Chapter 98
"So, do either of you have a plan to leave this accursed place?" I asked, sweeping my gaze over Alice and Joan. "Or we just hanging out?"
They stood among the gnarled trees of the Black Forest, their figures barely visible under the sickly light filtering through the twisted canopy. The air hung heavy with damp earth and a faint metallic tang—blood, perhaps. Shadows slithered unnaturally along the roots, and the deeper one peered into the gloom, the more the space seemed to fold upon itself, mocking the very notion of escape.
Joan exhaled sharply, folding her arms. "If it were that simple, we'd already be gone. This place is a dimensional prison, severed from reality. Whoever cast us here made certain we couldn't just walk out."
She explained further. The Black Forest was no ordinary cursed land—it was a sealed domain, a realm of exile. Time ebbed and flowed unpredictably, and distances meant nothing. No matter how far one walked, the scenery remained unchanged, as if the world itself refused to permit an exit.
"Wonderful," I muttered. "Has anyone at least attempted to break free?"
"Our best option was to wait," Joan admitted. "Whoever imprisoned us will come eventually. When they do, we kill them and leave."
I frowned. That was far too passive. The Shadow Clan was fending off an invasion, and my party was in peril—time was not a luxury we could afford.
Before I could argue the point, a deep, theatrical laugh echoed through the glade.
"Oho! To be trapped in such a realm with two divine beauties—surely, the heavens have smiled upon me! In my prime, I would have relished this sight in peace, savoring every moment… But alas! With you here, young master, the pleasure is halved."
The skull strapped to Alice's waist shuddered as it spoke, its tone dripping with lecherous delight.
I narrowed my eyes. The sheer absurdity of its pompous airs, contrasted with its current state—a mere skull dangling from a rope—bordered on ridiculous.
"If a talking skull is your idea of entertainmen, then your desperation must be truly boundless," I said flatly. "Eh… You could do worse."
The skull let out a dramatic sigh. "Ah, young master, you wound me! Once, I was a lord of great renown! Even in death, my appreciation for beauty remains undiminished—"
Alice snapped her fingers.
The sockets of the skull dimmed at once, its voice cut off.
"Enough," she said coldly. "I don't need distractions."
Joan smirked. "Should've done that earlier."
I exhaled slowly, casting aside the brief flicker of amusement. "Waiting isn't an option. We have no way of knowing how time flows outside while we remain trapped here. There must be another way out."
Alice and Joan exchanged glances but did not refute me.
The question remained—what path led out of this forsaken realm?
Closing my eyes, I reached inward.
"Lu Gao, what do you know of this place?"
A pause. Then, his voice resonated within my mind, steady yet thoughtful.
"The Black Forest… I have only heard whispers. It was once a sacred land of the Black Imperial House, a place of immense significance. But it was lost during the Empire's great calamity. No one knows precisely what transpired, only that entry was severed and the Black Clan suffered dearly for it."
"How so?"
"Without their sacred ground, the Black Clan was left vulnerable. Many saw it as a sign of heaven's abandonment. For a time, they were hunted—prey to those who sought to carve up their remaining power. Even now, that belief lingers. There are those who still see them as a remnant, a shadow of what once was."
I frowned. A sacred land turned prison… or had it always been a prison?
Opening my eyes, I looked to Joan and Alice.
"So? Any ideas on how to leave, aside from waiting for our captors to arrive?"
Joan shook her head, her expression resigned. "If it were that easy, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Alice, however, focused on something else entirely. Her crimson gaze locked onto mine, and her voice dropped to a quiet murmur.
"Do you remember our Blood Pact?"
I tensed.
Now? Of all times?
This wasn't the moment for it, but I wasn't foolish enough to dismiss her outright—not even with Joan here. Named NPCs in LLO had always been built differently.
"I remember," I said carefully. "If I were to find a cure for your vampirism, you would owe me a great debt."
Alice's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Yes. And?"
I exhaled. "I don't even know what the reward is supposed to be. It was one of those quests with a 'mystery reward,' wasn't it? So… let's just say my motivation to complete it isn't exactly high."
Alice hummed, as if entertained. "And the penalty? Are you truly willing to risk the consequences of breaking a Blood Pact?"
I hesitated.
I could only hope there wasn't one. That she wouldn't turn on me the moment I failed.
Before I could dwell on it, Alice leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "What's your progress?"
I swallowed.
Truthfully… I hadn't thought about the quest in a long time. Between dueling in LLO, fighting for survival, navigating the Shadow Clan's schemes, and adjusting to this world, it had slipped my mind entirely.
Lying wasn't an option. Not to Alice.
"I'm far from making real progress," I admitted. "But I'm trying."
Alice studied me for a long moment before leaning back, her smirk fading.
"Good. You have an obligation to me. Remember that."
Easier said than done.
But right now, there was a more pressing issue—escaping this wretched forest.
"Now that's out of the way, what's the plan?" Joan asked, arms crossed.
I exhaled, glancing at the twisting trees around us. The Black Forest was an anomaly, a sealed domain with unknown laws. If we were going to escape, we had to understand how it functioned.
"Explore," I said simply. "My Divine Sense doesn't reveal much, but there must be something."
Joan raised a brow. "You sure? This place isn't normal. Walk far enough in any direction, and you'll end up right back where you started. I've seen it. We've experienced it."
"And staying put won't get us anywhere either," I countered. "If this place has rules, we need to discern them. Moreover, you have me—I trust in my Divine Sense."
Alice gave a slow nod. "Agreed. Even the most cursed lands follow some pattern. Let's see what the Black Forest conceals."
Joan sighed. "That's not how Divine Sense works, does it?" She rubbed her temple before gesturing ahead. "Fine. Let's do it your way."
With that, we moved.
The deeper we went, the more unnatural the forest became. The trees weren't merely gnarled—they contorted in ways that defied logic. Some spiraled endlessly, others fused into grotesque, knotted masses. The ground beneath us was not soft with soil, but with something unsettlingly pliant—almost like flesh.
A few steps in, I noticed something else. Our footprints vanished the instant they were made, as if the land itself refused to acknowledge our passage.
The air thickened, laden with the scent of rot, yet it wasn't the simple decay of wood or carcass. No, this was something older. Something tainted.
Joan brushed a hand against the bark of a nearby tree—only to recoil. "It's warm," she muttered, her voice tinged with unease.
Alice narrowed her eyes, then turned to me. "See that?"
I followed her gaze.
At first, I wasn't sure what she meant. Then, as I focused, I saw it.
The shadows between the trees weren't merely shifting. They were watching.
I halted. "We're not alone."
Joan followed my gaze and stiffened. "I was hoping I was imagining that."
Alice's fingers twitched near her sword. "No. This place is alive."
If I treated this like an instance dungeon, there had to be a way forward.
The key to clearing an instance wasn't just wandering aimlessly—it was about understanding its mechanics. The Black Forest wasn't merely a physical space; it was a construct, designed with intent, whether by nature or by something greater. The shifting shadows, the vanishing footprints, the unnatural warmth of the trees… none of it was random.
I exhaled, steadying my thoughts. "If this place follows dungeon logic, there's a way forward. We just have to figure out what triggers it."
Joan shot me a look. "Dungeon logic?"
Alice, however, understood immediately. "You mean progress isn't about movement—it's about conditions."
I nodded. "Exactly. If this were a normal forest, we could walk in any direction and eventually leave. But this place wants to keep us trapped. That means there's a requirement. Something we need to do, or something we need to trigger."
Joan frowned. "And how do we find out what that is?"
I scanned our surroundings. The trees, the shadows, the pulsing ground—there had to be a pattern. In dungeons, progression wasn't about aimless movement. It forced engagement. A test, a puzzle, a sacrifice.
I stepped forward, pressing my palm against the bark of a nearby tree. Warm. Faintly pulsing beneath my fingertips. Like a heartbeat.
I pressed harder. The heat surged.
Alice and Joan tensed as the air thickened. The shadows between the trees shifted, their movements growing erratic.
Joan stepped back. "I don't like this."
"Neither do I," I muttered. "But I think this is it."
A dungeon wouldn't allow progress without interaction. And right now, the Black Forest was reacting.
The only question was—what exactly had I just triggered?
Before I could react, the tree swallowed me whole.
One moment, I was standing before its gnarled bark. The next, I was drowning in absolute darkness. The world outside vanished as something pulled me deeper, as if the forest itself had decided I didn't belong. The air was thick, suffocating, pressing against me from all sides.
Not good.
I activated Hollow Point: Incursion.
