"The paths to becoming a powerhouse in this world boil down to two: magic and martial arts. Magic is divided into eight major systems, while martial skills have even more schools and complex professions. Let me ask you, if a Grand Archmage and a Sword Saint were to fight to the death, who would ultimately prevail?"
Rogue pondered for a long time before answering, "If they fought one-on-one, the Sword Saint would likely win. If each led an army, the Archmage would undoubtedly be victorious. The key to victory or defeat lies in time."
Roderick nodded. With a wave of his staff, a small chessboard appeared between them. He smiled and said, "Come, play a game with me first."
Though somewhat puzzled, Rogue complied and opened the game. The young and old Necromancers quickly made over a dozen moves each.
As they played, Roderick said, "In terms of pure destructive power, an Archmage's magic far surpasses a Sword Saint's martial skills. Yet in a one-on-one fight, the Archmage is almost certain to lose. The reason is an additional factor: time. This time factor stems from control over power. Although a Sword Saint's power is lesser, they have absolute control over it. An Archmage mobilizes the magical energy between heaven and earth to harm the enemy; the power can shake the skies and earth, but gathering that magical energy requires time. Therefore, before any mage engages in combat, all their preparations are aimed at buying time to cast powerful spells!"
Their chess skills were worlds apart. While explaining, the old mage's hands weren't idle. In moments, he had taken two of Rogue's pawns, breaking his pawn structure.
"People in this world often think that possessing power means being strong. Just like assuming a Level 5 Mage must be stronger than a Level 4 Mage. For example, my queen on this board is far stronger than your bishop." As he spoke, the skeletal hand lifted, and the queen flew from its position, capturing Rogue's light-squared bishop and settling dominantly in the center, instantly putting immense pressure on Rogue's entire formation.
Rogue fell into deep thought, but the old Necromancer's leisurely voice didn't stop.
"Some clever individuals, upon reaching a certain level of power, discover that raw power isn't everything. Understanding, controlling, and applying that power is also crucial. So they begin to delve into these aspects. Take David Rocherio's sword skill; it doesn't rely on immense power but on exquisite control, allowing him to use skill to overcome strength and defeat the strong while being weak. Look at Mist Illusion; he doesn't have much physical strength, yet he can easily split hardwood comparable to stone. He relies on a thorough understanding of the material itself and supreme skill in applying force."
"Ah, I see!" A spark of inspiration flashed for Rogue. He pushed a pawn forward, reorganizing his pawn structure and forcing Roderick to retreat his queen.
"Heh heh, you catch on quickly. The principle is the same for magic. The spell that leads to victory isn't necessarily the most powerful one, but the most appropriate one. In this regard... you have a natural instinct for it."
As they chatted, Rogue's pieces were gradually decimated. He was left with three pawns, a queen, and a knight against the old Necromancer's five pawns, queen, bishop, rook, and knight, all intact. Moreover, his position was in shambles; it seemed his king would have nowhere to escape in just a few moves.
The old Necromancer waved his staff, and the board rotated. "Come, let's switch sides now!"
They took each other's pieces and began a new game. Although Rogue's chess skill was far inferior to the old Necromancer's, his material advantage was simply too great, and he controlled all the key squares on the board. No matter how high the old Necromancer's skill, he couldn't reverse the situation. He struggled desperately for seven or eight moves before finally being cornered. In two more moves, Rogue would deliver checkmate.
"My child, my chess skill is much higher than yours. Why can't I win now?"
Rogue thought for a moment and said, "I understand. Absolute power is the foundation of everything. When the gap in power reaches a certain degree, skill alone can no longer overcome strength. David's sword skill is beautiful, but it's all show and no substance; it can't truly be called power. Rather than spending effort on those sword illusions, a simple, direct thrust would be more effective."
"Hmm, it's excellent that you understand this. In fact, your understanding and mastery of power far exceed David's. For someone at his level to claim he has grasped the essence of power... heh heh, how ridiculous! But most of the so-called mainland powerhouses can only remain at that level. Purely in terms of control over power, even Ophirock might not be more profound than you now. If your power levels were restricted to the same degree, they couldn't defeat you. But the absolute difference in power between you is too vast, no longer something skill can bridge. It's like a fully armed mouse – invincible in the world of mice, perhaps even able to fight a cat. But facing a tiger, no matter how well-equipped or skilled the mouse is, it is powerless."
