The Creators: From Night City

Page 492

Countless pilgrims go bankrupt just to be able to make this pilgrimage.

This action reminded Jiang Bing of his 'past life,' since both final destinations were located in the Himalayas.

For the followers of the Imperial State Religion, this is the resting place of the God Emperor and the center of their faith.

Fanatical followers of the state religion would try to get as close as possible to the golden throne where the emperor resided, but since almost no one could enter the palace, this sacred goal was reduced to several stages for practical purposes.

First and foremost, the most common and core pilgrimage ritual is touching the palace walls.

Pilgrims would flock to the outermost wall of the imperial palace, the one they were allowed to approach, and would press their hands, cheeks, and even their entire bodies against the cold, millennia-old wall to express their reverence for the divine emperor.

The concept of religion, which has existed for thousands of years without interruption, was once again manifested at this moment. As for the possible meaning contained therein, Jiang Bing felt that there was no need to discuss it at this moment.

Secondly, some people choose the most arduous and devout form of asceticism—walking the pilgrimage route in prostration.

In addition, there is eternal prayer and chanting, offerings and sacrifices to choose from. Some pilgrims will recite the national religious texts fervently until they die, while others will give up everything they own, such as a few coins from a distant world, a precious gem, or a family heirloom, to express their piety.

These riches will be taken by the state religion and used for 'the sacred work of mankind'.

However, these fanatical believers did not live well. Most pilgrims would run out of money during the long wait and could only survive on nutritional pastes of unknown composition and recycled water provided by the state religion.

They lived in a huge, tent-filled camp outside the palace walls, in conditions comparable to the lowest levels of the capital, where it was overcrowded, filthy, and rife with disease.

After months or even years of waiting, asceticism, and the torment of illness, dying silently on the pilgrimage route is the fate of most.

Ironically, believers considered dying on their pilgrimage an honor, resulting in corpses lying everywhere at the foot of the palace walls and along the roads leading to the palace.

Jiang Bing had killed people and destroyed countless lives, and had witnessed the systematic death of humans, but he was still not used to the scene in front of him.

Ignorance and being ignorant are not the same thing.

But he remained silent.

The emperor seemed to have made prior arrangements. The imperial guards escorted Jiang Bing to a richly decorated airship, which continued to advance along the palace's layout into the interior.

The city walls were several kilometers high and incredibly thick, and were filled with garrison troops and artillery emplacements.

The surrounding Star Guard legions, Battle Sisters, and Terra Guardians watched with curiosity as the Imperial Guard led Jiang Bing, the visitor, through lines of defense and into the Empire's military and administrative center.

The High Lords Council, the Ministry of Justice headquarters, the Assassin's Court headquarters, the Mechanicus Embassy, ​​and the massive archives—the Imperial Guards silently led Jiang Bing over them, offering no explanations or receptions, simply passing by in silence.

The Imperial State Religion's Supreme Temple, the Primitive Gene Hall, the Hall of Heroes, the Monument—all these buildings flowed past Jiang Bing's feet.

Finally, the group arrived at their destination.

Throne Hall.

The place where emperors suffered.

This is a colossal building, a human wonder of the modern world.

Its size was so large it was suffocating; the enormous archway made Jiang Bing look like an ant in comparison.

Countless sculptures of heroes are etched on the exterior walls of this building; these are merely insignificant embellishments to the work of thousands of artists who have devoted their lives to this project.

A solemn Imperial Knight Titan squad stood on either side of the main gate, while a large contingent of Imperial Guards stood silently watching Jiang Bing, the newcomer.

The Silent Sisters mingled among them; they too were a powerful guardian force at the absolute core of this human empire, and these untouchables were the backbone in dealing with the corruption of Chaos.

They worked in conjunction with the Imperial Guard, forming an invisible "anti-phantom" field to ensure that no warp entity could bypass them and approach the throne.

At the same time, they are also the main force guarding the gates of the damaged net passage.

Under their wary gazes, Jiang Bing calmly walked into the throne room.

The interior of the hall is larger than most people can imagine, with a dome that seems to reach into the clouds, and the interior is large enough to accommodate a small mountain.

It's very busy here.

A deafening roar filled the entire space, and countless flickering candles, seemingly eternally burning torches, and flashing electrical sparks from a large number of complex devices shrouded the entire space in an eerie atmosphere.

The air was filled with a sticky, foul odor, a mixture of ozone and copious amounts of mechanical incense, stirred with burnt flesh and blood—a stench so unpleasant it was nauseating.

But none of this could shake Jiang Bing's resolve.

His gaze was fixed on the center of the hall.

The Golden Throne and the Emperor are undoubtedly the absolute center of this hall, and the core of the human empire.

