120: Chapter 120's conversation with the guide made a lot of sense.

Xie Feng sat in front of that Gate of the Silver Key with his legs crossed.

Tawil at-Umr sat right across from him, and the silvery-white light unfolded endlessly from behind it, yet it wasn't dazzling at all.

Xie Feng looked at that veil-covered face and fell silent for a good while.

"So... is this how you usually chat?" Xie Feng finally spoke.

There was a subtle tone in his voice that seemed to say, "I've already experienced too many bizarre things, so now I'm unexpectedly calm."

"Is that not allowed?" Tawil tilted its head, its tone resembling a long-acquainted friend chatting casually about everyday life, "Didn't you read the original work?"

"I read the original work, and you guys don't chat like this in it." Xie Feng shifted his position, trying to make his tone sound less like he was complaining to a boss about company regulations,

"You guys are supposed to be like, you know? Whispers incomprehensible to Mortals, driving anyone mad just upon hearing them, transmitting information across multiple dimensions that the human brain simply cannot bear. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I understand. But what does that have to do with us chatting like this right now?" Tawil placed its hands on its knees, its posture almost identical to Xie Feng's, resembling two neighbors squatting at the alley entrance playing chess.

"No, why would you chat like this?" Xie Feng leaned forward slightly, the tripartite pupils beneath the veil contracting slightly.

Tawil chuckled.

"If there is a god who is omniscient and omnipotent, shouldn't he also understand jokes and have a sense of humor?"

"This..."

"If he cannot communicate with you without harming you, only crudely instilling knowledge that causes your death, incapable of delicate operations, can he still be considered omniscient and omnipotent?"

"Ah, well..."

"If I do not understand your language, can I still be considered omniscient and omnipotent?"

Xie Feng opened his mouth.

Rolling these words over twice in his mind, he could find no logical loopholes to refute them.

Omniscience and omnipotence—the scope contained within these four words should indeed include "being able to speak in a way the other party can understand."

"Fine, you are right."

Xie Feng was convinced.

"Then I'll ask the next question. The cthulhu mythos, I mean, the cthulhu mythos of our world—is it real or fake? Did you gods exist first, or did those novels come first?"

"We have existed all along.

The authors of your world merely perceived a part of it accidentally, incompletely, and through certain rifts.

He thought he was creating, but in reality, someone was simply telling him a story."

Tawil's voice was like soft gauze.

"Some people are sensitive and can receive more, like Lovecraft. Some people are dull and can only dream of a few fragments.

The cthulhu mythos of your world is an incomplete, distorted record mixed with the recorder's own fears, but it is still a record."

Xie Feng became a bit excited; could this count as him pioneering a new chapter of the cthulhu mythos?

Then he quickly came to his senses; he needed to ask something useful.

"Then I'll ask one last question. Why did you make me undergo Transmigration? Dragging me away from my hometown, I originally thought it was because I happened to die right at your doorstep while playing tabletop RPGs, but now I feel things aren't that simple."

Tawil tilted its head, its gaze from beneath the veil falling onto Xie Feng's face.

That gaze was extremely light and gentle, resembling someone watching a bird that had flown into the window by itself, flapped around for a long time, and finally quieted down.

"I wasn't the one who dragged you over, at least not this time."

"Wait a minute!! What do you mean not this time??"

"From a different perspective, I can see you across different times simultaneously; the current you is a paused slice on a single timeline."

"OK, understood."

Xie Feng's mouth remained open.

It wasn't Yog-Sothoth who made him undergo Transmigration. Then who was it? Nyarlathotep? Or some entity whose name he hadn't even touched yet? Countless possibilities flashed through his mind instantly.

"Then I—" Before he could finish, Tawil had already continued speaking.

"Xie Feng, I want you to do me a favor."

Xie Feng sprang directly off the ground; if not for the concept of injury being absent in this space, this sudden movement by Xie Feng would have dislocated his jaw.

Help whom?

Help you?

The Primordial Immortals, the calm Incarnation of Yog-Sothoth, the gatekeeper of the Gate of the Silver Key?

Help you?

I doubt sacrificing my life would even be enough to serve as a greeting gift for you, and you're asking me for help?

Xie Feng's throat moved, and his voice dropped more than half a beat lower than usual.

"Am I worthy?"

Tawil looked at him, its gaze gentle and earnest.

"Consider it as you repaying me."

Tawil extended that extremely slender and long silvery-white finger, gently tapping in the Void Realm before it.

An extremely faint and gentle light curtain slowly unfolded, displaying an image upon it.

That was back before entering the Qingyun Sect, when Xie Feng was standing right in the center of the Martial Arts Arena stage.

At that time, a wave of anger had suddenly surged up in him for no apparent reason.

In the image on that light curtain, there was shockingly a three-legged figure slowly pushing him from behind.

"Damn Nyarlathotep!"

Then Xie Feng realized, hiss... it seemed that back when he was looking at the eerie derivative entity, his eyes had been closed?

How did he glare it to death? (You can look back, his eyes were closed.)

Then he turned around to look at Tawil.

The Guide's veil shook gently and nodded.

"Well, what else is there to say, Brother Yog-Sothoth, speak."

Xie Feng truly felt like Yog-Sothoth's spawn now, even looking somewhat similar, both wearing veils hiding their faces.

Opening his eyes resulted in just two words.

Loyal! Faithful!

"You only need to continue doing what you want to do, and by that time you will have helped me."

"Brother Yog-Sothoth, I really don't like riddlers."

"Then would you like to see what is behind the veil?"

"Brother Yog-Sothoth, I think riddlers are the most charming."

"Go."

As the final sound fell, Xie Feng slowly awakened.

This was the most comfortable night's sleep he had ever had.

Waking up the next day, he only felt refreshed and clear-headed, his entire body's fatigue melting away like butter.

"Yog-Sothoth is still dependable after all, no wonder it's the god strongly promoted by Old Love."

In fact, if we completely follow Lovecraft's novels, then the cthulhu mythos should be called the Yog-Sothoth mythos; Old Love indeed wanted to name his collection of novels that during his lifetime.

Before the Cthulhu family tree from Old Love's joking Letter No. 617 was circulated,

Azathoth and Yog-Sothoth were actually closer to two sides of the same coin.

One is blind and foolish, while the other surveys the world.

The relationship among the Outer Gods trio is not simply a superior-subordinate one, nor do they purely represent terror.

As well-known Outer Gods, they almost all represent the authority of certain concepts.

Yog-Sothoth's knowledge, Shub-Niggurath's life, Nyarlathotep's evil.

If one only treats the cthulhu mythos as horror stories about tentacles and the like, it really underestimates these incomprehensible fellows.