great-warnovel Chapter 210 Where the Moonlight Shines
Chapter 210 Where the Moonlight Shines
Chapter 210 Where the Moonlight Shines
It didn't take them long to find the werewolves' hideout in a secluded crevice beneath the sea cliff.
The foul-smelling cave contained some simple stools and beds, and the ground had been temporarily leveled with a shapeshifting spell. This indicated that their wizarding magic was of very low quality; their shapeshifting was crude, even inferior to that of an average second-year student.
They didn't linger, lest they leave their scent behind. After noting the location, they quietly set off and flew back to Weasel Mountain.
The cold wind was howling, and Maria seemed very depressed.
Perhaps the images of cannibalism were still too shocking for her, but for Hermione, these were nothing. Whether it was the mountains of limbs and remains piled up in Stoneville, the countless heroes devoured by the Profaned King, or the gruesome method of making pot-men in Ponny Village in the Shadowlands, she had seen far too much bloodshed.
"They've already abandoned their humanity; just kill them like monsters," she whispered, trying to comfort them.
"Is living really that important?" Maria said in a low voice.
"What?" Hermione tilted her head.
"Those people, in order to survive, tricked their companions into going out and becoming food for the werewolves—" They used the lives of their fellow human beings to ensure that they could live a better life.
"In a world like this, is living really that important?" Her eyes were hazy, like the dark clouds in the sky.
In such a broken and cruel world, birth signifies the beginning of misfortune: hunger, disease, and slaughter.
The sun and blue sky only exist in adults' stories. Children must learn to survive and hide from a young age, and hardship is the underlying tone of everything.
People were struggling in purgatory, where the air, soil, and water were filled with poison. Fire and war came from time to time, and terrifying monsters were everywhere. Just as the old religions said, God sent down judgment because the people on earth had sinned.
Has the whole world been cast into hell?
"From the moment I was bitten, I was prepared to die," the little wolf girl whispered, hugging Hermione tightly.
"The adults gave me their only three vials of wolfsbane medicine, but I wanted to refuse—? If I died,..."
That way, the precious medicine won't be wasted.
Hermione listened silently to Maria's story, flying steadily as if unaffected.
"What's the point of living?" she sighed, sounding more mature than a 12-year-old.
"Every day I'm struggling to find food, I have endless work to do, and every few days I hear news of people I know dying."
She looked up at the sky, bewildered: "But adults are still very keen on having children. They always say that everything will be alright once the children have grown up."
"But nothing has changed. Everyone still has to work hard and still go out to search for iron and metal."
Dangerous mutant beasts and werewolves can take a life with a single swipe of their claws, even children as young as seven.
He died outside with his mother.
She remembered what happened that day: screaming and running away, and her father walking against the flow of traffic.
"We are already fortunate enough to have the protection of the wizards, and to have safe villages and caves."
The food was barely enough to fill our stomachs, but what was the point of living like this, day after day?
She looked at her hairy hands and wondered, "Why does everyone try so hard to survive? Why did my mother bring me into this world? Why did she let her child face this cruel world?"
If life ended in the previous generation, if people stopped reproducing like rats hiding in burrows, would this world have become desolate decades ago?
"I'm so tired, I'm so tired—" she whispered.
Her mother died young, and she was raised by her father from a young age, watching him lead the Muggles of the village to complete the tasks assigned by the wizards. She herself always did what she could.
Until the werewolves suddenly attacked, her father died heroically, and she herself was also subjected to the werewolves' malicious indulgence.
They returned to the settlement with their wounds.
The wound was horrible; it could only barely heal with silver plaster, but the persistent dull pain felt like a knife hidden under her skin. The slightest movement would send waves of pain crashing over her, reminding her that everything had changed.
From then on, every full moon night was a painful ordeal. After the wolfsbane potion ran out, she locked herself in the deepest part of the cave. With no humans to hurt her and no animals to keep her company, she, now a werewolf, would violently self-harm.
She wanted to end her life more than once, but the fear of death ravaged the little girl's mind. She didn't know what death was, or if it would be more painful than becoming a werewolf. Her biological instincts stopped her.
Death may be the way to end all suffering, but everyone is trying to live, which makes her feel lost.
"What is the point of living like this?"
Hermione didn't answer; she glanced at her and continued flying.
The meaning of life is such a profound question that no one in any world can provide a standard answer.
Perhaps only by becoming a true god, the creator of everything, can this question be answered.
Of course, it's also possible that the Creator himself didn't give life any meaning, and what humanity is forever pursuing is nothing more than an illusory story.
What meaning does it have for the Creator to create his own laws, become the King of Elden, usher in a new era, or preserve the old? What meaning does it have for the Supreme Will?
Why send down a meteor? Why let the Mother of Fingers convey her will?
What good is it for people to live by the law?
Does a supreme will ever contemplate the meaning of life?
Hermione wasn't too concerned; for her, living was about changing the things she didn't like.
This world, just like the borderlands, is broken. Here, there are no faded ones, no simple path to becoming king by following the trail of the golden blessing and cutting down everything. She can only save the misfortunes within her sight, little by little.
Fleur is like this, and so is Maria. Perhaps one day, she will become as powerful as Nia, and will be able to create new laws and bring a different future to this world.
"You have to find the meaning of life yourself," she said calmly.
"And if you can't find your own meaning, then go and seek someone else's; that's where faith comes from." Spiritual leaders fabricate stories, using a false meaning to unite people; that's religion.
"Meaning gives rise to value, and with value, people will strive desperately to pursue it."
"This is a narrative, and a narrative serves humanity itself." She stroked the girl's head.
Maria seemed to suddenly understand; she raised her head against the wind, her ears standing straight up.
"So what does this mean?"
Hermione looked at her and chuckled, "Where my moonlight shines, there shall be no tragedy."
In that instant, Maria seemed to have truly seen a god.