A pulse of energy surged through my body. In the next instant, I tore through the tree from the inside out. Bark and blackened sap exploded outward as I burst free, landing in a crouch. My breath came sharp, but I was out.
Alice barely spared me a glance. "They're immune to curses."
Great. So no debuffing them into submission.
Joan, however, had a more direct approach. Raising her staff, she chanted a series of incantations in rapid succession. Multiple golden halos materialized above her, their radiance slicing through the gloom.
Holy Smite. Multi-cast.
A barrage of sacred light rained down, striking the forest floor like falling stars. Wherever the projectiles landed, the twisted trees convulsed, their warped limbs freezing mid-motion. The shadows animating them flickered—then dissipated entirely.
For a brief moment, all was still.
I exhaled, brushing splinters from my shoulder. "So do we touch the trees or not touch the trees?"
Alice shot me a flat look. "Avoid them. Even with our levels and skills, we'll be overwhelmed. There are too many."
She wasn't wrong. The Black Forest stretched endlessly, a sea of cursed trees. Fighting our way out wasn't an option—we'd burn through our resources before we even understood what we were dealing with.
Joan, however, had a different view. "We should give it a try. With you on the frontlines, things change."
I raised a brow. "How so?"
"A Paladin isn't just a damage dealer or a tank," she said. "You're a force multiplier. A proper frontline changes how a battle plays out."
Alice crossed her arms. "That's assuming he's at full strength. He's not."
She had a point. My skills were adapting to this world, but I wasn't at my peak. Especially with me riding Lu Gao… We couldn't afford unnecessary risks, but standing around wasn't going to get us out either.
I mulled it over, then something else crossed my mind.
How did these two even end up here?
I turned to them. "By the way, how did you two get into this world?"
Joan sighed. "Long story."
Alice, however, was more forthcoming. "I traced your existence through our Blood Pact," she admitted. "Then I followed the remnants of the magic that brought you here. It wasn't perfect, but I managed."
Huh. That was interesting. And definitely going to be a long story.
I shook my head. "We'll talk about it later. Right now, we focus on getting out."
A sudden, grating cackle shattered the uneasy silence.
Alice flinched, eyes snapping down to her waist. "You—!"
The skull had woken up.
"Ohoho! What a pleasant nap!" His usual pompous tone was laced with an unfamiliar edge—urgency. "And, oh! Would you look at that! I remember something!"
Joan's grip on her staff tightened. "Spill it. Now. Or I'll grind you into bone meal."
The skull let out an exaggerated gasp. "Such hostility! But very well, since you insist—"
His voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial. "The Black Forest… is no ordinary land. It is, in fact, the remains of a Perfect Immortal!"
I froze. "What?"
The skull cackled again. "Oh yes! You heard me correctly! You are standing upon the corpse of a being who once touched the peak of cultivation itself!"
Joan paled slightly, her usual bravado slipping. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," the skull said, clearly amused by his own joke. "And I highly recommend you never—ever—attack the trees!"
The moment those words left his mouth, the earth shuddered.
I barely had time to steady myself before the air thickened, pressing against my skin like an unseen force. Then, as if the world itself had decided to shift—night fell in an instant.
I looked up.
Two massive moons hung in the sky, staring down at us like unblinking eyes.
No. Not moons.
The sky smiled.
Rows upon rows of jagged teeth formed a saw-like maw, stretching wider than mountains. From its depths, writhing tendrils of grey matter slithered downward, dripping with something dark and viscous.
My grip on my weapon tightened. I took a step back, falling into formation with Alice and Joan.
"Well," I said, voice laced with forced amusement. "Looks like we got ourselves a World Boss."
Joan shot me a sharp glare. "Not funny."
Chapter 99
Hei Mao felt anxious.
The distant echoes of battle rumbled beyond the halls, and though he tried to steady his breath, his fingers twitched at his sides. He wasn't confident—wasn't even sure how skilled he really was. Strong? Weak? Competent? Incompetent? He didn't know.
Elder Yuan had taken a strange liking to him and taught him some stealth techniques, whispering cryptic advice about patience and precision. "Move with intent. See without being seen." But stealth alone wasn't enough.
Big Brother Dai Fu—no, Senior Dai Fu—had taught him how to handle his strength, how to recognize his own limits and push them. "Power without control is self-destruction. Feel the weight of your strikes. Know your enemy."
Big Sister Gu Jie had sharpened his instincts. "People reveal more than they intend. Watch, listen, understand."
And then there was that stupid Big Brother Ren Xun, who, of all things, taught him how to run away. "Retreating is survival. The living have more chances than the dead."
He hated to admit it, but there was wisdom in there words.
Right now, they were inside the Umbral Scripture Hall, the one place they had been permitted to stay. Even with all the knowledge at their fingertips, Hei Mao couldn't focus on any of it.
Instead, he watched Ren Xun as he worked, adjusting and fine-tuning the Puppet Armor—the very same armor that had once been Senior Dai Fu's body.
After a few final tweaks, Ren Xun straightened. "Finished."
Hei Mao stiffened. "So… can we go now?"
Gu Jie shook her head before he could even take a step. "No."
Hei Mao frowned. "Why not?"
Gu Jie crossed her arms. "Because I was put in charge of making sure we stay safe."
Hei Mao scowled, frustration rising. Outside, the Shadow Clan was fighting off an invasion. He wasn't useless—he had trained, learned, adapted. Yet here he was, stuck inside while others risked their lives.
As if sensing his frustration, Ren Jingyi twirled around Gu Jie, her translucent fish-like form floating in her sphere of water. She shimmered, twisting through the air before turning to Hei Mao.
"It will be fine," she whispered, her voice only for him.
He glanced away, unwilling to argue with a fish.
Meanwhile, Ren Xun jerked his fingers slightly, and the Puppet Armor shifted.
The construct's joints groaned as it raised an arm in stiff, jerky movements. Then, with another twitch of Ren Xun's fingers, it adjusted its stance, standing straighter.
Ren Xun let out a slow breath. "I can't believe that worked."
Hei Mao narrowed his eyes. "You sound surprised."
Ren Xun gave an awkward chuckle. "I, uh… had to dismantle some parts of the Floating Dragon."
Hei Mao stared. "What?"
Gu Jie sighed. Ren Jingyi twirled through the air again, humming softly.
Ren Xun just grinned. "Eh. It's fine. Probably."
Hei Mao watched as the Puppet Armor settled into an unnatural stillness. The way it moved earlier—stiff, mechanical—didn't inspire much confidence. If this was supposed to be their trump card, then they were already in trouble.
Gu Jie studied the armor with sharp eyes before turning to Ren Xun. "How long can you maintain control over it?"
Ren Xun tapped the pouch at his waist, considering. "With the spirit stones I have? Probably fifteen minutes, give or take."
Gu Jie didn't hesitate. She reached into her robes, retrieved her own spirit stones, and transferred them to him. "Now?"
Ren Xun weighed the pouch in his hand, furrowing his brow. "Eighteen to twenty minutes."
Gu Jie nodded, as if this outcome was expected. "That's good. In an emergency, we'll at least have a Seventh Realm-level force to rely on."
Ren Xun snorted, shaking his head. "Not exactly. It wouldn't be anywhere near Seventh Realm strength. Might not even be comparable to the Sixth or Fifth." He adjusted his grip on the Puppet Armor's control talisman and shot Hei Mao a glance. "The only reason I can even move it is because of how well-read I am in formations. The problem is… I'm just a Martial Tempering cultivator. If I'm at Second Realm at least, we'd have better chances."
Hei Mao frowned. So it was strong, but not that strong.
Still, it wasn't useless.
"What will it take for us to rejoin the fight?" he asked, glancing between them.
Gu Jie remained silent for a moment. She had let them engage before, running a few hit-and-run tactics—but then, all of a sudden, she had pulled them back.
She sighed, rubbing her temple. "You're too eager."
Hei Mao didn't deny it.
Gu Jie turned to Ren Xun. "What's your take?"
Ren Xun leaned back against a pillar, arms crossed. "I rigged the whole library with whatever talismans I had. Place is well-protected." He shrugged. "Theoretically, we could hole up in here for a while."
Hei Mao opened his mouth to speak, but Ren Xun raised a hand, cutting him off.
"But—that would be strategically unwise."
Gu Jie nodded, prompting him to continue.
"Not using resources when we could use them gives the enemy more chances to win. The library might be safe, but staying in one place means we're reacting, not acting." He smirked slightly. "Not to mention, we're sitting on a lot of valuable knowledge. If the enemy gets in, it's a problem. And trust me, they will want to get in. If not to secure the place and protect them, probably burn the place."
