High Hrothgar Monastery, Council Hall.
Jonas carried a basin of tomato rabbit stew from the temporary kitchen in the corner of the hall to the dining table. Dilo sat upright in his chair. After Jonas set down the soup bowl, he quietly sat beside him. The two of them profoundly observed the steaming soup before them.
Even though it was a simple meal, it still required a sense of ritual.
Color, aroma, taste—at first glance, everything seemed quite good.
They exchanged glances.
Dilo forced a humble smile, "Jona, you made the food, please go first."
Jonas, with a look of deep affection, said, "How can I? You are my good friend, my good brother. This bowl of soup I made is truly just for you, a testament to our friendship. If you don't have a spoonful first, our bond will weaken!"
Upon hearing these heartfelt words, Dilo was instantly speechless, his face flushing with emotion.
Jonas's eyes widened, "As expected of my brother from another mother! Look how eager you are. Say no more, I'll feed you!"
Before he finished speaking, he grabbed Dilo's chin with one hand, pinching it hard, making the young man yelp in pain. With his other hand, he swiftly brought a spoonful of thick soup to Dilo's mouth with a speed approaching light.
The honest young man from Whiterun instinctively savored the taste, then immediately began to convulse.
"Water, water, water… Ugh, ugh, ugh…"
A mouthful of incredibly salty and fishy tomato meat soup nearly dehydrated Dilo to death.
It's the third day Mr. Baishan isn't here, and I miss him!
…
Simon drove steadily, mainly because cleaning up after hitting small animals was troublesome, and hitting people was even worse. The roads in Skyrim were all paved and had a long history. Travelers would be safer sticking to the main roads; if they wandered off into the wilderness, encountering all sorts of strange ruins and caves was normal, and one could easily lose their life.
Simon drove along the side of the road on the plains because he would encounter slow-moving riders and wagon trains. He drove carefully and slowly up and down hills, fearing that something might suddenly dart out and get under his wheels.
Riding a motorcycle had a special poetic quality. As Simon gazed at the vast and ancient landscape of Skyrim, the subtle heaviness in his heart gradually faded.
Anyone who offends Boethiah should be afraid, and even gods would worry about it. That's because she is truly formidable, truly powerful!
Let me give you an example that can truly terrify people.
The current mortal universe, Mundus, did not exist initially. Later, this project was proposed by a spirit named Lorkhan. He then used his supreme divine charisma to persuade his old rival, Aka, and enlisted a large number of other spirits to participate in the project. These spirits were primarily Aedra, considered good gods, while the evil Daedra watched from Oblivion. This creation project was collectively known as the "Covenant."
After creation, the nascent plane of Mundus was unstable and drew power from the spirits. So, the chief engineer, Magnus, quickly gathered the tool gods and retreated. They punched holes in Oblivion, allowing the magic energy from the outer Aetherius to seep into Mundus through these holes. The largest hole Magnus created became the sun.
The spirits who remained, either voluntarily or by force, did not fare well. They lost their divinity, most degenerating into "Aedra," while some directly collapsed into "earthbones," which are the fundamental rules and material basis of the world's operation. Only the truly powerful could maintain their spirit forms, but they too were trapped in the obsession with life and death.
Lorkhan's deception angered the Aedra and his old rival Aka—the Soul of All, the Dragon God representing time.
The act of creation introduced the concept of a beginning and end to time, thus tearing Aka apart, scattering him into countless fragments that formed the river of time. Among these, the beginning of time was Auriel, the body of time was Akatosh, and the end of time was Alduin.
In the ancient Dawn Era, Auriel walked upon Nirn, the ancestor of all Ancient Elves. He gathered all the spirits and Aedra who opposed Lorkhan at the Adamantine Tower and signed the judgment plan against Lorkhan. This historical moment was known as the "Moment of the Covenant."
Subsequently, Auriel and Lorkhan led their respective armies in a divine war.
Among Lorkhan's forces, besides spirits and Aedra, there were also humans.
The outcome of the great war was that Auriel's strongest warrior—the spirit "Trinimac"—defeated Lorkhan, tearing out Lorkhan's heart on the battlefield.
This terrifyingly powerful deity, Trinimac, was later swallowed by Boethiah in front of both their followers, and then excreted.
Trinimac went through Boethiah's digestive system, and unlike Sun Wukong, he couldn't turn the tables. His form and existence were twisted and mutated, transforming into Malacath, the Daedric Prince of outcasts and exiles. His former followers were also twisted into the Orcs, or rather, the Orsimer.
Simon had read about this incident in books he collected in Apocrypha, and it truly shocked him.
Whether Boethiah actually swallowed Trinimac or not, it is an undeniable fact that she defeated an almost top-tier spirit. She is also widely considered the most brutal Daedric Prince, making Molag Bal seem a bit lesser in comparison.
It was quite normal for Hircine to suffer at Boethiah's hands. If a real fight broke out, Simon also had a premonition that his immediate superior would likely be thrashed, and then, like the pitiful Trinimac, go through the filthy and disgusting belly of the Daedric Prince, transforming into who knows what—Hunting Daedric Prince Plus?
Now, his main concern was being held accountable by this malicious Daedric Prince. Hircine reminded him to pay attention to the Ten-Race Blood Contest, a duel that had lasted for a thousand years. Boethiah would select representatives from the ten intelligent races of Tamriel and bring them into her realm, Snake Mountain, also known as "The Sharing of Power," for one-on-one death matches. The ultimate victor would be rewarded with a Daedric artifact.
Simon felt that if he went, he would definitely be targeted. At that time, if the nine people on the other side shouted that Great God Boethiah had ordered them not to be honorable when dealing with this bad Nord, and everyone charged together, it would be him against all of them.
Although he was strong, he wasn't yet at the point of disregarding all the capable people in the world.
All his worries and instinctive fears faded. Simon sped along and arrived at The Rift.
At the entrance of the city was a large mixed forest of fir and pine trees, where withered yellow and vibrant green intertwined. There wasn't much accumulated snow on the roads; damp fallen leaves clung tightly to the flagstones, outlining a subtle poetic beauty like rock paintings.
He parked his vehicle at the stable, ignoring the stableman's strange and surprised expression. Simon paid five silver coins for the safekeeping fee, then sauntered towards the city gate.
The rather tall city walls were built of stone bricks, with some moss and water stains on the surface, looking quite lively. However, an undeniable stench from within the city was already wafting out—the smell of feces, urine, and sewage. This was winter; what a terrifying scene it would be in summer?
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