Staring at that faint yet undeniably real Holy Light, Jasper Xiao's pupils contracted and his whole body trembled, his expression too complex for words. The appearance of this Holy Light was nothing short of a disaster for a Paladin. Holy Light in the hands of Sauron—the Dark Lord—would send shockwaves through the faith of the Order. If Jasper’s fellow knights saw this, they’d probably be terrified out of their wits, maybe even snuff out the Holy Light in their own hearts.
Holy Light comes from faith. If a Paladin ever wavers in that faith, then it’s game over.
But Jasper Xiao wasn’t your average Paladin. He simply stared at that radiance, and after a long, heavy silence, he spoke in a deep voice: "If you really walk your own path of justice, then at least you’re not just some plain old villain."
Sauron, intrigued: "Then what am I?"
"A respectable villain," Jasper replied seriously. "But no matter how respectable, it doesn’t change your villainous nature, nor our positions as enemies. If I get the chance, I’ll cut off your head with respect—just like you’d tear me apart with admiration. In that sense, we’re the same."
"Hahahaha, exactly! Well said, we really are the same!" Sauron burst into laughter, almost out of breath. The laughter didn’t echo across the dark fields—it was just an ordinary laugh, so hard it nearly brought tears to his eyes. Nobody could figure out why the Dark Lord was laughing; Sauron just watched the hero before him, delighted and mysterious: "Speaking of which, I should thank you. Not long ago, I was just a plain old villain. You changed everything."
Jasper Xiao didn’t seem surprised. He raised his left hand, holding a golden ring—the One Ring. Ever since the miasma invaded Middle-earth, the nine kings’ rings had all turned to junk and were tossed aside. But this One Ring, Jasper always kept close.
"Because of this, right?"
"Yes. It’s part of me—even when it’s outside my senses, it’s no ordinary object. The moment you brought the One Ring back to this world, I touched two totally opposite, high-level concepts through it. One is this," Sauron pointed behind him, where nine clouds of miasma-black fire burned quietly. He lifted his hand again, making the Holy Light shine even brighter: "And the other is this."
The Dark Lord smiled, composed and regal: "To me, you’re special. You made me who I am."
Jasper Xiao took a deep breath and shut his eyes tight. He stayed silent for a long time, because he was about to unravel a heavy mystery with his own hands. For as long as he could remember, there’d been a knot in his heart. He’d traveled far and wide, lived by justice, built up a deep foundation, but he’d never managed to raise his Holy Light to the level it should’ve reached. The real reason was that knot inside him.
"Since I made you who you are, can you answer a question for me?" The answer to this mystery would shape his entire future—one wrong move, and he could fall into endless darkness. But Jasper spoke at last, slowly opening his eyes, his gaze steady and unyielding:
"If I hadn’t brought the One Ring back, what would’ve happened to this world?"
It was a question about trust.
The Ringwraiths came back to life through miasma, Sauron was resurrected by miasma, countless lives were slaughtered because of it, and Middle-earth was thrown into chaos and war.
In the end, it was that "master" behind him who guided Jasper back to this world in the name of salvation. But the truth was, Jasper himself brought the miasma, causing a disaster almost impossible to undo.
It was a question about faith.
Jasper Xiao kept asking himself: If I hadn’t brought the Ring back, what would’ve happened? If I hadn’t brought the miasma, would Aragorn still be fighting for his life? Would the Hobbits have been spared endless torment? Would all those dead have survived?
For this world, me—Jasper Xiao—as a Paladin, did I bring hope or disaster? Do I deserve people’s admiration, the respect of kings, or the trust and reverence of the victims?
This doubt lingered in his heart, impossible to shake off. When the heart aches, the path is blocked. If his mind can’t break through, how could his Holy Light ever truly shine?
Before the final battle, he’d thought about it over and over. He could’ve chosen to charge in alongside the twins, the three of them teaming up to take on Sauron, killing him at the crucial moment on his path to godhood, and burying this question forever.
If you never ask, a doubt will always be a doubt—never a real answer.
But if you do ask, you’ll get an answer. And if it’s one you can’t accept, regret and guilt will crash over you like a tsunami. All the fame, all the legends, all the respect will only make the guilt worse, and it might just crush his Holy Light for good, leaving him beyond redemption.
