Xyrin Empire-Chapter 1376: Memorial Place

The place known as the Holy Spirit Tower is very strange, and I temporarily don’t know what it’s used for. This tower is astonishingly large, and from the small platform on the upper part of the tower wall, looking down, the bottom appears as deep and endless as an Abyss. We entered the tower through a side door located in a corridor near the temple’s long hall, which clearly doesn’t conform to the architectural structure of the Obsidian Palace, so this tower should be some kind of product of distorted space. This is not strange; the phenomenon of distorted space is commonly seen in the architecture of the Divine Race. They have extraordinary talents, born with the ability to twist spatial phenomena and mathematical logic at will, which directly leads to their construction style being full of whimsy. They might halfway through decorating a dining room suddenly think there should be a library next door, then simply dig a hole in the wall and shove in a library bigger than Buckingham Palace. They could finish a bedroom and suddenly remember they need to put an ecological park in the back room, so they’ll dig a hole behind the wardrobe and shove in a Frozen Continent, even naming it the Nayaya Kingdom—this is how these whimsical Divine Race often build houses.

Oh, let’s not discuss the Divine Race’s house-building habits. I’m just curious about the use of this Holy Spirit Tower; inserting a tower taller than a palace into the house is really strange, and this tower also has an exit on top. From there, you can even reach an outer space with a Red Moon, and it’s said that the moon is one-third the size of Earth’s—do you know what that means? It means for the sake of hanging a chandelier in the tower at home, Bingdisi’s family created an Otherworld. The sky of the wealthy, glancing up just blinds your eyes. What’s such a high-end place used for?

I followed Bingdisi’s instructions and jumped down from the tower wall, the sound of wind whistling past my ears. The feeling of weightlessness lasted for a long time before I vaguely saw the ground of the tower bottom. There’s no light source that can be called "lamp" visible inside the tower, but as long as you move inside it, the area around you fills with just the right amount of Light, suggesting that God set different optical rules here—a very convenient lighting method.

After falling a considerable distance, I finally reached the bottom of the tower, slowed down, adjusted my center of gravity, and landed perfectly on both feet: Not bad; this time, I’ve finally landed without trouble. I sighed in relief and began to look around. The hall was filled with a light neither too strong nor too weak, making it easy to see the whole view, but the sight here was quite disappointing: it was just an exceptionally spacious round hall, with no interesting or beautiful decorations. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

The ground beneath was made of solid deep Black Crystal, with a thin layer of transparent crystal on the surface. Between these two layers of crystals, silver-white Light Flow floats, with intricate structure and regularity, intertwining into a massive Rune Array covering the entire hall. The Rune Array appears circular due to the shape of the hall, and the focus of the "Array" should be at the center—a silver-white ring, about two or three meters in radius, empty inside.

Around the hall, there is a circle of Obsidian Sculptures with unseen faces. These sculptures are either clad in heavy Armor, draped in robes, or dressed in hunting clothes. Regardless of gender, they all hold weapons and stand solemnly, but what they share is a blurred face, unlike the Divine Statues I’ve seen in other parts of the temple. This circle of sculptures might number in the hundreds, standing silently as guardians around the hall, gazing at the silver-white ring in the center.

I licked my lips; this eerie Holy Spirit Tower is obviously not a place to take a walk after dinner, yet Bingdisi directed me here first thing upon arriving, leaving me a bit puzzled. Just as I was about to ask, my thoughts were interrupted by a sound splitting the air from above. Bingdisi’s Soul suddenly awakened from Silence and quickly shouted, "Catch, catch! Quick, catch!"

I didn’t react for a moment: "Catch what?"

Then I realized what it was: a graceful body with flowing long hair fell straight down from the air, plopped flat onto the ground without moving. I saw very clearly that she landed face-first, and her head even bounced a bit on the ground...

"My face..." Bingdisi’s Soul cried out tragically in my mind, "You bastard, why didn’t you catch her!"

While checking the body lying on the ground like a female corpse, I argued with the spirit of that body in my mind, "I didn’t react—I have a slow mind, you know."

While speaking, I carefully turned Bingdisi’s body over, letting her upper body rest in the crook of my arm, already understanding what had happened: I forgot to fix this body in place or give it instructions to wait when jumping down earlier, so shortly after I leaped, she followed. This body lacks control, able to walk and sit but unable to fly, without thinking ability, causing her to land face-first.

Of course, a Divine Race physique is sturdy, so falling from such a height is no problem, only this sudden situation seemed to exceed the information processing capability of this body’s remaining thought ability: she was stunned. Even when I patted her face, there was no response; she just gazed forward with half-open dead fish eyes. I pinched her cheeks, squeezed her nose, pressed her philtrum—useless, as the Divine Race don’t have this acupoint. After fussing for a while, those dead fish eyes suddenly blinked, and she focused her gaze on me: She had restarted.

"Do you think it’s a bit flat?" I anxiously pinched Bingdisi’s nose, exchanging opinions with her Soul.

