Chapter 1180: Author’s Afterword

Circle of Inevitability

When I opened the document to write this afterword, countless thoughts flooded my mind. I didn't even know where to start. After letting it settle for a while, I realized what I most wanted to say: I will never write a sequel again!

This has nothing to do with anything else—it's purely because the writing difficulty was overwhelming, nearly surpassing my mental limits.

The first challenge involved the already expansive and well-defined world-building. There wasn't much room to create suspense or secret reveals, nor was there a crucial hook to drive plot tension. In Lord of Mysteries, the early parts involving the loss of control of low-sequence Beyonders were thrilling and engaging. But in Circle of Inevitability, unless the plot involved Outer Deities, major crises, or historical events from past epochs, it was hard to excite readers. Small issues could only be portrayed as facets of larger events, but how many major events could there be, especially ones that the protagonist had the capacity to be involved in?

I anticipated this problem before starting the book. My planned solutions involved unraveling the Fourth Epoch Tudor Dynasty's mysteries, the infiltration by Outer Deities, and weaving standalone events into a larger narrative. I also tried to use "arrangements" and "coincidences" to enable Lumian to participate and tie events together. But constant manipulation led to a loss of satisfying moments and weakened immersion.

The second challenge involved the already-established world and factions. The major players and motivations were clear, so planning an event required considering exponentially more participants. In Lord of Mysteries Vol. 2, the Great Smog involved mainly the royal family, the Aurora Order, the Demoness Sect, and the three major Churches. The latter could be treated as a whole, with me singling out one sufficient.

But by Vol. 3 of Circle of Inevitability, the Hostel incident involved seven or eight Outer Deity organizations. Even focusing on the Pixies, General Philip, and the Nightstalkers meant dealing with three factions. On top of that, the Eternal Blazing Sun Church had to participate, the God of Steam and Machinery Church had its own problems, and the Knowledge Moor was involved. That's not all. With the Conqueror's Beyonder characteristic involved, the Medici, Sauron, and Einhorn families were necessary. Likewise for the Iron and Blood Cross Order. The Tarot Club would get involved too. The Mirror People wouldn't have missed this opportunity. All of this was two or three times the previous scale. All required prior foreshadowing and proper introductions, drastically increasing the writing difficulty.

The scariest part? In Lord of Mysteries, these problems only emerged in the latter half of Vol. 6. In Circle of Inevitability, it started as early as Vol. 3. Every major event felt like writing the final two volumes of Lord of Mysteries—constantly juggling everything. I nearly tore my hair out. Thankfully, I have thick hair thanks to my genes, or I'd be worried about going bald.

The third challenge was that carrying over so many characters from Lord of Mysteries meant needing over twenty characters to appear and shine in key events. Yet the spotlight in any single event is limited. Everyone wants their moment, but it's impossible to satisfy all.

Many readers criticized Lumian for having too few standout moments. I didn't want that either… but the first challenge forced the plot into major events involving high-level characters. Naturally, the spotlight shifted to them. That's why, at the end of Vol. 3, the most memorable figures were Medici and the Eternal Blazing Sun. At the end of Vol. 5, it was Amon, Roselle, and Adam.

I can only say that to keep things logical, I sacrificed a lot of cool moments, leaving the protagonist with less time in the spotlight. So, back to what I said: I will never write a sequel again!

I once discussed this problem with a few author friends—in the same scene and event, how many characters can be effectively portrayed? Most agreed: around four. Same for me. Six is the extreme limit given special conditions. Beyond that, some characters inevitably become marginalized. That's why, in Lord of Mysteries, Tarot Club gatherings only focused on two or three members at a time.

But Circle of Inevitability inherited a massive cast from the start. I had to introduce new characters and still give space to essential factions.

Maybe a more gifted author could handle more characters in a scene and event, but that's not me—not now.

Vol. 1 and 2 were manageable, set in more confined environments with fewer legacy characters. But it only got scarier and scarier afterward…

Sometimes, choices had to be made.

