Ch.353The Beginning of Extinction. City of Truth (1)

January 43, 1204.

At last, the Iron Walker Party arrived in Truth City along with 200,000 soldiers aboard the Sky Warden.

The million-ton airship obscured the sky, yet the ground remained bright, and the citizens knew this was the sun’s blessing.

That faintly glowing steel hull heralded the coming of the sun and symbolized that the countdown to the founding of the Empire had essentially begun.

Having now traversed half of the eighth continent, the remaining five continents would eventually kneel under the radiance of the sun.

“Truth City… truly a name that shows no hesitation.”

While I understood it was a historically significant place, it was indeed a rather direct name, as if they had changed Parsifal City to “Homeland of the Sun City.”

“Well, I heard it had a different name originally, but it seems to have been forgotten by now. After all, famous places are basically tourist attractions, so such names actually help with promotion.”

“Similar to how dwarf cities typically have words like ‘hammer’ or ‘forge’ attached to them. They just add those without anyone telling them to.”

When Simon spoke, Berkman chimed in.

Come to think of it, the dwarf cities I’d seen on maps did indeed often include names of tools necessary for a ‘blacksmith’s’ work, just as Berkman said. Of course, the dwarf cities I’d seen so far were at most in the Crucis Mountains, so I shouldn’t hastily generalize.

“By the way, didn’t our god say that people should know their roots? Those people seem to have lost their origins as well…”

At Hawkman’s words, Viktor smirked.

Viktor also privately thought the name Truth lacked originality.

Of course, he wouldn’t say such things in front of them. That would be a foolish remark.

“My lord. The welcoming party from Truth City has been spotted.”

“Land the ship. Give the honor guard preparation orders.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Below the bridge, a line of people stood motionless, holding flower baskets.

On either side were armed soldiers standing solemnly with what appeared to be long spears or halberds, and in the distance, hundreds of thousands of people had gathered in swarms to see the sun.

-Honor guard, prepare. The Sun will walk among us.-

-Landing procedure initiated. Weather conditions favorable.-

Shwoooosh…

The sound of hydrogen escaping from the gas bags could be heard as the massive body slowly descended.

The giant landing gear extended, and the gradual touchdown on the uneven ground created an overwhelming spectacle like a painting come to life.

Then, as the hatch slowly opened, the Sun and Moon, the Sages and Craftsmen, and finally thousands of honor guards raising the sun’s banners descended into the world of mortals.

*

“It is an honor to behold the Sun.”

The representative of the welcoming party bowed respectfully.

Viktor stared at him for a moment, then slightly nodded, and a nearby honor guard tapped his spear shaft to signal that the representative could straighten up.

“What is your name?”

“Vladimir Zelensky. I have been given the honor, beyond my station, to lead this welcoming party.”

“I see. I’ve heard this is where the Age of the Sun was proven to have ended. Lead me to where the Perishing began.”

When Viktor said this, Vladimir’s expression began to change in an “interesting way” (by Viktor’s standards).

Perhaps he hadn’t expected the Sun to speak so calmly about the end of the Sun’s era. After swallowing hard at the calm request to be guided to where the Perish Calendar began, he spoke:

“Of course, Your Majesty. However, you must be thirsty after traveling through the distant skies. It’s nothing special, but please wet your throat.”

Saying this, he received a cup from a nearby attendant and respectfully offered it to him.

Though it appeared to be milk, it was actually yogurt made from fermented animal milk, lightly salted to mask its bland taste.

And this information, the Sun could discern just by looking at it. At the same time, he understood the intention behind offering this yogurt.

“Then, I shall accept with gratitude.”

Viktor took the cup of yogurt, drank half in one go, and gave the remainder to his wife.

As Raisha emptied the cup with audible gulps and handed the empty vessel back to the attendant, Vladimir’s expression brightened again. He felt relieved that since the guests had eaten food offered by the host, they would not cause harm as visitors.

“Now, guide me.”

“As you wish, O Sun.”

At Zelensky’s gesture, the welcoming party split into two like candy breaking apart, and through that gap, the Sun and Moon followed the representative.

The Sun’s massive 220cm frame easily kept pace with the representative, forcing Vladimir to walk at almost a running pace, but noticing this, the Sun bestowed a small amount of power upon him so he wouldn’t tire.

After walking for about 20 minutes, they arrived at a very old-fashioned chair and table emanating magical power.

“This is the place. Where the Perish Calendar was proclaimed.”

“I see.”

Viktor reached out and touched the table with his hand. Then he closed his eyes and recalled the last day of the Sun under the sun.

*

Imperial Year 400,108. May 22nd.

Those gathered at this place were all heroes who had reversed their fates, great lords commanding vast populations, and great sages whose accumulated knowledge could shake continents when a single secret was unraveled.

They had gathered for one reason alone: to determine the name of the new calendar system that would replace the now-perished Empire of the Sun.

“How about the Restoration Calendar (A.R. AFTER RESTORATION)? To signify that humanity has begun to recover its true nature after escaping the sun’s oppression.”

First to speak was a fate-reversing hero bearing the seal of Karyl.

Everyone looked at him, then cast their eyes down under the table, and shook their heads.

“The intention isn’t bad, but a calendar system is for the world and its people. Humanity’s true nature isn’t particularly useful for counting the world’s years.”

“Then what name would you propose, Great Sage?”

When the hero spoke with disdain, all eyes turned to focus.

The sage stroked his beard for a moment, then raised a finger and spoke the name of the calendar system he had in mind.

“I think the Rebellion Calendar (A.R. AFTER REBELLION) would be appropriate… After all, we fought against the Empire.”

“That’s not bad either, but do you think the Empire’s legacy will still remain in 1,000 or 10,000 years? If future generations don’t know what the rebellion was against, they’ll eventually have to change the calendar system again.”

“How about the Ascension Calendar (A.A. AFTER ASCENSION)? Using the day the Four Great Gods ascended as the standard.”

“Do you want to turn today back 50,000 years? Again, the concept is fine, but the numbers are too large and there’s too much room for confusion, so it’s rejected.”

Establishing a new calendar system was extremely difficult.

Despite the end of the Sun’s 400,000-year reign, humanity had exhausted even the imagination needed to create a new calendar system.

“What about the Liberation Calendar (A.L. AFTER LIBERATION)? We’ve been liberated from the Empire and from the Sun, so I think it’s most appropriate.”

“If we hadn’t accepted the rule of the Four, that might have been adopted.”

“…”

The discussion stagnated. Everyone had their own logic, but no conclusion satisfactory to all could be reached.

“Damn it. Do we all need to perish before we can establish a new calendar? Any other opinions?”

“…Perhaps perishing is the answer.”

“…What did you say?”

“The Empire, the Sun, all have perished. All that remains is the Sun’s residual heat, faint light, and the crumbling ruins of the Empire. Everything has died and will be forgotten.”

“…”

“The Perish Calendar (A.P. AFTER PERISH)… how about it? After all, everything has died. I think it’s quite fitting. And as long as humanity continues to die, the perishing will never end.”

When the Great Sage spoke thus, people unanimously nodded.

Miserable as it was, this was the reality 1,200 years ago.

In the face of the Sun’s Empire—neither restored nor rebuilt but pathetically dead—and the Four who reigned over its corpse, people had no choice but to accept death itself as their calendar system.

Thus, by unanimous consent, the calendar of the end was created, and the Sun showed no more memories of those who had rejected his radiance.

“The Age of Perishing…”

Viktor murmured softly with his eyes barely open.

“Soon, even the Perishing itself will perish.”