Chapter 31 Chapter Two The Nine Levels of Life

"You said you were going to walk!" cried Joram.He reached up and grabbed the sleeve of Simkin's white robe to keep him from floating into the air like a tall feather. "Oh, pardon me. I forget it when I get excited." Simkin floated down to the crystal steps of the palace, and walked with his friend.He turned to Joram and said bitterly, "Hey, dear boy. I can give you enough magic to put you on magic wings, as the poets say—" "No," said Joram. "No magic. I'm going to be myself, and they've got to get used to seeing me walking around here," he said in a deep voice.

"I suppose so." Simkin looked suspicious, but then cheered up. "They're sure to think it's a whim of mine. Speaking of which." He took Joram's arm as they walked through the golden front door. "Look there." "Mosiah!" Joram gasped, stopped nervously, and scowled. "That idiot! I thought he promised to stay in Sacred Forest..." "He did stay there! Don't be so angry!" Simkin laughed aloud. "That was just one of the illusions I conjured up yesterday—one that hasn't returned. The dude must have been gifted enough to keep my illusions alive for so long. Maybe he copied it! Despicable! How could he Like? I have an idea, let me go over and turn him into a cow. Then we'll see how much he'll like it down on the farm—"

"Forget about it." Joram held back his friend again. "We're here for more important things." The two of them walked past several sentries, who were powdered and covered with a hard shell of gemstones.The Sentinel stared at Joram suspiciously, and his expression changed when he saw Simkin.One of the sentries laughed, winked at them, and let them pass with a wave of his white-gloved hand.Qiao Lang pretended to be familiar with the door, trying not to show any surprise, walked through several doors one after another, and stood still. "Where are we now and where are we going?" he asked Simkin in a low voice.

Simkin pursed his lips and stared, glaring at the fake Mosiah, and looked around when he heard the question. "We're in the entrance hall, over there—" He raised his head and stretched his neck as hard as he could, almost knocking himself to the ground. "It's the Emperor's Hall." Joram followed Simkin's gaze.The passage under his feet is a spacious cylindrical space.It is hundreds of feet high, stretches into the sky, passes through the nine separate floors of the palace, and leads directly to the giant dome at the top.Each floor has selected boxes overlooking the foyer below and the dome above.Joram noticed that each layer was a different color, with the bottom layer being green.

"These floors represent the nine tribes." Simkin showed him a finger. "Below our feet is the way of the earth, so the theme is plants and animals. Above is the way of fire, then the way of water, and then the way of the atmosphere. And then up is the way of life, because these four elements can The existence that sustains life. Above that is the Way of Shadow, which depicts our dreams. Finally, the Way of Time and Space, which is the power that rules all things. After that comes the Way of Death, which is the Way of Kitsch, and then the Way of the Spirit World , in the afterlife. Above all of that, above—” Simkin looked back at Joram, and grinned wickedly. "It's the emperor."

Joran curled his lips and smiled slightly. "Damn it," Simkin muttered, twisting his neck. "I've got a cramp in my neck. Anyway, my dear boy." He leaned over to Joram and muttered in a slightly more serious tone, "You see why I must give you magic! People You have to float up to these nine floors to meet the emperor." He pointed to groups of bejeweled mages around them.The strange-shaped vehicle stopped in front of the shining crystal door decorated with golden patterns, opened the door, and let out the passengers.The guests floated leisurely into the palace like dandelions.All around them are the sounds of their conversations: greeting friends, kissing each other, exchanging pleasantries, chatting about new things.They don't make loud noises, and although their clothes are as colorful as the colorful rays of sunset, they are generally in traditional and conservative styles.Although today is a holiday, it is also commemorating a tragedy after all.The warm and carnival atmosphere should be kept to a minimum. All the guests had to say a few words of condolence when they were called by the protocol officer to meet the emperor and his wife. .

Joram watched this scene fascinated—in fact, he was also looking for Gwendelyn—watching all the mages who floated into the palace rise up and fly across the nine floors into the dome where the emperor and empress received their guests.Joram also knew that Simkin was right. It seemed that there was no other way to fly to the upper floors except by magic. "Where is the banquet?" he asked, scanning the green floor where it was located.Here, as Simkin said, it was adorned with trees and flowers. "Which floor is it, this one?" Leaves of gold and silver, shaped in crystal, and studded with jewels, the flowers and trees were like no other Joram had ever seen in his life.The bright rays of the artificial sun shot down from the Dao of Fire layer, reflecting the golden branches and leaves and jeweled fruits, making people dazzled.This strange forest stood stiff and silent, giving Joram the feeling of being surrounded and trapped in a trap.The light spots are constantly moving, flashing across every golden branch and every bright gemstone, brilliant and dazzling.