"No," Gu Jie said one word and Ren Xun was quiet.
Hei Mao clenched his fists. The frustration had been building inside him, and he could no longer hold it back.
"Why are we here instead of helping?" His voice came out sharper than he intended, but he didn't care.
Gu Jie turned her gaze toward him.
Hei Mao continued, his jaw tightening. "I need to grab one of those black-masked bastards and ask them what happened. Why my parents, why my sister—why did they have to die like that?" His fingers twitched, itching to draw an arrow. But what would that do? A bow wasn't the right weapon for the kind of confrontation he wanted. If he could, he'd throw it away and carve the truth out of them with his bare hands.
But there was another problem. A simple yet infuriating one.
"For the short time we were out there," he said bitterly, "we didn't even fight a real cultivator. Not one that was alive, at least. I want someon… who can tell me the truth."
That was what disturbed him the most.
The battlefield outside was a nightmare—a legion of undead roamed, as if something had raised an entire graveyard to march against the living.
Where were the black-masked cultivators? Surely they weren't all hiding behind their creations?
"I am sorry, but this is for the best," Gu Jie exhaled and explained. "Because if we were out there, it would only get worse."
Hei Mao frowned. "That—what? That doesn't make any sense."
She met his gaze, her voice calm but firm. "My Sixth Sense Misfortune tells me so."
A chill ran down his spine. He had heard about her ability before, but this was the first time she was relying on it so decisively.
"Misfortune doesn't tell me what will happen," Gu Jie continued, "only that something will happen. And the longer we stay out there, the greater the disaster."
Hei Mao gritted his teeth. He hated this. The feeling of being held back. The thought that somewhere out there, the people responsible for his family's death were walking freely while he sat here, doing nothing.
But Gu Jie wasn't someone who made decisions lightly. If she said it would get worse, she meant it.
And that meant one thing.
Something was coming.
The moment stretched, heavy with an unnatural stillness.
Then, it came.
A shadow shifted by the doorway. Silent. Unannounced. As if it had always been there, watching.
Hei Mao's breath hitched as his instincts screamed at him—danger.
The figure stepped forward, the dim light of the Umbral Scripture Hall barely illuminating his form. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a teasing smile that sent a chill down Hei Mao's spine.
"Wow," the man drawled, voice smooth and amused. "I never thought I'd see you again..."
And then, he locked eyes with Hei Mao.
The world narrowed. A sudden, suffocating pressure settled on Hei Mao's shoulders, and he had to force himself to breathe.
This wasn't a stranger.
This was someone who knew him.
Hei Mao narrowed his eyes and lifted Eye of the Sun, his magic bow radiating a faint golden light as he drew the string, though no arrow had yet formed.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
Before an answer could come, Gu Jie acted. Her Accursed Whip lashed out, striking through the air with lethal speed—
Only to pass harmlessly through the man, as if he were nothing but mist.
The figure chuckled, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, that won't work. I'm just a shadow. My real body is outside, fighting your Master… or at least, a fragment of him."
Hei Mao tensed, his grip tightening around his bow. Master Da Wei?
"Your Master has quite an interesting technique," the shadow continued, tone rich with amusement. "It took a chunk of my forces, but I managed to exile him to the Black Forest."
Ren Xun was breathing nervously, his gaze sharp. "Why do you look so much like Hei Mao?"
The man clapped his hands together, clearly entertained.
"Ah, introductions, right? Let's do that properly."
There was something unbearably casual about his tone, as if he were indulging them rather than answering seriously.
"I am Shenyuan," he declared. "Founder of the Abyss Clan… and the late Patriarch of the Shadow Clan."
Hei Mao's breath hitched. The late Shadow Patriarch?
Shenyuan strolled around the hall, his gaze tracing the intricate formations and talismans etched into the walls and floor.
"Hmm… these resemble the work of the Heavenly Eye quite a bit."
Ren Xun frowned. "You mean the Grand Emperor, right?"
Shenyuan scoffed, waving his hand as if brushing away dust. "So that's what he's called now? Almost forgot."
There was something unsettling about the way he spoke—like someone recalling an old acquaintance rather than a legendary figure.
Then he sighed, shaking his head in exaggerated lament.
"A shame I can't be here with my main body. The formations and talismans here are quite the divine work of a genius."
Ren Xun scoffed. "Don't call me that. That word is reserved for people who are truly special."
Shenyuan smirked. "How humble."
Gu Jie's frown deepened, and sweat glistened on her brow. She didn't speak, but her grip on the Accursed Whip tightened.
Ren Xun, for all his usual bravado, wasn't unaffected either. His fingers twitched slightly, but he still maintained a steady pace, adjusting his glasses with an air of calm. "Are you his father?" he asked.
Shenyuan laughed. "What an odd assumption."
Hei Mao scoffed before the shadow could continue. "I know what my father looked like."
"Ah, so cold!" Shenyuan clutched his chest in mock hurt, before flashing an easy grin. "But you're right. I am no father to you. Merely an ancestor, that's all. Distant, yet ever-present in your bloodline."
Hei Mao's eyes widened. Something clicked.
Like a whisper in the void, a raving voice stirred at the back of his mind. His past—his past as a ghost—peeked out from the depths of his memories, ugly and raw.
The words tumbled from his lips, almost incoherent. "That's my body," he murmured, staring at Shenyuan.
The realization clawed its way out of him, spilling into the air, louder.
"That's my body."
Again.
"That's my body!"
Memories flooded in—his parents, his twin sister. The warmth of family. The security of home. Then the horror. The day it was all stolen from him. The day his own body was possessed.
A suffocating dread gripped his chest. The murky, half-forgotten images of that time became clear—sharpening like a blade against the whetstone of his fractured mind.
"No! No!" Hei Mao choked, his breath ragged.
A tide of wickedness, dark and suffocating, crashed into him. He remembered the moment his heart was filled with terror and rage—how he had watched everything he loved burn.
How he had dragged his little sister's lifeless body from the ruins.
How he had slit his own throat.
How he had sundered his own soul.
Shenyuan clicked his tongue, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment. "If not for that meddling fragment of Da Wei, my main body would already be here, tearing through these defenses. Impressive work, by the way. Immaculate, even. But ultimately futile in the face of my might. Hey, your Masyer is putting up quite a fight."
Hei Mao barely heard him.
His breath quickened. His chest rose and fell, uneven. A sickening sensation crawled up his throat, and suddenly, he was there again—his fingers wrapped around his twin sister's neck, her struggling form beneath him.
He felt it. The resistance. The terror. The way her small hands had clawed at his arms, the light in her eyes dimming as he—
"No… no…" His knees buckled, and his vision swam as inky black tears rolled down his face.
"Hei Mao!" Gu Jie's voice snapped through the haze, sharp as a blade. "Shut up, you bastard!" she roared at Shenyuan, her whip coiling and tightening with barely restrained fury.
Ren Jingyi twirled through the air, the fish's ethereal form gliding in a soft, reassuring glow. "It's okay, Hei Mao," she said, her voice soft yet insistent. "Everything will be okay."
A familiar warmth settled over him as her Bless spell took effect. Light pulsed through his body, clearing the suffocating weight from his chest. The inky black tears rising from his eyes turned to mist and dissolved into nothing.
Hei Mao steadied himself, fingers curling into fists.
He stared directly at Shenyuan, his eyes burning with newfound resolve.
"Why did you kill my family?" His voice was steady. Cold.
Shenyuan sighed, rubbing his temple as if the question exhausted him. "Why else?" he said lazily. "To erase any evidence of my escape. If the Heavenly Eye had found me, I'd have been ended long ago. Simple self-preservation, really."
Hei Mao's fingers curled tighter around Eye of the Sun, his knuckles stark white against the dark wood of the bow. His voice was steady, but the fury beneath it trembled like a drawn string ready to snap.
"I will kill you."
Shenyuan shrugged, entirely unbothered. "Nah, I'm all good."
Before anyone could react, his form collapsed into a formless shadow and lunged—not toward them, but toward the Puppet Armor.
Ren Xun blanched. "Fuck."
The runes carved into the armor flared to life, reacting to the invasion, but it was too late. The dark mass seeped through the cracks, vanishing inside like ink bleeding into paper.
The armor twitched.
Then, Shenyuan's voice echoed from within, smooth, amused. "No worries, I'll kill you last."
The Puppet Armor's joints creaked as it took a step forward, its dull metal eyes igniting with an unnatural gleam.
"And as for the kid, the lass, and the fish?"
