Only God

Even after suffering heavier punishment, Jon still yearned to escape this place.

The watchtower in the snowstorm submerged him in endless loneliness. No matter how desperately he struggled, he remained powerless to free himself.

He was to stay in that place—for a full forty years.

In this world, how many people could endure such torture?

And how many have ended their own lives because they couldn't bear the loneliness?

Without a doubt, the former were very few, and the latter were many.

Jon too wanted to die.

Death was an escape from loneliness.

But now, he had been bound by a Forbidden Curse, incapable of ending his life through suicide. Now unable to seek death, he could only endure the pain that came with longevity.

To rid himself of this suffering, Jon started planning his second escape, making thorough preparations.

He knew that his capture the last time was mainly because the Priests of Mercury had placed a tracking mark on him, one that could constantly locate him.

Jon, relying solely on himself, certainly couldn't remove this tracking mark. Although branded a Rebel, he did not possess the power of divine pathways like actual Rebels; he was merely a mortal.

So Jon had to take an indirect approach. He guessed that this tracking mark had a range limit. Once he escaped that range, he could shake off the Priests of Mercury.

If the tracking mark had no range limit, there was no need to panic. As long as he could flee to the ends of the earth, would the Priests of Mercury really pursue him there?

From a cost perspective, chasing so far would be a waste of resources.

To ensure he could reach the ends of the earth, a mode of transport was essential. In this respect, Jon had already prepared a sled.

Last time, he ran away on foot, and with just his legs, he didn't get far. Therefore, this time he took apart planks and fashioned two simple sleds—one for escape and one as a backup.

Everything was in place; he just needed a proper season for the escape.

Jon waited with patience—he waited from summer through to winter. To his surprise, he didn't feel this period passing as agonizingly slow as before.

It seems once a person has a goal, they don't suffer as much.

As soon as the worst of the winter storms arrived, Jon climbed over the watchtower's wall. He chose the time when the storm was at its fiercest because the snowstorm could greatly hinder the Priests of Mercury's pursuit, and the gale-force blizzards could trigger avalanches. Mountains of snow falling could end his painful existence.

All set, Jon commenced his escape once more.

This time, he fled for about two months before being captured again.

Jon's initial escape went smoothly. The heavy wind and snow, as expected, caused substantial trouble for the Priests of Mercury's search party. However, he underestimated their capabilities. Those people were either graced with favors or held the power of divine pathways, even natural forces faltered before them.

And unfortunately, though he endured great storms along the way, Jon didn't encounter a single avalanche; his dream of death shattered.

The most unfortunate thing was, after two months of escape, Jon ran into a hunter. He asked the hunter to show him a way to leave the border, but the hunter turned around and sold him out to the Priests of Mercury.

With so much misfortune befalling him in succession, perhaps no Divine being protected him, and fate held nothing but disdain for him.

Returned after the second capture, unsurprisingly, the penalty on Jon was intensified. The Priests of Mercury kindly extended his lifespan by forty years, whereas the term for guarding the watchtower was only prolonged by twenty years.

From the perspective of others, this was like Jon getting to live thirty years longer than anyone else after his sentence, enjoying thirty more years of life.

But in Jon's view, what was the difference between living ten more years or thirty after his release?

What was the point of excessive longevity? Even if he was given ten thousand years of life, he had to endure these difficult decades first.

That was an indefinitely distant future, while the punishment of guarding the watchtower was the present.

Jon's plight did not go without sympathy.

The servant who came every seven days to deliver Jon food and firewood harbored great pity for him.

Over the years, this servant formed quite a bond with Jon; he could be considered Jon's only friend.

Although this friend, he had to endure an agonizing seven days just to see him once.

"You always say you're lonely, but I've been through the same."

"I've gotten used to it, and I find it hard now to interact with so many people," the servant said during one of their meetings.

"I swear by the Gods, how could you understand me? You can't understand."

"I haven't been here for just two years, I have to be here for sixty!"

"Even after you're dead, I'll still be here," Jon retorted, agitated.

"I think, whether it's two years or sixty, it's the same."

"Loneliness isn't intolerable, boredom is."

The servant shared his opinion.

Upon hearing this, Jon was taken aback, as if grabbing onto something crucial.

The snow whirled through the iron bars and slapped his face as Jon asked desperately,

"Why don't you get bored?"

The servant pondered, remembered for a moment, and then spoke,

"I'm thinking about… the Beastmen that might invade the border at any time."

Jon looked puzzled. He didn't understand how thinking about possible Beastman invasions at the border could prevent boredom.