Chapter 00074: The Titan
# The Titan
Chapter 74
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 74: The Titan
The chosen one's original stone has twelve stages, which are: Summoning, Transformation, Rebirth, and Ascendance.
In the Summoning stage, abilities grow and evolve, while the Transformation stage focuses on the fusion of the soul and body, gradually removing the flaws of mortal flesh.
At the Rebirth stage, once the soul, ability, and body are completely combined, the chosen one can truly be called a fantastical being, surpassing mere mortals.
Depending on the merits of a person and the patterns formed, some can bathe in raging flames or soak in lava without flinching, while others can shrink or expand at will, concealing their forms.
There are those who, like legendary spirits, can harmonize with plants and borrow their vitality, and then there are others who can turn into monstrous beasts.
The invisible rebirth transformation allows for a spiritual manifestation!
Under the influence of their patterns, some can even exhibit characteristics of the Nether River, completely transforming between soul and spirit essence, where any portion of spirit essence can be viewed as essence of self.
With such transformations, they achieve an invisible title—infesting countless entities, omnipresent.
Yet alas, what used to be seamless skills suddenly faltered upon entering the Rift... like a certain Mr. Ji, who was severely taught a lesson by the local herring.
What a mess!
Everything is a complete mess!
Originally, those soulless puppets are the easiest to infest and command, yet... confronted with insanity, he nearly fell prey to their madness himself!
A whirlwind of chaotic and frenzied spirit essence was overwhelming; if he carelessly swallowed it all, even an invisible being would likely undergo a twisted transformation.
Everyone at the Dragon Festival merely admires the power of dragons, attempting to harness a fraction of the apocalypse's power from the origins shared with the wise.
But that doesn't mean they seek chaos!
Alright, there are indeed some lunatics, but, at the very least, 'Invisible' is not one of them!
It’s hard to believe how such a noble sage could turn their Rift into something akin to a cesspool...
Even for the invisible one, who feasted upon spirit essence and souls, they could barely bring themselves to partake!
Yet the many traces left by the sages undeniably confirm his initial suspicion.
This is the final resting place of Mercury!
Hearing about that guy’s exploits was undoubtedly true...
Deep underground, the invisible one greedily gazed upon the vast Rift before him—perhaps he could finally find a sage's body this time!
Just thinking of this made him thirst with anxiety.
He had never felt such a profound temptation.
Ji Jue felt as if he were ravenous to the point of madness.
In the temporary safe haven of the industrious spirit ball, Ji Jue struggled to regain his bearings, ensuring his abilities, body, and soul were in peak condition.
He was salivating like a madman—not due to the presence of An Ran and the little ox, but from the mere essence at his soul’s threshold…
His power was wildly restless.
It felt like a rabid dog on the end of a leash; no, to be precise, Ji Jue felt as if a part of him was on the verge of madness, wanting to roll about, feeling ants crawl all over him, pleading, “Just one bite, bro, just one bite!”
He could only exert all his energy to hold himself back.
Telling himself: patience, patience, patience.
Before, he could say the location wasn’t safe and danger might be lurking.
But now, hidden within Brother Ball's workshop, even his already fragile will was nearing its breaking point, overwhelmed by the gnawing hunger inside.
Until that hunger peaked, Ji Jue could no longer resist.
Damn it! I can’t endure it any longer!
His bound power instantly broke free, the mark of mechanical descent shone with brilliance, rushing towards the scattered essence still within him, and with a howl—one monstrous bite!
It vanished entirely.
Then, there was nothing afterward.
Ji Jue’s world went dark.
It was as if someone had suddenly struck him on the forehead with a massive hammer, and while the noise buzzed, his soul drifted.
There seemed to be a voice ringing in his ears, but it was unclear, until finally, he realized, oh, that was the sound of my own brain boiling.
He completely lost consciousness.
Endless feelings, memories, and insights flowed into his soul like a waterfall, suddenly paralyzing Ji Jue's thinking ability, filling him up, yet still pouring in.
It continued streaming turbulently!
It felt like only a moment passed, yet it seemed as if centuries had gone by, too many chaotic scenes and memories surged forth, more importantly, it was an experience of forging and refining!
The marks and history inscribed in the furnace sprang vividly to life!
No, it felt so real, as though it was happening within his own body, only now remembered, hence the clarity.
He occasionally burned through night and day, melting unknown materials, repeatedly suppressing resistance that seemed alive with fierce flames.
At other times, he processed vast quantities of steel and blood in a manner as smooth as flowing water, creating heart-like mechanical constructs from flesh and blood.
More often, he was partaking in a colossal project, exerting all his strength to purify the iron light within the furnace over and over again, striving for an endless approach to material limits.
It seemed like a broken sword blade.
No matter how he called or touched it, only silence answered.
Occasionally, in a fleeting moment, it might tremble slightly as if awakening from a long slumber, producing a resonating sword cry that echoed throughout the Rift.
Its name was “Revolution.”