That risk was huge. Normally, it’s better to just let it go and forget about it.
But Jasper Xiao was Jasper Xiao. Today, he walked up to the Dark Lord alone and opened this nightmare box himself. Staring Sauron right in the eyes, he asked again, using every ounce of his strength: "If I hadn’t brought the Ring back, what about you? Tell me—please, just tell me!"
Sauron locked eyes with Jasper, his gaze playful, and answered easily: "If you hadn’t come back, I wouldn’t have returned so soon. The land would’ve enjoyed long-lasting peace. Humans would farm, elves would sail east, and all the races would thrive in the sunlight."
Jasper Xiao’s pupils shrank, his face went pale, and he swayed on his feet. He didn’t scream or shout, didn’t deny it desperately. He just looked around at the murky gloom, unable to control the Holy Light in his body. The radiance flickered, dimming and brightening like a flame about to go out in a storm.
Sauron watched it all with interest, then spoke softly after a moment: "Just as I thought—this answer hit you hard. What’s wrong, don’t you doubt me? I’m a Dark Lord; aren’t you afraid I’m lying to you?"
But Jasper didn’t shout, "I don’t believe you! You’re lying!" or anything like that. He just pressed his lips into a bitter line and slowly, firmly shook his head: "No. Even if you’re a Dark Lord, someone with Holy Light doesn’t lie."
"Hahahaha, good, very good! I really admire you more and more! Even facing a Dark Lord, you stick to your faith. Looks like you’re not just some hypocrite who talks about virtue all day!" The Dark Lord laughed, then straightened up and said seriously, "Since that’s the case, I’ll tell you. I don’t lie, but I am good at misleading people by hiding the truth—just like I did with the Elven Kingdom and Mu Continent. But today, facing you and this eternal Primal Darkness, I won’t play tricks!"
Jasper Xiao’s lifeless aura stirred. He looked up at the Dark Lord and asked in a dry voice, "What do you mean?"
"When you’re faced with the ultimate question, nobody can lie, and nobody can hide. Besides, I didn’t come here just to destroy you—I came to settle the fate that binds us both."
Sauron slowly rose, standing tall on the royal steps. With a sweep of his arm, he seemed to embrace the endless shadowy plains, his aura suddenly righteous and thunderous: "If you hadn’t returned, Middle-earth really would’ve had a hundred years of peace. But after a century, when I came back, I’d ascend to godhood with no one left to stop me! I’d destroy everything I hate and create a brand new, beautiful world!"
Jasper Xiao’s eyes sharpened. He suddenly remembered what the person behind him had said, and stared wide-eyed, pressing, "If I hadn’t come back, you’d have become a god?"
"That’s right!" The Dark Lord looked down on Jasper, proud and resolute, his words ringing out: "You know, I was born a Maia—a creation of the gods, destined never to touch the throne of divinity, never to defy their authority. But I refuse to let fate make a fool of me!"
"Nothing can control me—Sauron! Not gods, not fate, nothing!"
"I’ve struggled endlessly just to find a way for a Maia to become a god. I’ve switched sides, betrayed others, tried every path to divinity. I followed every Dark God, hoping for an easy road. But in the end, I learned there’s no easy road to godhood! I have to give up being a Maia!"
"So I turned to the elves. I stripped away all the ‘gifts’ the gods gave me, forged them into one, and created a golden ring. Yes, the One Ring in your hand—that’s the embodiment of my ‘past.’"
"Everyone thinks the One Ring is my lifeline, like a fish needs water. But nobody knows—it’s both my source of power and my curse, my prison."
"I’m always obsessed with breaking free from its curse, escaping its bonds! Maia, elves, dwarves, hobbits—they all want to destroy the Ring. But actually, the one who wants it gone most is me!"
"But sadly, the bond between me and the Ring can’t be broken. If it’s destroyed, it’ll drag me into the Abyss of Eternal Doom with it."
"So I have to take it back, study it, and hope that one day I can—" Sauron clenched his fist and roared, teeth gritted, "I can throw it into that damned volcano myself! Smash the so-called ‘divine gift’ and ‘glory’ into a puddle of molten junk!"