Extraordinary Pedigree.

Chapter 1060: The [Crisis Sequence] of Pairing Up.

In this small town sustained by a faint light and built on the edge of reality and illusion, Xia Xiu still stands quietly on the edge of the halo cast by the street lamp. His figure seems to be cut between light and darkness. Behind him are layers of darkness that seem to collapse at any moment, while in front of him is the lighthouse of light hanging high in the sky, which is also the street lamp, the instrument of God's torture.

The deity imprisoned within the light source—Saint Cuthbert.

He remained silent, his figure sitting upright like cast iron between pain and holiness, his limbs tightly bound, his white hair burning, divine light flowing from the depths of his chest, flowing along the chains around him to all directions, supporting this slice of reality that should not exist.

Until Xia Xiu's gaze fell on him, his eyes opened without warning.

Like a burning, blazing golden star, he shone with an unbearable divine light. In that instant, it wasn't the town that illuminated him, but he who illuminated the entire town once again.

Xia Xiu sensed it almost instantly: the concealment bubble created by [Presence Weakening Element] shattered like glass, and the rules that should have rendered him unrecognizable under all divine senses were now exposed to him.

He was seen completely by those blazing golden eyes, nakedly exposed to divine scrutiny.

To his surprise, those eyes did not hold the fury of an enemy, nor the judgmental light of justice.

Rather, it is... a more ancient tranquility that transcends the binary opposition of good and evil.

This change was not merely perceived by Xia Xiu. Under the lamplight, on this only survivable island of reality, all the believers, clad in robes and holy symbols, who were chanting softly, paled the moment the deity opened his eyes. Fear spread rapidly like a cold current, interrupting the dirge they were singing.

Their voices stopped abruptly, like a tightly wound string suddenly snapping.

Then, almost instinctively, several knights drew their swords, the blades gleaming coldly in the holy light. They all turned their gazes toward the dark area outside the town, the direction where the long night should have been lurking.

For a moment, the atmosphere was tense.

Then, Saint Cuthbert's voice rang out, not as spoken words, but as a higher form of will, simultaneously entering everyone's minds.

"The long night has not yet come, and fear has no basis. Visitors from beyond the gate, from the heavens above, from the Old Testament, from fellow travelers on the side of truth, have arrived here. You, step back."

The priests were ashen-faced, but none dared to disobey; the sound of armor scraping against each other filled the air as the knights sheathed their swords, slowly lowered their heads, and knelt in retreat.

They retreated into the sunlit streets and alleys, into the shadows of churches and stone houses, surrendering the entire space for dialogue between God and man to the deity high above the lamp, and to the foreign guest from beyond the world, holding a scepter.

Under the streetlights, the world was utterly silent.

Xia Xiu tilted his head slightly, his eyes seeming to scrutinize or confirm as he gazed at Saint Cuthbert, who was bound to the streetlight.

You look like you're not feeling well.

Saint Cuthbert lowered his head. The old man's face was rugged, his hair and beard frosty, and his brows still exuded an undying, solemn divinity. Yet, his tone was unexpectedly light, and he answered in an almost darkly humorous way:

"It's really not very comfortable... After hanging on the lamp for a long time, I feel like I'm shining like the street lamp."

Xia Xiu was taken aback at first, then chuckled softly, lightly tapping the light and shadow at his feet with his silver staff, seemingly trying to conceal the subtle emotions in his heart.

He stared at the other person for a long time before saying:
“You are different from the deities I’ve encountered before.”

His tone lacked the natural disdain for deities. Unlike the ancient beings in the Golden Court who wore a divine veneer but had long since become mere machines for power and prolongation, this suspended Saint Cuthbert still possessed an indescribable air of integrity.

It is a kind of true holiness rarely seen in religious texts, not divine might or indifferent fate, but the warmth that people imagine when they expect divine intervention.

"You know about Abelio's situation, right?" Xia Xiu asked slowly. "And you know me, right?"

He didn't beat around the bush and went straight to the point.

Beneath the tranquil streetlights, Saint Cuthbert hung high in the sky. Though his figure was withered, his divinity remained undiminished. His eyes were still like blazing golden wheels, reflecting the human heart on the edge of darkness.

His bound hands twitched slightly, as if sensing his already sluggish body, but he did not struggle. He calmly gazed into Xia Xiu's eyes, which seemed to pierce through the mist, and his voice followed, like a church bell, deep yet undeniable.

“Of course I know,” Saint Cuthbert said slowly. “My believers are still alive, and their thoughts, dreams, prayers and anxieties will flow back from that broken crystal wall.”

He looked down at the spot where his hands were bound, a situation that was both extremely cruel and extremely real, much like a god of sacrifice suspended above the sacred fire by a priest. Yet, a detached serenity appeared on his face.

“You killed my Patriarch.” His tone still carried no reproach, “but his soul had long been corrupted by those unnameable monsters in the universe. If you hadn’t acted, I would have eventually cleansed the house. You just got there a little earlier than me.”

