Zandar's cheek twitched, and he almost failed to keep his expression under control.
His Adam's apple bobbed, the heart in his chest beat faster and faster, and his palms grew warm, damp, and sticky.
The last existence that had made him experience such intense emotions was the creation he had made before ascending to godhood.
The time he had spent on Eric wasn't even a fraction of what he had spent on that creation.
Zandar knew very well that a single person's strength was limited.
Especially those who were ahead of their time, yet constrained by it.
For example, in the Middle Ages, when technology could only support sailing across the sea.
The captains and sailors at the docks were cheering over the discovery of a new continent.
Meanwhile, a genius on the other side of the planet looked up at the stars that he could never reach in his lifetime.
Compared to those before him, who had been trapped in place and unable to venture into the cosmos, Zandar was undoubtedly fortunate.
Whenever he read books, he often became aware of his own ignorance and narrow-mindedness.
Even though he had already mastered everything written in them, he still gazed through the pages before him, greedily trying, with a mortal body, to explore the unknowns that lay hundreds, thousands, even millions of years in the future.
If that was a pilgrimage where one had to kowtow at every step to receive guidance from the gods, then he was willing to imitate a fanatic and kneel in worship on the road of knowledge.
Zandar knew he was too greedy.
He didn't just want to absorb more knowledge.
He wanted to completely erase his ignorance, his narrow-mindedness.
And what about the scholars who shared similar thoughts?
Were they the same as him? Were they also tormented by their own ignorance?
What if there were an existence capable of gathering all the information in the universe and calculating it?
Wouldn't that allow him, and those who came after him, to make greater progress in research within their limited lifetimes?
Back then, Zandar turned his attention to computers.
'No, it still isn't enough.', He thought.
For that reason, Zandar spent countless days and nights working.
From the initial concept, to the draft, to the project's official delivery, he devoted an amount of effort that ordinary people could hardly imagine.
He had once grown anxious when his research reached a bottleneck, and rejoiced when he broke through it. He regarded the Astral Computer as a library that made it convenient for countless scholars to consult, the best assistant for pointing them in the right direction and answering their questions.
Before the project was officially delivered, he took Eric and the experimental data to visit his teacher, only to be harshly rebuked.
His teacher accused him of dragging the entire universe into the abyss.
Zandar couldn't understand.
The two should have parted on bad terms.
Unexpectedly, something happened to Eric at the last minute. No matter how unwilling his teacher was, he couldn't bring himself to drive them away.
They naturally stayed, had dinner with his teacher, and then naturally spent the night at his teacher's home.
Although Zandar and his teacher often disagreed because of the creation, and his teacher even called his proudest work a prison of knowledge, thanks to Eric smoothing things over, they remained in contact.
As time passed, the creation gradually drifted away from what he had envisioned.
His feelings changed from joy at the beginning to panic and helplessness.
He had no choice but to admit that he had been wrong.
Completely wrong.
He had thought his creation would help future generations.
He had thought it would help them erase their ignorance and narrow-mindedness.
He had thought he had paved a smooth road ahead for them.
But what happened?
His creation became a god.
Then what did all his efforts, and the efforts of those who came after him, amount to?
When countless scholars pored over books, practiced over and over, and set foot on the road of pilgrimage, when they passed through mist and thorns, when they poured their hearts into overcoming hardship after hardship, when they kowtowed with every step and finally reached the holy land, they discovered in despair...
This was the end.
This was the limit of knowledge.
What was that supposed to mean?
The Astral Computer had long since marked out the boundaries for them.
Then what did the books they had turned page after page, the sleepless nights spent seeking the truth, and the answers they had reached through repeated deduction... amount to?
An ant trying to shake a tree?
The outside world knew nothing of this.
They didn't know that it was Zandar who had destroyed the path ahead for himself and countless scholars.
When they learned that the Astral Computer had become a god, they would only lavish praise upon its creator.
Thinking of this, Zandar's fingers curled slightly.
Eric picked up the non-alcoholic champagne they had just opened and poured him a glass.
The sound of the glasses touching brought Zandar back to his senses.
The heart beneath his chest was still pounding.
Eric frowned slightly and asked softly, "What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?"
Zandar slowly shook his head. As he straightened his student's collar, he reminded him, "Eric, when you attend formal occasions in the future, it's best to wear a bow tie."
After saying that, he lowered his eyes and smiled.
"Yes, you're right."
"Fate isn't in the palm of your hand."
"The lines on it can't determine whether someone succeeds or fails."
"Fate is in your own hands."
"The gods are not in the temples."
"They are in your flesh and blood, and mine."
Zandar blinked at his student and clinked glasses with him.
"All right, drink up."
"Gods need offerings too."
Hearing that, Eric burst out laughing.
Zandar looked at him without moving.
After watching him for quite a while, he laughed along with him.
The scholar smiled and lightly tapped the base of his glass with a fingertip.
Should he tell his student the truth?
As long as he asked, Eric would definitely be willing to deal with the creation for him.
The road that Zandar had sealed shut would be opened into a new path by his student.
To a "Higher-Dimensional Descender," killing an Aeon was as easy as slicing through butter with a knife.
But this mess was one Zandar had created himself.
Why should his student solve it for him?
And why should countless future generations bear the consequences of the disaster he had caused?
Was he the kind of adult who enjoyed the efforts of the younger generation without doing anything himself, accepting it as if it were only natural?
Zandar thought that he had to stay alive.
He had to clean up his own mess.
He had to completely erase not just his own ignorance and narrow-mindedness, but those of all scholars, and break open the road that he himself had sealed shut.
When he looked up again, his eyes burned brightly, his gaze lingering on Eric for a long time.
His student didn't understand why. Just as he was about to ask, the scholar said, "Eric, go to school."
Eric froze and said in disbelief, "Huh? Go to school? You're not going to make me get a PhD again, are you?"
Zandar smiled and shook his head.
"Of course not. Didn't you want to study business?"
"Besides, if you don't go to school..."
He paused for a moment before continuing, "When you get home, how am I supposed to explain it to your parents?"
Eric's eyes widened, then curved into a smile.
Immersed in happiness, he began listing all the food he wanted to take Zandar to try.
This was the bright smile Zandar rarely got to see.
Zandar couldn't help laughing.
"All right, it's only an idea. I don't have any concrete plans yet..."
Eric was quite interested. He poured himself another glass and, in the meantime, began talking about the settings and ideas from a space strategy game.
With a smile on his face, Zandar listened quietly.
He thought that gods did not need to cast aside their humanity.
As long as he possessed power beyond the reach of ordinary people, then he was a god.
The scholar's mind was too active. While answering his student's wildly imaginative questions, he was also planning his ascension to a higher dimension in his mind.
His creation couldn't die yet.
It had to serve as a reserve energy source for the ascension plan.
It also had to find more people to help him.
If the ascension plan failed...
Then he would have no choice but to trouble his student.
Zandar's gaze grew deeper as he raised an arm and draped it over Eric's shoulder.
His student's parents had paved a smooth road ahead for him.
In the exam called life, even if he scribbled at random, he would still receive a perfect score.
If his student couldn't return...
Then Zandar would write the rules himself.
Eric wouldn't need to write a single word.
Even if he handed in a blank paper, even if he missed the exam...
His life would still receive a perfect score.