Chapter 349: Secrets

“Can I trust you?”

It had been a long time since Wu Qingsong last visited the small, eternally sealed chamber at the back of the Xuanyuan Church. A place where sunlight never reached and whose doors were never opened.

Dust covered everything, and the air was bone-chillingly cold. Judging by the marks on the floor, the lich Boulder had barely moved from where it sat.

For a moment, Wu Qingsong even wondered if it had exhausted its energy and lost consciousness.

But in the darkness, the ashen flames burning in its eye sockets told him otherwise. It was still “alive.”

“Does that question even have any meaning?” Boulder responded after a long silence.

Wu Qingsong chuckled bitterly.

Indeed.

No one would ever answer, “You can’t trust me.” Or, “I’m not trustworthy.”

In a way, asking that question already implied doubt, telling the other party outright: “I don’t fully trust you.”

It wasn’t a question he would ever ask Ling.

But Red Moon?

Yes. He might very well ask her the same thing.

“Would an undead betray its summoner?” But Wu Qingsong pressed on.

“That depends on whether the person they face is stronger than their summoner.”

“So, you’re saying that if you meet someone more powerful than me, you’ll betray me?”

“That’s why, if you have any secrets you don’t want others to know, you should never tell me,” Boulder said flatly. “My current situation isn’t ideal, but it’s not terrible either. I’d rather not be destroyed so soon.”

Wu Qingsong let out a small sigh before asking, “Any progress on the task I gave you?”

“None yet. There are too many factors beyond my control,” Boulder explained. “And too many things I don’t yet understand.”

Wu Qingsong’s irritation flared.

“Then what have you been doing all this time?”

“Thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Would you like to hear my complete analysis?”

“Forget it.”

Wu Qingsong had zero interest in whatever rambling monologue Boulder was about to give. That wasn’t why he came here.

“I need you to organize shamanic knowledge into a form that can be easily understood and taught to the priests.”

The priests couldn’t awaken supernatural abilities like the beastkin girls, and it was starting to shake their faith. Wu Qingsong wanted to give them some kind of power that set them apart from ordinary believers—even if it was just a small spell.

As long as it helped solidify their conviction, made them believe their efforts were heard and answered, it would greatly improve the efficiency of the Xuanyuan Church’s missionary work.

“Shamanic traditions have never been passed down that way,” Boulder replied.

Wu Qingsong’s patience snapped.

Just as he was about to explode, Boulder continued, “I can try. But I can’t guarantee success.”

The delayed response made Wu Qingsong’s temper flare even more. But he exhaled sharply, swallowed his anger, and sat down directly across from Boulder, ignoring the dust on the floor.

He had hoped that sitting closer would apply pressure or intimidate the lich. But it completely ignored him, clearly lost in its own world.

“I don’t actually belong to this world.”

At last, Wu Qingsong spoke again.

That had been one of the reasons he came here today. The possibility that he couldn’t have children left a heavy, suffocating weight in his chest—and he needed to tell someone.

But he didn’t know who to confide in.

“I come from a completely different place called Earth. I tell people I’m a half-elf, but that’s a lie. I’m not from Karazhan, nor am I an escaped experiment from some rogue mage. Karazhan doesn’t even exist in this world, it was just a dungeon from a game I used to play.”

He rambled on.

His thoughts were disorganized and illogical, spilling out without filter. He didn’t care if Boulder could understand, or even if it was really listening.

Then, finally, the lich spoke again, “So Xuanyuan never actually existed in this world?”

“Xuanyuan was a legend from my world,” Wu Qingsong admitted. “No… several legends. I took bits and pieces from them, mixed in religious elements from my world, combined them with what I found in the Book of the Dead and stitched everything together. Then Morin added his own interpretations, and that’s how we ended up with what it is now.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Boulder said.

“That’s the reality.” Wu Qingsong responded maliciously.

“I’ve recovered many of the memories of this body’s past,” Boulder said. “If Xuanyuan never existed, then where did that warning come from, telling him he had to destroy Xuanyuan? If Xuanyuan never existed, then why did the natural spirits who granted him power fear it so much?”

“Natural spirits?”

“After everything you’ve seen, do you still doubt the existence of gods?” Boulder countered. “If gods don’t exist, then where does all power come from? Why can beastkin awaken their ancestral bloodlines? Shamanic power comes from the natural spirits. To become a shaman, one must earn their recognition and aid. That’s precisely why shamanism cannot be passed down like traditional magic.”

Wu Qingsong shook his head.

“That still doesn’t explain it. If gods exist, why do they allow their followers to suffer? Why do they sit idly while elves rule the world? Where were the beastkin gods when the elves conquered them? Where were the birdfolk gods when their race was annihilated? What about the insectoids? When they were overthrown as the dominant species, where were their gods?”

“I don’t know,” Boulder admitted. “But that doesn’t disprove their existence. There may be multiple gods. Perhaps they don’t act the way we expect. If you dismiss their existence simply because you don’t understand them, that would be foolish. It’s like you telling me that your world is a massive sphere. If I refuse to believe it just because I don’t understand, wouldn’t that also be foolish?”

Wu Qingsong fell silent for a long time.

Then he muttered, “To be honest, I’m no longer sure if anything I know is real.”

“You need time to think.”

“Like you? No thanks.” Wu Qingsong stood up.

Just as he was about to leave, Boulder spoke again, “I didn’t understand most of what you said. But you’ve given me an interesting new perspective. Come back in a month. I might have something useful for you then. For now, give me peace and solitude.”

Wu Qingsong didn’t hold much hope, but after years of bottling everything inside, he finally let it all out—and that, at least, made him feel better.

As he turned to leave, he asked one last question:

“Do you know why I can’t have children? I’m sure I’m perfectly healthy. Is it really a genetic issue?”

“I don’t know what ‘genetic’ means.” Boulder replied. “Come back in a month. Let’s see what we can figure out then.”