Under the watchful eyes of thousands of imperial guards, Jiang Bing slowly walked forward, leaning on his ordinary iron cane.

During the Great Rebellion, the Emperor was severely wounded by Horus, the Primarch chosen by the Chaos Gods, and was forced to sit on the Golden Throne to sustain his life. Similarly, the Emperor also sustained the Empire by sitting on the Golden Throne.

His psionic powers kept the Star Torch burning eternally, providing navigational guidance for Imperial ships navigating the Warp and preventing the Empire from falling apart. He also used his psionic powers to seal the broken entrance to the Web of Terror on Terra, preventing it from becoming a second Eye of Fear. He sat on his throne, neither alive nor dead, enduring torment as he maintained the lingering existence of the human Empire for ten thousand years.

At the heart of all this lies the golden throne beneath him.

The Golden Throne is not actually a simple throne; it is essentially a massive, complex, and incomprehensible psionic device, a mysterious 'phasic amplifier'.

Its origin is unknown. Since the discovery of this device by human explorers and technical archaeologists in the Golden Age, humans have been studying it until the Emperor implemented the Network Project and transformed it into a core control hub.

At this point, the Golden Throne had been transformed from a "psychic amplifier" into a "Netway Gate Controller".

After Horus's rebellion, the dying emperor was placed on the throne, and the Golden Throne was given the functions of a life support device, a star torch base, and a broken net barrier.

By the 41st millennium, the Golden Throne resembled a colossal altar, with countless intricately carved metal frames connecting it to the ceiling and walls of the hall, behind which operated even larger mechanical components.

Countless cables, conduits, energy lines, and panels shimmering with runes are densely connected to the throne, appearing rough and wild. This is the work of the Mechanicus, a helpless act of the ignorant, a shoddy sequel made to maintain the life of the emperor.

These technological creations, like a deformed monster, surround the throne—massive, bloated, and eye-catching.

However, Jiang Bing paid no attention to him whatsoever, but instead focused his gaze on the person sitting on the golden throne.

Without a doubt, he is the core of everything.

Emperor!

Chapter 999 Necessary Negotiations

The emperor is mostly dead, but not completely dead.

Unlike the wise and mighty figures depicted in the sculptures and portraits prevalent in the empire, the man on the throne was a decaying, withered corpse, a living corpse that had not yet breathed its last, a completely mummified remains.

He was emaciated and looked as miserable as a dying old dog.

A putrid stench emanated from his massive body, and countless cables penetrated his flesh, connecting to the golden throne beneath him.

He hung his head, his eyes were closed, he wasn't breathing, and he didn't move in any way, just like a vegetable. Naturally, he couldn't get up to welcome Jiang Bing, or even have any physical interaction with him.

The supreme commander of the Imperial Guard, "Shadow Master" Trajan Varoš, stood like a golden statue beside the throne, watching Jiang Bing warily and silently monitoring everything.

Behind him was the High Priest of the Mechanicus, responsible for maintaining the Golden Throne. To ensure the operation of this core imperial system, at least one High Priest and tens of thousands of Mechanic Priests were always present in the Throne Chamber.

At the same time, they monitor the throne's life support system and psionic output from a technical perspective to ensure that the emperor's physical body is indestructible and the starlight is extinguished. They also provide real-time "data" on the throne's status to ensure that the audience time does not exceed the limit and does not consume too much psionic energy, thereby endangering the stability of the starlight.

According to custom, there should also be an imperial chancellor present, who "represents" the emperor's will on political and administrative levels.

However, due to the special nature of this meeting, the prime minister did not participate.

Finally, Trajan Varoš spoke, “Before the Lord of Mankind, one must…”

"Quiet!" Jiang Bing said softly.

Dozens of honorary guards instinctively drew their weapons and issued a stern warning.

"I don't want to waste any more time on this nonsense with you, just like I don't know about the complicated detection equipment and loaded weapons behind the wall." Jiang Bing continued walking forward unhurriedly until he reached the long flight of stairs.

"I'm here to collect my debt, not to play these tricks on you."

His outrageous words prompted more Imperial Guards to take up arms, and even the security equipment displayed on both sides of the hall was activated, pointing its terrifying cannons at Jiang Bing.

Having been schemed against by Huang Pizi both openly and secretly so many times, it's time for Jiang Bing's turn.

He's about to start showing off his muscles.

The eyes of the audience began to fill with golden light, and all the energy monitoring instruments between the thrones began to spike rapidly, reaching their peak in just a few breaths.

Endless light surged from his body, shining as brightly as the sun. The originally tiny audience member grew larger and larger in the wind, transforming into a giant of light, several meters tall, amidst a flurry of red alarms, until he was level with the emperor on the high platform.

The great sage "Father of Steel" Zagst Kahn was astonished to discover that the psionic readings of the Star Torch were being overtaken and surpassed by another inexplicable force.