So, I deeply regret that most members of the Tarot Club didn't appear much in the first five volumes. Firstly, compared to Lumian at the time, their level was far too high, and there were too few high-level, specialized events suitable for him. If they had been casually involved in minor roles, it might have felt even more off. But if I handled it as an ensemble cast, key events were limited and either had to be part of the main plot or couldn't be revealed too early. As a result, most of what needed to be handled were small daily crises, which couldn't generate enough narrative tension. Secondly, from a logical standpoint, it wasn't suitable for many events' highlights to be given to them. Even when they did appear, their impact was limited—just like in the Vortex incident, which drew criticism.

This is an inherent issue with sequels, and also due to my limited writing ability. I'm truly sorry I couldn't do better.

Some readers said the protagonist shouldn't have interacted with the Tarot Club from the start. But if the Tarot Club hadn't noticed such events, and they didn't pay attention to people with special fates, others would've complained that the Tarot Club was useless for overlooking it.

Moreover, juggling too many characters beyond my capacity was one issue. Another was that after Lord of Mysteries, many characters had their fans and detractors. No matter which character I focused on, showing them too little would spark complaints, and too much would bring accusations of favoritism. Giving them standout moments drew criticism and nitpicking, while lacking such moments dissatisfied others. I could only do my best to write from a logical standpoint.

Take Adam's death at the end, for instance. Some readers complained it lacked impact and was too abrupt. But Adam had already received plenty of highlights earlier. By the end, from a logical standpoint, Adam being able to withstand the first wave of attacks and allow the protected zones be teleported, while resisting Primordial Hunger was already pretty impressive.

Others questioned why Klein didn't help Adam recover after accommodating with Sefirah Castle for a whole month. But think about it—helping Adam fight God Almighty would have exposed Klein's awakening to the Primordial God Almighty, which would alert the Mother Goddess of Depravity, and then all the Outer Deities. How could they secretly prepare after that?

More importantly, Klein couldn't help. Adam could interfere with Klein's dreams only before the real confrontation and fusion began. This time, the battle and fusion started immediately for Him to counter the first wave of the Mother Goddess of Depravity's descent.

Honestly, of all the characters in the first book, Adam received the most development in Circle of Inevitability. Klein mainly carried over past roles and explored potential changes, while I personally feel I fully portrayed Adam's complexity—a cold, calculating god that has His detractors and admirers who also loves humanity.

I understand and even feel glad that some readers liked Adam—it shows I succeeded in writing Him. But if someone hates Lumian and dislikes or resents Adam, all I can offer is a line of poetry: "Better to die of hunger quietly than fight in vain like a mantis." I hope they never face sacrifice forced upon them.

Many argued that Adam's death lacked grandeur and wrote up theses on why it was unreasonable, but I couldn't comprehend their logic. Throughout the Circle of Inevitability writing process, I encountered many similar criticisms: dissatisfaction with some character's development, leading to long explanations about prior plot issues. But when probed deeper, it boiled down to circular reasoning. My only choice was to ignore it.

Some critiques came from heartfelt engagement, while others were purely malicious.

For example, during the Circle of Inevitability's redemption arc, people joked about the protagonist ending the world while the antagonist saved it. It was nice, with everyone knowing that it was just a joke. But some claimed the main character trio created such a plan, only to mess everything up, so that they could only foolishly watch the villain save the world.

If you ask, "Who brought the Circle of Inevitability to that side of the battlefield?"

The response would be, "Don't ask."

If you add, "Wasn't it Klein's ability as Beacon of Destiny, guided by Genie's hint, that led Circle of Inevitability there?"

The reply would be, "Don't say."

Basically, anything inconvenient to the nitpicking is dismissed. They have to lower their intelligence, becoming idiots before sharing their twisted interpretations to proselytize others into believing they were some smartass.

Similarly, there's also the saying, "Noble humanity destroys the world, inferior godhood saves it." Even without arguing about the truth behind the world's destruction and salvation, one could simply ask, "Then why was noble humanity forced to the point of the world being destroyed?"

