Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 129: Night of the Demon King

The Demon King, corruption, and pain, with the salty scent of the sea breeze, surrounded the area.

No other creatures had survived there, whether the Demon King was present or not, as deathly silence had always ruled everything. The only sound had been the sea—so gentle it was almost negligible, with waves sounding like feathers plucking at eardrums.

The recent battle felt like a dream, Teest thought.

Looking directly at the Demon King had filled his mind with noise until he had thrust that sword under the effect of [King of Eternal Sleep], the sense of unrealness of the illusion still lingering.

Years ago, he had walked in the shadows of the city, hunting the high ranks of human religion. Now, his sword had pierced through the Demon King’s skull.

At that moment, Teest had only had two vague thoughts—

Nol wasn’t suited to be a killer. He would have been sad.

Giving prey a swift end was the virtue of a hunter, and also the sweetest strike.

The sword had two edges, and the knight had two opposing thoughts. That was normal, right?

Beside the grieving Nol, Teest couldn’t help but tremble with excitement throughout his body. This thrill was stronger than his first successful hunt, and in the extreme fatigue and weakness, Teest couldn’t perfectly conceal it.

Since approaching the Brick Mountains, the continuous pain and discomfort vanished with the demise of the Demon King.

At that moment, he had seen the ‘moon’.

Four eyeballs had been rolling around, emitting a pressure similar to the Demon King’s… No, they were more vivid, stronger than the dead Demon King. Teest had thought hazily, his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth bleeding again. His thoughts, like solidified syrup, had been shattered by this pressure, becoming scattered and sticky.

Ah…

Another ‘God’.

Three destroyed worlds, three fallen creators. The strange existence peering from the sky, and beside… Beside inheriting the Remnant Will of the World, creating their own ancestors’ ‘God’.

The ‘God’ who had led him to see all this, the ‘God’ he had marked.

Teest had staggered forward half a step, hugging Nol from behind. Nol wasn’t robust to begin with, and now was even more frail with his damaged body. Compared to Teest’s burning body, Nol’s temperature had felt icy cold.

The Mad Monk’s broken clothes revealed pink skin and a thin layer of goosebumps, his breath condensing into white vapor in the cold night air.

Teest hugged Nol tightly, looking again at the sky where the eyeballs chaotically turned—they had seemed dissatisfied with their findings, looking in different directions, occasionally turning back.

A chaotic battlefield, two bloodied people, and the strange, terrifying four moons.

The weird pressure had fluctuated in intensity. Teest hugged Nol tighter, his chin resting on Nol’s shoulder. Just by their posture, they looked like an ordinary couple enjoying the moon by the sea.

…Could he ever have been this satisfied in his life?

“Let’s rest for a while.” Teest’s lips brushed against Nol’s earlobe. “With [God’s Forsaken], we just need to hold on until it disappears.”

Nol stirred as if awakening, turning his head to look at the three people a few hundred meters away—from Anakin to Painter, all three with their heads down and eyes closed, not daring to breathe. The moon’s suppression on them had seemed much stronger than here.

Nol’s gaze had returned to the moon.

In the past, he might have crumbled in fear. Now, he had looked at them steadfastly, his heart boiling with hostility. The oppressive feeling had poured down. For the moment, it hadn’t been enough to make Nol bleed, only able to forcibly jumble his thoughts. Nol’s head buzzed, and he suppressed the urge to vomit, gripping his remaining hand tight while his blue eyes filled with rage.

He was going to disappoint his three “predecessors”.

Countless innocents were involved and killed, his creation’s destiny twisted beyond recognition, and his compatriots were trapped in death for over two thousand years. Merely finding a way to bring everyone home… No, it hadn’t been enough—mere “truth” couldn’t satisfy him anymore.

Whether this world had been a malicious incubator or a stage for monsters to find amusement, he wanted to make them pay.

It had been a crazy idea, but that was fine. He had a companion crazy enough.

Nol weakly raised his hand. His fingers trembled, but his action was firm.

He didn’t know how to use the newly acquired authority as there was no new skill appearing in his skill bar. The system wasn’t considerate enough to give him a manual. His physical and magical power had been nearly depleted, but…

The skill bar [To My Compatriot] flickered with a faint golden light; its content was no longer the same.

[To My Compatriots: Go Home]

[This is a little token.]

[It is recommended to merge this skill.]

This time, the system didn’t make a sound. Ever since reading the Demon King’s last words, it had maintained a suspicious silence. Nol just watched [To My Compatriot] and [Lullaby] silently disappear, and new words emerged on their own.

The new skill’s description was short.

[Creator: This is your world. Protect it.]

Nol activated it without hesitation.

The effect of [Creator] was somewhat like [Lullaby], with a pale blue-white grid and cursor clinging to the surface of things reappearing. The difference was, the adjustment to the environment no longer required him to expend such exaggerated amounts of mana… As if the invisible barriers that had been there originally had vanished like smoke.

Nol faintly felt that he might be able to use this skill to create things that didn’t originally exist. Unfortunately, his mana was running low, so he couldn’t attempt it.

He only did one thing.

The soil, restored to normal, seemed to come alive under Nol’s command, rising by itself and skillfully forming an arched mud hut, completely sheltering the three people nearby.

Then he burned part of his flesh and blood to extract a bit of mana, making a smaller hut for himself and Teest. They were closer to the coast, with more sand than soil, making the walls shimmer with a faint shimmering gray.

It was obviously not ordinary earth magic. The moment the roof blocked the moon, the oppressive feeling weakened a lot. However, the moonlight outside the window still carried a filthy blood color. They still needed to wait.

Nol was completely drained of strength, collapsing backward, fully leaning against Teest’s chest. He could feel Teest’s feverish chest and the hard wedding ring on that person’s chest.

“Now we can rest,” Nol said drowsily. Even though intense emotions were still stinging him, his body had completely reached its limit.

Without that indiscriminate oppressive feeling, Teest let out a long breath. He sat down on the snow-white beach, snapped his fingers, and threw a lighting orb towards the ceiling. Nol collapsed into Teest’s arms, motionless. He held the knight’s waist even tighter.

The pain that had troubled them for days was gone, and the bizarre moon’s oppressive feeling was almost nonexistent. Regardless of their emotions, at this moment, their bodies got long-awaited relief.

The slightly dim light illuminated the two, exposing all the wounds hidden by darkness—especially Nol, who had used himself as fuel, looked more like “remains” rather than an “injured person”. Teest’s hair was matted with sweat and blood, his body as if it had been whipped a thousand times.

Teest grimaced as he fumbled in his waist bag for a long time, pulling out a fist-sized ointment jar.

The surface of the jar glittered with gold and was studded with gems, obviously pilfered from some Eternalist. As soon as the lid was opened, it revealed the ointment inside, which was pale white like fat. It emitted a faint, sweet fragrance and an exceptionally strong magical aura.

Teest frowned and swallowed a large mouthful of the ointment, then scooped a bit with his fingertip, gently applying it to Nol’s wounds—Nol had turned back from a dragon to a human, completely naked, making this task not too difficult… except the messy black hair was somewhat in the way.

Where the ointment was applied, the skin and flesh swelled rapidly like a water-absorbing sponge. The wounds wriggled closed, turning into fair, smooth skin without leaving a trace.

The incomplete flesh turned into a smooth, firm back, gently undulating under his fingertips.

Nol closed his eyes and cast a purification spell on Teest with the little bit of mana he had recovered. Silver hair cascaded like a waterfall, brushing over Nol’s cheeks. For him, this was the sign that the calamity had ended.

As his fingertips moved, Teest’s body temperature not only didn’t decrease but climbed even higher. Under Nol’s compliance, his hand’s pressure grew stronger.

“Teest…” Nol couldn’t help but look up.

“Shh.” Teest pressed a finger to his lips, his fingertip touching Nol’s tongue. The ointment was so bitter that Nol’s whole body shivered.

“Now is the most beautiful moment of my life. Please be quiet.” Accompanied by the filthy moonlight, Teest’s voice was as light. “…Lord, God of Creation.”

This time Nol didn’t deny it.

The Demon King’s fate was clear enough. He wouldn’t shirk this definition anymore. This was his world, and he would protect it.

Nol slightly propped up his shoulders, seeing the other’s burning golden eyes.

Under the interference of the four “moons”, Teest’s thoughts were inevitably confused, his eyes having a drunken moistness. Those pupils held no pity, no sadness—only endless excitement, joy, and obsession.

The terrifying “God” stripped away the last layer of rationality. The Mad Monk’s most fundamental emotions were nakedly exposed before him.

Teest’s breathing was quicker than usual, his heart beating against his ribs like a drum. The pressure he applied on Nol was so strong, it would definitely leave bruises on the skin.

It was still the Teest he knew, his rock-solid twisted support. This guy, though joyfully plunging into the abyss, always managed to pull him out of the darkness.

“What a coincidence,” Nol responded softly. “This is the worst moment of my life.”

“That’s really a pity.” Teest’s feverish palm caressed Nol’s back, like a dragon coiling around its most beloved gem.

“Then please make it a little better.”

Nol leaned forward, kissing Teest’s lips, his palm pressing on the wedding ring on the other’s chest.

What did a little more craziness matter?

In a crumbling, insane world, regardless of whether the Mad Monk understood true love, regardless of whether this intense, fiery relationship had a name, it all didn’t matter anymore.

At some point, they had merged together, unable to separate from each other.

Teest looked at Nol in amazement, his unplaced infatuation suddenly finding an outlet. He held his breath joyously, like a burst of colorful paper firecrackers.

He grabbed the ring that Nol wore on his chest and pulled him closer, deepening their kiss and adding some biting. After the long kiss, they both gasped for breath, staring at each other with the rings pressing firmly in each other’s palms.

Their rapid breathing was louder than the sound of the waves. Teest’s gaze caressed Nol’s face. From his eyebrows to his lips, the intensity of his gaze was almost tangible. Nol’s lips were swollen, and Teest was no better off.

The Dracolich’s blood color was pale, making the living Teest’s complexion particularly rosy. In this place full of death and destruction, it was the most vibrant thing Nol had ever seen.

Nol couldn’t help but lean over and peck Teest’s lips again. At the same time, he slowly moved his hand that was pressing the ring downward along the chest and abdomen.

Outside the window, the moonlight grew more intense. Nol disdainfully glanced at it, and the soil moved on its own, blocking the window with a small hole. Then he slightly moved back, just about to adjust his position, when his back touched something—cold, slender, like a spider web spreading around.

Nol suddenly felt like laughing.

From the first night he met the Mad Monk, he occasionally wondered if these golden threads would one day bind him. As it turned out, that day did come, just in a different form than he expected.

There was only one problem… Like the other victims of the Mad Monk, he wouldn’t be an obedient prey. Nol increased the pressure of his hand, gently biting Teest’s shoulder. His tongue grazed the skin, warm and very soft.

The two rings collided, making a faint friction sound. Nol’s free hand was grabbed by Teest, who put his fingers in his mouth, delivering a rather unconventional hand-kissing gesture. “Say ‘I permit’,” Teest mumbled unclearly, his voice full of laughter and longing.

“…I permit.” Nol moved his lips towards the other’s left ear.

“Praise be to you, my generous master.”

When Nol tried to move his wrist again, he noticed the golden threads wrapped around his arm. In the cramped space, the golden light flickered, and he was firmly fixed in his original position. Teest embraced him, emitting a sigh of happiness.

Nol thought that this rash act would make his mind go blank for a moment, covering the lingering discomfort with new pain. But it was really like honey, thick and sticky, and his chaotic thoughts were gradually glued together, flowing slowly. It was more of a sweet and malicious comfort than indulgence or venting.

Teest’s touch was unexpectedly gentle, sometimes too light, and too slow—the Mad Monk always liked to watch his prey struggle, a bad habit he couldn’t change. But Nol had to admit, Teest really had a way with torture.

Whether it was pain or pleasure, he never missed the slightest nerve. Unfortunately, the famous Mad Monk still made a mistake. Perhaps he was too focused on sinking into it, the surrounding golden threads became looser. They dropped in beautiful arcs, gently hanging on Nol’s arms.

Nol moved his now free hands, holding his knight’s face, and planted fine, gentle kisses on his forehead.

“Evening… prayer,” he slurred, his fingers twining around silver hair, searching for the other’s lips again.

The lighting magic had failed at some point. The room was left with only hot, humid darkness and the ambiguous sounds of entwining.

……

The long night was ending, and a bright light shot through the hole. It was clear and pure, the subtle pressure disappearing completely.

There was always a time when the moon would disappear.

Nol lay on Teest, his knees and back covered with specks of white sand. Seeing the faint morning light, he took a deep breath of the now fresh air, ready to wake the sleeping Teest. But someone else was quicker—

[System calculation complete.]

The system’s voice exploded in their minds. Teest sat up abruptly, almost hitting Nol’s head. [The “Demon King” has been killed]

[Permission merge complete. Compatibility assessment and analysis of the “Demon King” completed. Reward settlement has been settled.]

Teest plucked his ears in confusion. He realized that Nol, the God of Creation, looked as bewildered as he was.

[Your special job level has reached its limit.]

[“Beyond the Law” qualification confirmed. Based on your characteristics and achievements, special job “Doom Knight” is open for transfer. Do you want to accept?]

[“Beyond the Law” qualification confirmed. Based on your characteristics and achievements, special job “Demon King” is open for evolution. Do you want to evolve?]

It didn’t sound too bad. Teest lazily nudged the still dazed Nol, and casually chose to accept the offer. However, Nol heard a different set of notifications in his ears.

[Your racial job evolution has reached its limit.]

Nol: “……”

This didn’t sound good. It felt like inheriting the hatred of two gods. However, the four spinning “moons” intruded into his mind again, and Nol, with a slight movement of his mouth, resolutely chose to evolve.

With a “ding”, the evolution was complete.

There were no exaggerated light effects or dramatic changes. Nol extended a hand, examining it under the light. Black dragon scales emerged on the back of his hand, then quietly disappeared—he still retained the form of a Dracolich.

…Could it be that “Demon King” was just a title that attracted hatred?

“The oppressive feeling…” Teest retracted his teeth and touched Nol’s shoulder. “Tone down the oppressive feeling, Lord Nol. I have a bit of a headache.”

Nol leaned against his warm knight. He was just about to open the pop-up window to take a closer look when he got a bite on the neck from Teest.

“Mm?”

Nol turned to look at Teest. In the darkness, the other’s golden eyes caused him a slight dizziness. The other must have also received a transfer qualification—Teest seemed unchanged, yet everything seemed different.

But since the Death Knight was a top-tier class, Nol wasn’t clear what Teest had transferred into.

“I’ll count one, two, three. Let’s reveal our stats together, how about that?”

Teest, with an unknown level of comprehension, quickly suppressed that different feeling. “Before we encounter the troubles outside, we need to get our stories straight.”

“…Okay.” How did you know we need to align our stories! Nol became alert.

Three seconds later.

Teest: “…”

Teest stared at the “Demon King” following his race. “……You always give me bigger surprises.”

“Doom Knight sounds good, doesn’t it?” Nol pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least the symbol of ‘death’ is neutral, but this…”

Doom Knight plus Mad Monk—no matter how one put it, it sounded dangerous. This absolutely couldn’t be known by Eugene—even Anakin must be kept in the dark.

…Although he himself wasn’t much better off.

Nol, feeling melancholy, stretched out his hand and tugged on Teest’s temple, trying to control the subtle “oppressive feeling”.

Teest’s expression suddenly stiffened, and Nol immediately let go. “Did I pull your hair too hard?”

“No.” Teest frowned, his expression rarely becoming serious.

“I just received this.” He called up a mission pop-up.

[★Main Quest “Demon King Subjugation” Officially Starts★]

[Under the guidance of God, the fearless heroes of Tahe have finally defeated the Demon King today. The ancient Demon King has fallen, but the evil shadow hasn’t yet dissipated. Strange phenomena have appeared in the Brick Mountains. A new Demon King has awakened, lurking in the darkness, plotting the next destruction.]

[Brave warriors from other worlds, your era has begun.]

[Quest Completion Condition: Find and subdue the new Demon King.]

[Quest Reward: God will fulfill your wish.]

[Quest automatically accepted.]

Nol fiddled with the virtual shadow of the pop-up. “Issued by the system?”

“Yes, but it stuttered several times, sounding particularly emotionless.” Teest shrugged and retracted the pop-up. “It seems it doesn’t completely obey your commands—what do you plan to do next?”

“I think it’s a good sign,” Nol said coldly. “Whatever those four moons are, they previously didn’t dare to confront the Demon King directly, and now they don’t want to deal with me themselves—they must be wary of something.”

“So what?” Teest’s eyes shone brightly.

“We continue to hide, continue to grow stronger, and continue to investigate the truth until we knock those bastards down from the sky,” Nol said firmly. “What about you? Any ideas?”

Teest’s smile became even brighter. “Of course!”

“Those eyes have a nice texture. I think hanging the body of a god in front of a church is definitely the most thrilling…” He paused strangely, his gaze sweeping over Nol’s lips.

“…No, the second most thrilling thing. What do you think?”

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The author has something to say:

Congratulations to the married couple (???

Finally! The long 129! You’re just a tiny bit faster than the neighbors, yes.

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Kinky Thoughts:

Yes, they did it, for those who are wondering.

This marks the end of this arc.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 128: Looking

At the elite group’s campsite.

At a certain moment, people who were running amok in the camp suddenly froze in place. They became like specimens in amber, still breathing, hearts still beating.

Something definitely happened. Abandon would bet his decades of gaming experience on it.

For the first time, he found the current “wax museum” scarier than the previous “madhouse”. It was too quiet, combined with the surrounding abyss-like darkness, they seemed like they were stuffed into a tiny submarine, slowly sinking to the bottom of the sea.

A thick layer of dark shadows bubbled up from the pitch-black ground, stirring wildly like boiling water. Abandon’s scalp tingled, and he immediately ran towards the direction of Hot Ash.

“There are so many shadows in the camp!” Abandon shouted.

“At the same time, the monsters around us have all vanished,” Night Ranger Solo quickly reported. He looked into the distance, his face unable to hide his worry.

“The change is too fast. Anakin and the others must have triggered something.” Hot Ash drew his long sword, its glow illuminating the surroundings.

“I think so too,” Solo said hurriedly. “Since the monsters are gone, can’t we go to support them…”

“No,” Eugene said firmly.

“I didn’t ask you!” Realizing his relative might be in trouble, Solo had no mind to maintain any Player etiquette.

“You can’t do anything if you go now, except cause trouble.” Eugene stared at the campsite, which looked like a puppet theater. “Don’t you feel it?”

This time, even Hot Ash frowned at Eugene.

Abandon and Solo, being mid-level Players, might not notice, but Eugene should be able to feel what Hot Ash could. In fact, besides noticing the abnormality in front of him, he hadn’t detected anything else.

Was it because of his native status?

Though puzzled, Hot Ash wasn’t going to play twenty questions at a time like this. He hummed, “Mr. Eugene, what do you suggest?”