The old Necromancer paused, giving Rogue time to think, then continued, "When dealing with small fry like the demon realm spies, even if that so-called Sword Saint Prothesis came personally, he might not be more effective than you. But if the opponent were Ophirock, your outcomes would be completely different. Therefore, if you want to become a true powerhouse, the primary task is to increase your own mana!"
Rogue sighed deeply, somewhat dejected. He had thought he might not need to work as hard as before. It seemed he still had to meditate daily to increase his mana. But... was there a quick method?
*Thwack!* The fat man received a heavy blow on the head from the Necromancer. Even though it was an illusion, it hurt just the same. "How can such a good thing exist? Increasing mana only relies on your own effort. Put in one unit of work, and you become stronger by one unit!"
Rogue gave a sheepish grin and didn't dare let his mind wander again.
"Let's look again. What is the essence of skill?" Roderick set up a new board.
They played again. This time, however, Roderick instructed Rogue on chess strategy as they played. Rogue was clever and caught on quickly. After a dozen or so moves, although he was still being soundly beaten, the situation was much better compared to the previous game where he had no chance to fight back.
"The essence of skill is rules!" The Necromancer's voice suddenly carried immense weight, each word booming like a landslide or tidal wave, exploding thunderously in Rogue's mind.
A game of chess has its rules.
A family has its house laws.
A nation has its legal code.
Water flows downhill, trees grow towards the sunlight, deer and horses follow water and grass, migratory birds move with the seasons.
Even the heavens have rain, dew, wind, and frost, and distinct seasons. The earth has mountains, rivers, lakes, and dragon veins of telluric energy.
All things in the world, the sun, moon, and stars, all operate according to rules.
Rogue's mind was filled with thunder and lightning, feeling endless waves of wondrous understanding and clear insights. His hands produced brilliant moves frequently, and in moments, he had turned the tide of the game.
"Most powerhouses in the world ultimately progress from power to skill, and then from skill back to power. It is like the three stages: first, seeing a tree as a tree, seeing a flower as a flower; then, seeing a tree not as a tree, seeing a flower not as a flower; and finally, seeing the flower still as a flower, seeing the tree still as a tree. In truth, returning to simplicity—all rivers flowing to the same sea—they are still merely lingering outside the gate. Since I was once the head of the Ten Great Archmages, and you are the one I chose (well, there were no other choices at the time), you absolutely must not disgrace me! The path to increasing mana is long; haste will not help. But if your insight and vision remain stuck at the stage of 'seeing the flower as a flower, seeing the tree as a tree,' that would be truly unacceptable."
Their game reached a stalemate.
"Child, what you saw that day is the most fundamental law governing this world's operation, above all other rules. It's just that your current power is insufficient, and you cannot fully comprehend it yet. Right now, you have seen, but you have not truly perceived. One day, you will see all things as emptiness, yet you will still have perceived."
In the blink of an eye, the game took a sharp turn for the worse for Roderick, who was now in dire straits.
"My child, one day, when you face someone who understands all rules and possesses supreme skill and power, how will you achieve victory?"
This time, Rogue was stumped. His hand, poised to deliver the checkmate, remained suspended.
He pondered bitterly for a moment, finally placing the piece and checkmating Roderick, wanting to see how he would resolve this situation.
Roderick gave a mysterious smile. The board suddenly changed. The king moved a long diagonal, hiding in the corner within its own camp. Simultaneously, all the pawns promoted to queens right where they stood, only to find themselves checkmating Rogue instead.
"This!... You... You're cheating?!" Rogue was so angry he could barely speak.
"Child, look carefully. Am I cheating?"
Rogue focused his psychic power, carefully probing the entire board. Suddenly, he cried out in surprise, "Ah!? How have the rules changed?"
"Hahahaha! I set the rules, so of course I can change them. No matter how well you master the rules, if you threaten my existence, I will establish a new set of rules to restrict you, bind you, until I strangle you."
*True power lies in setting the rules.*
Rogue fell into deep thought once more.
Suddenly, he stood up, waved his hand, and the entire chess game dissipated into smoke.
"I'm not playing!" the fat man said with a beaming smile.
"Hahahaha!" The old Necromancer laughed heartily to the sky. "Good, good, good! Although I failed to evade the Judgment Light, with you and Fengyue, the flawless order of this world has already been cracked. My life's work has not been in vain."