Another example is when I wrote about Franca saving the streetwalkers. I had already added narrative armor in advance, stating that Trier had too many restrictions and that she would aim to build a new society when the opportunity and ability arose. Yet, a group of moral purists still criticized it. I usually don't pay attention to those comments, but some even brought it into writers' groups, suggesting things like, "Why not build a factory and have the streetwalkers work there? Such fake kindness." Sure, if the streetwalkers in the market district were sent to work in a factory and gangs were banned from this business, the world would be at peace, right?

But in reality, the demand wouldn't decrease, the law wouldn't crack down on it, and if the market district didn't have it, it would just move to another district. With the number of streetwalkers significantly reduced, gangs from other districts would force good people into prostitution, engage in human trafficking, and coercion. So, would those who suffer from this scheme not be considered people? Without overthrowing the old system and challenging the Church and government, this problem can't be completely solved—only gradual reforms can be made.

There's too much of this kind of misinterpretation and disregard for prior context. Should I really care and slow down my pacing because of it? Is it necessary? I've always ignored it. If people hadn't constantly shared these distortions in writers' groups, I wouldn't have known how far it had been twisted. If someone believed those summaries and then read the full text, they'd realize it was an entirely different story.

So, I must apologize. I once said, "If readers don't understand the plot, it's the author's fault." I was wrong. I spoke too arrogantly. I'm neither a sage nor a god. I can't make everyone understand. Some plotlines are misunderstood due to readers' personal reading habits, some because they're casually reading and don't want to think deeply, some because they skip around, and some intentionally misunderstand. I can't solve all of these. I was too conceited before. I deserved the backlash.

I'll leave it at that. To sum up, Circle of Inevitability was burdened with too many constraints from the start. The writing difficulty was so high that I often lost control, though I occasionally managed to pull it back. It was mentally exhausting, a daily struggle. This is also why I cut some side plots from Volumes 7 and 8—I couldn't manage them anymore. Expanding further would have risked collapsing the entire story.

Overall, my self-assessment is that Circle of Inevitability has both well-written parts and parts that fall short. For example, the ending of Volume 6 still has me thinking about how to build the climax of the confrontation with the Celestial Worthy without introducing too much about the Western Continent too early. My current solution would be to save Arrodes and the issue of the mirrored Original Creator for the final climax, delivering twists and turns just when readers expect the story to end.

In short—never writing a sequel again. It's just too difficult.

Some characters' endings weren't explicitly written out but were hinted at. Explaining them in detail would've entangled too many threads, disrupting the tone of the final chapters or undermining the sense that catastrophes never truly end but come again and again—that life is about enduring disaster after disaster until death.

For example, Farbauti's ending: I deliberately mentioned that the Abyss Uniqueness and the corresponding Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristics weren't taken. If I elaborated, I'd need to explain how the Devils handled it, which would be messy. The solution? Place it on Lumian's planet, create a new Abyss, and let Beyonders who took that path and committed crimes "ascend" to that planet after reaching mid-to-low Sequences—to kill themselves and play among themselves.

Another example is Medici's Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristics. As a former King of Angels, His spiritual imprint wouldn't dissipate quickly. Since Medici didn't appear in the final dream city while Cheek and Tudor did, it implies that the characteristics was returned after Lumian, Aurore, and Jenna stabilized.

I didn't elaborate because explaining Lumian and the others' state would require detailing how they began merging and confronting the malevolent dragon through the balance provided by the Circle of Inevitability. That's why the malevolent dragon didn't appear in the dream. Lumian, Aurore, and Jenna had become one entity—the former representing the masculine aspect, and the latter two the feminine.

As for whether extracting two Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristics would break the balance, simultaneously removing the Demoness of Apocalypse Beyonder characteristics solves it. But this had to wait until Lumian, Aurore, and Jenna fully stabilized and began resisting and merging with the malevolent dragon. Besides, the Beyonder characteristics and the effects from the Beyonder characteristics wouldn't reset.

Another hint regarding Adam's ending: the sun ornament on Amon's car and Lumian's final remark. I highlighted certain details during the war, like only Leodero's and Herabergen's consciousness being merged in, with no mention of others.

Anyway, it's impossible to cover everything. Touching on every character's ending would become a tedious checklist. Leaving some ambiguity—just knowing they've begun new lives—is enough.