"...It’s your imagination, this face of mine has high defense."

I chuckled dryly twice, realizing that I’d never come out on top in a verbal spar with Bingdisi in this lifetime. So I helped her up, unable to contain my curiosity any longer: "What exactly is this place?"

"The Holy Spirit Tower, a place to commemorate the dead," Bingdisi said softly, "I come here every time I return."

"Commemorate... are you saying this place is a memorial hall?" I was momentarily stunned, then suddenly remembered that blunder earlier, feeling terribly improper, "Didn’t we just disturb the peace of the dead? That’s a grave sin."

"No matter how grave, it’s because my body was running around and fell," Bingdisi didn’t seem to care, "Besides, don’t worry, this isn’t a place that needs to be so solemn. The Holy Spirit Tower is not a tomb or cemetery, it’s just a place for commemorating. I used to play here often when I was little, I was wilder here than you can imagine."

Though Bingdisi said this, I could still tell she was restraining her naturally boisterous nature. I looked around again, finally understanding the profound solemn atmosphere—this bizarre tower in a twisted space, the separate space outside the tower, all were established to commemorate the deceased, and that red moon in the sky might have special significance too. Thinking this, I couldn’t help but join in the somberness: though Sister Bing emphasized that the Holy Spirit Tower is neither a tomb nor a memorial hall and doesn’t require hushed tones, the atmosphere simply isn’t suitable for noise.

"For the Divine Race, there are actually no cemeteries," Bingdisi’s voice resonated softly and ethereally within me, "or more directly, the Divine Race leaves no bodies after death, nothing is left. You know, it’s difficult to kill the Divine Race; we can resurrect, reincarnate, feign death for a billion years then return to the world. In mortal eyes, a dead god is merely temporarily banished from the current world or simply in a temporary slumber. As long as a soul or body remains, it’s not considered true death for the Divine Race—you Xyrin Apostles are much the same. But we do have cases of complete death, apart from those Life Goddesses who do not die, the vast majority of the Divine Race die on the battlefield. When that day comes, we leave nothing behind, the body sublimates into an energy cloud mist, the soul disintegrates into data dust, and all we bring back from the battlefield are a few used belongings, most soldiers don’t even leave behind these possessions: a battlefield capable of killing a god often destroys everything else too. 80% of those Divine Race fallen on the expedition are brought back only as names in a registry.

Thus, the Divine Race has never built cemeteries or the like, preserving bodies is meaningless for us, nor do we need to deceive ourselves by preparing resting places for ’dead souls’, because we know a truly deceased Divine Race leaves no soul, those leaving souls can always revive. The Holy Spirit Tower is just such an empty commemorative space; we build such isolated spaces to memorialize the names of those fallen in battle, recording their deeds and lives into every inch of this space. Every Divine Race family has a Holy Spirit Tower, commemorating the names of their relatives, old friends, comrades, we can only commemorate their names."

I never heard of this before—of course, until today no one had the necessity to explain the burial customs of the Divine Race to me. I felt as an outsider I probably shouldn’t be in this special place, but as soon as I said this, Bingdisi retorted: "Are you stupid? It’s me who came here to pay respects, I’m stuck with you!"

Me: "...Oh, yes."

I saw Bingdisi fell silent, so I carefully spoke: "Speaking of which, this tower..."

"Ever since my temple and my home’s temple fused, the Holy Spirit Tower also merged," Bingdisi said blandly, "There are my parents’ comrades and subordinates from back then, also the little ones I led before, some friends, some relatives, some old geezers I used to curse... Now they’re really dead, I suppose. Ah, they’re all here, even those little brothers and sisters I commanded in my last battle are all here. You can’t see it, but I can, their names are here, everywhere."

I fell silent, recalling under what circumstances Bingdisi and I met, and her experiences before that.

The Heavenly God army she led encountered a massive Abyss Gate tens of millions of years ago, fighting to near annihilation. When finally realizing she couldn’t thoroughly close this gate, she cast herself as a chain, suppressing the Abyss Gate. Her remaining followers and adherents built a vast sealing system upon the Goddess’s tomb, sacrificing her life to ensure the seal lasts for tens of millions of years. When the Imperial Army inadvertently shattered the seal, only Bingdisi emerged from the dark core: those ’little ones’ she mentioned either died in battle or became seal components, none survived.

This death is complete annihilation of both form and soul, just like every Divine Race warrior who died on the expedition. The Expeditionary Army led by Bingdisi can only leave behind names. Having personally experienced that place, I can confirm that the Imperial Army found no remnants belonging to the Divine Race warriors near the Sealing debris.

The Divine Race who cannot leave behind any trace after death can only be remembered in places like the Holy Spirit Tower, which records their lifetime achievements. Bingdisi came here just to say hello to her former subordinates. Mortals worship the deceased because they believe the dead have spirits watching over them, yet here, we all know the warriors who died on the expedition didn’t leave even the slightest trace, but still, we do it. In the end...

