The Shaman smiled, a sigh filled with endless regret:
"Maybe not in our generation, maybe not in yours.
But this longing will be passed down through our bloodline until someone truly steps onto the starry path."
The torrent of time continued to surge, and Ron witnessed the establishment of the first library.
In the heart of a bustling city, a scholar dressed in a simple robe was directing workers to transport scrolls.
Those scrolls recorded various knowledge—astronomical observation, herbal formulas, craft techniques, philosophical reflection.
"Knowledge must be preserved," the scholar said to his assistant beside him, his voice carrying a sense of mission:
"Our generation may not answer all the questions, but at least we can leave a starting point for exploration to future generations."
He scanned the contents recorded in those scrolls:
A distant mountain range described by an explorer:
"After the journey on the seventieth day, I saw a peak so high that the top was beyond sight, reaching the other side of the clouds. I believe there must be some secrets hidden there."
A craftsman’s record of production insights:
"Today, I tried a new metal ratio. Though still unsuccessful, I discovered a peculiar phenomenon.
This alloy emits a faint glow at certain temperatures, which might be a clue to a greater discovery."
A philosopher’s reflection:
"Where do we come from? Where are we going? These questions torment my soul. Perhaps the answers are hidden in the realms we have yet to explore."
Every record emanates the same light—the pure desire for the unknown.
Accumulating knowledge is no longer a personal hobby but a mission for the continuity of civilization.
......
The scene shifted, and Ron arrived at a magnificent port.
Massive void ships were undergoing final preparations, with complex plane transfer runes etched onto their hulls.
On the deck, hundreds of explorers were checking equipment, with fervent light burning in their eyes.
This was a glimpse of the Second Era’s age of great maritime exploration.
The captain stood at the bow, raising the nautical chart in his hand:
"Comrades! We are about to embark on a journey never before ventured!"
His voice echoed over the port:
"No one knows what’s beyond the barrier.
It could be endless wealth, unprecedented knowledge, or dangers beyond our imagination.
But that is precisely our reason for moving forward!"
The explorers let out a thunderous cheer.
Ron could feel the surging passion within their hearts.
Apart from greed for wealth and ambition for conquest, there was also a pure yearning for the unknown.
A young wizard approached the ship’s rail, gazing into the distant void:
"Beyond those stars, there must be miracles beyond our imagination.
Perhaps there’s a completely different extraordinary system there, or maybe the creatures there possess the physiology we dream of."
He turned to his companion beside him:
"Even if we might never return, the thought of witnessing those miracles with our own eyes excites me immeasurably."
The ship started to move slowly, disappearing into the warped spatial rift.
Ron didn’t know what the explorers on board would face.
Otherworldly monsters, unknown diseases, incomprehensible natural phenomena.
Yet they embarked on the journey without hesitation because anticipation gave them courage beyond fear.
......
Time flew by swiftly, and now he found himself in a solemn council hall.
Hundreds of representatives from different wizard factions were engaged in intense debate.
Before them lay one death report after another, recording countless lives lost in dangerous explorations.
"We must stop!" A seasoned councilor spoke with heartache:
"Look at this, a group of one hundred and twenty-three elite explorers entered that other-dimensional space, only seven came out alive, and they’re all insane.
They keep repeating the same sentence: ’The exit is at the last corner, but the last corner never exists.’"
Low murmurs of discussion filled the hall.
Some supported continued exploration, believing these sacrifices were necessary for gaining knowledge;
Others advocated halting dangerous projects, arguing that the continuation of civilization was more important than individual discoveries.
A young representative stood up:
"Respected councilors, I have a question.
If we stop exploring, if we halt due to fear, what meaning do the deaths of those explorers have?"
He glanced around at the people in the hall:
"They didn’t die from greed; they died from ambition, from pursuit. If we give up now, it would be the greatest betrayal to them."
Eventually, the council passed a series of "exploration statutes," attempting to find a balance between continued exploration and risk control.
But these statutes only made the desire for the unknown more concealed, not truly eliminating it.
For anticipation is as tenacious as weeds; once rooted in the genes of intelligent life, it can never be completely eradicated.
......
As time flowed into the modern era, Ron saw the people of today.
An experienced Abyssal Explorer was organizing equipment for the upcoming Abyss exploration.
His body was covered with various modification marks—metalized arms, crystallized eyeballs, skin covered with scales.
"The Seventh Floor... Soul Abyss..."
He gazed at the abyssal map, his voice carrying an almost religious devotion:
"It is said that there is a pure consciousness there, an existence unbound by the laws of matter. If we can contact them, understand their essence..."