Originally, I wanted a more tragic ending with greater sacrifices to better reflect the world, but considering this was the conclusion of the Lord of Mysteries universe, I softened it. Although everyone will die someday, at least for now, it's a happy ending. From the battle simulation and logical reasoning, this outcome was achievable, so there was no need to force tragedy.

This is why the final battle unfolded the way it did. With so few resources and manpower, achieving a decisive victory and permanently solving problems was impossible. Through extreme preparation, mobilization, and division of forces, forcing the enemy to retreat and agree to a temporary truce was already incredibly difficult.

For example, if the Mother Goddess hadn't been reset, even if She didn't join the battle and merely healed injured Outer Deities or prevented Their sealing or banishing, the situation would have collapsed. Or, if Klein hadn't placed the Circle of Inevitability on that battlefield to let Amanises and Lumian face the Monarch of Decay, things might've turned out better—or worse, considering the Monarch of Decay's symbolism. Either way, the decision was made to aid the Celestial Master and company quickly—the most effective solution in the shortest possible amount of time.

Considering all this, a "temporary" truce better fits the final volume's title and the world's tone. It may seem anticlimactic, but it's more acceptable than a decisive victory or heavier sacrifices.

Many may dislike symbolic combat, finding it too abstract, but I think it was fresher and more interesting than repeating past battles. It also made the overall flow of the final war clearer and easier to follow. I consider it an acceptable choice.

In summary, it's understandable that many readers dislike Lumian. I get it. But it's not mainly because the character was shallow. One reason is the lack of immersion—forced to engage in high-level events and rapidly level up, many of the enjoyable aspects of acting were skipped. The Hunter pathway isn't as fun to act as the Seer pathway.

Second, as the protagonist of a sequel, Lumian was naturally scrutinized and disliked. It's similar to how I personally never liked Return of the Condor Heroes and its main character, Yang Guo. Why should the characters I deeply invested in be used to serve as a foil for you? A rebellious little punk instantly falling for Yang Guo for life? Ridiculous. Effortlessly mastering top-tier martial arts? That's a joke. These thoughts made me only read Return of the Condor Heroes twice—the least among Louis Cha's novels. I only started to warm up to Yang Guo later because Louis Koo was incredibly handsome, and Carman Lee was truly stunning.

In fact, Volume 2 was when I put the most effort into portraying Lumian's personality and psychology in depth. Unfortunately, very few readers could relate to that mental state. Of course, this also shows that my writing wasn't good enough and had many flaws.

Speaking of this, I can analyze why Aurore in Volume 1 attracted so much teasing and dislike.

Most people, myself included, naturally resist sudden intimacy and attachment. It's like how picking your own nose feels satisfying, but having someone else do it feels awkward and uncomfortable. Due to the plot setup and hidden storylines, Lumian had to show deep care and reliance on his sister from the very beginning, which gradually made readers feel resistant and repulsive.

Normally, I should've written more about their daily lives, highlighted Aurore's good qualities, or included more of her past deeds and how she helped during crises. This would've helped readers connect emotionally. But given how Volume 1 was structured, that just wasn't possible. I just couldn't do it.

This was my mistake. I overlooked this issue during the story development and setup, leaving an inherent flaw.

Later on, as I mentioned, with so many characters and plotlines, I was overwhelmed and could only barely tie things up without expanding further. I'm sorry—my ability isn't there yet.

I've already discussed other issues and takeaways in previous volume summaries, so I won't repeat them here. After finishing the series, the two things I'm most satisfied with are: One, the world-building and settings were fully developed without contradictions, and the unraveling of historical mysteries was reasonably executed. Though the latter was wild and chaotic, it still fit the tone and was interesting. Two, The high-level characters I wanted to flesh out were successfully developed, like Adam, Cheek, Medici, Eternal Blazing Sun, the Mother Goddess of Depravity, etc.

