Simon pulled out his Nail and slashed at the Stalking Devout's armor, but it only made a 'ding' sound, completely failing to penetrate. The crazed beast raised its armor, revealing its pale skull beneath the mask, and the two separated armor plates rapidly swung, creating a whirlwind and cleaving down like a guillotine.
Simon teleported backward, but the Stalking Devout pursued relentlessly, each strike lunging forward a certain distance with an extremely wide swing range. After three unsuccessful strikes, it quickly retracted its armor, once again completely shielding its weak point, then retreated to create distance, its eyes beneath the mask filled with cold, precise killing intent.
Simon grasped its attack rhythm and once again slashed his Nail at the opponent's mask, instantly retreating. The moment the Stalking Devout opened its armor to strike, Simon thrust his Nail into the air in front of him, and a pure white, beautifully patterned light sword shot out from it, hitting the vital spot and splitting the Stalking Devout's fragile skull.
Blood sprayed rapidly, and the Stalking Devout convulsed a few times before falling dead.
Simon kicked aside the large insect, walked to the end of the platform, floated down to the lower level, turned around and walked in the opposite direction, reached the end, went down, turned into another platform, walked straight, killed a small Weaver, killed a Stalking Devout, passed through a hidden dark cave, and arrived in front of a massive structure.
This appeared to be a grand palace entirely embedded in the wall; dim light emanated from within the tall palace gates, illuminating Simon's face.
He entered the Weaver's Den.
Inside, it was an all-metal structure, with large, carved metal panels covering the entire Den. Countless long threads hung diagonally from the ceiling, taut and straight, feeling like steel wires.
A few lightfly lanterns provided meager illumination, and many large Weaver corpses lay scattered on the ground, their spherical heads unusually large, looking like stone sculptures.
How did they die?
He didn't know.
Where did the other Weavers go?
Perhaps they left Hallownest and returned to their homeland.
Simon ventured deeper into the Weaver's Den and found an area with many spools of silk suspended. These threads faintly emitted Soul Energy, which must have been the Deepnest Silk.
Continuing to explore, killing a few annoying Deepnest Hunters, Simon saw a pile of Weaver corpses at a lookout-like spot, and a Charm lying on the ground. This Charm was Weaver's Song, which could generate Weaver hatchlings to accompany and protect the wearer.
It required two Charm notches. Coincidentally, Simon removed the Gruz Charm he had previously worn and put on Weaver's Song. Tiny specks of light appeared, transforming into small Weavers, like a group of clumsy white spiders, running and jumping everywhere, waving transparent threads.
Looking at these Weaver hatchlings, Simon smiled.
Taking an entire spool of Deepnest Silk, Simon hurried back to the Mask Maker. As he reached the entrance of the Weaver's Den, he saw a Weaver standing by the door. The faint light illuminated her body, like a still life in an oil painting, but she saw Simon, turned, and left with extreme speed.
Simon knew this might be the princess of the Weaver tribe, but she didn't seem to want to interact with strangers, and he wasn't going to strike up a conversation. Carrying the spool of silk, he left the Den; there was no trace of the Weaver, and he didn't care, returning to the Mask Maker's workshop along the same path.
The second time he saw the Mask Maker, Simon noticed he had changed his mask. As expected of a Mask Maker, he had a complete collection of various mask styles, ensuring a new image for every visitor.
The Mask Maker had already drawn three root systems into fine threads and woven them into a rough mask blank, spread out on the workbench, just waiting for Simon to bring the Deepnest Silk.
"You're here, and you've brought the silk! Excellent, hand it over to me." The Mask Maker impatiently beckoned, his gaunt arm reaching out to take the spool of silk with surprising strength.
The Mask Maker skillfully pulled out the silk, threaded it onto a long needle, and immediately began sewing the mask.
He held the rough mask blank in one hand and guided the needle with the other, sewing in circles from the outside in.
Simon watched curiously as the long needle flew up and down, continuously stitching the silk into the rough mask blank. The spool of silk rotated constantly, and a large amount of Deepnest Silk merged into the rough mask blank, making its texture increasingly thick and tough.
The root, emitting a soft, bright white light, was encased under layers of fine threads, gradually becoming simple and unadorned. The Deepnest Silk seemed to melt into the light, the fine stitches spreading out like a colloid, the surface as smooth as a mirror. The mask looked like a piece of waxed talc.
The Mask Maker murmured softly, and through his complex and ever-changing mask, a fervent aura emanated.
Simon vaguely sensed the aura of the Void.
It emanated from the Mask Maker; he was being corroded by the Void!
Simon reached up and pulled off the Mask Maker's mask. The Mask Maker remained unmoved. On his pale carapace face beneath the mask, black tears dripped from a pair of large eyes; the Void was constantly seeping from his skull.
One could imagine that the Mask Maker's mind must have been filled with violent, cruel, and fanatical thoughts.
But he was not insane. His will supported his body, not letting him collapse or go mad. He poured all the passion and vitality ignited by madness into his hands, into his mask. He seemed to be burning himself, scattering specks of light into the world.
Simon fell into deep thought.
Hallownest, this small civilization, had endured too many storms. The malice hidden in the dark corners of the world constantly threatened Hallownest's development, such as ancient gods like The Radiance, and the Void, which could resist The Radiance, was not a safe and harmless reliable force either.
In this world, entering the Dream World was a period full of risks. A small bug could come into close contact with countless great wills in the Dream World, but more often than not, this brought destruction and madness.
Bugs were tiny, and the world of bugs was not large. Any slightly larger storm could blow down or crush Hallownest, this humble dwelling.
Those pioneers who held up torches in the icy, snowy darkness and pioneered civilization—the White King, the Five Knights, the Vessels, the Dreamers—they were like brilliant fireballs, bringing temporary warmth to the desolate land, but ultimately they were cooled and frozen by the snow and wind.
There were five endings in the original work.
The most ideal one for Hallownest was for the Little Knight to kill The Radiance, then merge with the Void, suppressing the Void's madness.
This ending created a space for Hallownest to survive, and a brand new civilization would surely flourish.
At that time, it would certainly be calm, and everything would be renewed.
Simon knew he should pursue this goal.
If the Little Knight succeeded.
He would travel the world, or help build Hallownest, and all would be well.
But if the Little Knight failed.
He would be the darkness that kills the light, the beacon that shatters the shadows.
-----------------------
Want to read the newest chapters in advance?
All advanced content is now available on Patreon!
👉 pat*eon*com/Greyhounds
Support me – unlock early access!