Chapter 76: Section 77: Life Must Go On


    “Ah!”


    “Don’t come any closer, don’t come any closer!”


    Zi Di fled in a panic.


    And Zhenjin closely pursued the girl.


    “I’m so hungry, I’m so hungry!” Zhenjin had completely mutated into a Silver Spear Scorpion, overwhelmed by hunger, with his mind filled only with thoughts of feeding.


    Zi Di was finally cornered at the bottom of the cave, tripping over a rock and falling to the ground.


    ...


    Zhenjin pounced fiercely, landing on top of her, his massive claws and sharp scorpion tail launching viciously.


    Puchi.


    Zi Di was dismembered in an instant, blood spraying and staining the cave floor red, as well as Zhenjin’s entire field of vision.


    The next moment, Zhenjin suddenly opened his eyes.


    He saw the pitch-black night sky.


    He gasped for air, the cold air filling his lungs, his pupils gradually dilating back to normal size, his mood slowly settling.


    A nightmare.


    He had a nightmare.


    In this nightmare, he had become a gun scorpion, attacked Zi Di, and treated the girl as food to stave off his hunger.


    Zhenjin quietly sat up.


    He was drenched in a cold sweat.


    Looking around, he found Zi Di sleeping peacefully by his side, with Bai Ya and Lan Zao lying not far away.


    After hearing Cang Xu’s words, Zhenjin had knocked out Lan Zao and placed her securely.


    As for Cang Xu, he was responsible for the second half of the night watch.


    The campfire was still burning quietly, the flames half the size they were before, but still steadily providing warmth.


    The firelight reflected on Zhenjin’s face, giving the young knight’s expression an uncertain light and shadow.


    “Why did I have such a nightmare?”


    “Is it because I have always been worried and afraid of this Demon Crystal in my heart?”


    This was a very normal psychological reaction.


    Imagine a normal person suddenly growing horns, or a tail, or their skin bubbling up with tumors – wouldn’t they be worried and afraid?


    No one is supposed to have a Demon Core, but Zhenjin had grown one.


    And this Demon Core was very mysterious, strange, and powerful, allowing Zhenjin to become a monster, to absorb the bloodline of living beings.


    “I can’t use Fighting energy, and in the face of danger, I can only use it.”


    “Sigh… I should avoid using it if possible in the future.”


    “Who knows what serious consequences there might be?”


    Zhenjin subconsciously touched his chest.


    He feared that if he abused the Demon Core, one day he might turn into a wild beast, a monster, never to regain his human form again.


    Zhenjin felt: this Demon Crystal was already tempting him, enticing him to slaughter the innocents, to sacrifice the guiltless in order to gain even more powerful strength and authority.


    “On the other hand, I’m also afraid of becoming like Lan Zao,” Zhenjin glanced towards the distant Lan Zao.


    To be honest, he could understand Lan Zao.


    And his understanding was very profound.


    Because Zhenjin had once faced the same choices as Lan Zao.


    Hunger could drive a person mad, hunger could turn Zhenjin into a gun scorpion to steal gold mica stone, could make Zi Di think of cooled molten lava as burnt chocolate bread, could make Cang Xu want to eat even a handful of sand. It made them not let go of any edible thing, to believe jumping rat meat, lizard meat was a supreme delicacy.


    Beyond understanding, Zhenjin also felt fear and relief from escaping a close call.


    “If I had chosen to eat Bai Ya as food, wouldn’t Lan Zao’s current state be my fate?”


    “Although Bai Ya is not my biological brother, I would constantly be tormented and questioned by my conscience, morality, and knightly honor.”


    “I would live a life worse than death like Lan Zao!”


    Zhenjin’s mood was very heavy.


    Because he naturally thought, “Will I become someone like this in the future?”


    When he returned to the volcanic cave and shouldered Bai Ya, the knight youth told himself—I have not fallen.


    However, he was very clear: there were many selfish, evil, shameless, and despicable thoughts that had crossed his mind, making it nearly impossible for Zhenjin to face himself afterwards.


    Beyond understanding, fear, and heaviness, Zhenjin felt an emergent pity for Lan Zao.


    “In order to survive, he had become a beast.”


    “He killed his own younger brother.”


    “Afterward, he came to this oasis. Such circumstances are just cruel mockery and taunting by fate.”


    “Lan Zao was regretful, perhaps discovering the oasis a bit earlier, or holding on a little longer, Huang Zao might not have died.”


    “Extreme regret made him unable to believe in Huang Zao’s death, desperately denying the reality of killing his own brother.”


    “Even with normal sight, he firmly believed Huang Zao was still alive, still had hope of being rescued.”


    “He deceived himself, tried his hardest to deceive himself. He was caught in his own fantasy, only in this way could he escape the condemnation of his conscience and the torment of morality.”


