanket.

The bed and blanket were incredibly soft; the light orb fell back into them, unable to find any support, unable even to float, and could only be nestled in the embrace of the blanket, looking helplessly at Ilu.

It seemed a bit impolite.

But the deity had already sat down.

There was no dust within the barrier, it was a pristine "dust-free land." Ilu gathered his robe and sat directly on the ground, resting his elbow on the bed, his gaze level with the light orb.

The deity pinched him, then pinched him again, fondling him with affection. "What's wrong, Percy? What happened?"

"..."

Since sinking into the soft cushion, the light orb had been completely dazed, allowing the deity’s fingertips to touch and prod him, without responding.

In truth, in a soul state, one couldn’t speak.

During this daze, the deity had already stroked the favored elf from head to toe, his fingertips lingering on the fur, touching the damp spots, drying them one by one.

"Alright," Ilu sighed softly.

Though he didn’t know what had happened to Percy, he clearly looked very upset and in need of comfort.

Ilu had worked as a bartender in a tavern for several months and had read the entire Hero’s Notebook, so he had a rough idea of how people comforted their dispirited companions. This method was a bit unconventional, but since they had already done more outrageous things, it didn’t matter much.

So, the deity leaned forward, tucking his silver-white hair behind his ear, and moved closer.

"Peck."

In an instant, the listless light orb’s fur stood on end, and he remained motionless, staring blankly at the deity, completely petrified.