Tonight, Alice joins the hunt.

A bad feeling welled up in Zheng Zha's heart.

He desperately tried to channel the true energy and blood power within his body, which were bound by the curse and were like a stagnant pool. But his power rejected him at this moment, responding like a stiff piece of wood—he couldn't help but shout loudly.

"Hey! What are you guys planning to do?! We're at war! We were so close to victory! Were the angels wiped out? Or does Norrell have some new plan? Damn it, just tell me! If you still consider me your captain, explain yourself!"

"Xiao Honglu! Zhan Lan!"

“I’m sorry, but this time, I can’t listen to you.” Zhan Lan’s voice contained a chill she had never shown before, and beneath that chill floated… hatred. “This is our unanimous decision. You must live, live to the end. So… you can’t turn back.”

Zheng Zha was so anxious he was about to cry. He almost burst into a tirade, but he managed to hold back and tried to persuade his companions in a low voice.

"Hey, listen up. We're comrades, we promised to go back together, so... whatever happens, let's first break free from this bond and face it together, okay? I rarely let you down, and this time... won't be an exception!"

“That’s precisely why I can’t let you… join us.” Xiao Honglu answered calmly, his second curse sealing Zheng Zha’s throat. Then, he slowly said, “My performance in this cycle of reincarnation has been terrible. I’ve seen through almost nothing, and all the schemes I set up have been useless. I originally thought this was due to my own immaturity, so I planned to remain silent until I returned to further my studies. But now… I simply can’t just stand by and watch…”

“I can’t either,” Zhan Lan’s voice rang out. “If I want to continue being a mentally sound person in the future, instead of some antisocial…mutant creature, I can stand by and do nothing. Now that I’ve seen it all, if I choose to do nothing and just go back, then it’s no different from being dead. So…please forgive my willfulness, Brother Zheng. I’m sorry to burden you with more…even if it’s for our sake…don’t look back, take that Golden Book of the Sun, no matter what you hear, no matter what you feel…don’t look back.”

"You've all said all the nice things, I have nothing left to say." Zhang Heng's voice seemed to carry a hint of helplessness, yet also a sense of relief. "I think today is a good day to go see Wei, at least for this moment... I think even if she sees me, she'll be willing to listen to me a few more words before killing me again. Captain Zheng Zha, it was a pleasure fighting alongside you... See you next time."

After he finished speaking, there was a long silence, as if it had spanned thousands of years. Finally, Zero's voice reached Zheng Zha's ears: "Next time, let's stand side by side... I'm sorry."

Communication was immediately cut off, and only static remained in the walkie-talkie.

Minutes later, the sounds of explosions and roars rang out again. Zheng Zha, however, remained frozen in mid-air, motionless and silent…

...Tears were already streaming down her face!

Section 41: A Mountain Nine Ren High

Patchouli's spirit sank into the earth's veins, her will gently tapping the mantle, conveying the special communication code that Alice had told her.

She received a response almost instantly.

'Your aura is different from that person's... Are you... fulfilling the promise on her behalf?'—This was the message conveyed from the underground. It was like a newborn child, unaware of good or evil, right or wrong, simply and innocently reciprocating everything given to her by others.

“That’s right, I’m here to fulfill the contract on her behalf.” Patchouli replied calmly, “Everything on the ground is ready, the plan has reached its final stage, and now, the only thing missing is your part.”

'The underground energy network is ready. I've constructed an energy channel connecting to the Earth's core, which can be readily integrated into your ritual magic... Is that alright? If it fails, we will all...'

“No problem,” Patchouli said without hesitation. “Give me the access to the energy channel. As long as your work is error-free, my side will also be smooth and efficient.”

'Okay, then I'll leave everything to you. I'm a little tired, sorry, I can't help you anymore...'

The underground communications were immediately cut off, but before that, an energy network, emerging from the mantle and intertwined with the Earth's core like the roots of an old tree, appeared in Patchouli's mind. This was the planet's lifeblood, a power that only the true god, as the planet's will, could wield. To control it was to control the planet itself, and even the nascent deity was included within it; He and everything He possessed became Patchouli's treasure at this moment.

The network's structure projected a large, all-encompassing projection before her. She gazed at this network projection, which stretched across the earth, for a long time.

From top to bottom, from inside to outside.

“No problem, absolutely no problem. This is a very pure energy network, it hasn’t been contaminated.” Patchouli wondered, softly asking herself, “The arrangements made by the Heavenly Emperor Bina are not here, she hasn’t interfered with this nascent Gaia. So… what could it be?”

She didn't believe that the Emperor's appearance before her in the final minutes before the decisive battle was unfounded. She didn't believe, nor dared to believe, that the Emperor would act like a third-rate villain in a comic book, deliberately revealing his intelligence to the protagonist so that the protagonists could have the chance to play the villain.

The emperor is no fool, and I am no naive protagonist from a comic book. Verbal sparring will never be effective; the real battle will have to be won through a formal clash of forces.

She must have done something, arranged something. Or rather... her deliberately revealing her form and the words she spoke were herself part of her arrangement.