In the midst of his wild laughter, the Necromancer began to glow from the bottom up. His body rapidly transformed into countless points of light, scattering into the air before disappearing without a trace.
"Actually... we could also play *my* version," Rogue murmured. Another chessboard appeared before him.
On Rogue's side: one king, ten queens.
On the old Necromancer's side: only a lone king, unable to move.
Before departing, Roderick finally saw this board. A flicker of contentment passed through his eye sockets.
The small house, so lively just moments before, now felt incredibly empty.
A long time passed.
A drop of water fell, splashing up a few tiny motes of dust.
*Blankness.*
*Immense blankness.*
Rogue didn't know how to fill this void, nor did he want to.
The fire in the fireplace gradually died out, and the small house slowly filled with a chill.
In the chair opposite, not long ago, sat Roderick, the greatest Necromancer, who had topped the list of the mainland's Ten Great Archmages for over a century. But now, all that former greatness had passed like flowing water. Only that ordinary chair remained, standing there silently.
*The outstanding tree in the forest is the first to be felled by the wind.*
There were at least nine other Grand Archmages. Why did the Judgment Light single out Roderick?
Roderick's desolate voice echoed in Rogue's heart once more: "Every Grand Necromancer is a master of manipulating souls. This, perhaps, is the most important reason the God Clan hunts Necromancers."
That's it. It must be this reason. Souls should be the domain of the gods. Therefore, the gods use the Judgment Light to exterminate all those who blaspheme. Correspondingly, the Church of Light uses the stake to deal with all heretics.
But you, the exalted Father God on high! You proclaim yourself the father of all living beings. You embody compassion and peace. Under your holy light, all creatures share your glory.
None dare loudly chant your name, only listen wholeheartedly to your teachings, follow your guidance, and bring your gospel to every corner.
Those who believe in your name – the suffering shall be redeemed; the hungry shall be fed; the cold shall be warmed.
Beneath these various blessings, why can you not tolerate even a small amount of heresy?
He who was once the greatest Necromancer now leaves not even a trace of his soul's imprint. After a few more decades, when those who remember him have passed away with the wind and moon, it is feared that future generations will no longer know that such a person ever existed. Yet this chair he once sat upon, unfeeling and unaware, sturdy and enduring, might last another hundred years or more.
The dull-witted live long; the gifted die young. What principle is this?
With the Soul Orb, Rodericks could have absolutely evaded the Judgment Light and lived peacefully for centuries. Why did he necessarily choose the path of opposing the God Clan? Why did he sacrifice nearly endless life just to introduce a variable into this world's order?
The cold moonlight shone through the window onto Rogue's face. Without the fire, the small house was already cold as an ice cellar.
Rogue sat quietly by the window, the newly started chess game still beside him. He pondered bitterly, unaware that his face was already streaked with tears.
Reflecting on his twenty-three years of life experience, it seemed something had always been missing. In the eyes of moral scholars, he could be considered utterly wicked. Among the nobility, his actions were actually rather mediocre. He had committed murder, arson, framing, and even performed many acts of charity. But behind all these actions, what was the purpose? Whether for good or evil, there is always a goal. Where was *his* goal?
Could it be that for twenty-three years, the so-called meaning of his life had been a blank slate?
Black mist surged. Fengyue stepped out quietly from the Otherworld.
Looking at Fengyue, Rogue suddenly began to weep bitterly.
Fengyue's massive bone wings spread open, gently enveloping Rogue. Beneath the wings was a warm world, like the final sanctuary in this world.
A ray of sunlight fell on Rogue's face, reminding him that a new day had arrived.
Rogue suddenly stood up, looking around, only to find that Fengyue had already returned to the Otherworld.
Moving his numb limbs slightly, the fat man exhaled a puff of turbid breath with a "Hah!" "Aaaaah!" He beat his chest like a gorilla, managing to gather a bit of spirit. Thump, thump! He jumped up and down on the spot a few times. Suddenly he stopped, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Carved into the floorboards were the words: "Live." Written in the ornate Gothic script commonly used among the great nobles and the Church.
Yes, live. As long as one lives, there is hope. As long as one lives, tomorrow is always an unknown. Forget about meaning, ignore doctrines – first, one must live, and live well too.