"Of course there are banquets on every floor." Sim Jin shrugged. "Why do you ask that?" A cloud passed across Joram's face. "How could I find Lord Samuels or Saryon or anyone in such... such a sea of ​​people!" He waved his hand angrily, becoming depressed again. "You just have to listen to Simkin!" sighed the young man with the mustache. "I've told you so many times! Everyone's going to see the Emperor and Empress. And at this moment, everyone's up in the Emperor's Hall, waiting to see who's invited and who's not— —the former is more interesting, and they'll stay there until the emperor announces the festivities! You can find Lord Samuels up there, or he can find you. Come, give me your hand. I use my magic, and lo, Get up, fly up and get out of here!"

"It's useless!" Joram whispered sternly. "Have you forgotten the Dark Sword?" He pointed behind his back. "It will suck your magic! I can't!" "Really, I really forgot about this nasty sword," Simkin said.He looked around dejectedly. "I said, it's unbearably tedious here. Nobody's going to know I'm here. I didn't expect you—wait!" His face lit up. "The Catalyst Saint's Ladder!" "What?" asked Joram impatiently, staring at the people who came in, especially the fair-haired young ladies. "The Catalyst Saint's Ladder, my dear boy!" Simkin was beaming again. "The Catalyst Saints don't have magical wings like you, man. They have to climb the stairs to get to the Emperor. Oh, and of course not Bishop Vanya. He has his own specially designed vehicle - a pigeon. Used to be , Then the bucket lord got heavier and heavier, so heavy that the poor little bird couldn't carry him. I heard it was squashed. There were days in the palace with nothing but pigeons--fried , baked, stewed . "Oh, yes. Stairs. Right here, behind the solid gold oak. Over there." He pointed. "You can see some church brethren starting the trek at this point."

Several Catalyst Saints were climbing the stairs, their shoes clattering on the marble steps beneath their feet.The stairs spiral upwards from the ground floor, turning round and round, and finally leading to the Imperial Hall on the top floor.The faces of the priests and nuns were submissive and humble as they made this tiring climb, but from time to time, someone would turn their envious eyes to those mages who could easily float in the air—especially those young The saints are even more so. Joram pulled himself together.He felt as if he had been lifted up by magic.He hurried up the stairs through a forest of precious metals and jewels.Joram stood for a while on the bottom steps, letting a catalyst saint pass.He looked up at the hundreds of spiraling marble steps in front of him, and saw that each step had a color that matched the floor, so he nodded in satisfaction.

