musicians of old

Chapter 893 Night Journey (Part Two): Setting Off Again
"Huff!!—"

Flames suddenly erupted, instantly burning the ordinary letter, along with the swirling symbols, into wisps of smoke.

There shouldn't be night? Climb the tower as soon as possible?
Certain statements triggered an inexplicable sense of anxiety in Fanning.

"Qiong, I'll talk to you later. I'm going out to take a look first."

Almost instantly, the pink light curtain shrank into a sphere.

A somber yet vibrant moonlit night descended in an instant, pollen and spores filled the air, and the twisted riverbank was covered with holes and bulges resembling musical instruments, while the rushing water made a "whooshing" sound.

Everything returned to that nightmarish world. It seems that Koseli did indeed come to "visit" and "deliver a message" during the daytime while Fanning was traveling.

This led to the distorted scenes of the "New Year's Concert" and the "Lecture Hall".

The crisis has indeed been temporarily resolved, and day and night have once again taken turns.

But shouldn't there be no night?

Moreover, the location of that Honkai core is actually very close to where we are now.

Fan Ning frowned deeply and looked up. In the deep space, a greasy vortex was spinning erratically, and clumps of beautiful flesh and blood piled up from top to bottom in an inverted funnel shape, like a heart with a lot of messy blood vessels hanging down.

If we go straight ahead, it will probably be a journey of just one night.

So, go straight there?

It seems there's nothing left to do before this. The regrets and sentiments of the past have been looked back one by one, the "starlight" has been picked up one by one, and the creation of the "Unending Secret" was a little "premature," but it was born without any major incidents. In any case, it has given us an extra layer of support.

The situation was suffocatingly dire, and Fanning certainly knew the importance of thorough preparation and avoiding rash actions. The two factions atop the tower, one wielding an inexplicable tyranny, the other a twisted sincerity, and ironically, both, like himself, were "not entirely satisfied with this world." But what was he now in the plan to reach the "new world"? Had he gone from an important "organizer" to a more crucial piece of the puzzle? With cards like "Grand Historical Projection," "Illyrian," "The Night Watchman's Lamp," and "The Unending Secret," his standing in the dialogue might be rising, but that was all.

Is there anything else we can do, or anything we haven't done yet?
"The 'starlight' you've collected, well, it's not very useful."

"There are too few people. Whether it's the 'pioneers' or the 'directors,' they all feel there are too few people."

Before Koseli was killed, that reminder, a mixture of mockery and "concern," echoed in Fanning's mind once again.

Fanning's gaze returned to the "Night Watchman's Lamp" in his hand.

Inside the lamplight, the starlight—which was almost an "antidote to sin" for him—the faint morning light of the campus, the candlelight of a grand banquet, the shadows of close friends walking together, the laughter and songs of the art theater, the yearning dreams of lovely students, the music and flute of the top ladies—all these things still gently rotated, forming a beautiful star map. But under the boundless, pale green light, they did indeed appear somewhat… faint and insignificant.

To say that these emotions have no value would be a strong argument. Fanning would absolutely disagree.

However, on the scale of confronting the calamities of countless generations, the narratives of individual joys and sorrows, no matter how profound, are ultimately vastly different.

A "Night Pilgrimage" weaves its own requiem, and even if it is almost divine, can this melody soothe a world that is dying?
As he pondered these thoughts repeatedly, the phantom images of his companions had long since vanished. Fan Ning, carrying a lantern and a guitar, stood for a long time under the moonlight, his eyes closed.

The earth stretched ever larger under the moonlight, while he himself grew smaller and smaller, and he felt an endless loneliness.

"Why do I feel like I heard some other kind of sound?"

After an unknown amount of time, Fan Ning suddenly began to mutter to himself.

He tried to distinguish other sounds from the surrounding rushing water.

Was it the kind of whisper caused by "worm activity traces" that had been present from the beginning? "No, no, there was whispering this time too, but there's another kind."

"It sounds like a calling tone, or perhaps not a sound at all, but rather a 'phototropic' gaze? Or a faint aftershock from a spiritual level?"

But it didn't exist before.

Could it be related to the pioneering path of the "Secret of Endless Journey" that he possesses?

Fanning felt that this source did not exist in this crumbling world under the moonlight, nor even in the realm of dreams or migrations.

It comes from the "lower level," yes, the lower level.

Or rather, the lowest point in all conceptual levels.

That place?
A realm that even the vast majority of witnesses keep silent about and refuse to describe—the riverbed beneath the riverbed of history, the graveyard where all "existences" that have been completely forgotten, erased, and lost all meaning and connection have settled; the downstream of the river of time, the final place of silence from which even light and sound cannot escape; the outermost edge of the "wasteland" that all knowledgeable explorers of migration would absolutely dare not venture into, that absolutely forbidden and meaningless void!

There shouldn't be any sound there, not even language.

But at this moment, Fan Ning clearly felt it.
In that theoretically empty "non-existent region," some things... have awakened.

No, it's not that I'm awake.

They shouldn't have the concept of being asleep, because they've even lost the right to "sleep." It's only because their "status" has reached a certain level that they won't mix, split, or confuse their uniqueness, which is why they are eternally suspended in a meaningless vacuum.

Now, the birth of "The Secret of the Endless" is like a beam of light that is absolutely pure and unlike any previous concept, piercing through all layers of barriers and shining into that absolute darkness.

Fanning himself should not have been able to "see" or "hear" them, but the situation is the opposite. Countless lost and broken fragments, stripped of all names and existence, are casting their "attention" on Fanning from that unimaginable void.

That's why Fanning felt something.

Yes, "facing" is a feeling after being "facing"!
It was as if Fanning and the "Unending Secret" he created had become the only meaningful coordinates in the meaningless void below.

Like a lighthouse that suddenly lights up with a faint glow.

Originally, they could only silently recount their forgotten sorrows forever, but Fanning's appearance gave them, for the first time, a faint hope that their sorrows might be heard.
So what does this actually mean?
Do we really need to go there?
That place was unparalleled in its danger. Compared to it, things like the "Unknown Area of ​​the Radiant Tower," the "Abnormal Area," or the "River of History" were child's play. Even beings of the Witness level, Fanning had never read in any documents that their footprints had been there.

Can one gain any "meaning" by going to a place of absolute "nothingness"?

Just comparing these two words is enough.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have kept the faith.”

Even in terms of the composition of the Symphony No. 7 in E minor, the "Night Walk" movement was already completed.

"Orchestra at Night," "Night Walk," "Ghostly Scherzo"—there's only one other final chapter to write about afterward.

But these "starlight" are about to ascend the tower.
Not enough, far from enough.

Fan Ning took a deep breath, glanced at the "Night Watchman's Lamp" again, and a clarity that mixed with determination and enlightenment resonated in his chest.

Having already mastered the "secret of endless rest"
If "Night Wanderings" is finished and "Night Pilgrimage" is over, why not write another "Night Wanderings" and launch another spiritual pilgrimage?

If an individual's "starlight" is not enough to illuminate the way forward, then go and ignite those stars that have been extinguished in the long river of history, but which once illuminated one era of human civilization!