The White Palace was bathed in the mists of dreams, with pure white clouds separating its towers.
The Little Knight delved deeper, and finally, flying through layers of clouds, arrived at the White King's bedchamber.
The bedchamber was vastly different from the main body of the White Palace; although the architectural style was consistent, the building materials here were a glossy black, like fine black glazed porcelain, deep and elegant.
Advancing up the stairs, the path was strewn with the corpses of King's Idols.
What happened here was unknown; Bos there was no sign of life.
He took the elevator straight to the top.
He slowly walked through the long corridor.
In the dark, spacious hall, upon a black high platform, within a deep, domed throne, a pale King leaned dejectedly.
The Little Knight stepped onto the platform, approached the throne, and looked at the King's remains.
He swung his Dream Nail.
"At all costs," was the White King's dream-whisper, the White King's obsession.
At all costs, countless Vessels died.
The Little Knight abruptly pulled the White King from his throne.
A white light flew out and landed in the Little Knight's arms.
It was the other half of the white fragment.
The two fragments combined, forming a complete Charm, and powerful energy erupted as the dream slowly faded.
In the dazzling, hazy light, a line of prophecy emerged.
…Soul of Wyrm. Soul of Root. void heart…
The first two combined formed the King's Soul.
This sacred Charm, symbolizing the union between higher beings, allowed its wielder to slowly absorb the infinite soul within it.
Furthermore, it could open the path for the birth of Vessels.
The light before the Little Knight receded, and he fell to the ground in the palace square, before him the King's Idols, and the desolate ruins of the White Palace.
The King's Idol's dream seal was broken, and the Little Knight could enter the White Palace again.
But there was no longer any need to go.
"Come… Abyss… beneath the corpses… birthplace…"
The torment of pain slowly settled in the rippling void, turning into gray-yellow catkins, clinging to the pure white branches, blooming into brilliant flowers.
At the bottom of the Abyss, the pile of corpses trembled, forming a concave pit.
The Little Knight leaped into it.
Broken Vessel masks piled up like thick earth, with passages inside, and the walls were also made of bones.
All kinds of horns grew wildly like weeds.
Resentment, unwillingness.
Terror, chilling cold.
The ghosts of Vessels blocked the way.
Void substance formed jets, obstructing the passage.
Grim spikes were everywhere.
In this bottomless, endless darkness, every step was extremely difficult.
Finally, he arrived.
The abyss of the Abyss, the hell of hell.
A cracked Black Egg with a mirror-like surface.
The Little Knight's figure was reflected.
He stared at his own reflection.
He swung his Dream Nail.
He slashed across the Black Egg.
The void erupted.
The Little Knight fell to the ground, his vision swallowed by darkness.
"No matter the cost."
…
Vessels fell like rain.
A rattling sound came from the pile of corpses, and the Little Knight crawled out.
In the complete darkness, only things a short distance away were visible.
There was no light; he could only rely on his cloak, the Monarch Wings, and that small Nail.
The Little Knight came to the well wall, jumping up from one step to the next.
Little by little, step by step.
He ascended, then missed a step and fell.
Corpses constantly fell past him.
Confused dream-whispers emanated from the void.
"No mind to think."
Upward.
"No will to break."
Continue upward.
"No voice to cry suffering."
Stumbling.
"Born of God and Void."
Forward, higher, still upward.
On the high platform in front of the gate.
The White King and the Pure Vessel stood.
The White King was still as small as he was in the White Palace.
The Pure Vessel, however, was vastly different from the statue in the City of Tears.
He was still very young at this time, and the only difference from the Little Knight was that his horns were a bit longer.
The White King exited, and the Pure Vessel followed closely behind him.
The Little Knight's hands clutched the edge of the high platform, his body swaying precariously.
The Pure Vessel tilted his head slightly, seemingly gazing at the Little Knight, or perhaps at the Abyss.
He turned his head and left, his footsteps clear and strong.
The Little Knight weakly let go.
Falling.
The Abyss trembled.
He fell into darkness again.
…
"You shall seal the blinding light that plagues the dreams of all.
You are the Vessel.
You are the Hollow Knight."
The will of the void surged, infecting the King's Soul, transforming it into a black-faced, white-eyed emblem.
This was the void heart.
The emptiness hidden within was now unrestrained. It united the null existence under the wielder's will.
The Little Knight's void essence was revealed.
He woke up.
A cylindrical-headed Vessel sat beside him.
This Vessel was truly peculiar.
His mask was like a long column covered in eye-holes, resembling an evil, barbaric totem, and beneath the mask was a body condensed from black void substance, wearing a loose cloak and carrying an ornate Nail.
The Little Knight stood up and walked to this Vessel's side.
"You're awake, my friend."
This Vessel could actually speak, which made it even stranger.
"Do you still remember me?"
The Little Knight nodded.
Familiar pheromones, familiar tone.
It was Simon.
"I saw everything you experienced; I was the whispering voice that guided you all along," Simon said gently, "You did well. You are our pride."
Simon could feel that inexplicable connection with the Little Knight, which must have been the effect of the void heart.
"You connected all the void wills, and I was also awakened by you, otherwise I would have remained asleep until I perished," Simon explained.
"You haven't visited Quirrel at the Blue Lake yet," Simon continued to murmur, "Then please return that stone tablet to me; I'll go find him myself."
The Little Knight did not hand over the stone tablet, but instead took out his Dream Nail and raised it high.
He vanished in the blazing dream light, teleporting away through the Dream Gate.
Simon was stunned; he still had so much more to say.
…
The days of struggling in the void were not easy.
But Simon didn't have a very deep impression of that time.
His current mood could be described as "struggling with sorrow, hair frosted with age, disheartened, setting aside a cup of turbid wine."
It wasn't entirely accurate, but there was indeed a sense of weariness from having experienced much.
He was now a Vessel, yet not a Vessel.
He possessed both biological and void attributes.
His new body, condensed from the void, had all the functions of his past self, plus a powerful new inclusiveness.
With a new body, he also had entirely new perceptions of the world.
The void was truly a powerful substance, sensitive and swift, without the limitations of stamina. Simon felt his reaction speed was several orders of magnitude faster than before, perhaps already approaching the realm of a god.
Often, a thought in his mind would instantly translate into the desired action.
Simon drew his Nail and swung it lightly.
It was indeed different, and this feeling was growing deeper and deeper.
A complete transformation.
It seemed like a great success, but Simon knew that he had only forcibly broken free from the void's shackles through the Little Knight's burst of will. Although his body had been completely reformed, his dream was still deeply affected by the void. If this problem couldn't be solved, then the dream's assistance to him would be greatly weakened.
…
Blue Lake.
Quirrel sat by the shore, and the Little Knight stood behind him, having appeared at some unknown time.
Quirrel turned his head and smiled, "We meet again, my little friend. I've finally found inner peace here. Now I feel like I can embark on a new life again, perhaps I should go see Dirtmouth, just as that friend said, I too have connected my destiny to this kingdom."
The Little Knight swung his Dream Nail.
Quirrel's dream-whisper said, "Monomon, is this what you wished to see? I will inherit your will…"
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