“While the Saints in the camp are immobilized, everyone should immediately retreat to the Brick Mountains, ensuring the safety of most people. With your abilities, it should be doable.”

Eugene clearly had thought this through. “I myself will stay here to cover for the Goddess.”

“Taking so many people over the snowy mountains?!” Abandon’s mouth fell open.

Eugene smirked slightly. “Mr. Hot Ash is a fierce knight. He can do it. If I’m not mistaken, Amazon must have prepared a thorough response plan. You don’t need to complete the whole journey.”

Hot Ash looked deeply at Eugene. “Are you sure you want to stay?”

“The traitor Painter was guided here by God. I must see the result.” Eugene’s tone was calm. “Drake is also an interesting person, always appearing at places concerning my God… Lastly, if this team can return, someone needs to tell them what happened here at the camp.”

“I’m staying too, waiting for my sister!” Solo immediately added.

Abandon glanced at the decorative-like, motionless undead knight.

Ever since Drake left, he couldn’t control it anymore. It wasn’t destroyed by Eugene only because it was a “critical quest NPC”. If there was a risk, Eugene wouldn’t protect it, and Solo would prioritize Anakin… Their quest could fail.

Moreover, since Solo was staying, running back alone would be embarrassing in front of Hot Ash. He might as well stay through!

“I’ll stay too.” Abandon cleared his throat. “Our quest NPC is still here! I have to watch over it.”

Hot Ash nodded appreciatively. Eugene, however, glanced over the two staying behind, then looked meaningfully into the distance.

……

Anakin was reaching her limit.

Despite having Fischer, the “air purifier”, the corruption was still rapidly corroding her body. She had already lost sensation below her waist, and above it, she felt ulcer-like intense pain.

The night was too heavy, her condition too poor, and she was gradually unable to see the situation in the distance clearly. All she could see was the surging darkness and the purification magic that was almost engulfed.

Painter extended a hand towards her, his palm hovering just above Anakin’s thigh without touching. A warm current flowed and stirred along with his purification magic.

“Hold on, miss.”

Painter spoke with a smile, his tone light as if he wasn’t bothered by the corruption at all—if Anakin hadn’t seen his festering, blackened ankles, she might have believed him.

“You needn’t be distracted…”

“If you fall, the burden on us becomes heavier, and Mr. Fischer’s pressure increases,” Painter said. “It’s not stinginess, it’s tactics.”

Anakin gasped for breath and nodded. She took out the last two bottles of holy water from her inventory and handed one to Painter.

If she had known this would happen, she would have prepared more. Who would have thought that just by doing a quest, she would end up facing the Demon King?

The system had once called her “the lucky one chosen by fate”, but it seemed all her luck had been used up in such an ominous place.

After drinking a bottle of holy water, the effect was minimal. The corruption was relentless, and Painter’s purification was like a drop in the bucket.

Anakin didn’t know if it was getting darker or if her vision was blurring with black spots. Even Painter, close at hand, started to blur. She was about to…

Suddenly, her vision cleared instantaneously.

The corruption remained the same, and the efficiency of the purification hadn’t changed, so there was only one possibility—Anakin turned in shock and looked at Fischer.

Fischer was staring intently in the direction of the Demon King, his eyes flickering with an unusual fervor.

His spell to collect corruption had strengthened several times compared to before. The thick corruption in mid-air condensed into a ball, pulsating like a living organism.

“My God.”

Fischer ignored Anakin’s gaze, fixated only on the main battlefield. “How foolish I have been… How could I waver? I was deceived by a false god before…”

Painter frowned and squinted in the same direction, saying nothing.

As the leader of the Drifting Mercenaries, he had long acquired the ability to see in the dark—at that second, in his vision, a blue ring of fire suddenly ignited, and the form of the Demon King flashed.

Its body and head were severed into two parts.

……

It worked.

Nol, however, didn’t relax his guard. He signaled Teest to jump down, landing between the Demon King’s body and head.

As expected, the Demon King didn’t perish from that strike.

Its head and body twisted on the spot, spewing more black figures from the severed parts. They rushed towards each other, as if trying to reattach the severed sections.

Teest naturally didn’t miss this opportunity.

[King of Eternal Sleep] activated again, and several large pieces of debris floated over, lying across the middle of the Demon King’s head and body. They occasionally rotated, pushing away the gathering figures.

Nol then activated his magic again—targeting the “head” and “body”, he only needed [Lullaby].

Nol, burning half of his body with all his might, pushed the Demon King’s body further and further away until it was swallowed by the waves. What followed was simple.

To get the sea moving, he only needed the most basic magic.

Nol laid on Teest’s shoulder, extending his staff. The tides of the Endless Sea surged, and waves as high as tsunamis washed the shadow-spewing body into the depths of darkness.

When they turned around, only a giant head remained behind them.

Above the head, six white orbs slowly drifted. The top of the head continued to spew shadows, and the neck’s severed part also kept spraying. The vortex of shadow remnants gradually calmed down. They just appeared and dispersed. They turned their backs to the head, aimlessly running into the distance.

For some reason, the head seemed much calmer now. The six eye-like orbs slowly rotated, converging in the direction of the two men.

The hill-like toy bear collapsed, its beautiful flowers still blooming. The cannons fired chaotically into the sky, exploding like fireworks. The fierce wooden talismans clattered to the ground like oversized party poppers.

Nol, dragging his mutilated body, braced for battle, and Teest also prepared his shield just in case.

But they didn’t feel any hostility.

The fragments of the dream swiftly passed, and the head also shrank more and more. It deformed and collapsed, its six light spots also constantly moving, their gaze following the two men in front of them.

The world’s remnants behind the Demon King splendidly collapsed, resembling a bright yet lonely curtain fall.

It could be harmed but had no health bar. It was nearly devoid of reason but didn’t struggle, nor did it have the boss’s typical death throes.

At that moment, Nol suddenly felt that this long-dead Demon King was more like a “living being” than any enemy before.

It didn’t attack, and they didn’t take the opportunity to strike either. Teest once thought of taking the chance, but Nol gently stopped him.

So they just quietly watched.

The city’s ruins dispersed, and the figures of different shapes and sizes hurried away. As time passed, their forms became more blurred.

In the end, at the spot where the head had been, only a child’s shadow remained.

Its size was no different from a normal child, appearing to be under ten years old.

Beneath the child’s feet, there were two very vague, almost formless adult shadows. They lay quietly on the ground, like its shadows. At the place of their eyes, there were two dim white lights, too blurred to distinguish.

On the child’s face, the two orbs of light were relatively clearer. It moved its body and looked up at the two towering opponents.

It silently opened its arms towards them, just like the Demon King did when it first attacked.

The air briefly solidified for two seconds.

Nol, missing an arm and a leg and with most of his body consumed as material, struggled even to stand. Teest was still somewhat intact, but he was paler than a corpse, his lips bloodless, showing symptoms of magic exhaustion.

In the deadly quiet night, their breaths were louder than their heartbeats.

“Put me down,” Nol whispered to Teest.

“It could be a trap, and we’re both at our limits now.”

“But if it isn’t.” Nol struggled to get off Teest’s back. “I can’t bear it.”

Teest reluctantly let go, muttering, “What if it is? I don’t want to bear that either—”

Nol stopped, giving him a weak smile. “You can do whatever you think is necessary, including stopping me.”

“…This isn’t an order.” After saying that, Nol took out the wedding ring from his backpack and carefully hung it on his chest. “I’m communicating with my husband.”

Teest stared at Nol for a long time, annoyed, then stepped back half a step. “Ah, you’re really troublesome.”

The shadow still held its arms open, the two orbs of light in its eyes unwavering. Nol slowly stepped forward, stopping in front of it.

The blade of the letter opener silently passed through the shadow. Just as he had guessed, nothing happened.

“…Thank you…” The shadow seemed to have forgotten how to speak, trying several times before barely managing to make a sound. “…It’s okay… It’s useless…”

It was indeed different from the other shadows!

Nol squatted down. “Kid, do you remember anything? How can we save you?”

The child’s shadow quietly shook its head.

“Without those dreams… it’s finally quiet…”

Its voice was ethereal and unpleasant, sounding more like an old person than a child. “We died long ago. You can’t save us…”

It chose the question that would least affect Nol’s sense of guilt.

“We are just lingering spirits…”

The child looked down at the two adult shadows. “First it was me… Then came a brother and a sister… They said they were adults and wouldn’t compete with me for control, voluntarily giving up…”

“Sounds harmless enough,” Teest interjected without mercy. “But your corruption is terribly strong.”

The shadow remained motionless. “As long as we exist, we will hinder the new world… We just want to go home…”

“Do you remember how you became like this?” Nol went straight to the point. “Anything will do.”

The shadow shook its head and responded in a soft voice, “Memories keep fading… I forgot the names, the past. We can’t go home anymore… We just want it to end…”

Nol was speechless.

The obsessions of the first three creators were so deep. With god-like powers, they became wandering spirits in the world. But two thousand years of loneliness and pain were enough to dilute decades, even just a few years of human memory.

They wanted to go home but had long forgotten who they were. When they sensed traces of their compatriots, they instinctively pursued them.

…But how many things could withstand the power of a “god”?

At this point, Nol suddenly realized a very subtle issue.

“Since you are the lingering spirits of the ‘former creators’,” he said slowly and gently, “why couldn’t the other two gods defeat you? …Do you remember this?”

The child’s shadow flickered for a few seconds, this time not immediately shaking its head in denial.

“Not long ago, two very strong ones fought each other, and then one became weaker… I could feel it…”

The shadow clumsily described. “I never saw them… They are not my compatriots… I don’t like them…”

“Could it be the battle between the Goddess of Life and the Eternal Son?”

Hearing this, Teest moved closer with interest. “Those two were lying all along. They never dealt with the Demon King at all!”

“Thank you.” Nol braved the corruption, tentatively reaching out his hand to touch the figure’s head. The latter was a bit surprised. It didn’t dodge, but instead started to tremble slightly.

The outline around the figure became increasingly unstable, and it hesitated before moving a small step forward.

Nol was startled and then decisively extended his arms, embracing the shadow. In a trance, he felt as if he had returned to the hunter’s cabin in Night of the Hunt.

He had longed for an embrace in the initial breakdown, and he got one.

…How lucky he was.

“I’m sorry. This is all I remember…” the figure whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you…”

“Kill me, kill me, kill me…”

The figure began to disintegrate and churn, its voice turning mechanical again. Those few minutes seemed like a cruel flicker of life.

The slender figure tightened its arms around Nol, murmuring in fluctuating tones. The purification magic couldn’t suppress such close-range corruption, and Nol closed his eyes, deciding to let go of the embrace when—

Swoosh.

Accompanied by a strange magical fluctuation, something cool brushed against his shoulder, piercing the figure’s head.

It was the “Betrayer”.

The figure’s outline shook violently, followed by a death-like silence. It curled up, slowly leaning against Nol’s blood-stained shoulder.

The next second, it dispersed like smoke, as quietly in its departure as in its arrival.

For some reason, Nol suddenly remembered the first time he saw it… The monster called the Demon King, lying quietly on the beach, dreaming of a past that was a thousand years old.

If he lost himself in this world, lost his sanity, would he become a part of it too?

“Good night,” he whispered softly.

“You said I could do anything,” Teest said provocatively behind Nol. His tone was assertive, with a pea-sized hint of nervousness.

“Thank you, Teest,” Nol replied seriously, still in a kneeling posture.

Corruption still flowed over his skin. The Demon King had no corresponding system task, so the system was momentarily silent.

In the dark, Nol struggled to stand.

Grief, relief, doubt… They mixed together, turning into a faint rage.

The two gods never fought the Demon King themselves, now stirring up Players against him—no matter how the three innocent creators had fallen to this state, those two were definitely implicated.

He had to—

[Notification: Authorization effective., Data processing complete.] The system’s voice suddenly sounded.

…What?

[You have been recognized by the “Remnant Will of the World”.]

[Fantasy “Playing House” rights transferred.]

[Novel “Armored Holy Throne” rights transferred.]

[Game “Prosperous Shopkeeper” rights transferred.]

Nol stood there, stunned.

Before him, three white shadows suddenly appeared. The shortest in the middle, its edges flickering with data error-like mosaics, resembled the child just now.

The other two, a man and a woman, adult-sized.

The child gestured a ball-throwing motion at him, then waved. The adults nodded at him, the girl even making a “V” sign.

[Postscript: Go home.]

[Postscript ends.]

As the system notification ended, they dimmed and disappeared on the spot. In that instant, the dark land seemed to light up.

The dark red sky above faded, revealing a sky full of stars. The black corruption on the ground turned into white specks, slowly dispersing into the night. The land became an ordinary yellow-brown. The cold and discomfort from the corruption were gone, leaving only clean wounds.

At this moment, the Endless Sea was still gray-black. But Nol believed that at sunrise tomorrow, it might turn azure blue.

Nol’s throat was sore.

He had no joy in victory. They had to win, and the Demon King… The Demon King also wanted them to win. From the beginning, this wasn’t a real battle.

Overwhelmed with emotions, Nol instinctively turned to embrace his knight.

But when he saw the sky, his thoughts were instantly replaced by awe—

In the indigo night sky, stars twinkled. There should have been four identical moons overhead. But now, there were only four equally sized black holes.

The thing that had been blocking them moved away.

The next second, something stuck to them. But what returned wasn’t the gentle-colored “moon”, but gray-red, murky, moist chunks. They rotated for a moment, revealing four misshapen red pupils.

They stared directly at Nol and Teest.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 127: Beheaded

The night grew deeper, and it was unclear whether it was due to the Demon King’s influence or if nights near the Endless Sea were always this oppressive. There were no stars here, only varying shades of black—black seas, black soil, and the dark silhouettes of all things.

Only the pale sand and the dark red sky reflected a bit of light, a color combination that reminded Teest of corpses. Pale bones, dark red decaying flesh, and black blood—blood everywhere.

It was like the end of the world.

The pitch-black city ruins revolved silently and weightlessly around the Demon King, carrying a rich scent of destruction without stirring a single breeze. The shadows seemed surreal, yet their impact on Nol’s “firewall” felt unmistakably real.

The Demon King, curled up like a spider on the ground, emitted a silent wail. The strange shadows spewed out faster and faster, causing the ground to tremble incessantly. A giant teddy bear’s head rose from the sea, and sharp metallic debris sprouted from the sand like seeds. Countless rotten, bizarre wooden swords pierced through the soil, caught up in the frenzied shadows.

All this happened in utter silence. It was still a quiet night. The absurdity and chaos were like illusions, and the oppression was like a mountain collapsing.

Teest’s hair stood on end, his pores stinging as if pricked by needles, uncertain if it was fear or excitement.

His blood continued to flow from his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. The initial bloodstains had dried, clinging to his skin like leeches. But the dizziness—when looking directly at the Demon King—miraculously lessened a lot.

Now he could glance at the Demon King with his peripheral vision or quickly look away.

Such swift peeks didn’t bring the near-death pain as before. Teest vaguely felt something had changed inside him, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

Was it related to the corruption that had seeped into his body? Or the influence of learning the Demon King’s spell?

Either way, it wasn’t a power that could help him break through the predicament.

Teest habitually scanned his surroundings, trying to find a viable breakthrough.

He finally noticed the result of [King of Eternal Sleep]—a fragile, small shadow. Behind it, countless shadows whirled madly like a tornado, yet it stood still, waving its little hand at them.

Even if [King of Eternal Sleep] couldn’t kill the enemy, its effect shouldn’t be this mild. Or perhaps, theoretically, shadows weren’t living beings, so affixing a death tag was useless?

…He had seen one example of something “living” even after being “dead”. Teest couldn’t help but glance at Fischer, who was ashen-faced, hundreds of meters away.

Nol had said he couldn’t kill and enslave real undead beings. The Supplement Demons didn’t belong to the Tahe system, so his magic would have problems. This weird shadow in front of him surely couldn’t belong to Nol’s world.

Teest immediately brought up the [Necrotic Dominion] interface, and indeed, the number “1” had changed to “2.”

There was hope!

“Attack the Demon King!” Teest quickly issued the first command.

However, the small figure didn’t respond like the weeping Fischer. It scratched its face awkwardly and slowly shook its head.

“Can’t…” it said in a voice so faint it was almost inaudible, undoubtedly belonging to a child.

As soon as the shadow finished speaking, it began to disintegrate slowly, its outline becoming more distorted and its voice fluctuating between high and low. “But I can talk, walk…”

Teest was stunned. He didn’t know whether to marvel that this thing could actually communicate or lament the pitiful effect of his skill.

[What’s going on?!]

Nol struggled to hold up the firewall, as clumsy as using an umbrella against a typhoon.

The Demon King’s onslaught intensified, forcing him to concentrate his layers of “firewall” to one side of his body. If he dared retreat or attempt to escape, not just Teest but the other three behind them would be bombarded by the shadow army.

[I don’t know,] The Mad Monk responded dejectedly. [I seem to have commanded this thing, but not really. It only deigns to chat with me.]

Nol didn’t care about the bug Teest had unearthed. He directly addressed the shadow, “What are you?”

“A fragment of a dream.” The shadow pointed to the Demon King. “Its fragment…” After saying this, it dispersed like a soap bubble.

Teest: “……”

The good news, his [King of Eternal Sleep] could eliminate these abnormal shadows. The bad news, the shadows spewed from the Demon King’s head like arterial bleeding, and it took him several minutes to erase just one small shadow.

Nol seemed to be at his limit too—his continuous power consumption meant his lost claws and tail hadn’t regrown properly. He seemed to be back in The Manor, burning himself to withstand the impact.

But this time, even Teest couldn’t see a way out.

[I have an idea,] Nol said. [Teest, take those three and run in the opposite direction. I’ll lead the Demon King towards the Endless Sea. By creating distance, the Demon King’s influence on the terrain might be lifted.]

[You’ll die,] Teest replied bluntly.

[No, I will do my best to survive. I want to see you again.] Nol’s thoughts were serious and straightforward. [If you don’t leave, I can’t fight freely.]

[……] Alright, Nol sounded serious.

Unlike the time at The Manor, there was no calm acceptance of death in Nol’s tone. He truly wanted to minimize casualties and fight with all his might.

Even if he forcefully stayed, he couldn’t make Nol fight any harder.

It was undoubtedly a reasonable command, but… Teest reached out and touched the incomplete but warm dragon scales.

[Actually, I don’t like that undead knight,] Teest suddenly said.

[…What?]

[The War King ended his life meaninglessly, and he didn’t resist at all.] Facing the overwhelming scene of despair, Teest continued calmly, [He still missed his brother. What a foolish man.]

[Now I think I understand a bit. In the face of an invincible force, to follow one’s heart, one must do something foolish.]

It had nothing to do with promising life, logical advantages and disadvantages, or even the other’s wishes. He just didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to let that person sink—it was just that simple.

Nol, focusing ninety percent of his attention on defense, couldn’t quite grasp what Teest was trying to say, but he was sure his knight had no intention of obediently following orders.

