Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1335 Why is he laughing?

When the universe is reborn, the world will be turned upside down.

The bizarre solar eclipse that had covered most of the planet continued, the sky dominated by a massive black disk, with only a faint, intermittent golden halo struggling and pulsating at the edge, like the last gasps of a dying beast. On the ground, the spires of the ancient astrological tower pierced the oppressive shadows, the mad ravings of the sorcerers within turning into desperate wails, the crystal ball cracked, reflecting the shattered and distorted outlines of the dark celestial bodies; in the Royal Observatory, sophisticated instruments recorded unprecedented data, the humming gears and flickering lights weaving a tense low rumble, scholars holding their breath, trying to decipher this colossal object that blotted out the sun.

But this is what was happening just a second ago.

The scene changed in the next second.

Without warning, at the center of that colossal black structure that blotted out the sky, a pure, indescribable holy white light suddenly erupted, piercing straight through half the universe. Starting from the center of the eclipse, it swept across the atmosphere of the Mirror Star Continent, pointing towards every star, whether still shining brightly or already dimmed and extinguished, seven hundred million light-years away. Finally, it stopped outside that ancient and distant sanctuary. The light and heat released in an instant ignited the steel and concrete structure inside, even through the ruins of the desolate city. The towering glass trees were frozen and crystallized by the sweeping hot wind, shining like immortal works of art.

The light and energy released by the eclipse tore a massive, flowing wound of pure white lava across the sky. The intense light, like a tangible tsunami, swept across the shadowed sky at unimaginable speed, instantly engulfing the struggling golden ring that had surrounded the earth. It completely dispelled and purified the darkness that covered the land, becoming a million times more dazzling than the midday sun. All living beings on the ground—mortals hiding indoors, mages and scholars gazing at the heavens, and frightened birds and beasts in the forest—instinctively closed their eyes or shielded them with their arms. But the light still pierced through their tightly closed eyelids, burning their retinas, as if illuminating their very souls. Even through the stinging eyelids, one could feel the awe-inspiring sensation of the entire sky filled with that pure, dazzling white light.

The intense light didn't last long, but to the creatures on earth, it felt like an eternity. When the blinding light finally began to fade, people, filled with fear and bewilderment, trembled and tentatively opened their tear-blurred eyes to look at the sky. The shadow of the eclipse had been cleared, and the world was bright again, but the light was pale and glaring, like the sterilizing lights in a hospital and the sheets on a patient's bed, submerged in a vast ocean of snow.

Unseen by mortals, outside the atmosphere of Mirror Star, the colossal man-made object that had obscured the sun and moon and brought terror had vanished without a trace. No fragments, no debris; where it once stood, only a vast, irregular void remained, its edges still faintly glowing before rapidly dimming, as if a piece of the backdrop had been forcibly removed, leaving behind only scorching heat and lingering embers. Around the void, forcibly dispersed particle clouds churned and roared, rushing towards the center, forming chaotic vortices. Inside the void, the deep cosmic background briefly peeked out, the light of a few surviving stars flickering weakly before being obscured by the thinning clouds that had regrouped.

The area originally covered by the eclipse was now undergoing a rapid transformation from extreme darkness to extreme light, and then to a bizarre twilight. The light, distorted and scattered by residual energy and the chaotic atmosphere, coated the entire visual background with an indescribable, strange filter, somewhere between golden-red and deathly white. For a normal person, it was a dizzying and nauseating sight, like looking through a kaleidoscope with overly strong glasses; even for the knight who had created this scene, it was equally unpleasant.

She slowly shook her head, withdrew her gaze, and gently stroked her beloved horse's neck. Her fingertips felt the strong, slightly tense muscles pulsating beneath Brandy's warm skin. She whispered, "It's over. Let's go back."

Brandy exclaimed in confusion, as if asking: Is it really over?
There's another battle waiting on the ground.

The young female knight smiled slightly, but there was little joy in her smile: "Don't worry, Brandy, this is the end, it's just... I don't know if it's too late."

They don't even know if they've done their best.

……

Many years ago, Carabos had already foreseen his own death.

For her, it wasn't a sudden thought, but a long-planned scheme. She had imagined everything perfectly, from the motives and methods to the outcome, and even simulated it countless times in her mind. All that was left was to carry out the steps herself, but she still couldn't find a suitable opportunity.

Initially, to carry out the practical plan devised by Tentis, she disregarded her position as a young queen, personally stepping into the vast and chaotic battlefield of the mortal world. She fought against evil gods, battled false gods, wielded her blade against heretics and demons, and brought judgment upon the extraordinary and magical. The continuous, intense, and relentless battles were like a long rainy season, leaving her weary and lonely. At that moment, the witch vaguely realized that she would die in some battle, which might be a kind of release for her. But when she looked back and saw Tentis, carrying a heavy mission and walking alone without complaint; saw her sisters still hesitating and unable to make up their minds to fight; and even saw the members of the society who had gathered under her banner for a momentary ideal, she suddenly realized that this body and this life no longer belonged to her. She was not allowed to die, therefore she had to live.

