Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability Chapter 1180: Author’s Afterword

Previously on Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability...
Franca shared a bittersweet farewell with Melissa after discussing future advancements in their magical studies. As she wandered the vibrant streets of Trier, she reflected on the shifts in religious influence and encountered familiar faces, including a newly married couple. Later, she attended the monthly Tarot Club gathering, sharing tales of interstellar travels with her fellow members. The chapter culminated with her stepping through a mirror into an extraordinary city, where she reunites with Lumian and Jenna, igniting plans for contemplation and adventure on the Western Continent.

As I sat down to draft this afterword, a flood of thoughts overwhelmed me, leaving me uncertain where to begin. After some reflection, one truth stands out above all else: I will never write a sequel again!

This decision isn't based on external factors; it is simply because the creative difficulty was immense, pushing my mental endurance to its absolute limit.

The primary hurdle was the existing, vast, and meticulously detailed world-building. There was very little room left for mystery or the unveiling of secrets, and I lacked a central hook to maintain narrative tension. In Lord of Mysteries, the early sequences involving the danger of low-level Beyonders losing control were gripping. However, in Circle of Inevitability, it was difficult to thrill the audience unless the stakes involved Outer Deities, massive catastrophes, or ancient historical revelations. Minor conflicts could only be depicted as small parts of a larger machine, but there are only so many world-altering events a protagonist can realistically join.

I foresaw this issue before I began. My strategy was to explore the secrets of the Fourth Epoch Tudor Dynasty, the encroachment of Outer Deities, and the integration of isolated incidents into a grander web. I employed "arrangements" and "coincidences" to pull Lumian into the center of these events. However, such heavy manipulation often results in fewer satisfying payoffs and can damage the reader's immersion.

The second major trial was the established landscape of factions. With the primary players and their goals already known, planning any single event required balancing a massive number of participants. For instance, the Great Smog in Lord of Mysteries Vol. 2 mainly involved the royal family, the Aurora Order, the Demoness Sect, and the three Churches. I could treat the Churches as a single unit or focus on just one.

In contrast, by Vol. 3 of Circle of Inevitability, the Hostel incident required the presence of seven or eight Outer Deity groups. Even limiting the focus to the Pixies, General Philip, and the Nightstalkers meant managing three distinct sides. Furthermore, the Eternal Blazing Sun Church had to be there, the God of Steam and Machinery Church had its internal struggles, and the Knowledge Moor was active. It didn't stop there; because the Conqueror Beyonder characteristic was at stake, the Medici, Sauron, and Einhorn families had to appear, along with the Iron and Blood Cross Order. The Tarot Club was bound to interfere, and the Mirror People wouldn't miss the chance. The scale was triple what it used to be. Every group needed proper foreshadowing, which made the writing process incredibly taxing.

The most daunting part was the timing. In Lord of Mysteries, these complexities didn't peak until the end of Vol. 6. In Circle of Inevitability, this level of management started in Vol. 3. Every arc felt as demanding as writing the final volumes of the first book—a constant balancing act. I nearly lost my hair from the stress. Luckily, my genetics gave me a thick mane, or I might have gone bald.

The third difficulty was managing the legacy characters. Bringing over so many figures from Lord of Mysteries meant needing dozens of them to play meaningful roles. However, the focus of any scene is limited. While every fan wants their favorite to shine, it is impossible to please everyone. Many readers felt Lumian lacked enough personal highlights. I didn't intend for that, but the necessity of high-level plots meant the spotlight naturally drifted toward more powerful entities. That is why Medici and the Eternal Blazing Sun dominated the end of Vol. 3, while Amon, Roselle, and Adam took center stage in Vol. 5.

To maintain internal logic, I had to trade "cool" protagonist moments for narrative consistency. Thus, I repeat: I am done with sequels!

I discussed this with fellow writers—how many characters can one effectively handle in a single scene? The consensus was about four. I agree. Six is my absolute limit under perfect conditions. Beyond that, characters start to fade into the background. This is why Tarot Club meetings in the first book usually highlighted only two or three members at a time.

But Circle of Inevitability started with a massive inheritance. I had to introduce new faces while giving the old factions their due. Perhaps a more talented writer could juggle a dozen characters in one scene, but I am not there yet.

The first two volumes were manageable because they were isolated. But as the story progressed, the scale became terrifying. Choices had to be made.

I sincerely regret that most Tarot Club members were sidelined for the first five volumes. First, their power levels were far beyond Lumian’s, and there weren't enough high-level tasks that suited his progression. Having them appear in minor roles would have felt wrong. If I had treated it as an ensemble, the vital events were either too central to the main plot or too secretive to reveal early. This left them with daily tasks that lacked narrative weight. Second, logic dictated they shouldn't take the spotlight in every event. Even when they did, like in the Vortex incident, the results were often criticized.

This is a fundamental flaw of sequels and a reflection of my own limits. I apologize for not handling it better.

Some argued the protagonist shouldn't have known the Tarot Club so early. But if the Club had ignored such significant events and individuals with unique fates, readers would have called them incompetent for missing the obvious.

Beyond the character count, the emotional attachment of the fandom was a challenge. Every character has fans and critics. If I focused on one, I was accused of favoritism; if I didn't, I was accused of neglect. Giving them big moments invited nitpicking; denying them those moments caused frustration. I could only follow the logic of the world.

Take Adam’s death. Some felt it was too sudden or lacked impact. But Adam had already been given immense focus. Logically, Him holding off the initial attacks, protecting the zones, and resisting Primordial Hunger was a massive feat.

Others asked why Klein didn't assist Adam after a month of merging with Sefirah Castle. But if Klein helped Adam fight God Almighty, it would have revealed his awakening to the Primordial God Almighty. This would have alerted the Mother Goddess of Depravity and the other Outer Deities, ruining any chance of a secret counter-offensive.