Nol was frustrated. [I don’t need—]

Teest’s thoughts were louder. [I can’t hear you—]

He provocatively gathered the golden thread, leaping onto the dragon’s nose, allowing those blue dragon eyes to glare fiercely at him. Teest, covered in his own blood, initiated a high-level curse from the Eternal Church.

He slit his wrist, aimed towards the sky, and decisively summoned that giant hand from the shadows.

The magic fluctuations spread suddenly, the dark red sky rolling with clouds. The Demon King seemed to sense something, lifting its head slightly.

The next second, the cloud of darkness disappeared as if someone hastily packed it away in a panic. Teest couldn’t help but snicker.

“Whatever was summoned, it’s a coward,” Teest commented cheerfully.

His goal was achieved—in that brief moment, the Demon King was distracted by the anomaly in the sky, its attention diverted for a few seconds. And in those seconds, Teest cast [King of Eternal Sleep] on an especially tall building shadow.

It quieted down, no longer flailing and, naturally, no longer speaking. Teest barely controlled it, positioning it in front of the Dracolich.

While the building hadn’t vanished, Teest desperately drained his magic, controlling one shadow after another—they stacked haphazardly in front of Nol, forming a makeshift and alternative “shield”.

The shadows were insubstantial, unable to merge with their kind. The incoming twisted shadows hit this bizarre shadow shield and lightly bounced off.

Using the Demon King’s shadows to defend against shadows, he actually managed to hold off the attack.

Teest pulled out the mana potions he had accumulated over the years, gulping them down one after another. He recklessly used [King of Eternal Sleep] to keep the shield up as long as possible.

[Now you can think about your strategy, Lord Nol.]

Teest spat out a bottle, emphasizing the last few words. He sat on the dragon’s nose, directing the shield up and down, as if he planned to take root here.

[But my mana potions and stomach both have their limits. You should act quickly.]

Nol silently retracted the “firewall”, not engaging in futile arguments. That bit of warmth stubbornly clung to his nose tip, like a white spark that wasn’t too hot.

Time was limited. He had to make a decision quickly.

Taking Teest away meant no one to rescue the other three; running towards the Endless Sea was no longer the best option. If he didn’t lead the Demon King away, then he would have to… follow the Demon King’s wishes and destroy it.

Liking the Mad Monk for too long, Nol himself had gone a bit crazy, he thought somewhat helplessly.

After Teest’s defensive move, the originally quiet night gradually became lively.

Those shadows, freed from the Demon King’s control, would murmur a few words on their own. Some exclaimed in surprise, “Oh my,” many shouted, “It’s so high up here,” and a few vigorously waved at them, shouting, “Go for it.”

Then they would gradually dissipate amidst murmuring, and new ones moved in, continuing to repair the shadow shield.

“It’s so dark here…”

“The sky is red!”

“I really want to talk to someone.”

Whispers of the Demon King’s dream fragments.

The remnants of the old world attempted to penetrate the shadow attack, only to be pulled and collided by golden threads, collapsing to the ground.

Nol closed his eyes, pondering all his skills. Now he knew the enemy’s skills and characteristics. This was a game puzzle. He was best at this.

“Mom and Dad must be so worried.”

“How do I get home?”

“Help me. Help me.”

……

Having gained the relief of “death”, the remnants of the Demon King’s will were still whispering softly.

Surprisingly, although the Demon King was in a state of madness, it didn’t pounce again, nor did it use spells from the old worlds against them.

It merely threw remnants futilely, raising dreams… like a child wanting to cry and throw a tantrum but afraid to cause trouble and get scolded, only daring to throw nearby toys.

But those toys were deadly enough.

A giant toy bear stepped out of the sea. One of its eyes was loose, wobbling on the rotting fabric. Eaves and pavilions rose and collapsed. The pallid, mottled barrels of guns protruding out like barnacles from the fabric aimed at them.

Nol looked up, facing the oppressive force, and saw the six twitching light orbs above the Demon King’s head.

He couldn’t cheat with the letter opener this time, he thought. This was entirely not his world. Even if he severed the connection with it, the Demon King was still the Demon King—Tahe had only existed for two hundred years, while the Demon King had wandered this land for a thousand years.

A thousand years of solitude and decay, it had almost lost all reason, and only a trace of its former humanity remained… But even if it was just a trace, it was still there.

“I’m sorry. Being alone is too terrifying.”

“I don’t want to hurt my compatriot.”

“But being alone is too terrifying…”

Tall, short, fat, thin shadows each uttered a phrase, softly narrating the same will.

Even if it was wishful thinking, Nol still wanted to believe this was the Demon King suppressing itself, creating an opportunity for them… An opportunity to let it rest eternally.

The toy bear staggered closer, about to press down on them. Under the swaying, bloodthirsty wooden talismans, countless barrels aimed at the scar-ridden black dragon, their muzzles spinning wildly.

Nol closed his eyes.

He had an idea—cruel, direct, but effective.

With his magic, he could only use [Lullaby] to instantaneously move the target object a few meters away. But what if… What if he used two completely different forces on the same thing?

Nol reverted from his dragon form back to human. He kept some dragon scales and wings, deliberately using his elongated hair to cover his body. Teest rolled off and landed nimbly, winking at Nol, lowering the shield a bit.

Nol moved his remaining hand, pulling out Kando from the fallen pack.

“I know you’re still alive,” Nol said calmly. “Whether you’re just watching or your power is really suppressed, I need your spatial transfer—just a short distance. Can you do it?”

The candle’s single eye trembled weakly, barely opening a slit. “.…..”

Nol sighed. He extended his blood-drenched severed hand, pouring blood over the black candle. Dracolich’s blood, rich in magic, might help somewhat.

Nol, dragging his injured arm and leg, stumbled towards Teest. He placed his hand on the back of his knight’s neck and gave him a kiss, filled with the scent of blood.

“…Ten meters.” The candle flickered a bit of blue flame, mumbling softly. “At most ten meters, I can’t contend with the Demon King.”

“That’s enough.” Nol smiled bitterly.

“Ready?” Teest turned his head, his handsome face covered in blood and scars. “To be honest, I can’t hold on much longer.”

Nol dragged his injured arm and leg, stumbling towards Teest. He held the back of his knight’s neck, giving him a kiss full of the taste of blood.

“Honey, you taste like you’re about to commit murder,” After the kiss, Teest said breathlessly.

“Take care of yourself.” Nol forced a smile. He gripped the equally faint candle, trying to spread his wounded wings.

“I still prefer being within five meters.”

Teest reached out his equally scarred hand. “Don’t leave your knight behind, remember?”

“Of course.” Nol extended his broken arm. “I was just thinking of picking you up.”

“Ah, let me do it this time.”

Teest let go of most of the shadow shield, controlling only a few shadows close to him. He carried Nol on his back, rushing towards the Demon King. Nol hooked his injured arm around his neck as the magic staff ignited blue fire.

The blue fire formed a ring, not too big or small, just enough to encircle the Demon King’s neck.

He sadly glanced at the silently wailing Demon King and activated [Lullaby].

[Lullaby], forced the Demon King to move 10 meters north.

Kando teleportation, the fire ring around the neck, moved the Demon King 10 meters south.

…Both activated simultaneously.

---

The author has something to say:

Today’s vision:

Every day, when corporate worker Nol wakes up, his white big cat at home brings him a lot of freshly caught bugs*.

*Double meaning, as in bugs in a game/software/program ect..

Teest, the world’s best tester.jpg

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 126: Between Life and Death

[Player Teest, the system has detected that you have used “King of Sleep” 100 times.]

A female voice belonging to the system came through, sounding much steadier than before. [The skill “King of Sleep” has been detected as an illegal skill, causing numerous errors within the Player’s system. We request your cooperation for correction and to complete a test-type task.]

At such a time? 

Teest’s brows furrowed. Nol’s self-created skills were written haphazardly, and he even obtained the [Breath of a False God] right in front of Teest, but the system remained silent from beginning to end. Why was it that when it came to Teest, the system decided to cause trouble at a critical moment?

Teest had no way to forcibly shut down the system, so he had to continue patiently. The system’s blue pop-up window blurred in front of him, and the mission content was simple and crude.

[You have triggered a system patch quest: ????]

[Completion conditions: Within 30 minutes, use “King of Sleep” to slow down the Demon King’s actions and learn at least one of the Demon King’s spells.]

[Reward: System assistance in optimizing “King of Sleep”]

[Failure Penalty: Forced deletion of “King of Sleep” by the system]

[Quest automatically accepted]

Teest: “……”

He never thought there would come a day when the Mad Monk would be robbed by the system—the precious skill he had obtained now demanded to be relinquished.

Learning the Demon King’s magic was a task that seemed more suitable for a mage like Nol, so why did it become his quest? After all, why should he learn the Demon King’s magic?

Moreover, his succubus skill was obtained when he transformed into a Supplement Demon, indeed with dubious origins. Plus, exploiting loopholes to upgrade and break through the system, doubly dubious in origin. But it was just a supportive skill to weaken the enemy. Was it necessary to confiscate it?

Teest had many questions with nowhere to ask. He gritted his teeth and chose the method he was most accustomed to—doing his utmost to protect his precious possessions. Whether it was skills, treasures, or beliefs.

The “Festival of New Green” wedged into dragon scales and golden threads wrapped around the dragon’s horns. Teest leaped down from a high place while bombarding the Demon King with [King of Sleep].

The silver-white figure swept past him, startling Nol. In this dire battle situation, he wished he could literally hold Teest in his mouth to prevent him from being slapped to death by the Demon King. Yet, not only did Teest not avoid it, but he also leaped towards the Demon King.

Nol recognized the magic fluctuations of [King of Sleep]. The Demon King’s movements did indeed slow down—but it was just the difference between 1x speed and 0.9x speed.

The Demon King wasn’t known for agility, so such weakening was like a drop in the bucket. But Teest still crazily bombarded the Demon King with magic, leaping towards the Demon King like a light feather.

Nol hesitated for less than half a second before giving up the thought of asking. Teest wasn’t corrupted, so he must have his own ideas. Contacting him abruptly now might distract him and worsen the situation.

He focused his energy on contending with the Demon King. The “Festival of New Green” was delivered, and three people in the distance solved his urgent need. But as a price, on the land rampant with corruption, those three wouldn’t last long.

Near the head of the Demon King, figures of different shapes continuously emerged. They appeared lightly, were blocked by the “firewall”, and then suppressed by purification magic, only to freeze in place.

The Demon King seemed to realize the problem. It ignored the humanoid figures that flowed out of its head like blood and instead stretched out a hand, clasped it to its chest, and bent its body as if bowing.

It completely ignored Teest, who was fluttering like snowflakes. Unknown spells spread wave after wave, easily crossing the “firewall” and striking directly at Nol’s body.

In that instant, Nol’s brain boiled. It was as if his entire body was pressed into boiling water, instinctively wanting to curl up, almost losing consciousness.

In the first second of his mental shake, the surrounding “firewall” also weakened. In Nol’s blurry vision, the Demon King stretched out six arms towards him, grabbing at him. On its trajectory, there was a small white dot.

Teest.

Teest’s golden thread was probably tied to his dragon horns. Nol suddenly moved, affecting the Mad Monk’s trajectory. If this continued, Teest would be directly hit by the Demon King… He had to stop the Demon King…

In his chaotic thoughts, Nol made the most instinctive response—he decisively withdrew the “firewall” and actively pounced on the Demon King, biting the arm closest to Teest.

The corruption surged up, and Nol’s pitiful 100 HP nearly bottomed out. He barely saved his life by forcefully casting a healing spell and adding 60% lifesteal from [Crimson Plunder].

The taste of the Demon King was strange enough. Nol bit down hard on that arm, dazedly thinking. He remembered the old-fashioned cotton candy he had eaten as a child—seemingly large, but biting into it was utterly void, like air.

Ding.

[Fallen Death has been activated, successfully acquiring the following skills:]

[Lullaby: Full of loving thoughts, the beginning of all dreams, your dream will become reality.

※This skill is limited to the ‘Supreme Creator’ use only.]

[Do you want to save the above skill? [Saved Skills: 3/3]]

Nol didn’t have time to look closely, almost reflexively choosing ‘Yes’. His stats surged wildly, almost reaching the limit set for ‘dragons’. Watching the numbers jump, Nol realized a terrifying fact—

The skill [Fallen Death] only worked on corpses.

The Demon King was strong enough to interfere with the system to a certain extent, making the system’s judgment even stricter, leaving no room for loopholes.

The Demon King in front of him… was already dead?

Although Nol had a vague psychological preparation when he saw skills like [Lost Last Wish] and [Corrupted False God], when it came to confirming this moment, his chest still felt heavy.

Even so, he didn’t let go. The Demon King’s magical attacks were continuous, and the pain from the corruption damage fluctuated his health bar up and down.

[…Discovered a skill of similar origin. Would you like to merge ‘To My Compatriots’ and ‘Lullaby’?]

[Note: Merging can generate a new skill. The new skill will retain the skill’s origin; other changes are unpredictable. Please choose carefully.]

This time Nol didn’t hastily agree but instead used ‘Lullaby’ to overwrite the low-level skill [Sniff].

Before merging, he must first try this new skill. Now at a dead end, he couldn’t miss any possibility—although he wasn’t sure if he qualified as the ‘Supreme Creator’.

Nol activated [Lullaby].

The dim and gloomy blood night instantly lit up, and rugged blue-white grids and cursors appeared on the surface of everything. With Nol as the center, everything around him turned into a strange “editable mode” in his eyes. It was like sitting in front of a computer, directly adjusting the environmental details of “Tahe”.

At the same time, his MP value gushed out like a major artery had been cut. Nol painfully severed his tail, converting it all into mana to avoid being drained completely.

As the thick dragon tail rapidly disappeared, Nol’s scalp numbed, and he clumsily “moved” the Demon King, just trying to distance himself.

The moment the edit was completed, the Demon King really teleported dozens of meters away out of thin air.

Nol quickly adjusted his posture. Making sure Teest’s figure was still actively bouncing around, he restarted the “firewall” and cast several healing spells on himself, barely stabilizing the situation. The Demon King, puzzled by the sudden displacement, froze in place, and its headache-inducing spells also stopped.

Nol opened his mouth, stained with corruption, and took a long breath.

At this point, he could confirm three things.

First, the system recognized him as the “Supreme Creator”.

Second, [Lullaby] was undoubtedly a terrifying skill. Nol suspected that the continuously emerging shadows above the Demon King’s head and the abnormal terrain around him were the effects of this skill.

Third…

The power of the world that had passed away, skill descriptions filled with despair from corruption, the power of creation from nothing, the status of the “Supreme Creator” like himself…

The answer was clear.

“You, no, you…” Nol continued in his native language, trying to awaken the Demon King opposite him. “Are you the creators of those three worlds? I am like you. We shouldn’t be enemies!”

Hearing his words, the Demon King began to go mad again. Its body spasmed like a puppet, and from its pitch-black face came a blurred roar—or moan, Nol wasn’t sure.

[Regrettably, the cries for help have vanished, and you can only chase the echoes.]

[Lost Last Wish] once described it like this.

The Demon King was already dead, and what was active now, in a sense, was similar to an undead creature—almost as lost, almost as silent, almost as mad.

The sky was dim, and the Demon King almost merged into the night. Above its head hazily hung four moons, leaving only a halo of light.

The moon…

It was just a flash of inspiration. Nol held his breath and cast [Remembrance of the Dead] on the Demon King—

The spell he had made for the Death Knight, the magic that could restore the dead to brief lucidity.

Nol’s nose and mouth were bleeding profusely, but he kept staring at the six light spots on the Demon King’s head. “Don’t distort. It must work, please… Please, let him hear.”

A blue-green halo flickered from under the Demon King’s feet, spiraling upwards. The Demon King froze, its six head lights spinning chaotically, sometimes large, sometimes small.

“Ah… I…”

It emitted a cold, terrifying, noise-like sound, different from [Lost Last Wish] processed voice. That language, undoubtedly, was also the language of Country C.

It really was his compatriot. It had once been his compatriot.

“I don’t… I don’t want… to die like this… My family… is still waiting for me…”

“Can you hear my voice?” Nol asked, his limbs icy, squeezing out the words from his throat.

“Don’t hurt me… Don’t hurt me… Save me…”

“I won’t hurt you!” Nol quickly responded. “You… Can you go back across the sea first? I will find a way, I promise—”

“Kill me…” The Demon King, not knowing if it understood, stopped at a distance, extending its spider-like arms towards Nol. “Kill me… Kill me…”

These were the “last wishes” Nol had heard and made his heart sink. “Do you still remember your own name?”

“Kill me… Kill me… Kill me…”

The Demon King just kept repeating these words, its tone high and unvarying, like a looped voicemail.

“I will help you.” Nol set up a “firewall” with bitterness in his mouth. “Please… talk to me. Tens of thousands of our compatriots are trapped in my world. We all want to go home…”

Hearing the last word, the Demon King’s murmuring abruptly stopped.

“Home…” It confusedly lowered its arms.

Near its head, the swirling figures disappeared. The Demon King sat quietly on the dark ground, blankly staring at the four moons overhead.

“I can’t go back…” It let out a pitch-shifted sigh. “Over two thousand years… I can’t return…”

“Two thousand years… Mother…”

“Please… Kill me…”

The last sentence had less mechanical repetition but was filled with ash-like despair, like a dying old man in pain, wishing for a quick death.

“Please… kill me…”

“Take my… bones… home…”

After death, a person’s traces gradually disappear. If an undead knight could retain a bit of reason after two hundred years, then what was left of a person after two thousand years of loneliness?

“I want… to go home…”

“I want to go home…”

“Home…”

The Demon King kept repeating, in a language not of this land, echoing on a land where it shouldn’t exist.

Nol gazed blankly at his compatriot’s “corpse”, forgetting to flee in those brief seconds.

……

At first, Teest wanted to learn that shadow-emitting magic from the Demon King’s head—after all, it was the only magic the Demon King had shown, no matter how impractical.

But it was extremely complex, the power fluctuations more intricate than the gears in a clock. Teest tried to imitate it but couldn’t even grasp the basics.

With the mission countdown looming over his head, Teest dared not delay and continued to maintain [King of Sleep].

Soon, his opportunity arrived.

The Demon King used some kind of psychic shock on Nol, causing Nol’s “firewall” to destabilize. Teest desperately suppressed his desire to run back, focusing on the new spell’s fluctuations.

He wouldn’t be of any use if he went back, the Mad Monk coldly reminded himself. He needed to be more useful.

Fortunately, this attack spell was simple and brutal. Teest memorized its fluctuation characteristics and repeatedly tried to recreate it from scratch using his own power—

Failure. Failure. Failure.

Failure. Failure.

……

Still failure.

It was like trying to make a necklace from sand or forge a blade from solid ice. He could only mimic the form; the power dissipated in an instant, and he couldn’t get it to work. He knew the problem.

[Human beings can never reach the strength of monsters. It’s predestined.]