"It’s also a form of self-deception," Bingdisi’s tone sounded rather relaxed. "But everyone does it. And self-deception isn’t necessarily bad... Oh, let me tell you something funny, the first time I went home, I actually saw my name and biography in the Holy Spirit Tower, written by my parents. They wrote so much, it’s almost as long as the complete history of the Divine Realm. They’ve probably been writing there for over a hundred years... I saw my own death certificate while alive. My dad was so awkward afterward..."

"I don’t find it funny at all," I pursed my lips. "I didn’t know you visited the Holy Spirit Tower every time you went home—I didn’t even know your home had such a place."

"Not just you, even Lian Shandora doesn’t know what the Holy Spirit Tower at my home is like, even though she has been here countless times. This place is private family property, not a place to show guests around. You wouldn’t go to someone else’s house and tour their ancestral tomb, would you? We were stuck together this time, so you can secretly enjoy this."

I said nothing, but felt led to tour a family tomb and secretly enjoy it—isn’t that rather mindless? Even if it’s considered a martyr’s memorial, there’s really no reason for me to secretly enjoy!

Ultimately, I said nothing and just stood silently, letting Bingdisi quietly reminisce about her old friends, while stirring my own thoughts: How much do I really know about Bingdisi?

I know she’s carefree, know she’s domineering and willful, know she’s crude and unfiltered, also know she’s knowledgeable and well-experienced, know that she occasionally passionately helps friends with life guidance, and now, I also know she actually has moments of sadness.

Perhaps what I don’t know far exceeds what I do know.

"Alright, alright, greetings are over, came here to wander around, express that I’m still alive, and then we wrap it up," Bingdisi suddenly interrupted my thoughts. "Grab my Golden Body, let’s retreat and sleep, I’m so sleepy."

I uttered an "Oh," reached out to pull Bingdisi’s body, as she followed woodenly, yet seemed completely unsure how to fly. I pondered and negotiated with Bingdisi’s soul, "Um, sorry to bother you..."

Bingdisi was confused, "Why?"

I reached out and carried Bingdisi’s body in a princess-style carry. "I figure you actually don’t mind."

Bingdisi let out a surprised "Yah," and just when I was about to say this female hooligan also has a shy, girlish demeanor, she exclaimed, "Looking at myself from this angle, I’m really beautiful huh! It’s really interesting to carry oneself from this first-person perspective? Damn, the chest is really big..."

If there were a height to embarrassment points, this female hooligan’s embarrassment points must be as high as to be out of sight—perhaps I should not perceive her as a woman.

"Well, I’m taking Bingdisi now, not disturbing your rest." Holding the goddess steadily in my arms, I spoke to the empty Holy Spirit Tower Hall and quickly flew towards the exit above. Bingdisi was dazed for a few seconds, then peculiarly toned, "Who are you talking to—aren’t you aware there’s actually nothing in the Holy Spirit Tower."

I smiled, "I just pretend there is!"

Bingdisi was silent for a few seconds, then burst out into a hearty laugh, "Hahaha... you... you really are... you really are interesting, hahaha..."

The gloom that clouded her seemed to disperse as she laughed heartily. In my mind, Bingdisi’s laughter lingered for a long time, as if she were using all her strength, turning all her emotions into this laughter, even though there was nothing funny about the situation; she laughed to the point she couldn’t speak until we left the Holy Spirit Tower. Her laughter gradually subsided, and she softly said, "Thank you, you are truly a kind person."

Bingdisi’s maid, Mo, quietly stood not far ahead, seemingly having waited there for a long time. Every time Bingdisi returned home, she would go to the Holy Spirit Tower, as it seems to be an old family custom, so Mo timed her wait outside. I set Bingdisi’s body down, gently nudged her shoulder, directing her to the maid, "Go to your own room, see you in the morning."

She slightly turned, her half-opened eyes seemed slightly puzzled, knowing I couldn’t explain to this nearly thoughtless shell, I only nodded slightly to Mo, "Thank you."

"Please don’t worry, it’s my duty," the maid slightly bowed, took Bingdisi’s hand, and hesitantly started, "Actually... I thought you two would share a room..."

"It’s my dad who thinks that," Bingdisi’s soul instantly guessed, "Is there a dad like that!"

The maid smiled placidly, "Alright, should I escort His Majesty the Emperor to the guest room?"

I waved hand, Bingdisi and I simultaneously said, "I know the way!"

Laying on Bingdisi’s family’s guest room big bed, I finally could stretch thoroughly, the radiant glow filtering through the narrow stained glass window, casting a hazy hue on this Divine Race-styled bedroom, making one’s mood follow in relaxation. A lot happened today, now lying down gives me time to clear my cluttered thoughts.

Finally, we exchanged goodnights with Bingdisi and drifted off in a sleepy daze. (To be continued. If you like this work, please visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendations and monthly tickets. Your support is my biggest motivation. Mobile users, please visit m.qidian.com to read.)