The Little Knight walked into Ze'mer's dwelling, and the sound of his footsteps woke her.
She was stunned for a moment, then slowly, little by little, let out a painful wail, as if bitter memories in her heart were overwhelming her like a surging tide.
"Ah, ah, ah... This world, this cruel and evil world. Why did I wake up? Why did I persist?"
Ze'mer looked down at the Little Knight, her clear, cold gaze seemingly piercing through his mask, mixed with the frost of deep sorrow.
"Little one, you surely haven't known as much tragedy as I have. True love separated by death, never to meet again. My beloved passed away long ago, lying in a distant place, buried. Buried among her kin, whom she despised, who did not acknowledge our union, who rejected me... this outsider."
The Little Knight looked up, listening quietly.
In his silence, there seemed to be a subtle encouragement; the Grey Mourner sensed a look of pity, a pure kindness that, to a despairing soul, was like the warm sun melting winter snow. Her heart was both excited and sad.
"Is this alright?... Oh dear, oh dear. May I make a request? May I trouble you?"
The Little Knight nodded slightly.
"Stranger, can you place a gift for me at her grave? The gift is small, but the journey is long. She rests among her kin, near the Queen's Gardens. Can you do it? Perhaps this is an impossible task?"
She murmured to herself, "Am I mad? A stranger willing to accept such a request must possess a kindness almost forgotten."
The Grey Mourner took out a small flower from beneath her robe, holding it with a cherished and sorrowful demeanor. The small flower swayed gently, tender and soft, delicate against the wind, pure yet not coquettish.
Like a bell hanging from the eaves of an ancient temple.
The Little Knight took the small flower; he felt the powerful force hidden within it. To carry the heaviest emotions in the most delicate of things—this was love.
"Stranger, you have promised me a rare and precious favor. This is my last request; I will not ask for more. You must present the Delicate Flower. This flower is rare and fragile, truly unique. You must cherish it well, treating it as your own heart. If you are injured while carrying the Delicate Flower, or if you attempt a bumpy journey by Stag, it will be destroyed instantly. Her grave is in the Queen's overgrown mansion, surrounded by her kin, who will be hostile to your intrusion. Be extra careful. My hopes and eager anticipation rest on you, hoping you can bring me a small comfort."
The Little Knight set off.
He traveled on foot across most of Hallownest.
The Resting Grounds.
Blue Lake.
The Infected Crossroads.
Fog Canyon.
Queen's Gardens.
He defeated maddened, powerful foes.
He avoided traps.
His steps were swift and steady, one hand holding the flower, the other wielding his Nail; he was invincible, unstoppable.
In a narrow grotto somewhere in the Queen's Gardens, there was a small, idyllic spot.
Light poured down from the cave ceiling, and amidst the widespread thorns of pain, there stood a tombstone entwined with vines.
An inscription was on it.
"Here lies the child of a traitor."
The Little Knight gently placed the flower before the tombstone, and the Delicate Flower seeped into the earth.
The vines entwining the tombstone burst into heavy blossoms, standing proudly against the wind.
A slender figure appeared above the tombstone; it was a Mantis, who bowed to the Little Knight, then dissipated into the vast Skyrim.
The Little Knight returned to the Grey Mourner's dwelling.
As soon as she saw the Little Knight, she exclaimed in surprise: "Stranger, you did it? Really? I thought the cruelty of this world was insurmountable. But, Stranger, you possess such a compassionate heart. My beloved can feel my intentions even in death."
Ze'mer leaned back contentedly, her tone filled with relief and detachment, "Right, Stranger? Can this sorrow end? Can I be free?" She sighed deeply, "Ah, love. I, too, should end."
A light from an unknown source illuminated her body; she transformed into a bright, clear, clean light that inspired emotion and longing.
A fragment of a Vessel's mask was left behind. The Little Knight went up to pick it up and merged it into his own mask.
What to do next?
He didn't know, but he knew there were people he wanted to thank.
He returned to Ze'mer's beloved's grave and plucked flowers from the vines beside the tomb.
The first flower, he found Simon, who was devouring souls in Deepnest, and gave it to him.
"What beautiful power is hidden in this flower, so pure, I love it, thank you."
The second flower, he gave to the White Lady.
"Ah, he brought such a precious gift, but, alas, I will not accept it. This flower does not belong to me, nor to this kingdom. It was carried by a dear, excellent Knight from a peaceful land, enduring a long journey to arrive here, hiding rare power within its fragile petals. If anyone carries it, they must be unaware of its precious nature..."
The third flower, he gave to one of his Nailmasters, Nailmaster Oro. Although he expressed disdain, he secretly placed the flower in a vase after the Little Knight left.
...
Unfortunately, Elderbug was not there; he had left with the evacuating group, as he was also a bug who cherished his life.
The evacuating group took many old friends, and the Little Knight still had many flowers he couldn't give away, but he probably would never be able to.
Simon gently sniffed the pure white flower in his hand, twirling the stem like a small pinwheel, like a lost dream of childhood. There was a beautiful light in the flower, a sacred light, completely contrary to the dark Void.
This beautiful light power was purer than The Radiance, more natural than the Void.
The Little Knight went to the garbage pit in the Royal Waterways, released the Godseeker from a dark gold coffin with a Simple Key, and picked up the Godtuner that had fallen to the ground.
When the Godseeker awoke, the Little Knight gave him one of the flowers he hadn't given away.
"An offering? Ah, a grub offers an offering to Us. A rare blooming flower, tiny and pure. However, it lacks divinity. And piety. But... what reward does the grub desire? To touch? To touch Our thick and shining shell? Or to admire? To admire Our delicate face beneath the mask? What strange prayer! No. No! The grub is too presumptuous. The gift belongs to Us. It will be kept by Us. Our secrets shall remain hidden."
He muttered, "The Gods. They present many appearances. So what about this flower? A fragment? A Discarded item? Or the refuse of something greater? No, no frequency. If it were to sing... We would not hear it."
Simon murmured, "Can I draw power from it? So bright, yet so incompatible with the Void, perhaps I should understand it from the perspective of the soul?"
Simon lay down and fell into a deep sleep.
In his Dream World, beneath the protective layer of the white Vessel's outer membrane, the once golden Dream Gladiator Arena had vanished, replaced by a vast black platform. A Black Egg stood in the center of the platform.
The collective consciousness was gestating and hatching within the Black Egg.
Waiting only for a chance to break free.
Simon had been waiting; now his sleep was merely sleep. He hoped to awaken in the Dream World. For this, he had absorbed a large number of warrior's lingering dreams from the battlefields in Deepnest, but they were all like rivers flowing into the sea; memories and energy were absorbed by the Black Egg as nourishment, doing nothing but increasing his total soul capacity, without any other change.
--+--
T/N: Although I'm an inexperienced Editor, I do have a Patreon account! Although it seems like I don't have many supporters right now, my webnovel will be released in full every day, and the advanced chapters will be uploaded to Patreon.
It may not be worth it now, but who knows, it might be different in the future. Who knows!
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