The teachings of the Eternal Church from his youth echoed in his mind. [Some rare magics can only be used by beings with specific physiques. No matter how strong a human is, he can’t breathe dragon fire or sing a siren’s song—God allows you to fuse with monsters, to become closer to them, to obtain this unique power…]

And Teest also knew the solution to this problem.

He needed to risk his life for this task.

You’re crazy, Teest’s rationality screamed in his head. Nol is busy fighting the Demon King and has no time to notice what you’re doing—you’re here risking your life against thin air, who knows? It’s just a weakened magic, if lost, then lost. Even if Nol knew about this, he would definitely tell you to abandon the task, knowing his soft heart.

Now he can’t see you, no one can see you, no one knows you have a solution. You just need to retreat, go back to his side…

“Ah,” Teest muttered to the murky night. “But if I lose the best support method, I, as a knight, would be too ashamed.”

He didn’t dodge the stiff shadows anymore. This time, Teest extended his hand and actively embraced the corruption.

There was a purification magic suppressing around, so the corruption spread slowly. The Mad Monk imitated the simple fluctuation again and again, the corruption devouring his fingertips, emitting a rotting stench.

This time there was a slight effect, he thought, but still not enough…

Teest swung forward, his arm passing through the gushing shadows.

The corruption devoured his arm, causing the flesh to rot alive, which made it a bit troublesome.

The unknown spell, like a newly oiled machine, gradually strengthened its fluctuation, running more smoothly while he was still conscious…

Teest plunged into the darkness again.

His limbs were completely engulfed by the corruption, only his head and chest remaining normal colored. Excruciating pain and weakness assaulted him from both sides, nearly causing him to faint. Realizing this, Teest desperately leapt in the air, pretending to be fine.

Practice, endure, practice again, endure again. The corruption brought pain unbearable for a normal person, but luckily, he had spent nearly ten years getting used to such experiences.

Finally, a magical fluctuation identical to the Demon King’s appeared, black light spreading between his rotting fingers.

At that moment, the corruption just reached his throat.

He succeeded.

The strength of the spell couldn’t compare to the Demon King’s, but they were identical.

Suddenly, a burst of static noise filled his mind. Teest tensed his body but didn’t hear the system’s “skill acquired” notification.

At the same time, the Demon King stopped moving. Nol was saying something to it, but Teest didn’t have the strength to listen anymore. His senses were almost gone, climbing towards the dragon’s head on instinct—the surrounding purification magic couldn’t suppress his corruption anymore. He needed to quickly touch the “Festival of New Green”…

[You have completed the system patch quest: ?????]

[You have met the task “?????” completion condition: Within 30 minutes, use “King of Sleep” to slow down the Demon King’s actions and learn at least one of the Demon King’s spells.]

[Quest Reward: System assists in optimizing “King of Sleep”.]

Teest, bearing the system’s somewhat belated notification, clumsily climbed up the dragon’s horn.

[Beginning optimization…]

[Circuit fusion in progress… Individual feature adaptation in progress… Skill modification in progress…]

[Quest reward processed.]

Teest’s trembling hand reached towards the “Festival of New Green,” stopping less than two fingers away.

His pain disappeared.

The corruption didn’t disappear with it; it became a part of him, deeply infiltrating his skin and bones—this feeling was bizarre, like becoming a monster again, but the process was much gentler.

[King of Eternal Sleep: You will lure all things towards destruction, granting enemies death.]

[Note, this skill has exceeded the system’s management authority. Actual effects may vary.]

Teest lay on the dragon’s head. “…Fuck.”

He couldn’t judge his condition, nor could he see how to use this skill. But Teest knew, no matter how powerful the skill seemed, it couldn’t just be “glare and they die”.

He placed his hand on the “Festival of New Green”, regaining some strength. Teest didn’t interrupt Nol and the Demon King’s conversation, swinging again along the golden thread, throwing a [King of Eternal Sleep] at the nearest shadow.

At the same moment.

“I will take you home.” Nol regained his senses, trying to soothe the Demon King. “Think… Can you remember your name? I need to know your name to take you back.”

A name represented part of a life. If the Demon King could remember more, maybe he could bring back more information…

The Demon King began to move again. Its six light orbs atop its head spun wildly, the cold hostility returning, even more intense than before.

Who would have thought, in just two or three minutes, the supposed half-hour effective [Remembrance of the Dead] had failed.

Nol gritted his teeth, erecting the barrier again.

This time, things didn’t go so smoothly. The Demon King went berserk with countless things erupting from its head—apart from endless crowds, there were also deformed high-rises, vehicles, and trees. It was like a city stuffed into an uncovered blender, debris crazily spewing out.

Those twisted silhouettes surged like a tsunami. Nol quickly scanned the surroundings, checking Teest’s condition.

In less than a second, Nol successfully located Teest. His little knight was hanging under his left front paw, face-to-face with a shadow.

Amidst the chaotic city debris, the child’s shadow stood still, looking up.

It waved at them obediently, as if greeting.

---

The author has something to say:

Not bad, not bad.

Laughing to death, while writing Teest’s skill. I thought of instant noodle packaging… actual product may vary! Not that much beef (.

Both got new skills!

But still being heavily attacked…

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 125: Deadlock

Merely glancing at it, Nol felt as though he was struck by an invisible hammer, plummeting from mid-air to the ground. His head buzzed and his vision blurred like beaten egg drop soup, taking a while to regain focus.

In just that moment, Nol was certain that this was an opponent they couldn’t handle right now.

The oppression from the awakened Demon King was incomparably stronger than when it was asleep.

If he had to describe the feeling at that moment… It was like a newbie in a game accidentally entering the highest-level map and being lightly hit by the boss. That sense of despair, with damage exceeding the health bar by thousands of times, now bit down hard on Nol.

Ignoring the black-red blood flowing from his mouth and nose and the intense pain in his front claws, he struggled to his feet, hurling purification magic at the shadowy figures.

A brief vacuum appeared around Anakin, and in the next instant, the Mad Monk’s golden thread shot over.

The thread wrapped around Anakin’s wrist, pulling her towards the main group. Teest acted quickly, successfully pulling Anakin under the dragon’s claw, where Painter grabbed her clothes, clinging to Nol’s claw.

Nol immediately spread his wings, ready to fly away from the Demon King—although it seemed like an “isolated island”, the farther they were, the safer.

The giant dragon’s wings stirred up a wild wind. The shadowy figures raised their heads as dry branches and leaves easily passed through their bodies. Just as Nol was about to take off, his claw suddenly sank.

A huge shadow hand grabbed his hind claw, bringing indescribable cold and pain. Nol struggled, flapping his wings hard, his vision once again sweeping past the Demon King’s position—

The Demon King had vanished.

Nol’s heart skipped a beat. He lowered his body, and his gaze met the Demon King below. The creature extended a twisted arm, tightly gripping Nol’s hind claw, its six pale light spots spinning chaotically.

It had teleported there.

Seeing no escape from the Demon King, Nol suddenly exerted force, flinging the four people on him far away. Painter protected the still unconscious Anakin, Fischer adjusted his position in time, and the three landed steadily hundreds of meters away.

Teest, clinging to the dragon horn, stubbornly remained on the black dragon.

“Worthy of being the two gods’ adversary,” Teest said, looking down at the Demon King unconcernedly, blood flowing from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

He knew it!

Nol dissolved the flesh on his hind claw. The bones scattered, and he endured the pain of regeneration before flapping his wings again. The Demon King crawled out of the soil in an unimaginable posture, climbing up through the air.

Its six deformed arms opened wide, and its lower body was full of swollen black tumors. It hovered in mid-air, resembling a broken spider on an invisible web in the center.

The black dragon was almost enveloped in this deformed “embrace”, and compared to the gigantic Demon King, the Dracolich’s massive body seemed petite.

His nostrils were filled with the strong smell of the sea and decay. The corruption surged, and the temperature dropped so low that wounds started to freeze.

Nol’s head throbbed dizzily, realizing that losing his claws didn’t solve the problem—high-concentration corruption spread along his bones. The snow-white skeleton gradually turned black. The pain was like being flayed alive. Nol’s eyes darkened with agony, almost falling again.

Near the Demon King’s head, figures continuously emerged. They opened their arms, embracing Nol, seemingly having lost all interest in Anakin.

Damn it. Besides Anakin, there was another Earthling here—himself!

Nol tried his best to erect a protective shield, attempting to activate [To My Compatriots], but the Demon King showed no reaction.

Tap, tap.

Curiously, the Demon King bent a finger and tapped on Nol’s protective shield. Then, with a “crack,” the Demon King’s finger easily broke through Nol’s full-strength protection, as if piercing through a wet piece of paper.

The dry, black finger slowly pulled down, peeling away the shield layer by layer. Nol had felt this kind of despair before, but the power difference between him and the Demon King was far greater than a newbie facing Lich Valdorlock.

Now, Nol had to admit, Knight Eugene’s judgment was spot on; this reconnaissance was necessary.

The unique terrain of the Brick Mountains somewhat contained the spread of corruption. If the Demon King crossed the Brick Mountains, Nol couldn’t think of anyone who could stop it—with Earth Players spread across every country, the Demon King would have to traverse all the lands. And wherever it passed, only corruption, darkness, and death would remain.

They must quickly bring this information back, gather the elite forces near the Brick Mountains, and protect this natural fortress… The problem was, they needed to survive first to deliver the message.

Stay calm.

Ignoring the pain, Nol racked his brain. This was just an exploration. He could come up with a solution. There must be other ways…

In the cold corruption, he felt a bit of warmth on his forehead. Teest, having just wiped the blood off his face, casually patted the Dracolich’s head.

[This opponent is more interesting than the Eternalists. I haven’t felt this way in years.] Teest swallowed a mouthful of blood, grinning. [Let’s have some fun together, Lord Nol.]

Only the Mad Monk could turn the simple message of “I’m with you” into such a lengthy statement. Ignoring the severe pain in his claw, Nol wrapped them in layer upon layer of protective shields. [You’ve killed countless. Any inspiration?]

[I was just thinking, if those legends are true—the two gods joined forces against this thing, and now we two are up against it. It’s quite poignant.]

Wow, such a grand statement, as if they weren’t desperately fleeing for their lives—

Outside the shield, the Demon King twisted its shadow-like limbs, patiently unwrapping layer after layer of protection, like a five-year-old excitedly unwrapping zongzi. They didn’t have much time left to think of a plan.

[Speaking of which, I personally don’t have experience dealing with ‘gods’. But I don’t want to die here either. Save me, dear Lord Nol—]

Teest’s tone was soft and sweet, but the killing intent on his body was growing stronger. He stared unblinkingly at the gap in the shield while golden threads sparkled between his fingers.

Such a frivolous fellow. Nol almost wanted to laugh. The intense pain blurred his vision for a moment.

All his considered plans, ABCD, none had worked.

[To My Compatriots] had no effect on the Demon King, and Kando’s spatial movement was directly blocked. They were firmly trapped by the Demon King, and transfer magic was distorted.

All escape routes were blocked, but to stay and fight, their power was no match for the Demon King.

It was a matter of life and death. Facing the Demon King, the system should at least give him a task like [Seal the Demon King]. The system had always been active in matters related to the Demon King… Wait, the system?

Nol turned his bloodshot eyes, scanning the distorted terrain and the bizarre behavior of the shadows, and finally stopping at his front claw, injured by the strange wooden talisman.

The environment twisted by the Demon King was a power not belonging to this world.

They were invaders of this world.

…Invaders of Tahe.

Runes. As the Demon King’s hand drew closer, Nol tensed up. He burned away his injured front claw, turning the resultant magic power into a line.

[SE125839156]

The moment the pale blue characters formed, a burst of blue fire exploded, mixing with the noisy system notification echoing in Nol’s mind. It was blurry and distant, but definitely there—

[Emergency. High-performance firewall initiating. Special data freezing…]

[Freeze failed]

[Emergency. High-performance firewall initiating. Special data freezing…]

[Freeze failed]

[Emergency. High-performance firewall initiating. Special data freezing…]

[Freeze failed]

…..

Accompanied by a piercing sizzle, hundreds of semi-transparent blue pop-ups appeared in front of the Demon King’s palm.

The pop-ups had no writing, just a giant warning symbol in the center. Its colors were murky and constantly flickering, multiplying ceaselessly. The moment the Demon King’s dark fingertip touched the pop-up, a terrifying black spark flashed. It recoiled in pain, retreating slightly.

The pop-ups kept appearing around Nol, almost enveloping him completely. The wall of pop-ups diminished the Demon King’s oppressive aura slightly, giving Nol, dragging his two injured claws, a moment to breathe.

Before he could fully catch his breath, as if afraid that Nol would escape, the Demon King embraced him again recklessly. Black sparks ignited once more, this time seemingly without pain, forcibly piercing through the wall of pop-ups.

“Hey!”

Nol switched to Mandarin, shouting directly at the Demon King. “What exactly do you want? Did you send the message ‘Please kill me’?”

“Can you understand me? You—”

Hearing Nol’s call, the Demon King halted its movements, then suddenly intensified its actions. The pop-ups sliced through countless shadow fragments, but it pushed forward with all its might, wildly flailing its arms. Nol focused on controlling the “firewall”, not daring to make any superfluous movements.

Tiny black figures came from all directions, charging at the blue pop-ups and banging against them with their bodies.

[Emergency. High-performance firewall initiating. Special data freezing…]

[Freeze failed]

[Freeze failed]

[Freeze failed]

……

The system announcement continuously sounded, then suddenly, they all turned from normal blue to bright red, the edges flashing even more exaggeratedly.

[Warning. Operation ineffective. Overload. To avoid complete program collapse, protective program will restart in thirty seconds. 30, 29, 28…]

No good. The Demon King was almost touching their faces. If the defense collapsed at this moment, even if it was just a one-second restart, both he and Teest would be undoubtedly obliterated.

……

Several hundred meters away, Painter removed his hand from Anakin’s forehead.

His right arm had turned completely black, rotten as if it were a corpse left in the summer heat for ten days, with corruption crazily burrowing under his skin. A tourniquet was already tied around Painter’s shoulder, and he stood up, giving Fischer a look.

Fischer spat, and with a swipe of two fingers, a jet of black blood sprayed into the air as Painter’s arm was completely severed. The next second, Painter pressed the “Festival of New Green” onto the wound.

New bone, flesh, and skin grew at the severed site. The arm was healthy and strong, slightly lighter in color than the rest of his body, but otherwise normal.

For a living creature, the pain of limb regeneration was akin to being torn apart. Painter’s lips turned white from pain, and his face was covered in cold sweat.

“The Temple’s magic is still so dull,” Fischer said coldly. “With this ability, why didn’t you save a few people at the camp?”

“Those kids have been here too long and absorbed much corruption in their bodies. If I absorb their corruption, I might end up with nothing but a clean brain left.”

Painter flexed his newly grown arm, maintaining the powerful purification magic around them. “I think Sir Eugene would happily chop it off—guess what would happen if my head got chopped off?”

Fischer: “…You’d die?”

“Very smart!” Painter exclaimed.

Fischer’s facial muscles twitched, but he refrained from hitting this ace of purification. He ruthlessly summoned a ball of ice water and threw it at Anakin’s face. She coughed twice, waking up confused.

“Mom, dinner…” She called out in her mother tongue, puzzled.

“Awake?” Fischer asked with a cold tone. “Get up quickly. Without another purification class, we can’t even reach the front line.”

Anakin propped herself up, looking around. Her eyes slowly reddened. “…I knew it was a dream.”

“How’s the situation?” A few seconds later, she sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

“Not good. Those two are surrounded.”

Fischer squinted through cursed vision, staring into the distance—he had tried looking directly at the Demon King, and just that glimpse made him lose a few seconds of sanity and cause his head to split with pain.

“In addition to the Demon King, those shadows are attacking… I don’t recognize that protective magic, but it looks like it’s about to fail.”

“I suggest we focus on self-preservation, not adding trouble for those two. It’s not a battle we can interfere with,” Fischer added somewhat despondently.

Before, he thought the two Popes of Life and Eternal were the pinnacle of combat power in the world, even capable of battling dragons. Now it seemed, the peak in his mind was just an insignificant mound.

“That’s a bit disappointing to hear.” Painter shook his head. “You can’t even match that one, and you don’t have the confidence to chase the Mad Monk?”

“I’m not good at fighting!” Fischer retorted. “I’m an observer… Wait a minute.”

He looked at Painter incredulously, fear creeping into his eyes. “You wouldn’t…”

“Exactly what you’re thinking, ‘Eye of the Storm’.”

Painter stroked his chin. “You bring the ‘Festival of New Green’ to those two, and Miss Anakin and I will jointly cast the top-tier [Kiss of the Goddess]. Using that gem as a medium, the effect should be excellent.”

“‘Eye of the Storm’ will only allow me to avoid some damage. I’m not immortal!” Fischer’s face turned ashen. “Besides, if we cast purification there, wouldn’t you two be defenseless…”

“The ‘Saint’ and ‘Flawless’ naturally have resistance. We can also avoid some damage. Of course, if we’re exposed for too long, we’ll definitely die.”

Painter sighed. “But I’m certain of one thing—if those two over there die, we definitely won’t survive. Isn’t it better to take a chance?”

Fischer’s face turned from green to white, silent for a full two minutes before grabbing Anakin’s wand.

“If it weren’t for my God…” he muttered through gritted teeth. “My God… ugh…”

The siren clutched the wand, cursing as he ran towards the center of the battlefield. Splashes of black shadow fragments flew past him but seemed to be blown away by an invisible wind, not touching him.

As soon as the “Festival of New Green” moved away, the surrounding area grew colder. As if countless invisible insects were biting at her skin, Anakin instinctively clenched her hands. Her originally fair skin gradually turned dark gray.

“I’m sorry, miss.” Painter turned to Anakin. His right hand hadn’t fully recovered and had exposed red muscles. “You were mentally unstable just now, and we’re short on time, so I took the liberty.”

“You’re… right.” Anakin’s voice still sounded dazed, but her hands were already prepared for casting. “We have no choice.”

Fischer staggered, struggling to avoid numerous black shadows, barely reaching Nol’s vicinity. He held up the large green gemstone, throwing it forcefully towards Teest on the dragon’s head.

A golden thread wrapped around the emerald, and Teest deftly caught the gemstone.

At the same time, Painter and Anakin, not far away, raised their right hands, chanting complex spells in unison. Having completed his task, Fischer didn’t stay put. He hugged his head and stumbled back, dog-paddling his way back.

Painter raised his eyebrows in surprise.

He had thought the High Priest would hide in the purification zone.

“Just like you said, maximize efficiency—I can only do my best. Don’t expect too much.” Fischer glared at him, holding his hands to his chest, and began chanting the piercing incantation as well.

Wisps of corruption emerged from their bodies, converging above Fischer’s hands—a trick of the Eternal Church to collect curses and corruption, though somewhat slow.

…But effective.

…..

[15, 14, 13…]

The countdown continued as Nol desperately tried to purify the corruption, trying to disperse those deadly little shadows. Unfortunately, multitasking was ineffective. He managed the purification and the “firewall” with limited success.