“I also know,” he said, “that dimensional sword, [the Sword of Abelio]… its edge can even cleave the embers of divinity, and I know you killed four Storm Kings. You conquered more than half of Abelio’s territory, from south to east, from east to center, and now you have your eyes on me… You came here not to talk, but to erase me from this world, is that it?”

After he finished speaking, the world fell into a moment of deathly silence, except for the light source overhead, the huge bioluminescent body that continued to rotate slowly, maintaining eternity on the brink of death.

Xia Xiu simply nodded slightly, without denying it.

He added slowly:
"Klangerdin Silverbeard has died in battle."

A hint of sadness finally appeared in Saint Cuthbert's eyes, and even though that sadness, like a sharp edge hidden behind an iron will, was still so clear.

“...Is that so?” he said softly, his tone carrying a heavy sense of loss that seemed to bend the light. “That guy, give me half of his last divine power.”

He closed his eyes, and the divine flame that had sustained so many believers seemed to droop slightly as if blown by the wind.

"He is my true friend."

Saint Cuthbert spoke slowly, his voice devoid of shouting, only filled with a quiet remembrance and respect.

"He was a remarkable warrior, a dwarf who still believed in honor and the light of the forge."

He opened his eyes, and the blazing golden light was like the last rays of the setting sun amidst raging flames.

“If this world had not undergone such a great upheaval, if the crystal wall had not collapsed, when the dead light swept across the world, I should have fought alongside him, and at the foot of Mount Krangtin, I should have slain you heretics from the other side of the starry sea.”

Xia Xiu gazed at the deity suspended above the light source, his eyes filled with no contempt or hatred, but only a long-lost solemnity and reverence.

He looked up at Saint Cuthbert's figure, pinned in mid-air, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy:
"It seems you are different from those cruel puppets sitting high in the Golden Court. You are not a power aggregate driven by desire... If we hadn't been on different sides, if fate hadn't placed us in this irreconcilable game, perhaps we could have sat down, drunk and laughed, like friends."

Upon hearing this, Saint Cuthbert's divine fire flickered for a moment, like a gentle heartbeat.

He gazed at this intruder from beyond the world, yet in this soul-stirring gaze he felt a serene acceptance that transcended hostility.

He smiled slightly, his eyes no longer burning with intensity, but instead displaying a gentle calmness honed by the trials of life.

“…What a pity,” he said, his tone devoid of resentment, but rather carrying a profound sense of destiny.

"Our positions are destined to be forever different."

He sighed softly:
"But fate—it is indeed very ingenious."

He tilted his head slightly, looking at Xia Xiu, and for the first time, a look of familiarity appeared in his eyes: "Because now, I can no longer be your enemy, nor can I fight you anymore."

His tone was neither sad nor happy; he simply stated the absurd yet real situation he was in: "On the contrary... I have to rely on your strength to fight against this boundless darkness."

"How ironic this is."

Xia Xiu stood in the long shadow cast by the pale light, gazing at Saint Cuthbert, who remained divine and suspended high in the air, and asked the question that had been lingering in his mind:
"Tell me... why did you become like this? And what kind of place is this world?"

Saint Cuthbert bowed his head quietly; instead of playing the role of a riddle teller, he began to recount his experiences directly:

"That most indescribable, mysterious being, the sacred starfish, the complete pentagram, the fifth-dimensional traveler, the dream above the stars and the firmament..." "It is a superdimensional cosmic complex, essentially an aggressive idea from a higher conceptual level. It exists at the intersection of the local ideological circle and the higher spiritual world. Once it completely penetrates the boundary and enters the realm of reality... it will devour the foundations of all ideas and abstractions, and dismantle the logical pillars of all existence in the physical universe."

At this point, Saint Cuthbert's expression turned solemn for the first time; it was not out of fear, but rather a deep sense of oppression as he gazed upon his archenemy.

“I sensed His intrusion very early on…” he said softly, “and took all possible measures to deal with it.”

“I created three sacred artifacts to prepare for the impending catastrophe of Memnu.”

He paused, then spoke in a low voice, recounting the events one by one:

"First, the mirror of truth."

It reflects the truest self deep within the soul. Even deliberately forgotten sins and desires cannot escape its reflection, and it can detect those corrupted by the Fifth Church.

"Secondly, the scales of justice."

Based on the laws of all realms, whenever a soul deviates from order, with each major transgression, the scales tip a little, ultimately plunging into the abyss of injustice. It is used to cleanse the souls of those who have been corrupted.

"Thirdly, the hammer of punishment. I use it to make the sinners feel the weight of their sins and to give them the opportunity to repent and be reformed. It is used against those who believe in the Fifth Church but have not been completely corrupted."

His eyes were slightly closed, as if he were recalling an era filled with laws and beliefs.

"In order to resist His Mother's corruption, I have constructed the three sacred artifacts into a process of judgment, specifically designed to discern, judge, and purify any infiltration of the fifth-dimensional ideas."

