Chapter 87: The Hanged Man: Are You Polite?

"So, that's how it is."

As Ashes made his way up the mountain, he looked up toward the peak and murmured to himself. Finally, he could see the outline of the building at the top of the mountain.

It was a temple.

The red membrane didn't cover the entire mountain; it stopped abruptly halfway up. At the base of the mountain lay an endless, sticky, blood-red hell, continuously creeping toward the summit. However, at the halfway point, the fungal mats were no longer sticky. Instead, countless small black and red blood vessels emerged from the fungus, climbing up toward the peak like creeping vines.

At first, the blood vessels were layered upon each other, more intricate than a spider's web. Walking on them and feeling them snap underfoot made one nauseous. But the higher Ashes climbed, the thinner the layers of blood vessels became. The black and red vessels stretched out from several large, pulsing veins, like withered poplars with gnarled branches. But these "poplars" were made of blood vessels.

When Ashes reached the point where the mountain was about two-thirds of its full height, the layers of blood vessels finally disappeared, leaving a lush green landscape. In a clearing on the mountainside, there was even a village. From a distance, one could see faint smoke rising from within. However, upon closer inspection, there were only a large number of vacant houses, devoid of any human presence.

Ashes entered one of the empty houses and found a dining table with some black bread and a thin soup—so thin it had no meat, only a few streaks of oil barely covering the surface. He touched the bowl that held the soup; it still retained some warmth, as if someone had been there not too long ago.

"So, where did they go?" Ashes looked toward the base of the mountain and then shook his head slightly. The entire painted world had already been overrun by corruption. At this point, the only place suitable for survival was this mountain. Below it, nothing but the sprawling fungal mats and countless bloodthirsty flies remained. Ashes didn't think anyone could survive leaving the mountain. Even if they did, they had nowhere to go.

If they hadn't descended the mountain, then they could only be at the summit.

Continuing his ascent, Ashes encountered more and more houses. Just the number of buildings alone suggested that they could accommodate at least several thousand people. But no matter which building he entered, not a single living soul was to be found.

Eventually, only the grand and majestic temple at the summit remained.

Standing at the peak and looking out at the distance, Ashes could see that everything in this world had been covered by the fungal mats, turning the landscape into a vast crimson field. This sight made Ashes furrow his brow.

This painted world was the worst experience he had ever had.

It was far too hollow and monotonous.

The world was so empty that, aside from this mountain, it was nothing but an endless plain! The monotony was such that Ashes didn't even have to take any detours to reach the summit directly! The painted worlds he had entered before, though different in their own ways, were all intricate and rich in detail. The design of traps and shortcuts was just right—though sometimes disgustingly so.

But the feeling this world gave Ashes was nothing but emptiness and monotony. Apart from the endless plain and the mountain, there was nothing else. Even if this world wasn't corrupted, it would still be terribly dull for a painted world. This kind of simplicity was an inexcusable blunder for a "world painter." The simpler a painted world, the faster it would decay. Conversely, the more complex and detailed a world was, the slower it would deteriorate.

And the paint used to create painted worlds was incredibly rare and precious. To use such valuable materials to create a dull and lifeless painted world was a despicable waste! At least in Ashes' memory, any world painter would go to great lengths to make the world they painted as realistic as possible.

The monotony of this world suggested two possibilities: either its original complexity had been entirely destroyed, leaving only the emptiness, or the world painter had created it as a half-hearted, perfunctory job. If it were the former, then the clues in this world would have already been destroyed. If it were the latter, then it was even worse because the world painter might not have intended to leave any clues in this world at all, having created it merely to fulfill some obligation.

In either case, it indicated one thing—Ashes had come here for nothing.

"Clang!"

As Ashes moved, the gaps in the black knight's armor collided with each other, producing a crisp metallic sound.

He turned around and focused his gaze on the temple ahead. Setting aside the endless, corrupted plain, the only place in this world that hadn't been explored was this temple.

"Clang!"

The heavy footsteps of the fully armored knight echoed through the vast temple hall.

The temple's scale was immense, clearly designed for creatures of gigantic proportions. It was akin to the ancient Anor Londo, the divine city built for gods far larger than humans. For ordinary people, being in such a place would only make them feel small.

The temple before Ashes was no different. There were numerous statues lining the sides, all of them massive, enlarged representations of humans, at least ten meters tall. However, these "humans" had gray-blue skin and only a single vertical eye in the center of their foreheads.

"Giants?"

Ashes examined the statues, and a word formed in his mind.

There was no doubt—this was a temple dedicated to giants.

If he had to compare it to something from his past knowledge, it was more akin to Valhalla, the hall of the slain. The dead giants would return to Valhalla and find eternal rest there.

The farther Ashes walked into the temple, the larger the giant statues became. The giants at the outermost part were only a dozen meters tall, but as he ventured deeper, the statues grew increasingly massive, reaching heights of dozens of meters. It seemed that these statues were life-sized replicas of the original giants.

"Clang!"

When Ashes finally reached the end of the temple, he stopped.

Before him stood a colossal statue, completely different from the giant statues lining the sides.

This enormous statue was positioned directly in front of him.

It was clear that this figure was the true master of this "Valhalla," the god worshipped by the giants.

Ashes slowly lifted his head.

What came into view was a gigantic inverted cross, filling the entire space of the hundreds-of-meters-tall temple!

And on the cross, with countless huge black nails and chains, a naked man covered in blood was bound tightly, hanging upside down.

"The Hanged Man, the True Creator!"

Two phrases instantly flashed in Ashes' mind.

The first was his initial impression, and the second was an interpretation of this image— it referred to the god worshipped by the Aurora Order, the "True Creator"!

Suddenly, the hanged giant opened his eyes, hidden behind a veil of shadow, and stared directly at Ashes with an upside-down gaze.

"It's time to fight the boss!"

Ashes stared back at the enormous hanged giant, gripping the black knight's greatsword in his hands, feeling a strange sense of exhilaration. Even though the first Lord of Cinder he faced wasn't the Black Emperor, who cared? It was just like when he rekindled the flame; he didn't care whether the first Lord of Cinder was the Abyss Watchers or the Twin Princes. After all, they all had to be slain in the end.

Suddenly, a terrifying force surged from the hanged giant, sweeping forward like a violent wind toward Ashes.

"Boom!"

Ashes quickly raised his left arm, covered by a small round shield.

"Unfazed by Gwyn."

Seeing this, the hanged giant seemed to be provoked by something. A sinister crimson light flashed in his eyes, and a strange chant echoed through the temple.

"#!@%@#￥%...#￥!￥!O!U!T!"

Ashes couldn't understand what he was saying, but he could clearly sense that the giant was furious.

"Is this the second phase already?"

Ashes looked puzzled. He hadn't even made a move yet, and the giant was already using his ultimate attack?

Just as he was about to strike, a massive, grand shadow suddenly enveloped Ashes completely. In his ear, a voice echoed, sounding as if it were angry and exasperated. Although it was mixed with incoherent mumbling, this time, Ashes heard it clearly.

Among the gibberish, there was a hint of slurred Chinese with a noticeable tongue-clicking sound.

"%@#￥#@R!N!M! Get out! #@%#@￥!"

(End of the Chapter)