The “firewall” was overloaded, and the system’s countdown continued.

Teest could hear the countdown as well.

He had already tried attacking the shadows with golden threads, but they turned black and rotted upon contact with the shadows. The Death Knight wasn’t skilled in magical attacks, and even if it were, he didn’t have any purification spells.

Furthermore, everything that could die here had already died, rendering his profession’s traits useless.

While Nol could still stand against the Demon King, Teest himself was powerless.

Now, it seemed Nol was more like his knight. Teest retracted the golden thread with a pout, wiping off the relentless blood—whether from corruption or blood loss, he was starting to feel dizzy.

“Ah, this feels terrible,” he muttered silently.

[10, 9, 8…]

With no strategy to handle the Demon King, Teest narrowed his eyes at those annoying shadows. After a moment of thought, he used his only “beyond the system” magic—

[King of Sleep]

The magic spread among the dense shadows, with less-than-ideal effects. Their movements slowed down a bit, but they continued, not falling asleep like the warriors of the War King.

Truly the army of the Demon King.

Teest, like a beast lurking in the bushes, assessed the situation beneath him, continuously casting [King of Sleep].

Skill proficiency could strengthen it a bit. As for the rest, he could…

[5, 4, 3…]

“My God!”

An annoying voice called out, and a green light entered Teest’s vision. The golden thread shot out, firmly hooking the incoming gemstone.

The next second, a burst of white-gold light exploded.

The powerful purification magic activated, pushing the surrounding shadows back several meters, leaving only the Demon King in place. The golden light barrier, like a city wall, kept the army of shadows at bay.

The system’s countdown abruptly stopped.

Nol’s body relaxed slightly. The red pop-ups turned blue again, holding a standoff with the Demon King. Teest coughed up a clot of blood. His [King of Sleep] continued relentlessly, this time targeting the Demon King itself.

At that moment, the system’s voice resonated in Teest’s mind.

It was too clear—not coming from Nol, but a message for him.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 124: Desolation Island

Nol wasn’t the only one surprised.

They were too close to the Demon King. The corruption was so intense that it nearly turned the air gelatinous. Anakin and Painter had to fully activate their purification magic just to avoid the condition of “language disorder”.

Even busy as she was, Anakin couldn’t help but say, “It… doesn’t seem hostile?”

It was simply sleeping, covering the sky and earth, with silhouettes of various sizes occasionally emerging from its head. They played and chased each other, running into the distance and gradually disappearing.

But no one dared to underestimate them—the entity that single-handedly defeated the Saints Guild elite team might just be something like this.

Nol preemptively strengthened his invisibility magic.

Fischer was unusually quiet. “We don’t have any records of the Demon King’s appearance on our side. According to the documents, its desire to attack is strong.”

“It’s similar at the Temple,” Painter whispered. “In the battle against the Demon King, it’s said to be a war between the Demon King and the two gods, with almost no witnesses. The Demon King’s corruption is indeed terrifying, but the Demon King looking like this…”

It was hard to associate this sleeping giant with “strong aggression”.

“It traveled all the way from Desolation Island, crossing the ocean, just to sleep here?” Teest pointed out bluntly.

“But it doesn’t seem in a hurry to move, I mean, as of now,” Anakin added, puzzled.

No one questioned its identity as the Demon King; its oppressive presence was too strong—even though it appeared as a dark mass, Nol couldn’t dare to look at it for too long. His instincts screamed non-stop, warning him “that is something from another level”.

He wanted to leave, not out of fear but more out of an instinctive desire to stay away from a poisonous spider. Just standing near it made Nol inexplicably anxious.

A small silhouette ran towards Nol, playing with a ball. It chased the invisible ball, happily skimming past Nol’s feet, leaving no trace in the fine white sand.

The Demon King’s will, the Demon King’s “army”—everything was so bizarre. How could one judge this?

“Let’s retreat.” It was getting late, and Nol made a cautious decision. “Now that we know where it is, it’s best to observe from a distance…”

As he spoke, he suddenly felt a chill at the back of his head, as if someone was staring at him intensely.

The small figure playing with the ball stopped two steps away from Nol.

It held its hands over its chest, firmly grasping the nonexistent ball. Its face, devoid of features, slightly lifted to look in their direction.

How could this be?

Teest’s hidden presence, his invisibility, plus some degree of protection from the A Midsummer Night’s Dream, along with the Pope-level holy protection magic. Across the entire continent of Tahe, it would be hard to find a scouting team with such strong defenses.

Yet, the figure looked at them through all the magic, undoubtedly scrutinizing them.

“Go!” Nol decided on the spot.

He didn’t dare to be overconfident and planned to immediately initiate a mid-range group teleportation. The magic’s brilliant light flickered, and the scroll turned to ash, but they remained in the same place. Unlike the anti-magic state in The Manor, his magic seemed like a program with a sudden bug, completely non-functional.

On the beach, more shadows playing stopped their activities. They slowly turned towards Nol’s direction, motionless, “watching”. Their actions awkwardly froze in the air, like frames extracted from a movie.

To anyone, this situation was spine-chilling.

Each of them was a seasoned warrior; the five people ran without a second thought. Fortunately, the shadows didn’t follow. They remained on the beach, stiffly looking around.

Nol remembered the way they came, and the group rushed through the dry branches toward the camp.

They had at least discovered the situation, and now it was time to quickly escape with the elite team. At worst, he would knock out the key people, transform back into a dragon, and carry a whole bundle of people to safety.

According to the distance calculations, the camp should be ahead. Nol quickened his pace and was about to signal the others when he suddenly stopped.

His stop was so abrupt that Teest almost collided with him.

He saw another figure.

A small child, holding a non-existent ball.

In the darkness, it stood at the junction of the forest and the beach, quietly watching the group. Behind it, they could faintly see the pale beach and the sleeping Demon King.

They had returned to the beach.

Nol always had a good memory. He remembered every clear marker on the way and was sure there was no deviation in their path… This was impossible. Since entering Brick Shadow, Nol hadn’t noticed any spatial anomalies.

Nol drew his staff in one swift motion—he had originally been cautious about the nearby corruption, not wanting to directly pierce through space. Now, being targeted by the Demon King, he couldn’t care less.

But this time, Kando’s blue flame was nowhere to be found. Unbeknownst to him, the black candle had completely extinguished, and the single eye had closed. If not for the occasional movement of the eyeball under the eyelid, Nol would have suspected it was dead.

Even space couldn’t be penetrated.

Nol’s back ripped open as a pair of dragon wings pierced through his long robe. He swiftly scooped up Teest, who was on high alert, and soared into the sky.

Nol was shorter than Teest, who never expected to be swept off his feet like this. Teest wrapped an arm around Nol’s neck. His long hair whipped in the wind while his succubus tail tightly coiled around Nol’s waist. “What are you doing—?”

“The stats bonus of the Betrayal Overture,” Nol replied as he ascended. “It’s dangerous for us to be apart right now.”

After the air grew significantly colder, Nol finally halted his ascent. He looked down, observing the terrain beneath them.

“Damn,” Teest hissed through clenched teeth.

Under the dark red sky of the night, they saw a small, round, solitary island. It was pale and mottled, just like the four moons in the sky.

The forest was still the same, but its surroundings had turned into white sand beaches, and beyond was an endless gray-black sea. The Demon King lay quietly to one side, with the Saints Guild camp and the Brick Mountains nowhere to be seen.

They were utterly trapped.

When exactly had they been exposed?

When they reached the beach? The moment they left the camp? Or even earlier, the instant they entered Brick Shadow?

“The Corrupt False God” mission they received from Hot Ash emphasized not to leave… Was it a command not to leave or advice to stay put so as not to be overwhelmed by this horrific reality?

That sensation of being stared at returned. Nol flapped his wings and abruptly turned around.

The figure holding the ball was just a dozen steps away from them.

It hovered in the air, at the same height as Nol and Teest. Not only that, it even tilted its head in confusion at Nol.

……

Saints Guild’s camp.

Abandon walked shakily, trembling with fear. Not even compared to world-class giants like Hot Ash and Eugene, his strength was inferior even to Solo’s. While the big shots tirelessly fortified the camp’s defenses, all he could do was patrol and collect resources within the camp.

It was too terrifying—utterly frightening. Abandon walked, screaming in his mind, vigorously rubbing the goosebumps on his skin.

He was used to seeing bloody, monstrous creatures, but what sin had he committed to experience such mental corruption up close?

With each step, he feared encountering a shadow that wanted to embrace him. Abandon’s eyes darted around, suddenly fixating on something.

He found a buddy who had entered the game with him!

Abandon had heard that his friend had joined the elite team but didn’t expect to see him again—sadly, his friend was now corrupted by the Demon King, playing chess with a non-existent opponent.

Unsure of the type of chess, Abandon bravely approached for some “desensitization therapy”.

His friend continued to spout nonsense, chatting face-to-face with his “chess partner”, hands moving constantly.

That was definitely not a chess game from Tahe, not like ludo or checkers. From the hand movements, it wasn’t go or backgammon either… International chess? No, that didn’t seem right…

As an enthusiast of board and card games, Abandon’s face turned pale.

He watched incredulously for a few minutes, then, with cold sweat on his forehead, staggered toward Hot Ash.

“Black shadow?” Seeing Abandon’s scared expression, Hot Ash drew his sword on the spot.

“Why—why…” Abandon swallowed hard. “Why would someone corrupted by the Demon King play Chinese chess…?”

“What are you talking about?”

Abandon’s words carried a sharp sense of suffocation. “One of my buddies is here. I just saw him playing chess—real chess! I’d bet on it.”

Hot Ash was silent for a few seconds, then responded in a dry voice, “He must have known how to play before he just went mad from the corruption, and he’s acting on memory.”

“No, that’s not right!” Abandon raised his voice. “Apart from online gaming, I’m also good at chess games. ‘Tahe’ invited me because of this. I talked to my friend about this before. He said he didn’t understand these games at all. He only knew how a horse moves in L-shape and an elephant in a field.”

“How could someone who doesn’t understand chess suddenly know how to play after being corrupted?”

“What are you suggesting? That the Demon King has something to do with us?” Hot Ash raised his hand, pointing to the chaotic camp. “Even after it did this?”

“I—I don’t know.” Abandon’s voice was bitter. “I just think everyone should know. It’s not just a simple final boss…”

Hot Ash sighed deeply, holding his helmet as if in pain.

“The existence of ‘Paradise’ is strange enough. I’d rather it be just a simple final boss.”

Abandon finally snapped out of his panic, suddenly feeling Hot Ash’s unease—Abandon himself was a decent amateur player, and he knew all too well that the current situation was drifting further and further from their familiar “game routines”.

…And before, they all firmly believed this was just a game.

“Forget it. Anyway, this is indeed a significant discovery.” Hot Ash shook his head, patting Abandon on the shoulder. “If we can get out of here, I’ll notify Hermitage.”

Abandon nodded complexly. “Right, you said ‘the Demon King is about to land’… Did you see the Demon King? What does it look like?”

“I didn’t see it. I deduced it from the corruption level.” Hot Ash gazed into the distance. “After the incident here, I tried to investigate, but as soon as I approached the Endless Sea, I felt…”

He paused with difficulty.

“Watched.” Hot Ash said, “A very terrifying gaze, piercing from the direction of the sea.”

……

Nol ignored the dark shadow in the sky, tightly embracing Teest as they plummeted towards the ground, falling faster than freefall.

The entire descent took less than a minute, but in those brief seconds, someone had disappeared from the ground below—

Anakin was no longer where they left her.

Only Fischer, kneeling on the ground, and Painter, barely holding himself up, remained. When Nol and Teest landed, it was like fish thrown back into water, suddenly revitalized.

“We’d barely left for a few seconds when several figures emerged from the ground.”  Painter explained quickly, catching his breath. “My purification magic couldn’t stop them. They, cough, grabbed Miss Anakin, and then she walked towards the beach on her own.”

Anakin was corrupted.

“Just now, I felt as if a god was watching me.”

Fischer was still kneeling, moving his knees slightly towards Teest. “It came from the direction of the Demon King… Ah, such a heavy gaze, like the sole of a boot crushing an ant… As soon as you returned, that deadly gaze disappeared, my God…”

Teest disdainfully stepped back, slipping behind Nol. [“God’s Forsaken” is in effect again?]

Not long ago, the system had hinted that this curse could block the gaze of “God”.

​​[It should be.] Nol’s thoughts were tinged with anger. [It seems that it also has a certain effect on the Demon King.]

But the effect was limited. They could only defend against the “direct gaze of the Demon King”. After all, their presence was still noticed by the Demon King.

[In the eyes of the system, the Demon King is also a kind of “god”, fooled by that old fox.] Teest expressed his surprise, ​​[ How come you weren’t affected?]

​​[Maybe because you and I are married. The established contract is absolute,] Nol replied dryly.

Ironically, here, Teest’s curse had become a high-quality buff, and Nol wondered if his [Physical Breakdown] could also make a difference.

But why Anakin? Despite Painter and Fischer being there, the figures hadn’t taken them.

The Demon King wouldn’t bother with gender-specific abductions. In terms of strength, Anakin might not match the former Pope and High Priest, but she belonged to the purification faction, which was the Demon King’s antithesis, and she held the Festival of New Green. For the Demon King, she was undoubtedly more troublesome than High Priest Fischer.

Right, Hot Ash had mentioned before. Ever since entering Brick Shadow, the corrupted monsters had been tracking them specifically. And in their group, aside from Nol himself, only Anakin was from Earth.

Could it be…

“Remarkable. The Demon King is particularly persistent with the Saints.” Teest folded his arms, voicing Nol’s guess. His gaze swept over Painter and Fischer. “Despite having two bitter enemies here, it chose to abduct an innocent lady.”

Painter chuckled dryly. “Maybe it’s because we’re both too fickle, the Demon King doesn’t care for us.”

Then he turned to Nol. “What are your plans?”

His emerald eyes were fixed on Nol’s.

Nol knew what Painter was asking—whether he planned to go back to save Anakin or just leave and look for a way to evacuate.

“What are your plans?” Nol firmly met his gaze. “You’re not just asking casually.”

“Ah, you caught me.” Painter raised his hands. “Regardless of your choice, I’m going to save her.”

Fischer’s face crumpled immediately. “Are you insane? You can’t possibly stand against the Demon King!”

“I understand that.” Painter adjusted his red hair, smiling. “But as the Mad Monk said, she’s an ‘innocent lady’. It’s not gentlemanly to let her die.”

“Coincidentally, I won’t leave her either,” Nol said.

She’s my compatriot, and a Demon King that specifically targets people from Earth…

[To my compatriots: Please kill me.]

The combined skill of [Corrupted False God]​​ and [Lost Last Wish] ​​ still lingered in his skill bar, disturbingly prominent.

Hearing Nol’s decision, Fischer’s face fell. Seeing Teest calmly standing behind Nol, Fischer begrudgingly suppressed his discontent.

“Fine words aside,” he muttered, “we can’t beat it, nor can we escape, so we must have a plan, right?”

Nol spread his wings again—this time not just his wings but also his immense dragon form. In Painter’s astonished gaze, the Dracolich spread its wings, one claw each grabbing Painter and Fischer.

Teest, taking advantage of his position, agilely leaped onto the dragon’s back, running up to the dragon’s forehead.

Nol’s wings whipped up a wild wind as he flew close to the ground, diving towards the direction Anakin had gone. The corrupted Anakin hadn’t gone far, and Nol adjusted his position. “Get ready. You watch and grab her!”

Surrounded by several figures, Anakin walked forward obliviously. She even held hands with one of the dark shadows, emitting a gentle yet unsettling laugh.

Nol slowed down, intending for the two in his claws to accurately grab Anakin and then swiftly retreat.

Teest picked up a golden thread, Painter clenched his magic wand, and thick dark ropes twined around Fischer’s fingers. Almost simultaneously, all three made their move.

Ding! Bang! Sizzle!

All three rescue attempts collided with a strange barrier—it was bright blue, with hexagonal honeycomb patterns, giving off a futuristic vibe.

Anakin continued forward, still completely oblivious to her surroundings. Beside her, one of the figures withdrew its hand.

Nol didn’t recognize the barrier, but he recognized the style and the power fluctuations. It was undoubtedly a relic from the “Near Future World”.

Nol shifted Fischer to his other claw and pressed the barrier with the tip of his claw. The honeycomb barrier flickered incessantly, emitting an unbearable squealing sound. In less than half a minute, ice-like cracks appeared in its center, exploding into light particles.

The elegant black dragon adjusted its posture, its claw reaching for Anakin. As soon as Nol’s claw tip touched Anakin’s hair, the ground churned, and a huge toy bear paw emerged from below, bouncing the dragon’s claw away.

At the same time, a new force appeared, transforming into vague, mottled wooden talismans, deeply embedding into the dragon’s claw. Penetrating the skin, they continued to burrow into the flesh, instantly blackening the claw with dense corruption.

Feeling the pain as if it were in his own fingers, Nol forcibly suppressed a cry of pain. He increased his altitude, his claw dripping with foul, black blood.

As he ascended, he inadvertently raised his head, glancing in the direction of the Demon King.

It was no longer in its original posture.

At that moment, the dark humanoid figure was half-lying by the sea, its lower half submerged in water. It propped up its upper body making its shape distinct.

From this distance, it looked clearer than from up close.

The creature’s body was deformed—its child-like frail body bloated and swollen, with two pairs of arms of varying sizes and thicknesses protruding haphazardly. It resembled a cluster of burnt corpses with their remains fused together.

Its head featured six varying-sized round light spots. They slowly moved, converging in Nol’s direction.

The Demon King had awakened.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 123: It’s Sleeping

Relying on his strong stats, Teest wandered around the camp.

Normally, he wasn’t the type to seek out danger for no reason. However, after a nighttime walk, he really needed to organize his thoughts—what better place for the Mad Monk than a camp full of lunatics?

Teest stopped beside two people eating air, watching them feed each other nothingness. He should immediately persuade Nol to go back.

Nol was right. Their condition was strange, and the reconnaissance mission was more dangerous than expected. To be honest, before Nol raised the question, Teest hadn’t considered the life or death of his companions—he was Nol’s knight, and his only duty was to protect Nol.

Upon seeing the state of the camp, Teest even planned an escape.

If the Demon King landed, so be it—the world wouldn’t explode in a second. If danger arose, he’d just grab Nol and run. Even if everyone else died here, what did it have to do with him?

Teest had no feud with the Demon King. He just wanted the truth, and the investigation wasn’t urgent. The Mad Monk was always like this, and Nol understood him, right?

No matter how he looked at it, he should decisively retreat. Damn it, why was he hesitating?

The pros and cons were clear, and he never hesitated in decision-making before. Teest never expected Nol to ask for his opinion.

“Save the people and go back” or “save people” and then track the Demon King. Nol gave him considerate options, so even if he wanted to retreat, he wouldn’t have to worry about conflicting with Nol’s principles.