Furthermore, Klein was unable to assist. Adam could only influence Klein’s dreams before the actual fusion began. Once the battle started, Adam had to focus entirely on the Mother Goddess of Depravity’s descent. Truly, Adam received more development in this book than almost anyone from the first. While Klein stayed true to his established role, I believe I successfully portrayed Adam’s complexity as a cold, humanity-loving yet calculating deity.

I am glad some readers appreciated Adam; it means the writing worked. But to those who hate Lumian and resent Adam, I can only quote: "Better to die of hunger quietly than fight in vain like a mantis." I hope they never have to face such forced sacrifices.

Many wrote essays on why Adam’s end was unreasonable, but I couldn't follow their logic. I faced similar circular reasoning throughout the writing process regarding various character developments. Eventually, I had to ignore it. Some criticism was genuine, while some was clearly in bad faith.

For instance, during the redemption arc, people joked about the hero ending the world while the villain saved it. As a joke, it was fine. But some took it literally, claiming the protagonists were just incompetent observers while the villain did the work.

If you ask who actually brought the Circle of Inevitability to the fight, they say, "Don't ask." If you point out it was Klein’s power as the Beacon of Destiny, they say, "Don't say." They ignore anything that contradicts their desire to nitpick, twisting interpretations just to feel superior.

Then there is the claim that "noble humanity destroys the world, while inferior godhood saves it." One has to wonder: why was "noble humanity" pushed to the brink of destruction in the first place?

Another case was Franca helping the streetwalkers. I established that Trier had many rules and she would seek systemic change when she had the power. Yet, "moral purists" attacked this. Some even suggested she should just build a factory for them. But in that world, without changing the entire system of the Church and government, the demand would just move elsewhere, and gangs would simply find new victims to exploit. You cannot solve such a deep-rooted issue through minor reforms alone.

There is so much of this context-ignoring misinterpretation. Should I slow down for it? No. I usually ignore it. I only realized how distorted the narrative had become when these takes reached writer circles. If someone only read the summaries, they would think it was a different book entirely.

I must apologize for once saying that if a reader doesn't understand, it's the author's fault. That was arrogant. I am not a sage. I cannot account for every reading habit, casual skimmers, or those who intentionally misinterpret the text. I was too conceited, and I accept the backlash for that.

To conclude, Circle of Inevitability was bound by too many rules from the start. The difficulty caused me to lose my grip occasionally, and it was a daily mental battle. This is why I trimmed side stories in the final volumes; expanding further would have caused the narrative to collapse.

My own view is that the book has its peaks and its flaws. I am still thinking about the Vol. 6 climax and how to handle the Celestial Worthy without revealing the Western Continent too early. My current thought is that saving Arrodes and the mirrored Original Creator for the very end would provide the best twists.

In short—no more sequels. The difficulty is just too high.

Some character fates were only hinted at. Detailing every single one would have cluttered the ending and ruined the theme that disasters are a recurring part of life until the very end.

Regarding Farbauti: I noted the Abyss Uniqueness wasn't taken. Explaining the Devils' reaction would be messy. The implied solution is that it remains on Lumian’s planet, creating a new Abyss for high-sequence criminals to "ascend" to and deal with themselves.

As for Medici’s Sequence 1 characteristics: His imprint wouldn't vanish quickly. Since He didn't appear in the dream city while others did, it suggests the characteristics were returned once Lumian and the others stabilized.

I didn't explain the state of Lumian, Aurore, and Jenna in detail because it would involve the complexities of their merger and their balance against the malevolent dragon via the Circle of Inevitability. They became a single entity—Lumian as the masculine, the others as the feminine.

Regarding the balance of characteristics, removing the Demoness of Apocalypse characteristics at the right time solves the issue once they begin resisting the dragon. The effects of the characteristics remain even if the physical traits don't reset.

There were hints about Adam too: the sun symbol on Amon’s car and Lumian’s closing words. I noted that during the war, only the consciousness of Leodero and Herabergen were merged, leaving the others out.

It is impossible to check off every character. It's better to leave some room for the imagination, knowing they have started anew.

I originally considered a much darker ending, but since this concludes the Lord of Mysteries universe, I chose a softer path. While death is inevitable, they have a happy ending for now. This outcome was logically possible, so I didn't force a tragedy.

The final battle reflected this reality. With limited resources, a total victory was impossible. Forcing a retreat and a truce through sheer mobilization was the best they could do.

If the Mother Goddess hadn't been reset, the defense would have failed. If Klein hadn't used the Circle of Inevitability to help Amanises and Lumian against the Monarch of Decay, things could have been much worse. The goal was to support the Celestial Master and the others as quickly as possible.

A "temporary" truce fits the title and the tone of the world. It might feel less grand, but it is more consistent than a sudden, perfect victory.

Some might find the symbolic combat too abstract, but I found it more refreshing than repeating the same physical battles. It made the theater of war easier to grasp. I stand by that choice.

I understand why some don't like Lumian. Part of it is the rapid progression and the loss of "acting" moments. The Hunter pathway simply isn't as whimsical as the Seer pathway.

Also, as a sequel protagonist, he faces natural bias. I felt the same way about Yang Guo in Return of the Condor Heroes. I hated seeing my favorite characters from the previous book used to prop up a new one. I only started to like Yang Guo because the actors in the TV versions were so charismatic.

I put the most effort into Lumian’s psyche in Vol. 2, but few could relate to his mental state. This reflects my own shortcomings as a writer. Similarly, Aurore in Vol. 1 faced backlash because people naturally resist forced intimacy in fiction.

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