At the same time, all the Imperial Navigators who had immersed their consciousness in the warp discovered that another star torch had suddenly appeared on the sacred star torch, and the raging flames even obscured the light of the original star torch.

A dazzling longsword emerged from nothingness, its raging flames causing the space to distort and collapse, and also causing the vast array of instruments in the throne room to malfunction.

The Silent Sisters rushed over and surrounded Jiang Bing, using their bodies to create an anti-psychic force field. Several of the Empire's most elite special knights, Titans, also poured in from outside the door.

Even now, none of the guards have chosen to open fire.

"If you still want your precious Imperial Guards, you'd better have them put away their weapons and end this tedious test," a grand voice echoed in the empty hall.

Under the watchful eyes of thousands of Imperial Guards, the 'Dictionary' was driven into the ground by the 'Craftsman,' and a spatial rift quietly appeared at the point of impact, swallowing up half of the world-burning weapon.

The exit of the spatial rift was right in front of the Golden Throne.

And so, the weapon that seemed to burn away one's soul just by looking at it was brazenly placed before the golden throne, right next to the emperor who looked like a dried corpse, its golden flames illuminating him completely.

Transactions without the protection of propriety, morality, and sound rules must be conducted in this way, and can only be conducted in this way.

Mutual deterrence, mutual fear, and mutual need are the norm for cooperation.

Finally, a massive amount of golden psionic energy erupted from the Golden Throne.

The light of the starlight suddenly blazed in the subspace, and a great consciousness pressed down from the void.

The Emperor has appeared!

The pure, surging golden spiritual energy pierced through the curtain, even temporarily ignoring the resistance of the material world, and flowed into the present dimension.

Trajan Varoš frowned in pain, even though receiving the Emperor's orders would give him a splitting headache, but he still obeyed his lord's command and immediately ordered everyone to put away their weapons.

The Imperial Guards and the Sisters of Silence, having completed their formation, withdrew completely in the blink of an eye, returning to their rightful places.

The emperor was unable to speak or move, but fortunately, he possessed psychic powers that allowed him to communicate with his targets on a conscious level.

However, very few beings can withstand the pressure brought by the Emperor's chaotic and vast consciousness; even the Primarchs probably could not bear it.

After all, no matter how much the emperor denied it, the permeation of faith over thousands of years had gradually led him to godhood. Facing his will was no different in nature from facing the four evil gods of the warp.

Fortunately, Jiang Bing is definitely a good match.

Subspace.

The star torch burned brightly, and the dissipated spiritual energy extended an invitation to Jiang Bing to meet, but Jiang Bing refused.

Compared to the Emperor's lair in the subspace, a place overflowing with cold hatred and revenge, Jiang Bing preferred to hold the next round of negotiations in a more scenic location.

So, without hesitation, he rejected the psionic energy that was spreading from the other party and sent 'Honey's' invitation back.

The reason for choosing 'Rumi' is very simple: it's his home turf, and it's also a place with enough secrecy.

Faced with Jiang Bing's unfamiliar invitation, the Emperor's vast spiritual energy did not hesitate for a moment, and even eagerly clung to him.

Sweet dreams are like honey.

This dream world, which originated from Ya Nan, has been filled in and improved by Jiang Bing several times, and has become more and more like a new world.

It is breaking free from the confines of dreams, gradually transforming the illusory into the real.

However, it remains a purely spiritual world today.

Fortunately, today's visitor is also just a spirit.

Today, the residents living in 'Honeyland' suddenly noticed a golden shooting star streaking across the clear sky and quickly falling into the boundless grassland outside the city.

The residents quickly put the matter out of their minds and continued with their lives, completely unaware that a 'god' had visited the world.

Chapter 1000 Friend, Can I Borrow a Light?

The reeds swayed in the breeze. Although there was no sun, the temperature was just right, neither too hot nor too cold.

The emperor walked barefoot across the plains, the sounds of children laughing and playing filling the air.

Those were the children of Old Yanan. They had been gradually moved to 'Rumi', since that rainy and rugged place couldn't nurture any outstanding talents.

A gentle breeze blew through his loose linen robes, propelling him toward his intended destination. But the emperor slowed his pace, gazing at the dozen or so children just across the river, and turning to look at the medieval-style town in the distance.

He heard laughter and sweetness, genuine joy, and these precious things he hadn't experienced in a long time caused him to pause slightly.

But in the end, the visitor continued his trek toward the summit.

Although it's called a mountain, it's not actually very high; it's more like a mound at best. Its only notable feature is that it can barely be considered the highest point in the vicinity.

As soon as the emperor reached the mountaintop, a gust of wind brought with it a pungent wisp of smoke and a rich, salty aroma.