The armor lurched, raising a hand that crackled with stolen power.
"Farewell."
Chapter 100
The Black Forest groaned around us, its trees shuddering like creatures in agony. A chill ran down my spine as I gazed at the sky—or what should have been the sky. Instead, it was occupied by a grotesque visage, a twisted mockery of a face so vast that it seemed to stretch across the heavens. Its eyes, if they could be called that, were unfocused, unseeing, yet I felt its presence pressing down on us. From the storm-choked clouds above, writhing tentacles descended, their slick forms glistening in the unnatural light. And beneath that yawning maw—gods above—it was the stuff of nightmares.
"SUSTENANCE. FOOD. FOOD. FEED. SUSTENANCE."
The thing above us had two eyes—two massive, staring orbs that dominated its grotesque face. And yet, they were more than just eyes. They were the moons themselves.
"FOOD. SUSTENANCE. FOOD."
Each moon, once distant celestial bodies, now bore countless smaller eyes opening an closing across their surfaces like blooming flowers of pure horror. They pulsed with eerie light, gazing down at us with unfathomable intent. The sky itself seemed to breathe, shifting as if alive, as the tentacles slithered down from the storm-laden clouds.
I exhaled sharply. "Anyone got a weapon to spare?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the horror above. "Better yet, anyone have a Featherhome?"
Joan scoffed, shaking her head. "If only. I no longer have the blessing of the Lost Supreme and have lost access to my Item Box. So no, I don't have a Featherhome."
I grimaced. That was expected, but still frustrating. Back in LLO, NPCs always referred to the game mechanics as 'Blessings' fof the Lost Supreme. Players loved abusing the 'World Map ' 'Fast Travel,' 'Item Box,' 'Voice Chat'—a list of things that made life so much easier for the sake of gameplay.
Those were all gone. No easy escapes. No teleportation.
They weren't completely gone—I could still use some of them. Voice Chat worked fine, but something like Item Box? That required my main body. And as for Fast Travel or World Map privileges… well, those were as good as useless now.
I let out a breath, trying to steady myself. "I was hoping we'd have a bit more time to prepare for this fight."
Alice stepped forward, her expression unreadable, and reached into her Shadow Space. A flicker of darkness coiled around her fingers as she pulled out a weapon—a single-edged katana, its ominous presence almost tangible. The blade shimmered with an eerie light, its surface like a deep, endless abyss.
I accepted it with a nod. "Much appreciated."
Joan adjusted her grip on her reins, her unicorn shifting nervously beneath her. "You're thinking about what's the biggest thing we fought back in LLO, aren't you?"
"Yeah," I admitted. "This guy's definitely on my top ten."|
I stretched out my Divine Sense, trying to get a better feel for what we were up against. The sheer scope of it made my stomach turn. It wasn't just large—it was as if we had been transported to an entirely separate celestial body. My senses struggled to grasp the enormity of it.
The ground trembled. Roots as thick as city streets burst forth, cracking the earth as they spread like the grasping fingers of a buried titan. And from above, the tentacles lashed downward, moving not with intelligence, but instinct.
It wasn't attacking us because it recognized us as a threat. It was simply reacting, like a dead immortal's body twitching long after there soul had faded.
"Move!" I barked, activating Zealot's Stride. My body surged forward, mana thrumming through me as I dashed across the battlefield, leaping over the grasping roots.
Alice soared above me, her vampire wings unfurled, carrying her with effortless grace. Joan spurred her unicorn into motion, the beast galloping through the chaos, its hooves leaving faint ripples in the air.
We weren't ready for this fight.
But ready or not, we had no choice but to fight.
I surged forward, Flash Step propelling me through the battlefield in rapid bursts. Twisted, malformed trees lunged at me with claw-like branches, their gnarled limbs reaching as if they hungered for flesh. I swung my katana in swift, precise arcs. The blade cut cleanly, cleaving through the unnatural wood with ease.
I had no idea what this weapon was called, but it was sharp, unnaturally so. A legendary weapon at the very least.
To my side, Alice reached into her Shadow Space and pulled out a pole weapon—long-handled, with a curved blade gleaming ominously under the flickering light of the corrupted moons. I recognized the shape.
"A naginata?" I muttered.
Alice smirked. "Close enough."
Further back, Joan kept her distance, her unicorn galloping effortlessly across the battlefield. She was multitasking—one hand gripping the reins, the other casting Holy Smite and Holy Arrow with practiced ease. Every spell she flung burned with divine brilliance, searing through the twisted creatures around us. Multi-casting made it look effortless.
I exhaled and activated Holy Aura.
A golden radiance pulsed outward from my body, washing over the battlefield like a tide of faith. The effect was immediate—Alice's strikes became sharper, Joan's spells burned brighter, and even my own movements felt lighter. The malformed trees recoiled, their grotesque limbs blackening as if the very presence of my aura was an anathema to their existence.
This skill wasn't cheap. Holy Aura strengthened allies while suppressing enemies, but it was eating into my already limited resources.
I had two Spell Slots. One was already dedicated to Divine Possession, keeping my hold over Lu Gao intact. That left me with only two uses for Ultimate Skills.
And then—laughter.
It wasn't coming from anything on the ground.
The sky itself was laughing.
A deep, resonating mirth rumbled through the air, shaking the earth beneath us. The grotesque face looming above split into something resembling a grin, its countless eyes crinkling at the edges. More of its writhing tentacles slithered downward, unfurling from the clouds like grotesque appendages.
And from their depths, humanoid figures descended.
Tall, emaciated beings with octopus-like heads, their slick skin glistening as they touched down with unnatural grace. Their limbs were long and thin, each hand ending in elongated, barbed fingers. Their mouths—if they had mouths—were hidden beneath masses of shifting tentacles.
They stood silently for a moment, their eyes—bulbous and unblinking—locking onto us.
Then they moved.
I gritted my teeth and tightened my grip on the katana. "Great. Just what we needed."
Alice twirled her naginata, a dark grin spreading across her face. "Looks like they want to play."
Joan exhaled sharply, lifting her hand as divine light gathered in her palm. "Then let's not disappoint them."
The sky laughed again.
"FOOD. SUSTENANCE. FLESH. DRINK. ALL. ALL. ALL."
Its voice was not a sound but a force, an overwhelming pressure that crushed against my thoughts, trying to drown them in endless hunger.
"LIFE IS A CYCLE OF CONSUMPTION. ALL THAT LIVES EXISTS TO BE TAKEN. GIVE YOURSELVES TO ME. RETURN TO THE VOID. RETURN TO THE EVERLASTING FEAST."
The laughter returned, echoing through the air like a thousand voices all speaking at once—some whispering, some shrieking, some merely exhaling in grotesque satisfaction. The moons—its eyes—rolled in their sockets, shifting their gaze from us to the land around us, as if sizing up a banquet.
"FEED. ENDURE. YOU WILL NOT DIE. YOU WILL BECOME. JOIN THE ETERNAL FLESH. LIVE FOREVER IN ME. RETURN TO THEE."
I clenched my teeth, forcing my mind to push back against the waves of madness creeping into my thoughts.
The sky's laughter grew louder.
The octopus-headed creatures moved like a tide, their elongated limbs flowing unnaturally as they charged. But not all of them attacked. Some reached out with their barbed fingers, grasping at the malformed trees around us.
The reaction was immediate. The trees trembled, writhing like living things before the grotesque creatures melted into them. Bark twisted, warped, and split apart like gaping wounds. The trunks bulged as flesh merged with wood, reshaping into something new—something worse.
What had once been vaguely humanoid trees were now hulking monstrosities. Their twisted limbs stretched longer, pulsing with veins of black ichor. Multiple heads sprouted from their bark, a disturbing fusion of wood, flesh, and tentacled horror. Some bore twisted human-like faces, half-formed and frozen in expressions of silent agony. Others had full octopi heads, their tendrils writhing as they snapped at the air. Their bodies groaned like bending timber, but their movements were disturbingly fluid, their forms shifting like they weren't fully bound by solid matter.
Alice whistled as she twirled her naginata. "Well, that's disgusting. I've seen necromancers do some patchwork abominations before, but this? This is a whole new level of ugly."
"They're adapting," I muttered, tightening my grip on my sword.
Joan rode up beside us, her unicorn pawing at the ground nervously. "How many spell slots do you guys have left?"
I exhaled. "Still got two. I'll use them if I have to, but I'd rather not—I've got another fight waiting for me after this."
Alice smirked. "Oh, holding back for the grand finale?" She spun her naginata effortlessly, the blade catching the corrupted moonlight. "I've got five left. Though I burned one earlier for an Ultimate Summon."