"What exactly is her purpose? Is it a bluff? A deliberate attempt to mislead? Or... to lure me into doing something she desires?" The girl's fingers unconsciously rubbed against the wide sleeves of her robe, and inadvertently, the peach... or rather, the fruit of wisdom, which was handed over by the newlyweds, was touched by her fingers. She subconsciously picked it up and examined it carefully in her hand.

This peach was a gift from the Emperor. It was her interference, stemming from her karmic ties with the two witches. It was the only time she interfered with the real world before her true form arrived in the solar system. So… she specifically mentioned Alice in the conversation, Lilith who failed to become Eve. Was it to hint that she should eat this peach?

“Difficult to understand.” Patchouli shook her head. “The thoughts of extraordinary beings…are indeed difficult to fathom.”

She ultimately decided not to interfere or take any further action regarding the emperor's appearance. Because... she herself didn't know what to do.

The plan has reached its final stage, and there's no time to spare. Adding any further changes would be a pipe dream. And if we hesitate because of the Emperor's words… it might actually lead to an even worse outcome.

She couldn't help but let out a long sigh.

"The only option left is to remain unchanged in the face of all changes."

The next moment, her consciousness descended, not into the earth, but into the ocean of consciousness among the countless mortals in the base. She was to complete the final step of the ritual; she was to become… Nuwa!

Power originating from the earth's veins surrounded her, and the vast energy conduit system connected to the Earth's core began to operate, with energy and heat from the deepest part of the planet surging out and rapidly converging towards her location.

"Now, I have complete control over the earth, and I am the only remaining earth goddess on this land."

Energy gathered and surged into her body. Under her will, the earth was reshaped, and earthquakes began to occur throughout the planet. The boiling magma that had risen from the earth to the surface was drawn back into the asthenosphere by gravity. The temperature difference between the surface and the sky rapidly increased, and the thick rain clouds in the sky instantly transformed into a massive downpour!

Rain that restarts, rain that revives.

The dried-up trenches were filled in, and water once again piled up on the empty seabed. As the primordial thunderstorms that covered the sky and spread to all four corners of the earth bombarded the sea surface, the seawater began to combine with methane and ammonia in the sky, and the origin of life, those organic macromolecules, were thus formed.

The ocean became the primordial broth of life. The pure water became impure, replicators began to form, then amino acids, proteins, polypeptides... and at this moment, the seeds of life began to sprout anew.

God created the world in seven days.

It took nature 700 million years to evolve the rudimentary world.

But Patchouli has now become Gaia, so... it took her less than seven minutes.

"After the destruction of the world, I am the one who preserves its last remaining fruits. My actions are for the reshaping of civilization, and I give the world a chance to be reborn."

"Then... I am Nuwa."

She abruptly opened her eyes, and the concept of 'Nuwa' rapidly took shape within her. For the old world was continued through her hands, and the new world was created through her. She was both inheritor and pioneer, redeemer and preacher. Therefore… she was entitled to this position!

The next moment, her vision suddenly shifted, and everything was plunged into darkness in an instant. In a daze, she seemed to hear a voice, a muffled voice, indistinct in gender and age, whispering a question to her:

—Do you love us?

"Compared to that hidden hand of the emperor?" She subconsciously raised her hand. Just as she was about to assume a defensive stance and activate some of her prepared backup plans, everything before her eyes returned to light once again.

She found herself in the base, but not at its core, the place where the rituals were performed. Instead, she was on the outer edge of the base, in the cabins inhabited by mortals.

"This isn't a base in the real world; it's a dream, a dream of mortals. But why am I here?" Patchouli easily discerned the nature of the space she was in. She tried to leave, but something... seemingly a force within herself, was hindering her, preventing her from easily escaping.

If we can't leave, then we can only move forward.

She took a step forward, and the next moment blood flooded her ankles. She saw hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of faceless corpses flowing down the blood river that had formed the base's passageways. The remains touched her ankles, and vaguely, she seemed to hear countless mingled songs.

Countless songs, a jumble of songs.

'Oh, say can you see? by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?'

"Arise! Ye who refuse to be slaves! Let our flesh and blood forge our new Great Wall!"

'Страны небывалой свободные дети, Сегодня мы гордую песню поём. О партии самой могучей на свете, О самом большом человеке своём. '

'??? ??? ? ?? ，??? ??? ???。 ??? ???? ? ??，??? ?? ???。 '

'Fratelli d'Italia,l'Italia s'e' desta,dell'elmo di Scipio, s'e cinta la testa.Dov'e la vittoria?Le porga la chioma,che schia-va di Roma,Iddio la creo'.'

'………………………………'

The song filled her mind, making her dizzy. She knew what it was, what song it was, and what it meant, but she didn't know why these sounds were here.

No, she knew. Because without her tacit approval, how could mortals possibly control the switch that allowed the base lord to speak? How could they possibly obtain such immense power and order in just a few minutes, thus offering the sacrifices to the ancient angels' spears of light?