“Ugh…” A tiny groan escaped Teest’s throat. He couldn’t help but step back and stealthily glance at the busy Nol in the camp.

Nol was still in Drake’s disguise, deliberately appearing cold and straightforward. But when he spoke to the Player siblings, a bit of warmth involuntarily showed in his eyes and brows.

Eugene, standing beside them, seemed oblivious. Teest thought disdainfully that the Investigation Knights were about to lose face.

Speaking of which, Nol must still be in pain. His Lord’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and his body was somewhat tense. Nol’s movements were never this restricted. Teest knew his body should be more relaxed, his posture more…

“Hi.” A greeting suddenly came from behind Teest.

When had the Mad Monk ever been approached like this? Teest’s scalp tingled, and he instinctively jumped back, landing a few steps away with his waist arched, the “Betrayer” already unsheathed.

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Painter hurriedly raised his hands. “I didn’t expect you to be so focused… It’s just a greeting. Put the knife away!”

Teest raised the small hunting knife higher, his eyes circling around Painter’s throat.

“You might as well skip the threats. We both know you won’t attack me now.” Painter covered his neck, his face full of helplessness.

“That’s hard to say.” Teest raised his mouth corners. “Have you forgotten my nickname?”

“How could I! Your murderous intent is genuine… but I always feel you wouldn’t want to disappoint your Lord,” Painter responded with an infuriatingly pleasing smile.

Teest’s hand holding the knife stiffened slightly.

Painter’s smile deepened, and he sighed softly. “As I understand the Mad Monk, you should be on your way back now, but here you are. Look, a miracle.”

“No choice. I’ve bet my life on it,” Teest replied lightly.

“I see, I see.”

Painter made a somewhat exaggerated bow. “You’re just forced to obey him, not eager to please him. My mistake.”

Teest’s smile disappeared, and he glared at Painter with an unpleasant expression while his small hunting knife dug between his slender fingers.

The former Pope’s expression changed, and he suddenly bowed towards Teest’s back. “My apologies, Master of Paradise. Did you hear all that? I had no intention of speaking out of turn—”

Teest quickly turned back—where was Nol? Nol was still at his original spot, talking to the Player siblings. When he turned back, Mr. Painter had already run off.

…Godfrey Painter, truly a detestable person.

Teest irritably put away his knife. The two mad Players beside him had finished their air meal and were now gazing into each other’s eyes. Annoyed, Teest turned towards the base.

Indeed, investigating the Demon King’s situation sooner could save more people. Nol had an obsession with saving people and would certainly be at the forefront. If he was willing to fight alongside Nol, that guy would surely be happier.

Or was this the side effect of physical desire? Did he just want to attract Nol’s attention?

Hmm, “attracting attention” was more realistic. Let them go investigate together! Once the matter was resolved, he could confirm his question.

He was just curious about the answer, Teest firmly thought. For the Mad Monk, “wavering in thought” was a big taboo.

“Did you find the shadow?” Seeing Teest return to the camp with a grave face, Nol immediately asked.

“No,” Teest said seriously.

Nol used purification magic on Teest as a sort of baptism and then paused. [Just now, Hot Ash mentioned something very strange.]

[Hmm?] Teest responded listlessly. Ah, another serious matter.

[Everyone in this camp has received a mission named “The Corrupt False God”.] He showed Teest the interface—it was an abnormally displayed survival-type mission, and it was mandatory.

Nol didn’t realize what his knight was fussing about. He bundled the “Corrupt False God” quest with the description of his initial [Corrupted False God] skill and presented them both to Teest.

[%¥@# Mission: The Corrupt False God;

※Don’t leave? Don’t leave? Don’t leave?]

[The Corrupt False God: Fragile creation, crude rules, their world cannot survive.]

Teest snapped back to reality, his thoughts complicated. [These Players can’t leave?]

[Don’t worry. Theoretically, we can still retreat.]

Nol thought Teest was dissatisfied with the “unable to retreat” part and hurriedly explained, [We can transfer them to the foot of the mountain, at the very edge of the “Brick Shadow” map. After a few days pass, we can take them away.]

[Why are you in such a hurry? You didn’t even ask my choice.] Teest expressed his grievance. [I had made up my mind to follow you to investigate the Demon King.]

Nol was slightly startled. Beneath his hood, his eyes suddenly brightened—filled with surprise and joy, focusing intently on Teest as if nothing else in the world existed.

Teest instinctively covered his chest and abdomen. He suddenly realized that the cold, dull pain inside him had turned into a burning one, the tingling warmth spreading.

His face, stiffened by pain, relaxed, and a smile crept onto his lips, making him appear much lighter.

That joy had an inexplicable infectiousness. Just a second ago, Teest’s worries seemed to have dissipated—as if they weren’t about to venture into life-threatening danger but rather going on a garden date.

If it weren’t for his sudden urge to kiss the other, Teest almost convinced himself that “he wanted to make Nol happy”.

This puzzle was really too difficult.

[Since a decision has been made, you can discuss splitting into two groups.] Teest suppressed his smile, coughing twice in his heart.

Nol moved to block the view of others. He grabbed Teest’s hand, pressing a kiss into the palm of his knight. [Thank you, Teest.]

Teest watched him run off, covering his palm with his lips, still unable to suppress the smile on his face.

……

“I don’t agree with this grouping,” Eugene stated flatly.

“Why?” Nol was a bit surprised.

His strategy of splitting into two groups remained unchanged—

Abandon, Solo, Hot Ash, and Eugene were in one group, responsible for looking after the camp and guarding against that strange shadow. The undead knight they brought along was also temporarily staying there.

Teest, himself, Painter, Fischer, and Anakin were in the other group, responsible for investigating the Demon King upfront. Each force was represented on the surface so there was no need to worry about leaks in private.

Most importantly, he took away all the potential landmines that might trigger Eugene.

“Sir Eugene, the Saints have prestigious identities. Miss Anakin alone is enough for us. Her self-preservation ability is the strongest.” Nol tried to explain calmly. “We’ve already persuaded Mr. Hot Ash. He also thinks this is the most reasonable. If you’re worried about healing, Mr. Solo has brought enough supplies.”

“I…” Eugene, leaning on his long sword, stood up stubbornly. “I’ll replace that Fischer from Paradise. I want to go to the front lines.”

“To cause trouble?” Painter whispered loudly to Fischer, who stepped back several times.

“You know my oracle.”

Eugene narrowed his eyes, saying word by word. “The Saints received the mission of ‘The Corrupt False God’, and I’m the one who slays the False God… This is the will of the Goddess.”

“If it really was the Goddess’s will, we wouldn’t be here.”

Painter turned his head, his gaze subtly sweeping over Fischer and Teest. “Honestly, Mr. Eugene, it seems like you are being abused by Tilia—“

Whoosh!

Eugene raised his long sword, its tip pointing directly at Painter’s throat. The latter swallowed, his eyebrows drooping. “My neck is really having a rough time today.”

“Do not defile the name of the Goddess,” Eugene hissed.

Painter spoke softly, but his aura remained undiminished. His fighting spirit clashed head-on with Eugene’s, almost causing the weakened Mr. Eugene to lose grip of his sword.

Was this the confrontation between the former Pope and the future Pope? Nol watched with interest.

“Look,” Painter said, extending two fingers to casually push away the sword tip. “You can’t even harm a traitor with your ‘Sword of Faith’, let alone behead a False God. Take a step back; after all, you’re destined to slay a god, so why rush now?”

Nol could no longer watch this spectacle. So, the prophecy of Knight Eugene was to “behead a False God”? No wonder the Temple of Life valued him so much. Setting aside whether the Corrupt False God referred to the Demon King or not, Nol himself carried the [Breath of a False God]. He instantly understood Painter’s discomfort, feeling a chill around his neck.

At his side, Teest raised an eyebrow. [He’s so obsessed. I thought his oracle was to marry Tilia.] He seemed to think of something, glancing at Nol out of the corner of his eye with a soft “heh”.

“Mr. Drake’s grouping is quite reasonable.” Seeing the situation turning sour, Hot Ash stepped in to mediate. “Mr. Fischer is skinny and doesn’t look like a knight. Abandon and Solo are both support classes, unsuitable for defense… I alone as a knight am not enough. Didn’t you say you would protect us?”

Nol could understand his implication—”Drake” was nominally a magic swordsman, and Teest’s physique clearly indicated a combat class. With less than six people in the scouting team, there was no need for so many tanks.

Eugene looked around expressionlessly, then closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “Since Mr. Hot Ash has said so,” he said, trying to calm his voice, “let it be so. Fate will come regardless of time.”

Painter let out a sigh of relief in front of everyone. It was hard not to suspect it was deliberate—Eugene’s face had just softened when veins popped on his forehead again.

……

But it must be said, with Painter, the former Pope leading, their mission went quite smoothly. Painter’s profession was a “Saint”, a magic class with full-light attributes. The land he stepped on was cleared of corruption like avoiding a plague, revealing its brownish-yellow true form. Unfortunately, not long after they passed, the corruption surged back, turning everything dark again.

“Why did you provoke Eugene?”

With only their people around, Nol didn’t need to keep up his Drake act and walked curiously to Painter’s side.

“Teasing the zealot is my hobby.”

Painter smiled, glancing at Teest. “Besides, that Mr. Hot Ash isn’t a knight adept in holy light, right? ‘Night Ranger’ and ‘Ranger’ aren’t great at purification either. To ensure the base is safe, Eugene’s presence is essential.”

“Mr. Eugene must know this too. Young people are just too impulsive, forgetting everything upon hearing a keyword in their oracle.”

Teest removed his hood and untied his braid, reverting to his silver hair and golden eyes. “Then what’s your oracle, Chosen One of the Goddess?”

Painter turned back with a smile. “That’s my personal secret.”

“I bet it’s not very pleasant,” Teest replied with a smile.

“Are there any pleasant oracles in this world?” Painter blasphemed without hesitation. “What, Mr. Mad Monk, is your oracle ‘Come see how cute this human is?'”

Fischer and Anakin, walking behind, immediately looked up at the sky and down at the ground, respectively.

Nol: “…Pfft!”

Noticing Teest’s mournful gaze, Nol tried to keep a straight face, comforting internally. [It’s okay. Didn’t you say you believe in me? If you like, I can give you a ‘cute’ oracle.]

[…No need, honey.]

“Back to the topic.” Nol turned to Painter, holding back laughter to change the subject. “If you replace Eugene, the base can still hold. Eugene’s prophecy is special. Taking him is more advantageous. Why oppose it so much?”

He himself carried a [Breath of a False God] and preferred to stay away from Eugene. For Painter, just the mission “The Corrupt False God” should be enough reason for Eugene’s participation, right?

“Do you even need to ask?” Painter leisurely twirled his brush-like magic wand. “There’s more than one False God. Of course I want to reserve the beheading spot for the most dangerous one.”

“…More than one?”

The former Pope casually dropped a bombshell. Nol held his breath, and even Teest frowned. The idea of multiple False Gods, coming from the former Pope, was a significant revelation.

The common belief was that Painter left the temple due to “disliking its style”, but Nol always found it a thin reason. Painter must have discovered something during his tenure.

Who exactly were the “False Gods” Painter referred to—the Goddess of Life, the Eternal Son, or… both?

“Blasphemous fool!” Fischer reflexively shouted, his voice then slowly diminishing. “My God… My God… Uh, continue…”

“Ah, I don’t just say everything. This information is very valuable. Even ranking after ‘Dragon Clan secrets’.” Painter winked at Nol. “Some secrets, if revealed carelessly, can cause turmoil… I think you understand.”

Painter still couldn’t fully trust them. Not surprisingly, Nol thought, lowering his gaze. He hadn’t told Painter the true nature of Paradise, although this, uh, red-haired old fox might have guessed some of it.

Nol sighed inwardly, hoping that after this exploration, Painter would open up to them.

Brick Shadow, lying adjacent to the Brick Mountain Range, got its name from “the shadow of Brick Mountain”, indicative of its long, narrow terrain. Now as they crossed it to reach the Endless Sea, the journey wasn’t particularly long.

In less than two days, Nol sensed the smell of the sea in the air.

Their journey was eerily smooth, with none of the “corrupted monsters chasing day and night” that Eugene spoke of materializing. There was only one incident when Anakin strayed a few hundred meters from the group to gather herbs and was nearly bitten by a corrupted creature. After that, she stayed close to the main group.

As for the “strange shadows” that caused madness, they hadn’t encountered any. All around were endless withered trees, black mud, carcasses, and increasing corruption—but compared to the corruption near The Manor, it was much the same.

Far from relaxing, Nol became more tense. Unusual occurrences often hinted at something sinister. Their journey felt as if it were orchestrated.

Finally, at noon one day, they reached the end of the forest. The tree shadows thinned, and the sky turned a vivid red. The stinking black muck transformed into pale gravel, and the sound of the waves became faintly audible.

Teest suddenly halted, stretching an arm in front of Nol. Painter, leading the way, raised his magic wand, a white light flickering rapidly at its tip.

“What’s that?” Anakin raised her hand and said in a hoarse voice.

A shadowy figure stood at the end of the road. Dark, mist-like. It simply stood there, its outline wavering as if distorted by the hot summer air—roughly one and a half meters tall, unhealthily thin.

It raised its featureless face, staring intently at the group. A few seconds later, as if losing interest, it ran off like a child.

As the shadow departed, they saw the scene on the beach. For a moment, Nol felt numb from head to toe.

He had imagined every possible appearance for the Demon King, from “classic behemoth” and “Gothic humanoid monster” to “Cthulhu-like”. As for the Demon King’s corrupted domain, as someone in the gaming industry, he had envisioned countless conceptual scenes. But he hadn’t expected this. It was too…

[Too quiet.] Teest’s confused thoughts came through.

They faced a deformed giant. The creature was hollow and black all over. Its form was like a collapsed building, curled up like a baby. At a glance, it had a child’s body, a slightly larger head, and an abnormal number of arms. More details were unclear. Not only because it was curled up too tightly, but also because the “Demon King” was… sleeping on the beach.

There was no doubt it was the Demon King. Nol recognized it instantly. The corruption emanating from it was active, its aura suffocating. But it didn’t seem intentional—

The child-like “Demon King” curled at the intersection of the gray-black ocean and pale beach. The water defied gravity, flowing up along its body like a gray, thin blanket on a white bedsheet.

Countless black shadows ran from its head, playing on the beach—building nonexistent sandcastles, selling nonexistent ice cream, chasing and frolicking with each other.

There were no real living creatures, so none of the nonsensical chatter and laughter of the camp. Everything was eerily quiet, so quiet it made one want to sigh, with only the rustling sound of surging waves.

It was like a soft dream.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 122: Peeping

After delivering a message to Anakin, Barto headed north with ease. Crossing the national border, he entered the territory of Shiva.

As planned, the Player guild “Amazon” had just arrived in Blue Moss Village in Shiva. The guild had sent two hundred elite members, who had just completed their stationing.

Blue Moss Village was very close to Gravel Town, less than a two-hour walk away. If it weren’t for the large number of Amazons requiring time to mobilize, there would be no need to entrust the Alva Merchant Group to relay messages—it’s widely known that the Alva Merchant Group’s message delivery was the fastest in the Tahe Continent.

Barto dismounted from his horse and walked happily towards the Amazon camp, his gaze constantly scanning the streets. Along the way, Amazon Players were everywhere, all uniquely styled beautiful girls, with a few “male Players” occasionally mixed in, mostly like him, playing on an opposite sex character—Amazon was extremely strict in determining the gender of its members.

‘What a pain in the ass,’ Barto thought disdainfully.

These women would rather accept fake gender accounts than real females. If it weren’t for his falling out with Amazon, he wouldn’t have ended up so miserably.

But now things were different. He had joined the Alva Merchant Group as a Player representative, holding real power in his hands with no need to frequently interact with male Players. Facing the natives of this world, he, as a Player, was overwhelmingly strong, with nothing to fear.

Unfortunately, in the fixed area, the Alva Merchant Group only wanted to select one Player representative to “show friendliness”. Kicking out Bly was inevitable—one could never truly know someone’s intentions.

Clearing his throat, Barto walked towards Dorothy’s tent holding up her Player stats window as an ID. The tent was plain, lacking the ribbons, flowers, or incense he imagined. It looked clean and simple, much like the tents of the Saints Guild. ‘How boring,’ he complained internally.

“I am Barto,” he announced at the entrance with a pompous tone. “I’ve relayed the message to Anakin. I’m here for my reward.”

“Come in.” A female voice came from inside the tent.

Inside, the leader of Amazon, a Berserker recently class-changed to “Barbarian Queen”, Dorothy, was sitting at a table frowning at a report, not even glancing at Barto.

Dorothy was dressed in practical beastskin armor. Her head was adorned with a lion skull mask, the bones gilded, and topped with a crown made of beast horns. Her sturdy brown skin was covered in blood-red tattoos, which seemed alive, occasionally sliding across her arms.

“Thank you for your hard work. Your reward will come from my personal warehouse.” She waved indifferently. “Wolf blood essential oil, Thunder Dragon skin boots. I got these from my class-change quest. They should satisfy the Alva Merchant Group.”

“A bit of courtesy wouldn’t hurt.” Barto was slightly annoyed. “The last representative from the Alva Merchant Group didn’t receive such treatment.”

“This is a transaction. I’m your client.” Dorothy finally turned, her mask’s eye holes revealing a pair of brown-yellow beast pupils. “I thought we were all modern people who don’t need messy formalities.”

Barto rolled his eyes, thinking Dorothy didn’t know how to be a female executive. He opened the system interface, preparing to trade with Dorothy.

“Since you mentioned the Alva Merchant Group,” Dorothy’s sharp gaze pierced through, “out of kinship, I’ll give you a piece of advice—they’re playing on their homefield. You’d better be more cautious.”

“What do you mean?”

“The young man who was with you last time, Bly, right? He’s far stronger than you in both social skills and combat ability. But the Alva Merchant Group chose you as the representative. Think about it.”

Barto twitched his mouth, not hiding the disdain on his face. “You’re my client, not my dad. In the past, it wasn’t clear who had the stronger fist between us. It’s not your place to lecture me.”

Dorothy didn’t get angry. She just shook her head helplessly and completed the trade.

“You can go now,” she said bluntly.

“What are you planning to do, just waiting outside like this?” Barto stood at the entrance, motionless. “I’m also a member of the Saints Guild. The Saints Guild has sought your help. I have the right to know your response—what, are you planning to keep cowering?”

“No. We’ll head to Brick Shadow in a few days,” Dorothy stated coldly. “Can you leave now?”

Barto snorted coldly and turned to leave. Dorothy lowered her eyes, and the air around her twisted as a slender girl dressed in an assassin’s outfit appeared.

“Why did you lie to him, sister?” the assassin asked curiously.

Not long ago, all members of Amazon had received clear instructions—

Anakin, a formidable healer nominally under the “Saints Guild”, was to proceed with Solo from “Hermitage” for a rescue mission. This brother-sister duo, skilled in reconnaissance and rescue, was most suitable for investigative tasks.