Joan nodded. "Same. I had six, but I used one already."
"I remember," I frowned. "Yeah… on me… You used it on me, I remember."
Joan gave me an innocent look. "You survived."
"Yeah, after you dropped divine wrath on me."
"Details."
They have a lot of spell slots because they were casters after all.
"So, got a plan?" asked Alice as she hurled a series of Pain Burst multiple times.
I adjusted my grip on my sword, my Holy Aura flickering around me. "I'm thinking."
The monsters didn't wait for me to finish.
One of the twisted tree-beasts lunged forward, its malformed arms stretching unnaturally. I Flash Stepped, disappearing from its path in a burst of speed. The next instant, I activated Zealot's Stride, dashing into a flanking position before the creature could react. My blade ignited with golden light as I swung—Divine Smite. The katana carved through its bark-like flesh, searing it apart with divine energy.
Alice followed up, vaulting into the air with a powerful leap. Her naginata gleamed with dark energy as she slashed through another creature's elongated neck, severing it in a single strike. But instead of collapsing, the thing's wound morphed, sprouting fresh tendrils that whipped toward her. She spun midair, deflecting the incoming strikes with a precise parry before landing gracefully.
Joan stayed mobile, keeping her unicorn galloping as she multi-cast Holy Smite and Holy Arrow. Every spell she loosed burned into the monstrosities, charring their grotesque forms. Even with their regenerative properties, they shrieked in agony, writhing as divine energy ate away at them.
A massive tentacle crashed down from the sky, aiming to flatten us all.
I barely had time to react before I activated Flash Step again, darting away from the impact zone just as the ground shattered beneath the blow. Splinters and debris flew in all directions.
Alice dodged backward, using her unnatural agility, while Joan's unicorn leapt clear, hooves barely touching the fragmented ground before stabilizing midair.
I reappeared beside another abomination and drove my sword straight through its pulsing core. Divine Smite surged through the blade, erupting in a burst of golden flames. The thing convulsed violently before disintegrating, its remnants dissolving into blackened ash.
Alice whirled her naginata, using its extended reach to cleave through multiple creatures at once, her strikes both precise and relentless. Joan unleashed a barrage of Holy Arrows, piercing through their heads and torsos.
But the sky was still laughing.
And more of them were coming.
This was becoming pointless.
I cut down another one of those twisted, tentacle-infested tree monsters, only for three more to take its place. Their numbers were relentless, and while their attacks weren't particularly powerful, their sheer durability and disruptive nature made them a serious problem.
The worst part? Even a slight graze from them would dispel or disrupt any skill activation. I could feel it each time one of their attacks passed too close—like an oppressive force pressing against my mana flow, threatening to collapse any spell mid-cast.
At least they couldn't cancel my Divine Possession outright. If they could, Lu Gao would be a sitting duck right now.
Still, their durability was absurd. I'd say each of these monsters had the defense of a Sixth Realm cultivator, and to make matters worse, they shifted randomly under parameters I still didn't understand. One moment my attacks would carve through them like butter, the next they'd harden like stone, barely flinching under my Divine Smite.
I clicked my tongue and Flash Stepped back beside Alice and Joan. "This isn't working. We need to find a weakness fast."
Alice spun her naginata, flicking blackened ichor off the blade. "Go for the eyes?" she suggested, her tone almost playful. "Always a classic."
I followed her gaze upward—to the moons. Those massive, unblinking eyes staring down at us from the sky, shifting and pulsing like living things.
"...That's quite something," I muttered. "We'd need something big to even make a dent."
"And a way to shorten the distance," Joan added.
Silence fell between us as we processed the problem, while we fought the monsters.
Then Joan snapped her fingers. "Mass Teleport."
Alice shook her head immediately. "Not possible. Space is all messed up here and you know it. I can't even use simple spatial tricks—no way you're pulling off something that large-scale."
Joan narrowed her eyes. "I should be able to do it… if I limit it to just this battlefield."
I frowned, considering her words. "You sure?"
Joan shrugged. "Nope. But I can try."
I sighed. That left me with one option.
"I've got something big," I admitted. "But I need two minutes to channel it."
Alice quirked an eyebrow. "That long? Sounds troublesome."
"Yeah. You got anything better? I could channel it while fighting but these monsters have 'dispel' in their touch, so yeah, no… Troublesome is an understatement."
Alice smirked, then cursed herself.
And I don't mean that figuratively. She literally cast Curse and Greater Curse on herself, stacking all sorts of debuffs onto her own body. Her aura grew darker, twisting unnaturally. The air around her distorted, as if it wasn't sure what to make of her anymore.
"I also have something, but I would need time," she said. "I should be able to chain a few spells."
Ah. That kind of setup.
Whatever she was planning, it involved some kind of combo—one that required her to be in an absolutely wretched state before activating it.
Joan watched her with a mixture of fascination and concern. "I don't have the firepower you two do, but I can hold the line while you both get your stuff ready."
I nodded. "Then let's do this."
Joan took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment. Then she muttered, "Divine Descent."
I frowned. Divine Descent? That was… unexpected. Her patron god was related to healing—not barriers, not shields. While it would definitely boost her support abilities, it shouldn't be enough to hold against that thing in the sky.
But before I could question her, Joan raised her staff and invoked, "Shield of Faith."
A golden barrier flared to life, surrounding both Alice and me in a protective dome. Holy symbols glowed faintly in the air, shifting and rotating like celestial engravings. It wasn't just resilient—it felt absolute. A fortress of divinity.
Joan exhaled softly and whispered, "Invoke: Divine Right."
My thoughts screeched to a halt.
Wait. What?
I remembered a certain cinematic promotion of LLO, when it first introduced the Lost Gods. A rush of power surged outward from Joan, rippling through the battlefield like a divine proclamation. The aura surrounding her shifted, deepened, changed. It wasn't just a buff. It was something far greater.
She wasn't just borrowing an aspect of her patron.
She was staking a claim.
Joan's voice rang out clear and unwavering: "I challenge the seat of Godhood and draw upon the Divine Authority of Ephryn, Goddess of Love, Healing, Fertility, and Loyalty."
I was shell-shocked.
In LLO, using Divine Descent allowed a character to borrow an aspect of their patron, granting them powerful buffs based on the deity's nature. But this—this wasn't just borrowing.
Joan was claiming the goddess' power for herself.
Alice whispered to me, her voice barely audible over the rising storm of energy. "Let her do her job."
I glanced at her, seeing the seriousness in her gaze. She wasn't surprised. She knew.
Alice continued, "A lot has changed in Losten. Dead gods. Ending worlds. The Great Enemy making their moves. Joan's making hers. If she'd succeed, we don't know."
I swallowed my questions and focused on the battlefield.
Joan's blonde hair shimmered, taking on a brighter, almost ethereal sheen. A halo flickered to life above her head, spinning slowly, radiating a gentle yet overwhelming presence. Her clothes shifted, transforming into something more… divine. Flowing, adorned with golden embroidery—yet shockingly revealing for someone once so modest. The classic look of a newly ascended goddess.
She thumped her staff against the ground, her voice steady as she commanded, "Empower: Shield of Faith."
A second layer of holy protection shimmered into existence, reinforcing the first. Then Joan raised her staff again, invoking more barriers in rapid succession:
"Dome of Deniability." A shimmering dome expanded outward, warping reality around us, hiding us from fate's gaze.
"Protection." A radiant veil settled over our bodies, resisting curses and corruption.
"Holy Barrier." Layers upon layers of divine defenses stacked, turning the battlefield into a fortress of faith.
Then the sky screamed.
Not a rumble. Not an earthquake. A voice.
"YOU CHEAT. YOU CHEAT. YOU CHEAT. YOU CHEAT."
My frown deepened. I hadn't thought the thing was truly conscious—more like a corpse moving out of instinct. But this?
This was rage.
The two moons in the night sky twisted and stretched, forming grinning mouths filled with massive, smiling teeth—the kind you'd see on a cow.
Then, with a grotesque rip, the mouths opened—and from within, giant arms burst forth.
The massive hands reached down, each larger than a fortress, and smashed against Joan's defenses with terrifying force.
The ground shook. Reality shuddered. The air trembled under the sheer weight of their power.
Joan stood firm.
Her barriers held.
The earth cracked.
A terrible shudder rippled through the land, and the air itself seemed to fracture. The twisted trees, the writhing octopi, the monstrous amalgamations—all of them disintegrated into ash, their forms unable to withstand the sheer wrongness that was being revealed.