Later, parting ways with her former sisters, the beautiful memories of their past life had perhaps faded like bubbles. They should have become enemies long ago, yet they couldn't let go, leading to repeated entanglements, each ending in a stalemate. Both the victorious and the conflicting powers were unbelievably weak; weapons were held to each other's necks, yet why couldn't they strike? Even Tentis clung to the illusion of persuading the Orderly Kings to join the Witches' Society, but the Dark Witch remained unmoved. Her coldness and cruelty in battle made it seem as if those warm memories had never existed. She used this to tell her enemies and allies alike that since they had decided on their paths, they shouldn't be bound by trivial emotions. If one lacked the resolve to kill the enemy, how could one prove the strength of their beliefs? Perhaps she had already prepared herself to be killed by her former sisters, but weakness is innate, while cruelty is something that is learned through experience. So until the very end, she never died.

In the end, she gradually lost faith in death, no longer meticulously planning, but waiting for it to arrive at a sudden moment, whether it was the tidal force released in the instant of a star's heat death, or the feeding behavior of an extraterrestrial monster that could shake the cosmos; whether it was the most magnificent battle in the world, or a shameful conspiracy unknown to anyone behind the curtain, she even considered the possibility that her mother would suddenly rise from her long slumber, disappointed in her, and personally punish her. And for her, this was probably the best ending, wasn't it? Where one is born, one will die; this is the unchanging law of life.

But the rehearsal of death is always fraught with twists and turns and uncertainties. Even in the most insignificant way he had imagined dying, Caraboss never expected it to come so calmly and...quietly. When the colossal artificial celestial body in the distant sky was completely obliterated by the knight's nonchalant spear, Caraboss felt a tremor in his soul and was momentarily dazed. It was only in that brief moment, barely enough time for a complete breath, that the outcome of this battle, life and death, was decided.

Saint Charlotte seized the opportunity and appeared behind her. The Serpent of Fate, with a precision bordering on pity, extended its fangs and gently bit the witch's second heart.

There was no earth-shattering battle, nor any magnificent spectacle. For the person involved, the long distance between life and death was bridging the gap in just a few dozen words. The imposing and majestic divine body froze in place, and the giant scythe that had been swung into the void abruptly stopped. The dark shadow flames continued to burn, as if using themselves as fuel, burning flesh, bones, and even lungs to ashes, like dark snowflakes falling from the sky, gradually revealing the figure of the Dark Witch in the snow curtain.

Everything that makes up "Carabosse" is being stripped away and dissipated in an irreversible way, eventually returning to the cold and boundless universe.

As she lowered her head, her expression remained somewhat dazed. Countless possibilities of death she had previously envisioned—turning to dust in the magnificent light of collapsing stars; perishing in a predetermined conspiracy; or accepting divine punishment and returning to nothingness under her mother's disappointed gaze—were all irrelevant to the present scene. Cold snowflakes landed on her increasingly unreal hair and shoulders, not melting but passing right through. She suddenly felt a pang of irony. Indeed, death, like fate, wasn't something you could control. They were untamed beasts, most fond of opposing self-righteous mortals.

Carabosse was just that kind of self-righteous mortal. Even though she regained the complete Dark Lordship and thus rose above all life in the universe, as mentioned before, what distinguishes gods from mortals is not power, not birth, and certainly not vision or perspective, but qualification: divinity is the qualification to determine destiny, while humanity can only be determined.

At this moment, Carabosse's fate was sealed; only death awaited him.

But this doesn't seem surprising.

When the witch's first heart was bitten by a snake, and she burned her magic to create a second heart, she swore an oath that the battle would never end until the second heart also turned to ashes. Now is merely the moment to prove that oath. Besides, didn't she cross billions of lands and countless oceans to come precisely to meet this destined end?
In that case, could this be considered... a wish fulfilled?

As Carapos looked up, he saw the sky brightening, a cold, inorganic white, like over-bleached fabric, lifelessly covering the entire horizon. Snow had fallen silently, large flakes, without a sound, yet with an almost cruel purity, covering the desolate, lifeless ruins of the city, covering every bewildered face awakened from the war, and covering the fragments of her fading life. Ashes mingled with dark snowflakes as they fell, like a grand, silent funeral.

Translucent ash particles, like the finest lead ash, entangled and danced in the air with dark, dull snowflakes, finally settling together. They landed on the ruins, on the frozen mud, even on her gently trembling eyelashes. Each snowflake was like a tiny, cold period, softly covering the smoke, obsessions, and clamor of the past. As far as the eye could see, only this monotonous and solemn color remained, spreading and proliferating in the deathly silence. If this were a painting, it would be incredibly beautiful, but as a vision before death, it was too gentle, so gentle that it seemed as if the dying person still clung to the world.

"Ah……"

A very soft, breathy laugh escaped from her lips, a laugh so short it was like a sigh, and was quickly swallowed by the cold air.

The pale light of the sky pierced through the swirling snowflakes, falling on her increasingly translucent face, devoid of warmth. The edges of her vision began to blur and shrink, like ink being soaked. She vaguely saw Saint Charlotte's figure, standing not far away through the swirling snow. The serpent of fate had vanished silently, only the wheels of fate continued to turn, making a spinning sound. On that face, so familiar yet almost strange, was there relief? Pity? Or a calm as serene as the snow itself? Carabosse could no longer discern, nor was she able to.

She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and get a good night's sleep. It sounds ridiculous, but in countless dark nights, the witch known as Darkness had never felt a moment of peace or tranquility. Her sisters said that even in her dreams, she was always frowning, as if she couldn't shake off a heavy burden. Only now, at this moment, could she finally touch that peaceful haven that should have been hers…

Just like that... quietly... fall asleep...

"Why?" A sorrowful voice came through the snowflakes, so heavy it would move even the most hard-hearted: "Why are you laughing, Caraboss?"

Give me some cats