Original God's Dark Priest

Chapter 903 Mental Torture

"Wait a minute? Possession? Has O'Loren been possessed by someone? What's going on?" Paimon was bewildered and eager to know the truth.

Orlan raised his head slightly and looked at the captain seriously: "Don't care about the life or death of others, don't worry about the gains or losses of your comrades, you only need to win! I must have returned here for this moment as well."

"Sir, you see? You could have confidently pursued the objective, but because of a villain, you lost the initiative... You were so close..."

Saffir was displeased and put his hands on his hips, a sign that he was about to teach someone a lesson.

The captain did not refute Orloren's words, but pondered for a moment, and then said, "Aurora is right. This plan was never within her mission scope from the beginning. I was too confident and thought I could get her help."

"Don't be too hasty. Whether I'm helping you or not, we can't draw conclusions now." Saffir's attention was immediately diverted by the captain.

The captain turned his head away from her. He wasn't exactly known for his good temper either; anyone would get angry if they were betrayed, and he was no exception.

Instead, he continued looking at Orloren and said, "I didn't expect to see you here, but unfortunately, I don't think abandoning your comrades is the proper behavior of a warrior."

Even for Saffir, her actions just now couldn't be called abandonment; it was simply a difference in ideals and choices. The captain could completely understand her decision.

The person possessing Orloren's body meant abandoning their comrade, implying that the captain should stand by and watch Orloren die, and carry out the plan without regard for anything else—something the captain could not do.

"Why bother with this dying man? As you can see, he's not far from death." The voice of the person occupying Ororon's body trembled slightly. He still couldn't understand. "After all, this guy never had a complete soul in the first place."

Saffir and Mavica both narrowed their eyes. Saffir was somewhat surprised; they hadn't expected this person to be able to see that.

Mavica was somewhat annoyed. What right did he have to talk about Orloren like that? Did he even deserve to?

Mavica wanted to step forward to argue, but was stopped by Saffir. She looked into Saffir's eyes, and he nodded at her.

Mavica suddenly realized, "Yes, isn't this also a trial for Orloren? The fifth hero, the one who inherits the name of Pidi, may awaken here."

With that thought in mind, Mavica retreated. Since things had come to this, she could only wait and see.

In the consciousness space of Orloren, the possessed Orloren is in a fog, surrounded by darkness, which shows his current state of confusion.

He wasn't completely unaware of the outside world; he just didn't have any thoughts of resistance at the moment.

He could hear what the other person was saying. Someone said he was not far from death. He heard it and remembered what had just happened. Right after he activated the device, a shrill sound came from underground. The sound was very sharp, like fingernails scratching a blackboard, piercing people's eardrums.

He lost consciousness amidst such sounds, and when he came to his senses, he was already here.

He began to ponder what exactly was there, and what secrets Nata's ley lines held.

He stretched out his hand and could only barely make out the outlines moving in the darkness. Other than that, he was not very clear. He realized that he was about to die. Although he had been mentally prepared, he was still extremely unwilling.

A ray of light appeared before him, followed by the figures of two old men and himself. The old men sat at the table, while he stood to the side, seemingly having arrived just in time.

The table was set with simple yet elegant food; it seemed to be mealtime.

"Oh, isn't this O'Loren? What would you like to eat today?" The old man asked kindly, his eyes full of affection as he looked at O'Loren.

Orloren recognized the other person; it was Grandpa Kunnau.

After waiting for a while without receiving a reply, Kunnau shook his head and sighed, "Oh dear, don't be so gloomy. Are you still thinking about that matter? Sigh... we shouldn't have told you."

Seeing himself hanging his head, Euron answered, "I... I heard that everyone originally hoped I would be the savior."

"Savior? Ha, that sounds nice, but does such a person really exist in the world? Why is it you who gets to be the one?" Kunnau scoffed, clearly disagreeing with the idea.

The old lady on the other side spoke up at this moment: "Oh my, O'Loren is here? Please sit down, please sit down. We just got some fresh fruit, let me cut some for you."