Above us, the twin moons contorted, revealing a pair of faces. One was sad and the other was happy. Too suddenly, their faces twisted into expressions of pure madness.
They stared at each other, eyes wide and unseeing, their grotesque mouths opening in unison to let out wailing sobs.
And then, they began to devour each other, arms flailing around.
Flesh folded into flesh. Teeth crunched against bone. The sky itself bled as the moons consumed themselves, screaming in anguish, in ecstasy, in something beyond mortal comprehension.
And when the feeding was over, when the heavens had collapsed into themselves—there was nothing left but a writhing mass of flesh.
It quivered, a pulsing blob of shifting forms, as if the essence of the sky itself had been reduced to a single tumor.
Then, the filth began to rise.
From the remnants of the grotesque fusion, a figure emerged.
A naked giant, its sheer size dwarfing the landscape, standing tall as a skyscraper.
His skin was a deep, sickly purple, devoid of genitalia, of anatomy, of humanity. Instead, his entire body was covered in faces.
Hundreds. Thousands.
Each one squirmed and twisted, their mouths moving in silent screams, in whispered prayers, in pleas for the Everlasting Feast to never stop.
I felt my stomach churn.
The mad thing grinned—not with its mouth, but with its entire existence.
And then, without hesitation, it reached out—grabbing onto the outermost layer of Joan's divine barrier.
And shattered it.
Joan screamed.
Blood poured from her mouth as her body convulsed from the backlash.
I cursed. She stacked multiple barriers, but that thing—
Joan gritted her teeth through the pain, raising her trembling hands. And then, she spoke an Ultimate Skill.
"Divine Word: Rest!"
A pulse of absolute authority surged outward.
The mad thing staggered.
One of the faces on its body froze—its expression going slack, its eyes closing as it fell into an unnatural slumber.
But the rest of them…
"FOOD. FOOD. FEED. FEED."
The monster laughed.
The faces on its writhing body still screamed, still cried for sustenance—but slowly, one by one, more and more began to fall asleep.
It jerked, its movements growing sluggish, its form trembling with something that almost resembled panic.
It knew.
It knew that if too many of its faces fell asleep…
It would be helpless.
The monster howled, clawing at the ground, slamming its hands against the barriers, desperate to shatter them.
Joan gritted her teeth and cast another.
And another.
Each time the monster broke a barrier, Joan coughed more blood.
Her divine radiance dimmed with each blow.
Her body shook as the strain of channeling Divine Descent and an Ultimate Skill at the same time was tearing her apart.
I frowned. This wasn't just backlash—it was True Damage.
If this continued, Joan was going to die.
The two minutes were up.
The last of the monster's countless faces fell silent.
Its grotesque, skyscraper-tall body lurched—unsteady, its movements now sluggish. The nightmare of shifting flesh and screaming mouths staggered, its knees crashing into the ruined earth.
It slumbered.
I exhaled. Finally.
Alice let out a breath as well, her hands shaking as she bagged her naginata back into her Shadow Space.
Her hair had gone completely white.
Her once vibrant pink hair had turned ashen, her usually pale skin now hollow and sunken. She looked… ancient. A corpse at death's door.
I frowned and reached for my the sword—the one she had loaned me. Without a word, I handed it back.
"I don't need it anymore," I told her.
Alice stared at it for a moment before silently taking the blade and storing it away.
Then, she muttered a quiet incantation, barely above a whisper.
"Curse Reversal."
A tremor of power rippled outward.
Alice's body shook—her brittle frame suddenly surging with vitality.
The color of youth returned to her cheeks, her withered hair growing long and glossy again, flourishing into soft pink strands. The fatigue and decay that had drained her moments ago were erased in an instant.
Her aura blazed.
The air shuddered from the sheer force of her presence, the weight of overwhelming power pressing against reality.
Alice flexed her fingers, rolling her shoulders as her lips curled into a sharp smirk. "Much better," she said.
Then, she lifted her palm.
A straw doll materialized within it—a grotesque mimicry of the slumbering giant.
She muttered, "Malevolent Grasp."
A phantasmal hand—withered, skeletal, and rotting—manifested in the air and clamped around the doll, squeezing with vice-like force.
Alice's eyes gleamed. With a slow, deliberate motion, she crushed the effigy between her fingers.
"Wretched Effigy."
The effect was instantaneous.
The monster screamed.
Every single face on its twisted, fleshy body contorted in agony, their silent slumber shattered by overwhelming pain.
Half of its body turned to ash.
The sheer damage was unreal—so much so that the monster jerked upright, shrieking.
"FOOD… FOOD HURTS ME—!!"
The nightmare was awake again.
The ground trembled as fresh abominations sprouted from the blackened dirt—trees twisting into humanoid horrors, their faces eerily blank.
I narrowed my eyes. Enough.
I reached within, drawing upon the demonic taint buried in Lu Gao's soul.
The dark essence coiled at my command, responding to my will as I fused my Ultimate Skill with the principle of his technique.
I raised my arm, gathering every ounce of faith within me.
And then, I closed my hand into a fist as I spoke.
"Final Adjudication."
Power gathered.
The husk around us disintegrated.
The very dirt blackened, rotting from the inside out before crumbling into ash.
In an instant, the entire wretched forest collapsed—the monstrous trees, the faceless horrors, the land itself—all reduced to dust.
A lifeless, gray desert of ash remained.
The already night sky, further darkened as if it couldn't get any darker.
Golden cracks split the air—fracturing reality itself.
From those fractures, radiant power bled through.
A colossal presence loomed over the battlefield—unseen, yet undeniable. The weight of divine authority pressed upon existence itself, making even the air strain and vibrate.
Hymns resounded.
Rings of celestial scripture spiraled around me, inscribed with ever-shifting verdicts, glowing with the absolute decree of law.
The very air trembled under the force of my judgment.
Then—
Golden chains of light lashed out.
They snapped forward, piercing through the void, twisting like serpents before they coiled around the monster's form.
It screamed.
The space around it burned.
Above us, the heavens trembled, and a colossal Scales of Judgment materialized.
The weight of karmic balance pressed down upon the battlefield, an omnipresent force that no existence could escape.
The monster struggled.
It thrashed against its bindings, writhing like a dying insect trapped in a spider's web.
But it was useless.
The golden chains darkened, the divine power reflecting the corruption of Lu Gao's Incursion technique. The monster's own internal energy—tainted, mad, and insatiable—began to rebel against itself.
It was being consumed from within.
The faces screamed.
The monster shrieked, its cry rising to the heavens, its final desperate plea echoing across the broken world.
"THIS IS UNFAIR—!!"
The chains tightened.
The Scales of Judgment tipped.
And the monster was erased.
Chapter 101
Hei Yuan's voice rang with desperation, his cry cutting through the chaos of battle.
"What's the meaning of this?! Shadow Patriarch Hei Ben—"
The man in Dave's grasp let out a deep, mirthful chuckle, tilting his head as if amused by the accusation.
"Ah… yes, I was called that once, wasn't I?" His voice dripped with nostalgia, but there was no warmth in it, only amusement at Hei Yuan's disbelief. "But names are shackles, and that one is no longer fitting for me. Please call me by my divine name." His grin widened as he leaned in slightly. "You may call me… Shenyuan."
Hei Yuan trembled, his face pale. His breathing hitched, his composure shattering as tears welled in his eyes. "Why…? Why did you do it?" His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "Why corrupt Hei Mu? Why take away Patriarch Hei Ten and turn him into… into that?!"
Shenyuan sighed, almost bored. "You're so noisy, little Yuan. Let's do something about that."
Hei Yuan's body convulsed violently as black miasma erupted from his seven orifices—his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth spilling forth the foul essence of corruption. His screams turned to gasps as his body stiffened, then fell like a broken marionette, plummeting into the lake below.
Splash!
One of the Shadow Clan cultivators darted down, catching Hei Yuan before he could sink, retreating to the rear lines. But the sight of their leader falling shook the defenders, and the undead pressed forward with renewed aggression.
Dave's grip on Shenyuan's throat tightened, his voice steady despite the fire of holy energy coursing through him. "What did you do?"
Shenyuan merely smiled, unbothered by Dave's strength. "What I had to. What I was meant to. You see, boy, I am the Abyss Clan. I am the Black Clan. I am the Shadow Clan and the One True Death." His eyes gleamed with a mad certainty. "I am the rightful heir of the Eternal Undeath Cult, and I will stop at nothing to reclaim my place in the Infinity."