Until they received definite feedback, Amazon wouldn’t send its elite members into Brick Shadow.

“Barto… Haa.” Dorothy sighed. “As a lower member of the Saints Guild, he has no right to discuss arrangements with me. Even if he wanted to know, he should have used his own eyes to see, rather than foolishly asking me, the person in charge.”

The assassin girl hesitated, revealing her confusion. “I’m still a student. I don’t quite understand these things…”

“It’s just a bit of personal curiosity.” Dorothy’s gaze softened. “As long as Barto behaves like a predictable fool under someone’s watch, I can accept it. But if he’s foolish enough to blab Player intelligence and let the wrong people hear it, we all need to be cautious. If the information really gets leaked, I’d be very interested to see the Alva Merchant Group’s reaction.”

Scratching her head, the assassin girl changed the subject. “So, we’re just going to wait like this? Is that really okay? If even Hot Ash has fallen, adding two more people might not be enough.”

“Anakin is assisting Paradise in a quest. Now that her ‘own people’ are in trouble, Paradise won’t ignore it—after all, it’s part of the ‘main storyline’. For now, Paradise seems to be watertight in this regard. When they retreat from Brick Shadow, Amazon’s well-coordinated response outside can also earn some goodwill.” Dorothy’s voice contained a hint of a smile. “Besides, I’m quite interested in Paradise’s standards.”

“Is this what the world of businesspeople is like?” The assassin girl muttered. “I guess I still prefer gymnastics…”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s all good, sister.”

……

In Brick Shadow, at the Saints Guild’s camp.

Anakin inserted her wand, embedded with the “Festival of New Green” into the ground and surrounded it with a circle of magical tools, barely creating a purified area. Eugene and Hot Ash, with their robust physiques, quickly regained consciousness after the corruption was removed.

Eugene was the first to get up.

He rose so abruptly that he almost knocked the spoon out of Painter’s hand. Seeing the familiar face in front of him, Eugene showed a rare expression of confusion. But as a knight with extraordinary willpower, he just stared at Painter, clenching his fists tightly, not even touching his sword.

“See,” Painter said with a dry laugh. “I told you this kid knows his limits.”

“Lady Tilia ordered you to come here for atonement… Mmph!” Eugene was about to speak when Painter stuffed his mouth with a spoonful of something.

What Mr. Painter fed wasn’t delicious food but a bitter and sticky purifying ointment. Usually, this was taken with other materials due to its unpleasant taste. Given the limited conditions, they couldn’t afford such luxuries now—Eugene’s face crinkled in bitterness, unable to speak for a while.

After administering the medicine, Painter stood up, leisurely dusting off his hands. Nol watched Painter’s expression out of the corner of his eye.

With the three Players busy taking care of Hot Ash, Nol and Painter had to take care of Eugene. They couldn’t let the Mad Monk and the Eternal High Priest take care of Eugene, right?

Nol didn’t distrust Eugene’s judgment, but he really… Well, didn’t trust the other two’s character. Those two evil guys wouldn’t harm Eugene, but they were likely to cause trouble.

Mr. Eugene wasn’t exactly popular either.

“Are you okay, Sir Eugene?” Now that Eugene was awake, Nol instantly adopted “Drake’s” indifferent demeanor.

“Drake?” Eugene finally swallowed the ointment, his gaze shifting between Nol and Painter. “Why are you here?”

“For the same reason as Mr. Painter.” Nol put his hood back on. “Just a mercenary.”

Painter followed suit. “I don’t want to get involved with the Saints Guild either, but who can ignore a matter involving the Demon King?” He subtly misdirected the “employer” towards Anakin and then smiled at Nol.

“Those two…” Eugene looked towards Teest and Fischer, whose faces were hidden in the shadows.

“People from Paradise. They say they’re here voluntarily to help,” Nol said calmly.

Eugene narrowed his eyes at the two for a while and then weakly lay back down, looking up at the sky. Around this small purified land, the otherworldly Players continued their playful antics, consciously avoiding this area as if the purification magic was some new kind of obstacle.

Nonsensical chatter mixed with laughter floated around the windless land, like randomly generated background noise, discordant and rough.

Over there, Hot Ash had conveyed critical information and then passed out. Eugene, however, kept his eyes open. After a while, his moss-green eyes turned towards Nol.

“Are you here to rescue or to continue the investigation?” he asked hoarsely.

“Both for now.” Nol crossed his arms, his golden eyes visible beneath the cloak. “The future, maybe not.”

“The Demon King is crossing the Endless Sea and is about to land. I believe Mr. Hot Ash has already informed you. As for my personal judgment… the situation is critical, and this investigation must be completed,” Eugene said calmly, still looking at the sky, offering a decision completely opposite to Hot Ash’s.

There was no fear on his face, nor the joy of having survived a catastrophe. Knight Eugene firmly believed he would survive. Was this the confidence of a Chosen One?

“Drake” wasn’t known for being polite or gentle. Nol bluntly asked, “With you here, how did the camp end up like this?”

Eugene stared at the sky and began to describe the camp’s eerie experiences.

From the moment they entered the Brick Mountain Range, the Saints Guild had been constantly attacked by various corrupted monsters. Hot Ash was extra cautious, advancing slowly.

However, one day, their scout returned completely corrupted. Hot Ash immediately isolated him and gathered everyone to purify the corruption.

It sounded reasonable, Nol thought. Even if he had been there, he wouldn’t have done better than Hot Ash.

“The priests extracted a shadow from him,” Eugene continued. “It dissipated under the purification magic… Everyone thought it had disappeared.”

“But it just hid in the ground. It appeared when the Saints were off guard, embraced them, and turned them into twisted forms. The camp became like this in just one night.”

“Oh—” Painter leaned in with interest. “So, the shadow might still be around!”

Eugene pretended not to hear. “Only by continuously casting high-level purification magic nearby can it be kept at bay. Unfortunately, too few can do this, and we realized it too late.”

Painter slumped his shoulders. “Young people are really narrow-minded.”

“I understand,” Nol said. “After questioning Mr. Hot Ash, we will make a decision.”

He turned and cruelly left Painter with Eugene.

Hot Ash seemed to need a few more hours to recover. As the sky grew darker, the group had to camp for the night.

Nol, in coordination with Anakin, filled the small base of less than twenty square meters with purifying tools, ensuring that the “corrupted shadow” Eugene mentioned couldn’t approach. After all this, he tugged at Teest’s robe, volunteering to patrol the surroundings—

Just because the camp’s Players had gone mad didn’t mean the surrounding monsters would spare them. If a Player was captured in such a delirious state, the outcome was predictable.

“Not a bad pre-sleep walk,” Teest said happily as Nol dragged him away from the purification base. “Or do you have something private to tell me?”

“Are you in bad shape?” Nol sighed, kicking away a corrupted monster that tried to pounce on them.

“……”

Under his hood, Teest paused for two seconds, and then, with a dance of golden threads, another monster was cut into four pieces. “What’s wrong? Why did you suddenly say that?”

The monster’s foul blood moistened the ground. Beside the pool of blood, Nol lowered Teest’s hood. “Before this, you’ve never missed ‘evening prayer’.”

“Ah, neglecting God is indeed not good,” Teest lamented like a newly ordained priest from some church.

“Answer my question.”

“You really do know everything.” Teest pressed his palm against his chest and abdomen. “It’s just a bit of pain. It won’t hinder my actions. But you—your pain seems severe. Is it really okay? Your breathing and heartbeat are much faster than before, and your expression is always tense.”

The two stared at each other for a while.

“Alright.” Nol turned around, swatting away a mutated bat, and massaged his temples. “Let’s not hide things from each other anymore… How are you feeling? How much does it hurt?”

Teest took Nol’s hand and bit lightly on his knuckles. It didn’t break the skin but left a deep red mark.

“Just this much—not more, not less,” he said. “If I’m too far from you, the pain worsens. Please make sure not to leave your poor knight behind.”

Teest’s pain might not be as severe as Nol’s, but it certainly wasn’t light. Perhaps because he grew up in the Eternal Church, Teest showed no outward signs of distress, despite the pain. Nol looked at the fresh bite mark on his skin and finally made a decision.

“I was thinking, when we go for the investigation, we could split up… I brought you out to discuss this.”

“Oh?”

“With this situation, we can’t leave the camp unattended. Let’s have Abandon, Eugene, Solo, and Hot Ash stay behind,” Nol suggested. “You and I, along with Painter, the siren, and Anakin, will go to the front line to investigate the Demon King.”

“Your arrangement is perfect. What do you want to ask me?” Teest tilted his head.

“You’re not in a good state. If you don’t want to continue the investigation, I’ll consider ‘rescue first’—regardless of what Eugene says, a day or two won’t make a difference.” Nol’s tone was very serious. “Teest, do you want to continue?”

The night breeze flowed through the foul-smelling woods. Teest smiled.

“I am willing.” He lifted Nol’s hand again, kissing the bite mark. “You’ve asked before, why ask again?”

“I’m asking my knight,” Nol said. “The situation is dire, involving too many people. No matter the circumstances, I want to try to save everyone, and you might not accept that—you entrust your life to me, but I have no right to squander it.”

Teest fell silent.

The two stood facing each other, and after a few seconds, Nol leaned in and kissed Teest’s nose.

“This is tonight’s evening prayer,” he whispered softly. “This is not an order. You don’t have to answer me right away.”

Not far away, behind a twisted tree, a pure black shadow peeked out. The edge of the figure emitted chaotic, mist-like fluctuations. Its head was sometimes round, sometimes flat—its form indistinct. It was obviously not a living person.

It leaned against the tree trunk, quietly watching the two people not far away.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 121: Differential Treatment

“Thrilling indeed.”

The Mad Monk stamped his approval on this new discovery, as usual, in high spirits.

After Teest finished speaking, he snuck glances at Nol. However, Nol was no longer the naive young man who would become dejected and depressed by such things. After a brief moment of shock, he straightened up, quickly regaining his composure.

“You’re taking it quite well,” Nol said first.

“Look at you. I’m only twenty-eight years old—I’m much older than the real history of this world! As for the rest, let those fools who boast about their ancient families worry about it.” Teest turned half a circle on the spot, showing off his “prime of life”.

He kept his eyes on Nol while speaking.

Nol sighed, stepped forward, and covered Teest’s eyes with his palm. “I’m fine, just thinking about something.”

“Like what?” The succubus tail quietly circled behind Nol, its tip sliding from the nape of his neck to his tailbone.

“If Tahe has only existed for a little over two hundred years, it means the Goddess of Life and the Eternal Son aren’t as ancient as they claim.”

Nol let the tail tip prod him. “The situation with the Demon King is different. If those two gods really turned against each other, dealing with a ‘few hundred year old monster’ is much easier than facing a ‘thousands of years old demon’. For us, this is good news.”

“You’re becoming more positive,” Teest praised. “I love your aggressive ideas.”

It’s not like that. Nol withdrew his hand, his fingertips brushing through Teest’s long hair.

Even if the world fell apart, standing next to the Mad Monk, there would always be bubbles of “no problem” and “how interesting” above his head. Things usually felt lighter when one had a knight who was always cheerful and never backed down—

As if what they faced wasn’t an urgent problem but a thoroughly thrilling adventure.

“We’ll proceed as usual tomorrow,” Nol said.

They would first find the elite team of Eugene and Hot Ash, assess the Demon King’s situation, and then complete the undead knight’s mission. But before that…

“You take the knight back first. I have something else to do,” Nol said with a smile.

In the shadowy bushes, the blue fire ignited twice. The first time at midnight, the second at dusk.

……

Not long ago, Nol and Eugene’s knight group traversed the Brick Mountains to deal with The Manor. At that time, the environment near the mountains wasn’t this ominous—

If it was said that the area around the Brick Mountains was only somewhat terrifying during the “White Night”. Now the phenomenon seemed diluted and semi-permanently fixed around them.

The air, soil, and water were all permeated with a faint taint of the Demon King’s corruption. Plants either died or turned an unnatural gray and had spot that looked like black eyeballs. Most of the birds and beasts had fled, with the remaining ones becoming deformed corpses laying rigid in the mud.

Food, if left out for more than half an hour, developed a layer of grayish, fungus-like substance, turning foul and inedible. Water transformed into a viscous black-gray liquid, clearly undrinkable. It was fortunate that Players generally had inventory slots, as a normal army conducting reconnaissance would struggle immensely just with water supply.

Even the snow on the mountaintops turned dirty, and the sky gradually reddened, causing discomfort to everyone.

Nol could feel that the closer they moved towards the Endless Sea, the stronger the strange oppressive sensation became. It felt as if his insides were being gnawed at, constantly ground between teeth.

After descending the mountain, the pain peaked.

Before them lay the infamous “Brick Shadow”. While the creatures of the Black Forest were more forest and mountain-oriented, those in the Brick Shadow leaned towards swamps and coasts.

The bushes here were much shorter than those in the Black Forest, dark, and crowded together like a solidified crowd.

The sky had turned completely dark red, and the land was frighteningly black. The air was so polluted that Abandon kept coughing, his face turning purple. Solo constantly checked his communication crystal every few seconds—as soon as they stepped onto this land, filth began to seep into the crystal, like blood.

“￥#%#￥#%@…” Abandon stomped on the heavy, wet mud, muttering something under his breath.

What?

Nol cleaned his ears, suspecting he was hallucinating due to the severe pain in his stomach.

“@#￥@*#$!” Solo furrowed his brows, responding to Abandon as if in conversation.

“%￥#.” Abandon clicked his tongue.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Teest asked straightforwardly.

Painter suddenly stopped walking. “%@#&?”

“I still don’t understand what you’re saying.” Teest shrugged his shoulders. He flicked his fingers, and numerous golden threads appeared in front of everyone, blocking their path.

“￥￥#——!?!?” Abandon screamed when he saw the golden threads. He tried to run away but was compassionately held back by Solo.

He shivered and looked around at everyone, finding them all stationary, their gazes gradually becoming desperate.

“I don’t understand either.” Nol moved two steps, blocking Abandon’s last escape route.

“At least we can still talk to each other.” His knight winked at him. “So, the problem isn’t too big.”

Painter stopped talking. He narrowed his green eyes and fell into deep thought. After a few seconds, he waved his brush wand, and a line of shimmering text appeared in the air: [Can you understand this?]

“Yes.”

After Nol responded, he suddenly realized the issue—the group could still understand him and Teest speaking! Not to mention Players with language skills—even Painter could understand!

Anakin pursed her lips, summoning a system pop-up. The pop-up, tinged with brown murkiness, had distorted text—

[Language Proficiency [%amp;&￥ Abnormal]]

Nol glanced at Painter, setting the pop-up to be visible only to himself. In his pop-up, the language proficiency skill showed no issues. He looked at Teest, who also shook his head slightly.

[Our language skills have a problem.] Anakin wrote quickly.

[What I first said was that I never felt such a lack of oxygen, even in the highlands. Solo said we all feel the same. Just bear with it.] Abandon hurriedly responded.

Solo became upset, grabbing a branch and writing rapidly: [I didn’t say that! I heard you say you were too tired from walking and wanted to rest. I told you to complain less, lunch is soon.]

[The Mad Monk asked, “What the hell are you talking about?” right?] Painter’s handwriting was unexpectedly elegant and beautiful. [Then the gentleman from Paradise said, “I don’t understand either”. I heard it that way.]

[Yes, yes, yes.]

[Me too.]

[I also.]

The others quickly wrote their responses. Nol and Teest exchanged a glance and nodded in agreement.

[In my humble opinion, what we just said might not be any language at all. Everyone was just making random sounds and imagining the other person’s response—sometimes it might match, sometimes it might not.] Painter wrote swiftly. [Only those two gentlemen were still using normal common language. It’s not strange we could understand.]

[This is very likely the influence of the Demon King.] Fischer rarely joined the conversation actively. His expression grew serious, and his eyes showed a subtle sense of age. [Usually, people are exposed to only inactive corruption, which doesn’t have such a great impact. According to our records, near the Demon King, living beings’ senses and thoughts get gradually distorted.]

Abandon looked shocked at this “teenage siren”.

[We have similar records on our side. Originally, because of the interference, the war to defeat the Demon King was that difficult.] Painter raised an eyebrow, calmly continuing, [The closer to the Demon King, the greater the influence. It seems the Demon King isn’t far from the continent of Tahe.]

[So we need the protection of God!] The former High Priest seized the opportunity to speak, as the atmosphere was right. [Mortals cannot oppose the Demon King. If it weren’t for the outliers among us, we wouldn’t have noticed the anomalies so soon.]

[You’ve said so much, but why exactly are the Mad [crossed out] succubus and the Master from Paradise unaffected?] Abandon was on the verge of tears.

A typical Tahe trick, huh? Lure him into the mountains, then tell him the succubus knight is the Mad Monk, with no way to escape! Anakin and Solo must have been in on it, and these two actually kept silent!

At this point, his only option was to desperately seek a way out.

[Actually, there’s an interesting theory within the Temple of Life.] Painter looked around at everyone, then slowly began to write: [Some magic researchers claim that “the power of the Demon King” and “the authority of the gods” are essentially no different.]

Fischer’s eyebrows twitched, but he didn’t object.

[Those researchers argued that the battle of the two gods against the Demon King could also be interpreted as a battle between gods—two benevolent gods standing beside living beings, fighting against an evil god who wanted to destroy the world.]

[Unfortunately, the Temple of Life and the Eternal Church are opposed.] Fischer lifted his chin, his pen sharp as a knife. [If we use that version of the legend, the poor bishops will have to explain “why the two benevolent gods are opposed” and “why the Eternal Son, an evil god, would be so hostile to another evil god”. It’s easier for the public to understand the story of the gods wounding the Demon King and then turning against each other.]

[Exactly.] Painter smiled.

[But you still haven’t explained why those two are unaffected!] Abandon wrote in despair.

Anakin grabbed his wildly scribbling wrist, her face somewhat pale.

[According to them, the power of all beings in Tahe (including Players) is given by the gods.] Anakin wrote in neat, delicate script. [The Demon King is essentially a god, and everyone’s ‘gift of the gods’ is being disrupted by the power of another god, which is why problems are occurring.]

By this point, even the slow-witted Abandon had caught on.

The clash of god-level powers, with mortals suffering, was only natural. But the presence of two unaffected individuals made things interesting.

But the thought was somewhat frightening, and with the situation unclear, everyone tacitly maintained silence. Painter looked deeply at Nol, then glanced over at Teest.

Nol’s fingertips pressed tightly against his palm—

He was aware of his own uniqueness.

His peculiar discomfort might be another form of “Demon King influence”—against ordinary people, the Demon King simply rolled over them with corruption. But against a potential “opponent” of a similar level, it was targeted suppression.

His goal in coming here, besides rescuing Hot Ash, wasn’t much different from Hot Ash’s. He just wanted to make a necessary inspection along the way. Nol felt bitter inside. The Demon King had overestimated him. Currently, he couldn’t even defeat a dragon clan leader, so how could he face off against the legendary Demon King?

