One-Eyed Monster

Kadi’s question didn’t greatly surprise the monsters. This situation left Kadi feeling quite helpless. The question he’d raised was highly pertinent, even insightful. Think about it, if Kuyi Tulan defeated the Black Crow, wouldn’t the secret scroll of Guru Mountain fall into Kuyi Tulan’s hands? By then, wouldn’t Kuyi Tulan become even more powerful? If such favoritism occurred, wouldn’t they be indirectly helping Kuyi Tulan? Kadi couldn’t accept such an outcome.

However, the monsters raised no objections, appearing as if they felt they had Kuyi Tulan completely under control.

This left Kadi deeply puzzled.

Kadi would usually ask questions when confused, but now, he knew no one would answer even if he did. So, he wisely kept his mouth shut, pinning his hopes on Igor to alleviate his current distress.

But when he sought Igor’s help, he noticed a significant problem: Igor himself was in immense distress.

What could possibly be causing Igor so much pain? He had to find out.

”What’s wrong with you?” Kadi asked with concern, never imagining that someone like Igor could also experience such anguish.

”I’m blaming myself!” Igor replied.

”Blaming yourself?” Kadi was bewildered. What was Igor blaming himself for?

”’The Great Mentor once asked my opinion on the secret this mountain guards. I think my answer misled him!” Igor confessed, his inner turmoil evident.

”Why is that?” Kadi asked, baffled, not understanding what Igor meant.

”Because my words led the Great Mentor to abandon this mountain’s secret, plunging the world into chaos,” Igor said, convinced that the Great Mentor had forsaken the secret due to his remarks.

The idea that ’everything should be left for future generations to judge’—thinking about it now, it was utter nonsense. Disaster had struck; did they, the younger generation, truly possess the ability to stop it? The truth was, they lacked the ability to prevent any disaster from occurring, nor could they even grasp the full picture of the entire affair.

”This...” Kadi was stunned by Igor’s words. His own question suddenly seemed insignificant, almost forgotten.

However, Kadi and Igor’s conversation reached the ears of the Guru Mountain monsters. Hearing Igor’s assessment, they all chuckled softly, clearly not taking it too seriously.

”What are you laughing at? What’s so funny? Look at Igor, he’s blaming himself. Can’t you express your own opinions?” Kadi was somewhat dissatisfied with the monsters’ attitude.

To Kadi, their laughter at this moment felt like mockery; they were mocking Igor for his foolishness. Such laughter was truly hurtful.

However, Kadi’s interpretation was just that—his own; it didn’t reflect their true intentions. They laughed because they felt Igor was overthinking things.

At the same time, this laughter also signified a kind of acknowledgment of Igor.

The Great Mentor, true to his title, immediately showed his concern upon seeing Igor’s distress.

”No, Igor, you’re mistaken.”

The Great Mentor’s denial stunned Igor, his sorrow instantly turning to surprise. Was it really not as he had thought?

”Your words did indeed make me reconsider the entire situation. However, my resolve to guard it didn’t slacken because of your words,” the Great Mentor continued. He wasn’t speaking in a comforting tone; he was stating a fact, not consoling a young man.

”But those words I spoke... looking back at them now...”

”There’s no need for self-deprecation, child. Your words held merit. Times are changing, and we cannot remain stagnant forever.”

The Great Mentor’s words left Igor somewhat puzzled. He scratched his head, his usual gesture when confused.

”Igor, perhaps the Mentor’s words weren’t clear enough. Allow me to explain,” Kuren said, approaching. He gently placed a hand on Igor’s shoulder, like an old friend offering a warm greeting after a long absence.

”What on earth is going on?” Igor became even more bewildered.

”In truth, we ourselves don’t know if our choices are correct,” Kuren continued. ”Our actions are partly based on trust, and partly a gamble.”

”A gamble?” Igor’s mouth fell open; this was something he couldn’t comprehend.

”Yes, we’re making a gamble on the coming future. Regardless of the outcome, we firmly believe that what we trust in will yield rewards.”

Igor scratched his head. Kuren’s explanation left him even more muddled. Yet, in some way, he felt he could grasp what Kuren was describing.

Igor fell into deep thought. He was now gradually understanding this principle: these monsters always held positive expectations for the future and chose to believe in the better side of things. This belief led them to gamble on uncertainties. This gamble represented their hopes for the future. They firmly believed they could win this gamble, that the future was bright.

Igor felt himself being swept up in this atmosphere. This gamble, a wager on an uncertain future, required a great deal of courage. And for an Adventurer, courage was indispensable.

”Even without your words, we would have had a hard time keeping the mountain’s secret,” the Great Mentor said. ”At that time, I was shocked to discover that the Black Crow had unknowingly drawn near to the mountain’s greatest secret.”

”Look at it from another angle, Igor. Your words gave us more confidence in the future. Even if we couldn’t protect this secret now, we still held great hope for the future.”

Igor scratched his head, still not understanding.

”Your words made us feel, even after failure, that the world wasn’t over. They gave us something to believe in. Failure itself is just that, failure. But the future holds a resilient young man dedicated to upholding what is right.”

The Great Mentor and the others grew increasingly fervent as they spoke. It seemed that if not for Igor’s earlier words, they would be far more despondent now.

”Failure is painful, but if that failure allows one to see hope, then it’s an entirely different matter.”

”Yes. At least now, we see hope. That’s why we have the courage to make this gamble.”