I should climb these steps step by step.he said to himself.Just like wearing green clothes to commemorate my mother, it should be.Joram thought painfully of the stone statue that was forever gazing into the afterlife.My father must have been up and down these stairs a lot too.Saryon had walked those stairs before, maybe he was on them now! Joram pictured the appearance of a saint in his mind. The recent illness had left him haggard and pale. He must be struggling now.Joram immediately walked up the stairs quickly, passing catalyst saints who were slower than him.He will need my help.Thinking about it, Qiao Lang rushed to the first platform with all his strength, almost knocking down an elderly deacon who was still climbing the stairs. "What the hell are you doing on our stairs, mage?" roared the Deacon, who was out of breath and had eight more floors to go. "It's a bet!" Sim Jin floated up quickly, floating in mid-air next to Joram.Joram was so excited just now that he forgot his friends. "Two bags of wine, bet he can't make it to the top." "Damn fool." The deacon muttered, resting on the platform, glaring at Joram angrily. "I have to say, son, if your friend goes up at this speed, do you still want to win those two bags of wine?" "Better slow down," Xin Jin suggested as he floated closer to Joram. "Don't be too conspicuous... I'll meet you on the top. Don't break into the Emperor's Hall by yourself!" he said with rare seriousness. "swear?" "Swear it," said Joram. There was a point in that, of course, but he wondered why Simkin emphasized it so much.Before it was too late to ask, the young man with the mustache had already floated into the arms of several smiling women.Joram went on up, at a steady pace, and when he reached the fifth floor he was very glad he hadn't gone too fast.He rested for a while, panting against the banister, wondering if he could still lift his leg.He had been paying attention to the people around him, but he hadn't seen Saryon or any of Lord Samuels's family at all, and he was beginning to think it was a fantasy to find them in the crowd.He heard Simkin's voice somewhere above, and he glanced there.Sim'jin's white robes stand out against the colorful and bright attire of other mages. "I call this the return of the dead." Xin Jin glared at a group of envious people. "It goes well with such a jolly little gathering, doesn't it?" As Joram continued up the stairs, he found that Simkin's laughter was not as loud as it usually was when he said such things.In fact, some of the mages appeared rather shocked, and floated away in a hurry.Simkin didn't seem to notice, but flew to another group to amuse them, telling them about an illusion he now called "A Thousand Mosiahs."This time he got the same laugh as usual, so Joram ignored him and concentrated on getting his legs moving. He wasn't so absorbed in climbing the stairs that he forgot to notice the things around him.Every time he went up, his admiration for the beauty of the palace became more and more serious.He looked down at the forest of gold and jewels below, wondering why he had found it so unnatural before.From above, it was a charming kingdom, and every floor he saw was so charming. Tongues of fire licked the stairs on the Path of Fire floor.The surrounding lava walls radiated heat, and Joram moved away vigilantly before realizing that it was nothing but an illusion—all but the heat.The heat made him sweat, so he was almost thankful when he walked through this level and reached the upper level of Waterway. The floor of the Way of Water is full of blue crystals, it looks like it is standing on the bottom of the sea, and there are many phantoms of marine life floating around on this floor.The invisible light source allowed light to permeate through the blue crystal wall, making people feel like they were in sea water. This feeling was so real that Joram unconsciously held his breath, fearing that he would suck in the sea water. Gasping for air, he found that on the next floor there was more than enough air.The heads of four giants occupy the four directions of east, west, north, south, and they stare at each other, all puffing up their cheeks, as if they want to blow the neighbor next to them into another world.The wind was blowing at him, whirling past, blowing Joram against the wall and making it harder to move forward. The Way of Life floor after this is peaceful and quiet.This is the special floor for the Catalyst Saints—giving life force is their special ability. Joram, like many saints, sat on the wooden bench and rested in this kind of holy tranquility like a church.He looked intently at his companions climbing the stairs together, hoping to see Saryon—or should I say Father Dunstable.But the catalyst saint is not here. He was still weak, Joram remembered, wondering if there was any special care for sick priests.Well, he couldn't find him and the others just sitting here.The young man stood up and continued to walk up. The next level of Shadowway bothered Joram.Catalyst saints and even flying mages hurried past this floor.It represents the dream, without boundaries and without shape, both vast and small, round and square, dark and bright.Frightening or fascinating things appeared and disappeared in the wandering shadows, figures that appeared very similar to people Joram knew, but he couldn't remember who they were; Regardless of his weak legs, Qiao Lang hurried through this floor and reached the floor of the Way of Time and Space.He was stunned, stunned, unable to move at all, forgetting why he came and what he was going to do.This layer lays out, in the most astonishing and vivid visions, the vast torrent of history in Simharon.But it's so fast it's almost impossible to make out what's going on before it's passed.The moment he inhaled, the steel war has already experienced the beginning and the end.Qiao Lang saw the sword shining in the sky, and he was eager to learn sword skills, but all the pictures were fleeting, and it was only after the past that he realized what he had just seen. He began to feel frantic and hopeless, and suddenly his own life flew by like this.He was powerless to stop it.Trembling all over, he continued to move upwards, heading towards the floor of the Way of Death. Joram looked around in bewilderment.There is nothing on this layer.It was a vast void, neither dark nor light.It was empty.Mages drifted through this layer without seeing it, showing no interest in it.The Catalyst Saint passed with his head bowed, his shoes clattering on the marble, only a gleam of joy in the thought that he was approaching the top floor. "It's not right," Joram said to himself. "Why is it empty? The way of death, the Ninth Tribe..." Then he understood. "Of course it's empty!" he murmured. "The way of ingenious craftsmanship! No wonder there is nothing here. Presumably, they have all been expelled from this world. But there must have been something here before." He muttered, scanning the surroundings intently, peeping into the depths of nothingness. "There may have been ancient devices I could read, war machines that breathed fire, powder that blew trees away, machines that printed words on paper, all lost now, perhaps forever. Unless I can bring it back!" Joram gritted his teeth and continued walking up.Go one more level and you'll be there. This is the way of the spiritual world, the place of rebirth.Once upon a time, it must have been incredibly magnificent, and the souls that passed away peacefully and peacefully were deeply remembered by visitors.But now, it has lost its radiance, as if those phantoms are gone.In fact, that's exactly what happened.Necromancy, the art of communicating with the dead, had been lost in the Iron Wars and could never be restored, so no one could remember exactly what this layer should have looked like. Joram felt no awe, only tiredness, and great joy that the long climb was almost over.It occurred to him that he would have to climb a course every time he came to see the Emperor—after he continued to be a baronet, of course—and he decided that he had to find some kind of flying vehicle.Maybe a black swan would be nice... Emerging from the level of the Spiritual Path, he walked toward the setting sun—or so it seemed—and found himself standing at last in the Hall of Kings.