    “The oasis is real, but he has fallen into his own mirage,”


    “Yet, in the end, everything is just a fantasy.”


    “Our arrival and attitude burst the bubble of illusion, the merciless reality and truth once again laid before Lan Zao’s eyes.”


    “And this time, he had no way to avoid it, no way to lie to himself.”


    “Just as Cang Xu had said before, those who seek to survive in the desert can be driven to collapse by a mirage. Lan Zao was just like that, and his situation was even worse.”


    To be honest, if Zhenjin hadn’t experienced life and death, he would also have looked down on the current Lan Zao with disdain, disgust, and hatred, and would probably have taken Zi Di’s suggestion.


    But after experiencing so much firsthand, the young knight’s body and mind had undergone tremendous changes.


    “He is our companion. I once said I would do my best to save everyone, so I will help him.” This was Zhenjin’s decision after facing the two radically different suggestions by Cang Xu and Zi Di beside the campfire earlier.


    Then, he got up and brought half a bowl of coconut water and dried meat to Lan Zao.


    Lan Zao didn’t react at all, still staring blankly at Huang Zao’s corpse.


    In the end, Zhenjin could only knock Lan Zao unconscious.


    Why make such a decision, to help Lan Zao?


    Zhenjin himself found it strange at the time.


    But now, he had a bit of an understanding, “Perhaps it’s because of a desire deep within myself. I hope that if one day, I fall into Lan Zao’s predicament, there will also be outsiders to help me.”


    But Zhenjin was very clear that he couldn’t really help Lan Zao.


    Lan Zao’s problem was not external but lay within his heart.


    Zhenjin even began to doubt and ask himself—should someone like Lan Zao be helped?


    Human society has ethics and morals, so the ethics and morals of a Holy Temple Knight must certainly be above the standards of the masses. Lan Zao’s behavior was undoubtedly immoral, unethical.


    “Am I right to save someone like Lan Zao?”


    “Do I save him because I see myself in him?”


    “Am I making excuses for my possible downfall?”


    At this moment, watching the flickering flames, Zhenjin felt himself wavering, shaken.


    He had initially mastered the Demon Crystal in his heart and become very powerful. He had ample food and water, having escaped that crisis.


    But the knight youth felt weak.


    He questioned himself in his heart.


    “What kind of person am I, really?” S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    “I am very afraid of death. Can I continue to uphold the knight’s spirit? Can I shoulder my family’s responsibility?”


    “Am I a selfish person?”


    “If I fell into the predicament Lan Zao had faced before, what would I choose?”


    “If I choose not to eat, then I lose my life and can’t reach the oasis. If I choose to eat, then I live a life worse than death.”


    “Which choice is the right one?”


    Zhenjin bravely faced himself; he didn’t use the Heart Core as an excuse to evade his true self.


    Zhenjin couldn’t answer his own questions.


    With every thought, every time he faced these issues, every inquisition of his soul, the strong self-confidence he once had was lost piece by piece, then lost again.


    Zhenjin was very clear in his heart: when he saved Bai Ya, he told himself he hadn’t fallen. This was really just a subconscious denial. Who doesn’t want to be brave? Who doesn’t want to be virtuous? Who doesn’t want to be upright and without any moral debt?


    “However, Cang Xu’s words indeed make some sense.”


    Zhenjin was really thinking.


    This kind of thinking, forcing himself to face the deepest ugliness and darkness of his humanity, was undoubtedly very painful.


    Having lost confidence in himself, Zhenjin simultaneously fell into deep self-doubt.


    In the middle of the night beside the campfire, the knight youth quietly got up and knelt on the ground.


    He bowed his head, covering the area over his heart with his hand, facing the direction of the Holy Bright Continent, and began to confess.


    “God, Holy Emperor, my great Lord. Under Your gaze, the world is aglow with light, and shadows hastily flee. Now, Your believer, Your knight confesses to You, for I have sunk into the mire of my soul. Please let Your divine light shine upon me, so that my corruption, ugliness, and filthy dirt of shadows retreat. I earnestly beg Your forgiveness for my sins of thought and intention…”


    The long confession came to an end.


    A gentle night breeze brushed past the ears of the young knight.


    Everything was as Zhenjin had expected—God did not respond.


    The youth sighed with regret.


    Zi Di slept soundly.


    Bai Ya lay flat in the grass, while Lan Zao curled up on the ground, lying on his side like a shrimp.


    Both of them had furrowed brows and pained expressions—they were both struggling.


    Time passed, the night gradually faded, the sun rose, casting intense heat.


    Like countless days and nights before, nature continued to operate with its unchanging rules.


    Any sorrow, sadness, pain, confusion, and other such emotions seemed pretentious amidst the vastness of nature.


    The heavens and the earth are vast, but being alive is paramount.


    Before wealth, power, beauty, and honor, there must be food and water.


    No matter how painful, how confused, or how sad, life must go on.