This is Grandma Kuimi; she's always been incredibly kind to him.

"What else would you like to eat? Grilled meat patties? We have everything, we have plenty of ingredients lately, so please order whatever you want." Kuimi was very enthusiastic, treating Ororen like his own grandson.

Under Orlan's gaze, he walked to the table, sat down in a chair, and ordered: "Grandma Kuimi, I want to eat the spiced roasted mushrooms you made last time."

"Which one do you like? That's not a local Nata dish; a businessman from out of town taught me how to make it." Kuimi was a little surprised, then laughed, "You know, you might actually be suited for business. You could travel around in the future."

From a young age, Ororen's health wasn't actually very good. After all, his soul was incomplete, which manifested as his thinness. Such a physical condition wasn't suitable for him to be a warrior, but becoming a merchant was a viable option. After all, Nata's channels for foreign trade were limited, and there was much he could do in this area.

However, after hearing Kuimi's words, Kunnau disagreed: "Oloren? A businessman? That's a bit too honest."

He was just an incredibly honest kid in other people's eyes.

"What are you saying? Kind-hearted kids who become businessmen won't cheat us old folks!" Kuimi thought it was a good choice; kind people becoming businessmen would be more beneficial to others.

After saying that, they disappeared.

Orloren took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

He wasn't an honest kid, and he knew that very well. He was always two-faced in various matters and was also very good at deceiving people. He could even fool that Dark Priest who was said to be unconventional and dared to deceive the whole world.

Hearing the two elderly people's evaluation of him, Orlan didn't know how to feel, but he certainly didn't feel good.

Then he frowned again; the conversation between Kunnau and Kuimi about the savior had undoubtedly reopened a wound in his heart.

Everyone says there is no savior, but he knows that such a person must exist. Otherwise, what is the possibility he was born with? Is it just giving others a false hope?

"Savior? Yes, why do you say that?" The pink-haired girl's words echoed in his ears, "Sacrifice? Hahahaha... Don't joke around. Sacrificing yourself is always the most foolish kind of nobility. Don't treat it as an honor."

The girl named Clementine was making coffee while talking to him about random things: "Someone tried to change a hopeless person by sacrificing herself, thinking she was different from others."

She died later, and... that person didn't change. She couldn't do anything, she just broke the hearts of two people who cared about her.

So, little one, self-sacrifice is not a noble ideal, but a dangerous self-destructive tendency. It's a mental illness, and your condition is very dangerous.

“My condition is dangerous…” Orlan suddenly realized that he had heard Clementine mention this before, so why was he confused now?

The surrounding fog dissipated somewhat, and he could barely see some other things.

“That’s right, I didn’t have to sacrifice myself, and my birth must have had meaning, but… what is my meaning? What can I bring to others?” To this day, Ororen still hasn’t found the answer to this question.

A large part of a person's motivation to live comes from a sense of belonging. Ororen had always felt that he belonged to Nata, and that was a sense of belonging. But now he knows that it is not. Knowing what he belongs to does not prevent him from feeling confused. What he needs to know is what he should do and what he can do.

But no one could give him an answer to this question.

"Brother Oloren, let's hunt together again tomorrow! Your skills are not bad, almost catching up with the number one fighter in the world, hahahahahahaha..." The white-haired demon boy laughed wildly, and the image of him wielding the strange weapon in his hand appeared in Oloren's mind.

A realization dawned on him: "There are people who need me."

He looked around at the darkness, but felt that the thick fog that had dispersed had gathered again, even becoming more intense.

A thought began to grow uncontrollably: "If I had succeeded back then, would the world have become a better place? Would my purpose in life have been fulfilled?"

Orlan shook his head violently: "No, this isn't right, this isn't meaning, it's self-destruction! I can't think like that! I still have... I still have..."

Suddenly, a pinkish-purple figure appeared before him, causing his pupils to shrink instinctively.

"Oloren? What are you daydreaming about? Have you finished your homework?" The girl put her hands on her hips, her face showing slight anger.