Speaking of Medici, I originally wanted to write about a battle of wits and courage between Him and Lumian. But after completing the setup and reaching the story's midpoint, I realized Medici couldn't make an early move against Lumian—He's not Rosago after all. Without appearing early, and with the special mirror world and the Cheek/Tudor problems surfacing, there were no other options. So, it had to be this way.

Previously, I mentioned that the editor choosing the title "Circle of Inevitability" helped me resolve a key plot point:

Amon's role during the apocalypse.

During Lord of Mysteries, when I wrote the prophecy, I only thought Amon would head to the stars, have a fortuitous encounter, return changed, and play a major role before and during the apocalypse. But I hadn't fleshed out what that fortuitous encounter would be or His exact role.

When I started planning the sequel, I was stuck. How could Amon, a Sequence 2, impact the apocalypse? At least a Sequence 0 is needed to be relevant. Amon could only steal from Outer Deities, but Earth didn't even have a Great Old One yet—what could He take?

Then, the editor chose Circle of Inevitability from a few viable titles, including High-Dimensional Overseer. I looked at the pathway's Sequence titles: "Sinner of the Past,""Sufferer of the Present," and "Angel of Redemption of the Future"… It all clicked!

What's been said must come true!

Previously, when designing the Inevitability pathway, I decided it would be key to solving the Cheek, Tudor, and mirrored Original Creator problems. After introducing such a shocking setup, it couldn't just be dropped. The editor choosing this title made the story flow more naturally.

Creating a pathway's Sequence titles usually starts with thinking about core symbolisms of the universe's operation, then designing Great Old One names, expanding more core symbolisms, and then breaking it down to Sequence names.

Of course, it's not always the case. Sometimes when I couldn't come up with a good symbolism, I'd reverse the process—start with Sequence names and work upward, gradually closing the gap.

I'll gradually reveal the remaining Outer Deity pathways' Sequence names on my WeChat public account.

Now that Circle of Inevitability is finished, the next phase would naturally be the upcoming war and the problems with the Great Old Ones' states—again and again, until the end. That's the tone of the Lord of Mysteries world. Continuing would just be repetition. That's why I said from the start this would be the final book in the Lord of Mysteries universe. It ends here.

If I ever write about the Western Continent, it would be a long side story. That's why the Western Continent wasn't heavily involved in Circle of Inevitability.

The story is already planned out, but I currently lack the energy and motivation to write it. It would center on the current Celestial Master, depicting his growth—from rebellion and resistance to ultimately choosing to shoulder responsibility and pain, revealing the sacrifices made by generations in the Western Continent. But once the main plot is written, one will realize the ending is already set. He becomes the Demons of Knowledge, and writing his growth backward feels uninspiring.

Maybe in the future—if I feel like it. If I decide not to write it, I'll still find time to flesh out and release the Western Continent's setting. As for other side stories, I definitely don't have the energy to write them anytime soon. I need a proper break.

My next book will be announced after the Chinese New Year next year. I need time to reflect and recharge, both mentally and physically.

I currently have no clear ideas or exciting concepts for the next project. I only have scattered scenes in mind, and those could fit into xianxia, progressive fantasy, wuxia, urban superpowers, or even Republic-era jianghu. I'll slowly search for inspiration.

I once really wanted to write a story about the clash between Eastern and Western civilizations in a wuxia or xianxia setting. A protagonist would journey along the Silk Road, passing through the Western Regions, Transoxiana, Persia, the Ottoman Empire, and Northern Italy, eventually reaching Paris. Of course, these would all be fictional nations inspired by real ones. Along the way, the protagonist's cultivation philosophy would continuously clash and interact with various philosophical ideas and martial arts systems, enlightening others while broadening his own perspective, ultimately reaching great enlightenment.

This idea evolved from the trope of a taichi master showing off in another world, but elevated to a clash of philosophies and systematic development—with solid reasoning.

I eventually gave up because the writing difficulty was too high. It's a loose, travelogue-style structure involving too many civilizations and philosophies. My current knowledge isn't enough, and I don't want to create superficial settings and conflicts. Even after five or ten years of preparation, it might still be too hard.

Lastly, thank you to everyone for your understanding and support. Let's meet again in the next book.

See you in 2026~