The question was, if he really had some “godly” status due to the system’s [Breath of a Demigod], making him a target of the Demon King, then why was Teest’s situation more similar to his “Demigod” than other Players?

…Death Knights sounded cool, but if it came to comparing stats, there were many monsters stronger than Teest.

Never mind. He had insufficient information, so there was no point in overthinking now.

Nol raised his staff and cast a long-lasting purification spell. Teest also tacitly erected a protective shield. With these combined efforts, everyone finally regained basic communication ability.

Abandon and Solo explored ahead for footprints, and the group continued forward.

Compared to before, the expressions of the group were much more interesting. Aside from Abandon, who was full of fear, and the two siblings worried about the Saints, the rest, including the former Pope and High Priest, had contemplative expressions.

Their only difference was that Painter occasionally looked at Nol, marching in step, while Fischer’s gaze stuck to Teest, who was humming a tune.

This peculiar atmosphere didn’t last long.

The group hadn’t expected to find the elite team of the Saints Guild so close to the Brick Mountains. Just over two hours after crossing the Brick Mountains, they found the base of the elite team.

The squad stopped in the distance, Teest’s humming abruptly cutting off.

Seeing the scene inside the base, he drew a sharp breath and whistled. “Impressive.”

Now they understood why no new distress signals had come out.

The camp was a scene of utter chaos, like a vision of the apocalypse.

Tents were haphazardly collapsed, and food on the tables had long turned into spoiled and tainted remains. The soup pots were dried up, emitting an unpleasant odor. Precious scrolls and records were scattered everywhere, trampled into the mud.

These powerful Players were still alive, but just “alive”.

Their bodies had various deformities, like clay roughly kneaded by children, few retaining a human shape—heads melted into chests, hands dangling to the ground, limbs bent for walking, and many twisting on the ground.

Surprisingly, these Players weren’t desperately struggling in their deformed state. They seemed to be mimicking normal life. If this “normal life” didn’t clash so starkly with the environment, it might even seem somewhat bearable.

In places without chairs and tables, Players bent their bodies, “sitting” in mid-air. They leaned against non-existent tables, using invisible cups and plates to eat and drink, chatting in an indecipherable language, occasionally bursting into exaggerated laughter.

Pretending to read, pretending to cook, pretending to hawk goods… These deformed Players were performing a prop-less game of house in front of them.

“Fuck.” Solo couldn’t help but curse, while Abandon reacted more directly—he turned his head and vomited without a second’s hesitation.

“There’s no Hot Ash or Eugene… no Hot Ash or Eugene…”

Anakin forced herself to watch those disfigured comrades. For the first time, Nol noticed her shaking so intensely.

He took a deep breath and raised his staff high. A cyan-blue Paradise marker appeared above the camp, emitting concentric circles of magical fluctuations. It was very close.

In less than two seconds, a corner of the camp burst with platinum sparks—strikingly conspicuous in this dim, dark red environment.

“Ah, it’s the Temple’s distress signal.” Painter scratched his face. “I should have kept my disguise. But for Eugene, it probably wouldn’t have mattered.”

Nol: “You plan to…?”

“For now, do nothing. After all, if Mr. Eugene makes a move, he’ll probably target Fischer first.”

Painter spread his hands. “Don’t worry about it. That kid, though a fanatic, knows what’s important and wouldn’t be foolish enough to cause internal strife in this situation.”

Fischer rolled his eyes dramatically.

Abandon looked suspiciously at his roommate, then glanced empathetically at Teest, wisely remaining silent.

Stepping over the muddy, filthy land, Nol successfully located them. Throughout, the crazed Players didn’t spare them a glance.

As it turned out, Mr. Painter’s worries were unnecessary.

The two survivors—Hot Ash and Eugene—still had their wits. Hot Ash was in a better state, but Eugene was on the verge of madness.

He had been sustaining a purification spell around them, barely protecting about one square meter of land. Eugene’s face was ashen, his eyes unfocused, showing clear signs of magical exhaustion.

Hot Ash wasn’t much better. His mana was probably long depleted—even a mage wouldn’t last this long, let alone two knights.

Painter sighed softly, asking Annakin for a mana recovery potion. He held Eugene’s head and, in sync with the purification spell, quickly poured the potion into Eugene’s throat.

The former Pope’s actions were gentle enough, yet Knight Eugene almost choked. After a long bout of coughing, he instinctively grabbed Painter’s wrist and downed the remaining potion.

Then, Knight Eugene closed his eyes and collapsed. Painter twirled a finger beside his nose. “Physical and magical exhaustion. He’s asleep.”

After saying this, Painter casually let go, and Eugene’s head banged into the mud.

Simultaneously, Nol cast numerous recovery spells on Hot Ash. Abandon and Solo dragged him into the range of Nol’s purification magic.

Hot Ash, still possessing some sanity and able to move, poured several bottles of water into his helmet, gasping for about twenty-five minutes before managing to speak.

He wasn’t a Death Knight. His eyes were obscured by the shadow of his helmet, and it was unclear who he was looking at.

“The Demon King… The Demon King is on Desolation Island…”

The server’s top Player reached out and grabbed Teest, the closest to him. “It’s not… It can’t be a plot boss, too sinister… Everyone is totally unprepared… Tell Amazon to retreat quickly…”

“The Demon King is about to… land…”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 120: A Lifetime in Just a Moment

Before his departure, Nol had finally completed his new magic.

He named it [Remembrance of the Dead], which could integrate fragments of the deceased’s memories, connecting them together, allowing the undead to regain a certain level of intelligence.

To finish it quickly, Nol had to repeatedly simplify the mechanism. Currently, the effect of [Remembrance of the Dead] was temporary—it could only restore the deceased’s consciousness for about half an hour, nothing more.

As for the discomfort in his own body and that of Teest, after sticking together for a few hours, Teest claimed to be fully recovered. Nol’s condition hadn’t improved, but it hadn’t worsened either and wouldn’t hinder combat, so he falsely claimed he had “recovered quite a bit”.

Thus, after preparing the supplies, everyone was ready to spend their last night in Gravel Town.

In the chaotic, gray sky, four full moons shone brightly. Nol and Teest slipped out of the inn, taking the undead knight into the seldom-trodden bushes.

The tall knight was always silent. Whenever he stopped, he would look at the moon.

Teest drew his sword and stood guard, while Nol solemnly raised his magic staff.

The magic took effect instantly. A cyan-blue halo flickered from the feet of the knight, spiraling upwards. The thick, bitter air began to flow again, forming a whirlwind, with dead leaves tumbling endlessly on the grass.

Finally, the undead knight took his gaze off the moon, and the ghostly fires in his helmet quietly observed Nol.

Nol recalled for a moment and realized he hadn’t given this knight a name. Just like the War King, who was simply known as “War King”—as characters from a past era not central to the storyline, their stories were simple and rough, with relatively brief backgrounds.

“Hello,” Nol greeted in the simplest way possible.

The once mighty knight prince didn’t respond. He lowered his head, slowly raised his hands, and looked at his skeletal hands covered in gauntlets. Traces of golden chains remained there, emitting faint golden light from the scratches.

After a long time, he slowly clenched his fists.

“What do you want?” he asked in a rough, emotionless voice.

“We heard your unconscious whispers, saying you had seen a moon. We just wanted to ask about this.” Nol pointed to the sky, trying to sound gentler.

The knight looked up again, and for some reason, Nol felt intense sorrow from those ghostly fires.

“One question for another,” the knight said with a slight bow.

“Fair enough.” With limited magic time, Nol didn’t want to waste it.

“What record did my brother, the ‘War King’, leave behind?” the knight asked in a chilling, undead tone.

Nol was relieved. The knight had asked the right person.

“During the Era of Strife among the kings, the War King left little information. According to existing records, he was in constant warfare since his ascension, never stopping even when his territory was stable. After… your death, he led his army to the lands of Shiva, perishing with the giant guardians, dying in the wilderness.”

“The War King was cursed before his death, losing his sanity and becoming a continuously mutating undead. His followers left his body where it fell, building a mausoleum on the spot.”

Nol also remembered a bit of side information: actually, the War King’s territory wasn’t very large, less than one-tenth of what was now “New Gemino”. After the War King’s disappearance, his lands were quickly divided. The war-loving king eventually turned into a monster and was imprisoned in the wilderness for hundreds of years. This was the origin story for the dungeon “The Fall of the War King”.

Of course, considering the knight prince’s feelings, it was better not to mention the second half of the story.

The ghostly fire in the undead knight’s eye sockets flickered twice. “Did the War King leave any famous buildings in the palace, even ruins?”

Nol was stunned.

…Such a strange question.

There was nothing like that in the setting. The War King had no interest in architecture; he inherited his father’s palace and then went to war for years. The ruins of the War King’s palace were still in a city in New Gemino.

Lynn had installed surveillance dolls there, and Nol had also checked them out, finding nothing unusual. The palace was well-preserved, now said to be the private collection of a wealthy merchant.

So, Nol could only honestly shake his head.

“Did he really leave nothing behind?” The undead knight’s tone was anxious for the first time. “There was a tall tower named the ‘Moonwatching Tower’…”

“One question for another.” Teest interjected, slightly displeased. “Knight, this is already your third question.”

Nol shook his head lightly at Teest, then slowed down his voice. “Sorry, can you describe what that tower looks like?”

The undead knight moved as if to approach, then stopped. “Your knight is right. I asked too many questions… Let me answer your question first.”

Nol swallowed nervously. “Please.”

“My brother and I were born special.” The undead knight didn’t directly answer Nol’s question, his tone filled with faint sadness. “We were different from others since birth, able to see a person’s talents and what profession they were suited for… Father said it was a blessing from God.”

Nol quickly realized this was a unique ability of plot-related NPCs. With such an ability, their interactions and battles with Players, especially those with dungeon bosses, would be more fluid—the bosses needed to adjust their combat strategies based on the Players’ professions.

This was one of the fundamental mechanisms of Tahe.

“Our life was peaceful until one day, my brother took me out to see the moon. Our father forbade us from going out at night, and I had never seen a full moon before,” the knight prince reminisced.

Nol nodded, familiar with this part of the story. The brother showing the moon to his younger sibling for the first time, revealing his ambition for the throne. However…

“From that day, our lives became chaotic…” The blue flame inside the knight’s helmet dimmed slightly.

The two young children clearly remembered seeing four moons in the sky, common knowledge on the continent of Tahe. But on that night, standing atop the pavilion in the garden, they saw only one large, full moon.

A solitary, silver-lit moon.

The children were terrified.

The brother, forgetting his lines, dragged his sibling back inside. The next day, he went to their father early in the morning to report his discovery. The king, thinking it was just a child seeking attention, scolded him for leading his brother astray—but the young prince stood firmly by his brother’s side, insisting they saw only one moon.

No one believed them.

After being reprimanded by adults for a long time, the brother became confused, repeatedly seeking confirmation from his sibling about that night. And his brother, no matter how much he was scolded, always answered with unwavering certainty.

You’re not crazy. You’re not speaking nonsense. I also saw only one moon. It was a very beautiful moon—larger than a dragon’s eye.

Please believe in yourself, believe in me, brother.

The brother hid his swollen palms, repeating this over and over.

Another full moon night. The young brother hugged his only sibling, quietly crying for a long time.

The brother said, Once we grow up, we will be the day and moon of this kingdom, and my glory will also shine on you. I will lead the brave towards the light, and you will guide the lost… as the only moon.

The younger sibling patted his brother’s back.

Sounds wonderful. I will be loyal to you, dear brother.

It was just a fragment… Really just a fragment—like other events the knight could recall.

After that, their lives were like a nightmare.

The two brothers grew up, and the elder became the “War King”. After seizing military power, his behavior began to bizarrely split—

In the morning, he felt the pain of mothers whose children died in battle. At night, he forcefully gathered more soldiers, preparing for an even bloodier war.

One day, he firmly refused to let his beloved brother go to battle. The next, in front of all the ministers, he personally sent his only kin to the fiercest part of the war.

The king was mad. Rumors spread throughout the capital and to the distant armies.

In turbulent times, people suggested the younger brother seize the throne. The loyal younger brother rushed back to the capital, swearing in front of the court to be his brother’s knight.

“I’m sorry.” In the dead of night, the young War King spoke bitterly. “I can’t control myself, brother. Just like feeling sleepy after sunset, I can’t resist it… Every night, I dream about these things—about our past, present, and future.”

“I know,” the knight replied.

Since the full moon incident of their youth, his brother had become much more cautious and would never suddenly turn into a cruel ruler.

“I hate war, but I just know I have to fight like a madman. I don’t want you to leave, to take risks, but I know I must…”

At this point, the War King choked up sadly. “One day, I will have to kill you.”

“I’ve had such dreams too. At some point in the future, I will refuse to go to battle, and you will kill me for it.”

Like when they were young, the knight gently patted his brother’s back. “As if it has already happened, right?”

The War King looked up in shock, trembling lips uttering a curse-like sentence. “If you really are loyal to me, then choose between war and death.”

“Bury me in the Endless Sea. These eyes have seen too much bloodshed. I only wish to sleep in the endless blue,” the knight smoothly gave the answer from his dream.

Tears welled up in the War King’s eyes. He buried his face in his hands, the heavy crown nearly slipping from his head.

“This world is mad,” he muttered. “Everything has been wrong since that moon… All is false…”

“Yes,” the knight gently replied. “Everyone knows there are four moons in the sky. Just like everyone knows, the Endless Sea has been gray-black for thousands of years.”

His gentleness didn’t soothe his brother.

“Then you must leave here! Stay away from me!” the War King yelled. “You can feel these things. Why don’t you leave? Or are you like me, unable to resist—”

“Because I swore loyalty to you.” The knight interrupted him, smiling at the confused king. “And I have to guide the lost. Your fate is much crueler than mine. Let me follow you until the very end, brother.”

“Even if I—”

“Even if you pierce my limbs with golden chains and hang my corpse on the crown.”

The War King’s crown finally rolled off, falling to the ground. With the cruelest nightmare spoken, the young king finally shed tears.

“They all say you and I are blessed by God. A blessing? We’re more like puppets of God. Otherwise, how could you and I end up in such an absurd fate?”

“Maybe it’s all over and these are just memories, dreams… I’m already a hideous monster, and you’re a restless corpse.”

“If we can’t escape our fate, then let’s leave something behind.”

The knight picked up the crown with both hands, gently placing it back on his brother’s head. “We still have things we can change—in the end, people will help us distinguish what’s real and what’s false.”

“Leave something behind?”

“Yes, like a sturdy building,” the knight said.

If their conversation was just a dream, this building would naturally not exist. But if everything… If there was still hope, future generations would see their final struggle.

Finally, a spark appeared in the War King’s eyes. He stood up. “That’s a good idea, brother. I’ll issue the order right now… No, it won’t work.”

The king bit his nails. “After issuing the order, you must cast a mental suggestion on me, making me ignore that building. So even if I go mad again, I won’t destroy it.”

“You already have an idea?” The knight was surprised.

“Yes.” The War King looked at his knight, his gaze softening. “I’ll build a Moonwatching Tower. Just one tower, just one moon, right?”

……

Four full moons hung in the sky.

The undead knight looked up. “You asked about the tower… It was a deep red tower, as straight and slender as an arrow, built near the royal palace.”

“Beside the tower, there’s a small waterfall, surrounded by hundreds of white dwarf trees, and the lawn was full of red flowers. Occasionally, eagles would perch on the tower, creating an incomparable scene. If it really exists, you should know it.”

Shocked, Nol was unable to respond.

He had only intended to ask about the moon, but the knight’s answer far exceeded his expectations.

Now it seemed that Tahe indeed had four moons. Only these brothers were affected by the system, experiencing the illusion of “one moon”.

The problem was, the knight’s subsequent description led him to a somewhat absurd conjecture…

“There is no such tower,” Teest said gravely, clearly realizing something as well. “If there were, it would at least be mentioned in poems. I’ve been to your royal palace. I found no information about any ‘Moonwatching Tower’.”

“Just as I thought.” The undead knight sighed deeply. “My brother was right. It’s all an illusion.”

“After waking up, I suspected… I remember those words, remember that tower, but can’t recall my brother’s face as the king—I only remember him as a child under the full moon.”

Teest looked at Nol, and for the first time, Nol saw uncertainty in the eyes of the Mad Monk.

“Thank you both, for helping us… helping me resolve my doubts.” The knight’s tone was somewhat lonely. “Perhaps from the beginning, it was all just my dream.”

“No! It’s not—”

Nol started to speak quickly, but before he could finish, the blue fire in the knight’s helmet dimmed. The magic’s effect had ended, and the undead knight reverted to his reticent self.

It’s not like that.

From the knight’s words, Nol knew the problem—when they set up a character, they didn’t let it grow up normally, slowly becoming what the game needed.

Just like setting up a boss like the “War King”, they would first create the monster, then instill the background setting as “memories” directly into them.

The production team provided the basic setting. The AI would fill in the details based on Tahe’s specific conditions and related NPC data, creating a “vivid memory” of life.

The brothers’ bizarre memories were likely a conflict between “AI input of Tahe’s environmental information” and “production team’s specified imagery”.

The War King’s personality was completely changed by this small error, but his memory had to follow the setting, forcibly weaving towards a “cruel king”.

After all, the ending was predetermined. All the two brothers could have were memories, not a life.

“To avoid deviation, your two sets of data were probably calculated together.” Nol looked at the undead knight sadly. “It wasn’t just your dream…”

But he didn’t know if the knight could understand now.

“Nol,” Teest suddenly said.

“Yes.” Nol tensed up.

“If I understand your meaning correctly.” The Mad Monk stared at Nol’s lips. “The memories of the brothers from the Past Era of Strife are fake, ‘system’-implanted from the beginning—they were lying in the dungeon from the start, one as a monster, the other as a corpse.”

“…It seems so.” Nol’s voice was dry.

“It’s hard to fake such a thing alone,” Teest continued, almost ruthlessly. “The War King’s palace still exists, and his wars are recorded, involving many historical materials.”

“Right.”

“Does this mean there’s a possibility…” Teest sped up his speech, carefully choosing his words.

“The thousands of years of history of this land were also ‘implanted’? That it has only truly existed for over two hundred years?”

Nol closed his eyes.

“Yes,” he said.

Ever since realizing Tahe was a real world, Nol had put aside this conjecture.

Although he occasionally pondered if this real world had been operating since thousands of years ago. It was strange that the main storyline characters could be born normally just over two hundred years ago.

But along the way, constantly encountering concepts like “oracle” and “fate”, he gradually stopped thinking in that direction—maybe it was “fate” that those people were meant to be born.

After all, this world had its scriptures and ruins. Such a conjecture was hard to prove.

…And now, he had evidence.

It was a terrible time to realize this, Nol thought, looking towards the distant Brick Mountains.

If their conjecture was true, the Demon King wasn’t some weak enemy “defeated by the gods and lay dormant for thousands of years”— it was likely younger than they imagined.

And stronger than they imagined.

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