“I have also planted the [seed of law] in the depths of this world.”

"If anyone in the world has any words, thoughts, symbols, or dreams related to the Fifth Church, that seed will automatically awaken and grow into the [Vine of Law], binding its existence without any interference from reality."

"To prevent a recurrence of this tragedy, I established the Knights of the Eye of Law. They will never engage in human politics, serving only my will, with the mission of examining the sanctity of thought."

“I also invented the Holy Symbol Burning Test. If the Knights suspect that someone has been corrupted by Him, they only need to stick my Holy Symbol on that person. If black smoke comes out, it means that the area has been corrupted by evil energy.”

Xia Xiu listened attentively as Saint Cuthbert slowly recounted the layers of defenses, trial procedures, and self-discipline mechanisms he had set up to deal with the invasion of the fifth dimension.

As the ruler of the plane, Saint Cuthbert's response can be described as perfect.

For more than one day, he shared the same thoughts. In a world unseen by others, a shadowy figure visible only to him materialized behind him like an electronic projection—it was the Demon King Amond.

"This guy is something else."

"...No wonder he was Abelio's former ruler of the plane." Amund remarked.

"His defense process is clear in its approach and decisive in its methods. It is progressive from identification to handling to prevention, with almost no omissions. It even takes into account the possibility of ideological infection... This awareness of the need to control conceptual disaster is the same as how the Kingdom of Heaven handles crisis sequences."

Xia Xiu didn't turn around; his gaze remained fixed on the deity bound by the streetlamp. He spoke:

"As expected, something unexpected happened afterward, right?"

Saint Cuthbert nodded slightly, his tone more like a powerless acknowledgment of fate:
"Indeed."

"Just when I thought I had completed the purification of the Fifth Church and successfully prevented that terrifying ideology from completely infiltrating the world, I was careless."

He slowly lowered his eyes, as if the regret of that moment had faded slightly from his fiery golden pupils.

"Just as I lowered my guard and prepared to repair this world... His tentacles brought in the projection of another being."

When he said this, his tone was more solemn than ever before. It wasn't anger, nor fear, but a whisper like someone gazing into an abyss and knowing their own insignificance.

“That is not the Fifth Church, nor are those corruptors I once resisted.”

"That is another supreme being."

Saint Cuthbert's voice echoed from the light source, seemingly stretched out in the empty and heavy air. At that moment, the once majestic and unquestionable Lord of Law surprisingly carried a hint of... almost desperate melancholy in his tone.

"...Two such beings actually...descended upon us."

He closed his eyes, as if trying his best to exclude those memories that he shouldn't remember from his consciousness.

"Moreover...their authority overlaps..."

This short sentence was like a thunderclap that suddenly shattered the silence, causing an invisible shockwave to ripple through the air.

In Xia Xiu's perception, the shadowy figure behind him chuckled softly.

"...This guy is incredibly unlucky."

Armand's voice sounded like a wry, reminiscent sigh.

"He ran into the most classic apocalyptic combination pattern, namely the crisis sequence pairing phenomenon."

"You know what I'm talking about, right?"

Xia Xiu raised an eyebrow and calmly responded in his mind: "MK-level crisis sequence apocalyptic scenario—human consciousness is infected and erased, the body survives but the mind perishes."

“Yes.” Armand’s tone grew even lower.

"The terrifying aspect of these patterns is not their speed of destruction, but their coupled structure on the ideological dimension. Just as the oldest Tarot card rulers attract each other, crisis sequences with the same authority also attract each other. Examples are the four troublemakers in chaos; they are composite pairing patterns."

Xia Xiu was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly spoke, his tone calm, yet carrying a sharp edge that pierced to the core:
"Who is the other supreme being you encountered?"

Saint Cuthbert slowly opened his eyes, the blazing golden light in them diluted by endless exhaustion, and answered in a low voice.

The sound was as soft as a sigh, carrying a dreamlike echo:
"At the end of the Sea of ​​Dreams, where the aurora is frozen,"
The forgotten palace of Qadas stands tall.

The walls there are built from pure dreams.
It is engraved with symbols that even the gods dare not remember.

If a mortal dares to climb those steps...

You will see the nameless black pharaoh smile—

Because He has waited for a thousand years,
Waiting for the dreamer to personally uncover the end of the dream...

It's just one's own heart.

As the last word fell, a sudden silence seemed to surge forth, and Xia Xiu's eyes finally became deep and dark at that moment.

He slowly and softly uttered those words.

"One of the stars, the true ruler of the dream kingdom of Kadath... the Black Pharaoh, the lurking chaos, the god of a thousand faces."

Damn, that Saint Cuthbert is really unlucky.

The three forces associated with dreams all regard Abelio as their battlefield—the Cosmic Starfish, the Dream God Group, and the God of a Thousand Faces.

No one could withstand this, damn it!