She knows, even though she devotes the vast majority of her mental energy to controlling the pulse of the earth and the ritual of mending the heavens. She still knows much about what is happening in the base. Because the core and center of this sanctuary base is the Great Library, and the Great Library is a part of her, her mage tower and her divine kingdom.

"Stop right there," she commanded.

Then the sounds abruptly ceased. Only a sorrowful question remained, echoing in her ears.

—Do you love us?

“…Alaya.” Patchouli rubbed her temples hard, guessing who the voice belonged to. The only voice that could ask her such a question at this time, in this place, during this ritual, besides the impossible existence of the Heavenly Emperor Hinana… was this collective will of mortals.

“This is a necessary sacrifice.” She changed from rubbing to tapping, the excruciating pain in her head making her increasingly agitated. “Without sacrifice, there is no victory. This is the last chance; there can be no… the slightest hesitation.”

Everything before her eyes instantly changed. This time, she was in a different time and place, several days earlier, when the second horn had just ended, the 'Fungal Essence' had not yet subsided, and the veterans had not yet fully awakened. She was standing above what was then just a nascent shelter base, with large, bustling open-air factories below her.

She saw many faceless workers toiling on the production line, with no chance to rest, no possibility of stopping. Everyone was repeatedly performing the tasks she assigned under the machine's surveillance. If someone was exhausted, they were injected with stimulants; if the injections were ineffective, magic was used to invigorate their spirit. And if even that failed, the worker would be transported out of the factory by the machine, and then die before being taken to the morgue.

When one person falls, their work isn't replaced but is directly distributed to the remaining people. When a group falls, their work is handled in the same way. Leave is out of the question, and wages and compensation are out of the question. Even the cruelest slave owners and the most brutal sweatshops couldn't compare to the harsh treatment inflicted upon them by the witches. And as the corpses piled up, the construction progress of the base accelerated.

“It is necessary,” Patchouli replied. “Without fully utilizing all manpower, it would be impossible to complete the base before the arrival of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I have done my best to achieve this level of capability due to the limitations of productivity. If we had yielded even a single step, we… you simply would not have been able to hold out until now.”

She argued in this way, but the voice responded with the same words as always.

—Do you love us?

Patchouli shut her mouth.

Love.

She didn't have that much love to give to anyone else; her heart, her longing, her emotions had long been completely devoted to Alice Margotrovid as an individual. She wouldn't love or care about anyone else but her. And she would never regret it.

She is Alice's inner demon, and Alice is also her inner demon. Their entanglement is already irreconcilable, and they are also the only obstacle for each other to reach a higher level—they are both well aware of this, and they know that there is no room for change.

And so, the scene before her eyes shifted for the third time. This shift occurred before the solar winds descended, as the witches swept through North America and conquered Western Europe. She saw only the overwhelming army of robots attacking and killing all who resisted, suppressing all who were dissatisfied, but their so-called goal—in reality—was of little significance.

The voice rang out again.

"—Did you love us? Even just once, even a little bit, did you ever love us, ever have pity on us, ever care about even one of us?"

Patchouli closed her eyes.

She could not give an answer because she knew she could not provide one that would satisfy the infant Alaya.

She could only say in a deep voice, "If the ritual fails, humanity will be completely wiped out. You will all die, utterly die, forever die... Is it so hard to admit that I am Nuwa?"

'It's not that we don't want to, but that we can't,' the voice replied. 'You are a loveless outcast; everything you give us is a transaction, not love, in your eyes. You have redeemed everything and are qualified to be our ruler, but there is no mother in this world who doesn't love her child.'

'You initiated creation and saved the old world. You may take this authority that governs all living things on earth. But…'

'You are not worthy to be Nuwa.'

Everything before her shattered, and the next moment, Patchouli returned once more to the ritual center of the base's core area. She could clearly feel that she had acquired the authority of the Mother Goddess, which existed within the will of all living beings and governed all sentient beings. But she could also clearly feel that the concept of 'Nuwa' within her had been completely shattered, with no possibility of ever coalescing again.

The potion that suppressed her emotions lost its effect at this moment. She coughed up a mouthful of blood, fine streaks of reddish-black blood trickling from her seven orifices. She collapsed onto her throne, the blood seeping from her body, severely injured by the failed ritual, spreading along the seat and covering an area several meters in radius.

"Building a mountain nine ren high... all efforts are in vain at the last basket of earth."

“I am now both Gaia and Alaya. I control all the power on this planet… but I am not Nuwa!” Her head slammed heavily against the back of the chair, and a wild, hysterical smile crept across her lips. “Not Nuwa!”

"What's the use of this! What's the use of this! What's the use of this!"

"Is this what you prepared for me? More so than that emperor… is this the ending you prepared for me!? Ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha—"

"Well done, well done, well done! No wonder you don't care at all. Because I... was destined to fail from the very beginning!"

She heard the sound of metal tearing, and with a burst of light, a figure appeared to the side of her field of vision.

Have the angels broken in? Ha, whatever, it's all the same anyway...