Dave's expression remained unreadable, but his grip did not loosen. He could feel the aura of something ancient, something deeply wrong emanating from this man.
This wasn't just a battle over the island anymore.
It was a battle for the fate of the Shadow Clan itself and the rest of the Deepmoor Continent.
Shenyuan's smirk didn't waver, even as Dave ignited Searing Smite in his palm. Holy flames wreathed his gauntlet, the heat searing the air itself. Without hesitation, he clenched his fist, attempting to burn his foe with righteous fire.
But Shenyuan merely laughed. His body blurred, dissolving into shadow before slipping past Dave's grasp like mist through his fingers.
"Thunderous Smite."
Dave swung Silver Steel, still empowered by Heavenly Punishment, cutting through the space where Shenyuan reformed. A jagged arc of lightning and divine force surged forth, crackling with the authority of judgment itself. It cleaved through the battlefield, illuminating the night in blinding brilliance.
The strike landed. Or rather, it should have.
But once again, Shenyuan merely slipped, his form scattering like a phantom, untouched.
He shook his head in mock disappointment. "Useless. You can't harm me." His grin widened, arrogance dripping from every word. "I am invincible. There's no way for you to bypass my intangibility. You cannot strike what does not exist."
Dave exhaled slowly.
Then, he pointed Silver Steel directly at Shenyuan.
"It's over."
For the first time, Shenyuan's smirk faltered.
The night trembled. The heavens themselves seemed to listen.
"Final Adjudication."
Dave had been buying time—just enough time to channel his most powerful area-of-effect spell.
Yes, he had exhausted his every spell slot.
But he wasn't done yet.
His armor's ability—Ephemeral Touch—allowed him to cast Ultimate Skills regardless of cooldown, mana consumption, or spell slots. However, it didn't shorten Final Adjudication's channeling time. That was why he needed every second he could steal.
And now—
A divine verdict was being rendered.
A golden fissure split the heavens, stretching across the battlefield. The very air groaned as reality cracked, bleeding radiant power. Darkness recoiled. The sky turned void-black, swallowing the stars, leaving only judgment.
Then the hymns began.
Voices beyond mortal comprehension sang in celestial harmony, their words not of any known language, yet understood by all.
Rings of celestial scripture spiraled around Dave, inscribed with ever-shifting verdicts, glowing with the absolute authority of divine law. The ground trembled beneath his feet.
The guilty would not escape.
Golden chains of light erupted forth, lashing across the battlefield, seeking those who had sinned against the natural order. The undead—their wretched souls bound to this plane—had no means of resisting. Hundreds. Thousands. They burned in an instant, reduced to nothing but ash.
The black-masked cultivators mixed among the undead fared no better. Those who had defied fate, who had walked the path of forbidden arts, found themselves snared. The chains constricted, dragging them toward judgment.
And Shenyuan—
He, too, was caught.
The space around him twisted, warping as divine light consumed him. His smugness was gone, replaced by something else.
Recognition.
Above them, a colossal Scales of Judgment materialized. It hung in the heavens, its size unfathomable, stretching beyond mortal sight. Its weight bore down on the battlefield, an absolute force of karma manifest.
It was time to weigh the guilty.
A laugh.
Loud. Overwhelming. It echoed across the battlefield, sweeping over the lake, the island, and beyond. A laughter so deep and resonant it sent ripples through the very air.
Shenyuan laughed.
His mirth was not mocking, nor was it derisive. It was genuine amusement, rich with delight. "This power… this righteousness… it sickens me!" His voice rang out, filled with something close to exhilaration.
Dave narrowed his eyes. Final Adjudication was absolute. There was no escape. No way to defy judgment.
Then he blinked.
The golden chains—once wrapped around Shenyuan, constricting him in divine law—were no longer there.
They were wrapped around him.
Dave's breath hitched. His gaze snapped downward, his Silver Steel trembling in his grip. The radiant shackles coiled around his arms, his legs—binding him in celestial scripture, as if he were the condemned.
The hymns continued, unrelenting. The battlefield burned.
Undead wreathed in golden karmic fire howled in agony as they crumbled into ash. Black-masked cultivators writhed, their very souls ignited from within, consumed by the weight of their sins.
Dave looked up at the sky. The Scales of Judgment loomed, its colossal form beyond human comprehension.
He had good karma. That much he knew.
His actions, his path—it was righteous. Wasn't it?
Then, the scale tilted.
An agonizing burst erupted from within him.
Golden karmic flames ignited in his essence.
Dave gritted his teeth as pain racked his soul. Why? This wasn't supposed to happen. This judgment wasn't meant for him. He wasn't guilty!
The fire burned deeper. It didn't just scorch his body—it sought his very being.
With rigid control, Dave began casting Cure in even intervals, his mind sharp despite the agony. Divine Word: Life surged through him, reinforcing his own healing, fighting against his own spell.
Shenyuan tilted his head, watching.
Then, he smiled.
"Let me enlighten you."
His voice was calm, almost gentle, as though explaining something trivial. "What's happening? Easy. I just made it so that we swapped our shadows."
Dave's eyes widened.
Swapped… shadows?
A realization struck him like a blade to the gut. Final Adjudication targeted the guilty. The spell sought karmic weight, and Shenyuan had—somehow—shifted that weight onto him.
He had turned Dave into the condemned.
Shenyuan chuckled. "Impressive spell, though. What did you call it? Ah, yes—Final Adjudication?" He spread his arms wide. "I must say, the chains, it suits you rather well."
The flames raged.
They did not consume his flesh—they devoured his very soul.
Dave roared in agony, his voice raw as the divine fire burrowed deeper, searing into his essence. Final Adjudication demanded judgment, and now it was branding him as the guilty.
And then—he saw.
The visions struck like a blade to his mind, each one sharper than the last.
Bloodied halls.
Shattered families, their corpses strewn across the floor.
Siblings turning against one another, only for all to be slain.
A mother, clutching her child, eyes frozen in horror as her heart was ripped from her chest.
Fathers crushed beneath falling rubble, their screams lost in the chaos.
Entire sects, once mighty, now turned to ruins.
Nations burned, their skies darkened with the smoke of countless pyres.
Dave staggered, his breath choking in his throat. These weren't his sins—they were Shenyuan's.
Yet the weight of them was unbearable.
The sheer vileness of it—the absolute, unrepentant malice—sank into his very bones. It was not just the sight of atrocities, but the emotions behind them. The sheer, unfiltered joy that Shenyuan had felt in the slaughter.
A mind so wretched, so utterly devoid of remorse, that Dave wanted—no, needed—to end it all.
Make it stop.
And then, a voice.
A melody.
Soft.
Slow.
Shenyuan began to sing.
A lullaby. A eulogy.
"Hush, hush, lay down your sword, The weight you bear is much too hard. Close your eyes, surrender your breath, Embrace the peace that lies in death."
"They whisper low, they cry and weep, But all shall rest in shadows deep. No more pain, no more fight, Slip away into the night."
The words were poison.
A creeping, insidious whisper in his mind.
Dave's grip on Silver Steel trembled. His limbs felt so heavy. His heartbeat slowed, lulled by the haunting tune. His mind clouded. The fire still burned—but it felt so distant now.
Just… rest.
No!
With a snarl, Dave gritted his teeth and forced himself forward. He powered through the pain, through the weight, through the suffocating sins that weren't his own.
He swung.
Silver Steel lashed out in a gleaming arc, Heavenly Punishment crackling along its edge as it cleaved through the air toward Shenyuan.
And Shenyuan—he didn't move.
He just stood there, smiling.
Dave's blade struck true—and passed straight through.
Like mist.
Like nothing.
Dave's breath hitched. He swung again—and again.
Each strike, every slash, slipped through Shenyuan's body like cutting through air.
The man remained standing, untouched and utterly unbothered.
Dave's arms shook. His attacks were landing—he could see them hitting—but there was no impact. No resistance.
Shenyuan tilted his head, lips curling into a smirk. "Oh dear. You do seem tired."
His voice was mocking.
"Give up already, foreigner. No one is gonna save you."
The Shadow Clan was losing.
The white fog that once protected the island had been swallowed by dark miasma.
Screams resounded from the island as undead poured in, tearing through defenses like brittle paper. Shadow Clan cultivators fought desperately, but for every undead they slew, two more clawed their way into existence.
The scent of blood and decay thickened the air.
Shenyuan, perched high above, let out a disappointed sigh. "What a pity."
His malicious pitch-black eyes glowed with eerie amusement as he looked over the carnage. "I could have taken the island without so much loss, you know. But you—" he motioned toward Dave, "—just had to ruin it for me."
