Under the crimson sky, two frenzied warriors, one with a greatsword and the other with a wicked mace, clashed, spun, and parried.
Thornheart stumbled under the heavy blows, unable to withstand them. After Simon unleashed his Avatar, his strength was truly unmatched, like that of a giant.
Simon gazed intently into Thornheart's eyes; his pupils were contracted to pinpricks, making it hard to imagine his current vision. His eyes were bloodshot, a premonition of madness.
Sure enough, after the thorn fruit in his chest let out a muffled thumping sound like a drum, a fierce wind suddenly erupted from Thornheart's body. He wielded his mace in the wind, creating a cruel thorn vortex, its momentum like a roaring tsunami. Simon dared not meet it head-on, retreating repeatedly and leaping back ten steps.
Standing far away, the thorn vortex moved rapidly towards him. Simon didn't hesitate, taking a shallow breath.
The next second, "Winter, Gale, Ice!"
His self-created Thu'um—Bitter Frostfall.
In an instant, a massive torrent of frosty air erupted, turning the ground along its path into an icy blue. Thornheart's spinning vortex continuously shattered the ice chunks and blades within the breath.
However, the low temperature and water vapor were pervasive. Frost and snow gradually adhered to the warrior's body. Soon, his speed slowed, he could no longer spin, and he froze into a cross-shaped block of ice, falling to the ground.
Thornheart was not dead. Even though Simon's Thu'um could shatter steel, he was still alive. Through the ice, one could even see his skin gradually reddening and his heart beating violently.
Simon quickly advanced, grabbed his leg, swung him around twice, and threw him into the crimson light pillar.
Thornheart quickly transformed into a blood-shadow, breaking through the ice, and flew into the pillar of merit.
Simon had already accumulated four kills: an Orc, a High Elf, a Sneaker, and a Breton. The High Elf had killed at least one, and Thornheart had a Khajiit's head and an Imperial's head hanging from his waist. Previously, someone was seen running into a light pillar and turning into a snake; that also counted as one.
Now, only one enemy remained on the field.
Simon sat calmly beside the red light pillar, waiting. This was the area with the deepest shadows. The ends of the four wilds were already completely enveloped by light, and scattered light pillars were distributed everywhere.
After about two hours, Simon watched the transparent light pillars drawing closer and closer, his mood growing heavy.
Death was approaching, yet the remaining opponent had not appeared.
Simon was trapped between two light pillars, and soon, there would be no room even to stand.
Tilting his head, he looked down and saw the transparent light shining on his toes, giving him a tingling sensation like a hot spring—a terrifying déjà vu of his flesh melting.
Simon sighed, about to retreat into his pure land, when suddenly, the red light pillar behind him dissipated.
He quickly backed away, then looked up again. The clouds had vanished, and a gigantic eye stared directly at him.
Boethiah's whisper echoed, "A truly satisfying battle, a Master of the Voice, a rare find. Mortal, you have earned my approval! Now, state your wish."
Simon pondered for a moment and asked, "I wish to know an answer."
"You wish to gain knowledge from me? That, I'm afraid, is not possible. I am not Mora, nor do I pursue hidden knowledge."
Upon hearing this reply, Simon couldn't help but feel suspicious. He had originally thought this blood competition was the fated opportunity Ding Ya spoke of, but now it seemed the situation was not so. To confirm this, he recounted the Revelation, and Boethiah, as expected, was unconcerned, merely telling him to choose another wish.
After a moment of frustration, there was a wave of relief. Simon had never truly prepared for his mother's departure. He feared Gaelina would be trapped in the suffering of samsara, and he also feared he had not fulfilled his filial duties. It's always difficult to have everything in this world, and now Gaelina was a lonely spirit, a ghost in the world. Simon knew that every day he delayed, his mother would suffer more.
Simon secretly told himself it was time to put an end to all this. Whatever ideas he had, he should try them.
After letting go of his inner turmoil, he suddenly felt a slight ease and said to Boethiah, "I have another question."
"Persistent, aren't you? Very well, ask your question. This is your last chance. If you ask something nonsensical again, you can leave!"
"What is the ultimate answer to this world?"
Boethiah fell silent, the eye in the sky slowly closed, and Snake Mountain plunged into a deep darkness.
In that shadow, Simon could hear his own heartbeat—very fast, faster than he had ever anticipated.
"Ultimate... mortals cannot know, gods cannot know. One can only seek that path... a slight misstep and one will be absorbed into it. The world is man, and man is the world."
Simon frowned. "The world is man, and man is the world"—that sentence held too many implications.
At this moment, the pillar of merit slowly sank into the ground, and an abyss appeared on the earth.
"You should go." Boethiah's voice was lower than ever, like something slowly submerging into water, losing all sound.
Simon walked to the edge of the abyss and saw the snake wall deep within.
He leaped down.
...
At Boethiah's open-air altar, a crimson Oblivion Gate appeared, and Simon jumped out of it.
This place had been thoroughly slaughtered by him not long ago. Now, the mountain wind was still, creating a rather vast and distant atmosphere. Coupled with the wild and ancient Daedric Prince statue, and the undulating distant mountains and fields, the beautiful natural scenery here was truly like a fairyland compared to Snake Mountain.
Simon once again used his Troll transformation. Without the Daedric Prince's suppression, it was indeed successful. After getting used to his large form, his human form felt quite inconvenient.
At this moment, a stag-headed wolf slowly walked up the altar steps. Simon knew it was Hircine. After killing the stag-headed wolf with his sword, a phantom spirit emerged from it.
"Magnificent! My kin, your slaughter deserves reward. State your wish!"
Simon bowed slightly to Hircine and recounted Mara's Revelation. Hircine, without hesitation, directly told him to seek the Daughter of Coldharbour. Upon receiving this precise information, Simon confirmed his own suspicions.
Hircine then asked if he wanted anything else; He was more generous than Boethiah.
Simon requested knowledge of Necromancy. Hircine regretfully said that He was not skilled in that field but gave Simon some ancient Necromancer spellbooks from His collection.
After distributing the rewards, Hircine encouraged Simon with a few words, telling him not to forget the wildness in his heart, to kill freely, and to expand the Troll bloodline in passing.
Simon merely listened, not promising anything. A minute later, the content of Hircine's words began to repeat. He realized it was six minutes later, smacked His lips, still not satisfied, and slowly dissipated into the air.
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