"Grandma...Grandma?" Orlan instinctively wanted to dodge, but realized that this was not outside, and his grandmother did not know what he had done, so he would not be scolded for the time being.

Thinking this, he composed himself, and then saw his own reflection appear in front of Cetalli's figure. That reflection answered, "Grandma, I'm done. But can learning these things really make me as amazing as you?"

This was once a small fantasy in the boy's heart: his grandmother was very powerful, and as her grandson, he wanted to catch up with her and be just as powerful.

Unfortunately, this grandmother on the surface was not so kind. The pretty young girl, Cetalari, simply tilted her head back and said with an arrogant and matter-of-fact expression, "Huh? Of course not. Do you think I'm an ordinary person? An ordinary shaman wouldn't have half of my skills even if he worked his whole life!"

The Great Shaman of the Mystery Master unintentionally shattered the Dao hearts of countless geniuses time and time again without even realizing it.

However, O'Loren knew his grandmother very well and was not affected by these words.

Is it fair to say he genuinely doesn't care and is incredibly oblivious? Anyway, he nodded vigorously: "I understand, you're a genius, right!"

"Hmm~ You could say that, haha, although it might just be that I've lived too long and learned things that others don't want to learn..." Sitrus knew how to be modest at this point, but she was clearly proud of it.

Suddenly, she realized something and immediately coughed lightly to change the subject: "...Ahem, it's very impolite to talk about a lady's age. Remember that, and never do that in any situation."

O'Loren's lips twitched, thinking to himself, "Didn't you say it yourself? I didn't ask..."

Seemingly aware that her unwarranted accusation would upset her eldest grandson, the kind-hearted Grandma Cetalli added, "Tomorrow... is a holiday, go and have fun."

"Don't you have homework?" As expected, Euron was still concerned about this.

Today's topic seems to have stirred up some memories for Cetalli. The usually strict Cetalli sighed, "Sigh... it doesn't matter how well you learn it. What good is being as good as me?"

"You've met those people in the clan, haven't you? Aren't they all afraid of me? Trying to talk to someone about serious business and having to watch their nervous expressions... it's really pointless."

At first, Sitella was quite enjoying herself, but as time went on, her peers gradually died, and before she knew it, she had become the oldest one.

The tension and fear of her juniors were no longer something to amuse Sitalei; she felt as if she had unknowingly become an unwelcome old woman, even though she still looked young.

"So, the happiest people are those who are content with what they have. Just do what you want to do, Orloren, and don't worry about what others say." After saying this, she gave a smile that was as kind as possible.

Orloren was the person who had seen this expression the most, so he never felt that there was anything wrong with Sitella's expression.

Looking back now, he seems to understand that when his grandmother said those words, she was actually trying to help him relax, not to be discouraged by things he hadn't accomplished, and not to force himself.

O'Loren remembered that his grandmother's growing concern for him began after the failure of that incident. How much of that affection was genuine, and how much was born of guilt?

Orlan didn't know, he only knew that his grandmother was very good to him, and his grandmother would always say similar things.

Orlan didn't understand why his grandmother thought he was forcing himself. He had never forced himself; he didn't even have the chance to force himself before it was all over.

"There are many ways for a person to exploit themselves, such as forcing their body and tormenting their mind."

Guilt, regret, gloom, depression… all sorts of negative emotions can be like poison to the soul, making your already fragile spirit even weaker. You need to relax, give yourself enough rest, and free your mind…

Orlan was startled. The words were so clear. What...did he hear?

The sound entered his ears, then vanished like water dripping onto sand.

“It’s…the sound from outside.” Orloren tried to find the source of the sound, but to no avail. He recognized it as Saphir’s voice.

Was Saffir trying to persuade himself?

Orlan was uncertain, after all, he was not sure what the situation was like outside. People's words were somewhat vague and he could not hear them clearly, but he heard this sentence completely.

Orlan realized that his belief that he hadn't forced himself was just an illusion; in reality, he had been living in the shadows for many years, never having had a moment's respite.