The flames stopped.
Final Adjudication, his most powerful divine judgment, ceased.
Dave's body convulsed as the last embers of divine energy flickered out. His vision blurred. The weight of exhaustion crashed into him all at once.
And then he fell.
Cold air rushed past his skin as his body plunged from the sky. The next thing he knew—water.
A thunderous splash.
The freezing lake swallowed him whole, its depths dark and endless.
Then—hands.
Clawed, rotting hands.
Undead lurked beneath the surface, their eyes glowing dimly in the abyss. They reached for him, their nails scraping against his flesh.
He couldn't move.
He couldn't fight.
Dave was losing.
No.
He was dying.
His Lordship's body would perish. And it would be his fault.
He had fought.
He had tried.
But he had lost.
He wanted to believe he had no regrets. That he had done everything he could.
But that would be a lie.
He prayed—not for himself, but for the others. He prayed that Gu Jie, Ren Jingyi, Ren Xun, Hei Mao—
That they had escaped.
Then—a hand.
Strong. Unyielding.
It grabbed him, dragging him upward.
The world lurched as he was pulled from the depths, coughing up lake water as he collapsed onto wet sand.
The battle was still raging.
Shadow Clan cultivators were fleeing in panic.
Undead hunted them down.
Figures in dark robes—black-masked cultivators—moved among the battlefield, herding survivors like cattle.
Dave lay on the shore, gasping. He reached for his sword, for the familiar pulse of Heavenly Punishment.
But the moment his fingers brushed Silver Steel—he felt nothing.
The divine power had vanished.
And then, shadows loomed over him.
Black-masked cultivators encircled him, their presence cold and methodical. They did not attack. Instead, they moved in perfect unison, forming two parallel lines as he was forced onto his knees.
And before him—a throne of bone.
It sat freshly constructed, its frame built from the skeletons of fallen Shadow Clan cultivators. The marrow still glistened red, their lingering resentment saturating the air.
Shenyuan sat atop it, resting his chin on his palm. "Hmm."
He tapped his fingers against the armrest, the bones creaking beneath his touch.
"This isn't bad." His lips curled into a smirk. "But I should refine it further. Yes... the resentment in these bones is powerful. This could make quite the treasure."
He chuckled. "Wouldn't you agree, foreigner?"
Snap.
With a surge of strength, Dave broke free.
The black-masked cultivators flinched as he surged forward, Silver Steel in hand, divine energy flickering around his blade. The bone throne shattered beneath his charge as he swung his sword at Shenyuan's neck.
"Shadow Bind."
A whisper.
The world froze.
Dave's body locked in place, his limbs unresponsive. It was as if unseen shackles had seized him mid-strike, anchoring him to the very ground he stood on.
Shenyuan sighed. "Tsk. That was predictable." With a wave of his hand, the throne he was sitting on mended itself.
Dave struggled, his muscles straining. His breath came in ragged bursts, but he couldn't move. Not even an inch.
Shenyuan rose from his throne of bones, brushing nonexistent dust from his robes.
"That armor of yours... it's wasted on you."
He lazily waved a hand. "Take it off him."
The black-masked cultivators advanced. Hands reached for Dave's armor—grasping, pulling, prying.
Nothing happened.
They grunted and applied more force—still, nothing.
Shenyuan's brow furrowed. He tilted his head. "Oh?"
The masked lackeys tried again, now with growing frustration. Fingers clawed at the clasps, attempting to remove the plates piece by piece. Yet no matter what they did, the armor remained.
It wasn't their lack of effort.
It simply refused to be taken.
Shenyuan clicked his tongue. "How stubborn. A shame, really. That treasure would be better in my hands."
He sighed, stretching his fingers. "You're leaving me with no choice, Dave."
Then he gestured.
A familiar silhouette approached.
Dave's breath hitched. His eyes widened in disbelief.
It wasn't an undead.
It was his Puppet Armor.
The very gift His Lordship had bestowed upon him.
It moved with unnatural grace, its once-gleaming frame now tainted with dark miasma. The way it walked—it was wrong. Like a marionette, strings unseen.
A sack hung from its grasp.
Dave's instincts screamed.
The Puppet Armor lifted it high—then dropped it.
The sack landed with a sickening thud.
The Puppet Armor, his own armor, knelt down, fingers—his fingers—untying the sack with mechanical precision.
The contents spilled onto the ground.
Two heads.
Lifeless. Pale. Cold.
Gu Jie.
Ren Xun.
Dave stopped breathing.
His knees buckled. His vision blurred.
No.
No, no, no.
His mind refused to comprehend what he was seeing. His stomach twisted into knots, bile rising up his throat. His fingers shook.
A choked sound escaped him. A strangled breath—somewhere between a gasp and a sob.
His heart shattered.
"Huh."
A weak sound.
"Hah."
His chest ached.
"HAAAAH—!"
Tears streamed down his face.
Like a child.
Like a helpless, broken child.
Under his helm, his expression twisted in agony. He knew how pathetic he must have looked.
But he couldn't stop.
He didn't understand why he was crying like this.
In his life before this, he had lost people. Friends. Loved ones.
He had suffered.
But never like this.
Never with this unbearable weight.
His body trembled, wracked with sobs.
He howled. He screamed.
A wreck.
A failure.
He had failed.
Not just His Lord.
But everyone who trusted in him.
Shenyuan leaned back, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his crude throne of bones, watching Dave with something resembling amusement.
"What a pity," he mused, exhaling like a man disappointed by a bad gamble. "I truly thought I'd get my hands on the kid."
Dave's lips parted. His voice came out hoarse, raw from grief. "This is an illusion."
Even as he said it, he reached out with Divine Sense—grasping for some deception, a flaw, a detail out of place.
Nothing.
Cold, harsh reality pushed back against his senses.
This wasn't an illusion.
This was real.
Shenyuan tilted his head with a grin playing on his lips. "You know you're lying. I wonder—are you buying time? Or are you truly that deep in despair?"
Dave clenched his fists. "You don't know despair."
Shenyuan chuckled. "Oh? You think I don't? You're amusing, foreigner. Really, you are." He leaned forward, golden eyes glinting. "Here's the deal—I'll give you a choice. Surrender your treasure, and I'll let the kid go. I won't chase him. And, as a bonus," he smirked, "I won't go after the fish either."
Dave's breath hitched.
Hei Mao.
Ren Jingyi.
They were alive.
A small ember of relief flickered in his chest, but it was crushed beneath rage.
Shenyuan wasn't done. His smile turned almost conversational. "During the time I swapped our shadows, I saw into your life, Dave." He tapped his temple, mockingly. "War. Slaughter. Faith. Your world—it's nothing like I've ever seen before."
Dave said nothing.
Shenyuan sighed, then leaned back, spreading his arms wide. "As a consolation prize for your inevitable death, I'll let you in on a little secret."
His golden eyes darkened.
"This world? It's a prison."
Dave blinked. "...What?"
"The real world," Shenyuan continued, "is out there. Beyond the Infinity."
His voice turned almost reverent, but madness lurked beneath his words. "Greater lifeforms exist in the Greater Universe. Beings of power beyond comprehension. But those gatekeeping bastards—" his fingers curled into fists "—they kept interfering. Blocking my ascension. They don't want me to leave this rotten prison."
His laughter was laced with frustration. "Immortality? It can screw itself. I don't want to live forever. Forever is overrated," He grinned. "I want to be a God."
His gaze snapped back to Dave. "Your armor—your treasure—will help me achieve that. Give it up, and I'll grant you an honorable death. I'll bury you properly, let you rest in peace. You won't have to suffer the indignity of becoming one of my undead."
Silence.
Dave stared.
Then, he laughed.
A low, breathless chuckle at first—then it grew.
Louder. Sharper. A pure, mocking cackle.
The black-masked cultivators shifted uncomfortably.
Shenyuan frowned. "Something funny?"
Dave's laughter didn't stop. It rang through the battlefield, raw and unfiltered.
Then, he spoke.
"Godhood?
"You know nothing about Godhood!
"You never loved. Never were loved. Never cared.
"Did you truly believe people would worship you? Revere you?
"Why?
"Because you have power?
"You are a joke. And the punchline has always been your ignorance.
"Foolish, foolish man!
"People will bow out of fear.
"They will sing lies out of selfishness.
"They will beg for survival.
"But you will never have their souls.
"Their love.
"Their true worship.
"A God?
"Dream on.
"Because you'd never be a God.
"Wake up to reality!"
The battlefield was silent.
And for the first time…
Shenyuan didn't laugh.