With the flame of the last dragon as fire, stemming from the bones of the primordial sage, without yet taking form—a moment when the blade is honed to completion would yield a radiant light, capable of severing the grandeur of the eternal age!
Ji Jue was deeply immersed.
He forgot everything.
Wholeheartedly, he invested himself in what felt like it was honing his very soul upon the grindstone until that day the blade was revitalized, the first rust flake fell from the sword.
He thought he heard the sound of the world collapsing.
Yet it felt so distant.
After an endlessly long time, it seemed like he awoke from slumber and heard unfamiliar words.
Inside that bell tower, the world outside was already in ruins.
The Celestial Tower was nowhere to be seen.
Yet within the broken bell tower, the dialogue continued.
“This conception is truly inventive, but it may be a bit too exaggerated,” said the emaciated man with a sigh. “Moreover, the history of the utmost morality is already part of the tapestry; what you’re doing is mostly in vain.”
“If you don’t venture, who would know?”
Mercury still stood at the window, gazing out at the ruins, “Are you here to stop me, Titan?”
“墨 is gone, so don’t bring up those messy names again. Besides, even when I was a Titan, I never forced you to do anything, right?”
The man referred to as the Titan sighed, waved his hand: “You know very well what consequences may arise from this. I am simply curious… Mercury, will you regret the choices you make?”
Mercury answered resolutely: “Never.”
“You will in the future,” said the Titan.
“Let’s talk about the future when it comes.” Mercury eventually turned back to tell him: “Titan, you should leave.”
But the Titan remained seated, not budging, merely gazing at her for a long time.
“... I have regretted.”
He said, “I have regretted many things I've done, not just once. But when regretting, it is already too late; no amount of confession will be of any use.”
The Titan sighed and earnestly pleaded: “Do not repeat my mistakes.”
Mercury said nothing further.
Silently, she stared at him.
After a while, she withdrew her gaze and bid farewell: “Titan, you should leave.”
The Titan did not speak again, sighed softly, and got up to leave.
From that day forth, no one visited anymore.
Within the workshop, only silence remained.
Aside from the occasional alchemical work, Mercury spent more and more of her time standing at the window, staring at everything outside.
Just watching.
As if waiting, waiting, waiting some more.
When alone, she would occasionally sing, her sparse voice echoing in the silent workshop.
“Longing for home, longing for home, home is truly lovely… The sky clear, the wind cool, homesickness comes like a tide… How are the people at home now, always remembered and never forgotten…”
In her song, everything outside transformed from ruins to towns, then back from towns to ruins.
Again and again, an endless cycle.
But neither her homeland nor her loved ones were to be found.
Until one day, the figure that had stood at the window from the beginning also vanished without a trace.
From then on, for four hundred years, what echoed outside the window were no longer false laughter and joy but genuine… wails and cries!
And thus came the long dream's end.
Inside the workshop, Ji Jue gasped awake, drenched in sweat, panting fiercely.
An Ran handed him water.
“How long did I sleep?” Ji Jue felt as if his throat were about to crack from dryness.
“A little over three hours,” Xiao An replied.
Only three hours, yet it felt as if centuries had passed.
The records and marks left in the furnace were so profound that Ji Jue nearly lost himself, yet as he tried to recall, everything rapidly blurred and his coherent memories shattered, dissipating swiftly.
Even when he attempted to summarize or describe, he found it impossible.
The only impression that remained was the scene he saw in his dreams, the conversation between the figure referred to as the Titan and Mercury.
Assuming Ji Jue's mind hadn't been completely scorched, the Titan he saw should be the leader of the resistance organization "墨" from the Eternal Empire.
Upon waking from the dream, he couldn’t even recall the Titan’s face, having entirely forgotten even the characteristics of his voice.
But the insignia worn on the other's chest was something he would never forget, even if turned to ash.
So familiar.
He numbly raised his wrist to glance at his watch.
On the dial, like the silhouette of mechanical gears, the mark shone silently, glimmering brightly.
Both were identical!
“The Celestial Rail?” Ji Jue murmured in shock.
According to the Omniversal Knowledge, the existence of T5 had appeared during the time of the Eternal Empire, and the Celestial Rail should have held a critical position even then, continuing for over a century after the onset of the Age of Catastrophe.
The Titan bore insignia related to the Celestial Rail; what connection could they possibly share?
He fell into deep thought.
Then… naturally, he could figure nothing out.
There were simply too many missing clues, too many gaps in the middle; all Ji Jue could grasp were some fragments of history tracing back to bygone days, like fleeting glimpses brought by essence.
If he were to unravel the mystery behind the fall of the Eternal Empire with just this, why wouldn't he just sit on the higher throne of the Ether as a prophet instead of being a mere artisan?
It was utterly incomprehensible.
But there was no need to dwell on what he could not understand; it was far more important to focus on the present.
Like, for instance—
Ji Jue looked down at his hands,
—from the gains brought forth by the essence!
The chapter ends here.