With this burden lifted from his heart, Rogue came back to life, as if he had put down an enormous weight.
But since when did Fengyue learn to write? And with such flowing, elegant penmanship? The self-aware Rogue knew that comparing his calligraphy to Fengyue's was like the gap between a magic apprentice and a Grand Archmage. The fat man squatted down, tracing the grooves in the floor with his finger, feeling the slight prick of the wood splinters on his fingertips.
The streets outside gradually grew noisy. Occasionally, a carriage would clatter past. Rogue washed up briefly, planning to go out for a walk. He pushed open the door, and a sudden gust of wind carrying a chill seeped into his neck, making him shiver.
The street was filled with a festive atmosphere. On the side of Binshe Avenue belonging to the wealthy district, with its deep-rooted mansions and large courtyards, colorful streamers, balls, and sculptures illuminated by magical lights adorned the grand houses, making them resplendent. The other side of the avenue mostly had houses like Rogue's small building, suitable for upper-middle-class families. In comparison, they looked rather shabby. Binshe Avenue was very wide, with a central green belt planted with neatly trimmed evergreen shrubs. Every few meters, a cedar tree was planted, deliberately or not, separating the two sides. Although the people living on Binshe Avenue could only barely be considered part of the upper class in Riel City, this intermittent green barrier gave them a sense of tangible distance from the middle class. Even though this sense of security was only psychological, it still caused the land prices on the two sides of Binshe Avenue to differ more and more.
Seeing the city filled with holiday atmosphere and the joyful pedestrians everywhere, Rogue felt the immense, unfillable void in his heart even more acutely. Although Fengyue's message had temporarily suppressed the sorrow in his heart, it wasn't enough to make his hollow soul full again.
Suddenly, a wave of homesickness washed over him. Perhaps it was time to go home for a visit.
Although Rogue didn't have much attachment to his home and had completely cut off contact over the past year, they were, after all, his flesh-and-blood relatives. In his childhood, whenever old Rivers got drunk, he would take his anger out on the servants. Sometimes, if Rogue was unlucky enough to be around, he would also receive a beating. But no matter what, he was still his father. He should go home for a visit.
*Go home.* Once this thought arose, it became irresistible. Perhaps he just needed some familial affection or emotional connection to fill the void in his heart. But regardless, he should go back once.
Were the flowering trees from his childhood still growing lushly? Were the townsfolk still as simple and easy to bully? And the family maid, Sula, his first woman – was she still there?
The New Year's Festival was long, a full two weeks of revelry, the most important traditional holiday in the Lyon Alliance.
Rogue made time to gather with his band of degenerate friends, informing them of his plan to leave for ten days to visit home. They all expressed understanding. Afterwards, Rogue notified Ophirock and began packing. Fess worked through the night, finally finishing the modifications to Rogue's original full plate armor, just in time for Rogue's departure the next morning.
On the second day of the New Year, Rogue sat astride a tall, jet-black horse. He wore a set of gleaming full Saint Knight plate armor, a crimson velvet cloak draped over his shoulders. An ancient-looking long-handled battle-axe hung from the horse's flank. Behind Rogue were ten fully armored, imposing, and fierce-looking Dragon and Beauty knights. These knights were all loners with no families to reunite with during the New Year. Having been drilled relentlessly in the military camp recently, they fought tooth and nail to follow their Squad Leader on his triumphant return home.
The other degenerates had initially wanted to go sightseeing, but upon hearing that Rogue's hometown was a remote, impoverished place with a population of only a few thousand, their interest waned. Furthermore, the Hammer of the War God was in its startup phase and truly couldn't be left unattended. Thus, they all remained in Riel City, practicing their butchering skills when out and honing their killing techniques when in.
Though friends may accompany you a thousand miles, you must part in the end. After the group of noble scoundrels each placed their orders for local specialties, they returned to the city satisfied. Rogue and his party urged their horses into a gallop and rode off swiftly. The journey was long and arduous, with many difficult and dangerous paths, and no shortage of bandits and strongmen. But Rogue and his companions were no longer what they used to be. Although accustomed to ganging up on others, they had recently learned to fight against greater numbers when dealing with mountain bandits and thieves. Any foolish bandits who crossed their path would merely be delivering travel expenses. Rogue's mood was truly poor; it was entirely possible they might stir up trouble along the way and clear out a few bandit dens.