"Servia… Miss Servia…"
"Beautiful Miss Servia…!!"
The bitter wind howled,
whipping up a furious cascade of snow.
The two monsters seemed unaccustomed to their bodies—
staggering, bloodied, and far more savage than their original hosts had ever been. They roared as they lunged toward Servia.
Every cry,
every thundering step,
made the warrior’s body tremble.
"Servia, are you sure about this?"
"Yes. I apologize for the selfish request, but please trust me."
"…Very well. It’s in your hands."
"Thank you, Wizard Xu Xi."
The long silver blade was gripped tightly in her fingers.
So tight that the sword itself quivered uncontrollably.
Servia Clawphire stepped forward, sword in hand, advancing toward the two grotesque figures.
"I’m sorry, Grandpa Hansen… Grandma Mina."
"Please… forgive me."
As she drew closer,
the monsters’ rasping voices grew clearer—words the elderly couple had often spoken to Servia in life.
Now,
with every syllable she heard,
her steps quickened, heavier with each stride.
She could not forgive this. Could not bear the thought of such kind elders denied peace even in death.
Grief and fury intertwined,
burning away all hesitation.
"I won’t… allow you… to defile the dead any longer!!"
The blade gleamed, its edge flashing.
The undead warrior had once ended her own parents’ suffering—a sorrow that never faded, no matter how much time passed.
Perhaps Xu Xi had considered this,
which was why he had intended to intervene directly.
But Servia refused. Refused to turn away from the expectations of the departed.
She could not stand by as the bodies of the elderly were desecrated, could not pretend not to see or hear. Rage surged within her, channeled entirely into her sword.
Why? Why must this world be so cruel, snatching away even the smallest happiness?
Just… why?!
First-Circle Spell: Death Aura Enhancement.
First-Circle Spell: Bone Lightening.
First-Circle Spell: Strength and Speed Amplification.
First-Circle Spell: Edge Sharpening.
First-Circle Spell: Wizard’s Hand.
First-Circle Spell: Soul’s Flicker.
In that moment,
Servia abandoned all thought, pouring every ounce of her power into the spells layered upon her blade.
She moved like a streak of light,
brilliant and blazing.
With a shriek, the sword carved a luminous scar into the gloom, one that refused to fade.
The snowstorm itself seemed to freeze—
only the blade continued forward.
Amidst overwhelming sorrow, she struck with devastating speed, annihilating the two newborn abominations.
It was only natural.
These living corpses, born from defiled remains, were weaker than ordinary skeletons. No match for a First-Circle warrior like Servia.
Yet as the light of her sword faded,
Servia collapsed as well.
Her grip failed. Strength fled. The flames of her soul flickered wildly from emotional turmoil.
"Servia." Someone approached, lifting the undead warrior in their arms.
The last thread of composure snapped.
Her fractured face twisted into broken grief.
Sobbing uncontrollably, Servia buried herself in the only embrace she could rely on, pouring out every ounce of pent-up sorrow.
Xu Xi’s eyes lowered. He patted her back gently,
offering silent comfort to the grieving warrior.
……
[As you resume your journey, you encounter an unusual event.]
[Even after their souls departed for the underworld, the bodies of Hansen and Mina were tainted, reborn as defiled living corpses.]
[You realize: the world’s collapse has accelerated.]
[More deathly energy.]
[More twisted laws of reality.]
[From now on, the world of wizards will grow ever more distorted, until the underworld consumes it entirely.]
[Servia, who personally slew the living corpses, wept bitterly in your arms. Even without a living body, her sorrow was unmistakable.]
[With Servia utterly drained, you had no choice but to carry her, gently placing her atop the Netherfire Raven’s back.]
[As you left the mountains,]
[a mournful wind whispered in your ears,]
[rising and falling like the gentle voices of elders, bidding farewell and gratitude to departing travelers.]
……
[Three days later, Servia recovered from her exhaustion. That battle seemed to have been the final push she needed.]
[Second-Circle Wizard—achieved in an instant.]
[Now a Second-Circle wizard, Servia had unlocked greater potential.]
[Yet she showed no joy, sitting silently beside you for a long, long time.]
"Servia, aren’t you happy?"
"Wizard Xu Xi, I…"
Faced with his question,
the undead girl shook her head despondently.
The Netherfire Raven soared, streaking across plains and mountains. Each beat of its wings stirred fiercer blizzards,
scattering ghostly blue embers in its wake—
like fleeting meteors.
……
[You sense the girl’s melancholy.]
[You explain to Servia: the monsters she slew were not truly Hansen and Mina, but abominations that had stolen their remains.]
[Though destroying the bodies was necessary,]
[it was the only way to grant them peace.]
[Moved by your words, the warrior stirred, shaking off her despair.]
"Thank you, Wizard Xu Xi."
"Now… I won’t hesitate anymore!" Servia clenched her fists, resolve hardening in her gaze.
[Seeing the warrior’s renewed spirit, you nod in approval. She’s full of vigor.]
[Your goal is clear.]
[You steer the Netherfire Raven toward the Divine Plateau—]
[the legendary gathering place of ancient gods, the heart of the wizard world. You seek to witness firsthand the underworld’s encroachment.]
[At the same time, your travels have led you to many abandoned wizard towers.]
[You’ve begun deciphering their structures.]
[The Divine Plateau, as the world’s center, hosts countless wizard factions. You hope to gather knowledge there, refining the final blueprint for your own tower.]
……
Fly.
Fly endlessly.
The sheer vastness of the wizard world surpassed Xu Xi’s expectations.
He was grateful he had modified the Netherfire Raven, relying on the tireless undead as his mount.
Without it,
such long-distance travel would have been impossible.
"They say wizards of the Fourth Circle and above can manipulate space, achieving teleportation through artifacts or unique creatures."
"Unfortunately, I’ve only just reached the Third Circle."
"The Fourth Circle…"
"is still far beyond me."
Xu Xi mused silently, gazing down at the land below.
Dark. Barren. Silent.
Since the return of the Black Sun and Blood Moon,
the world had grown even more sinister. The fragile peace humanity clung to shattered effortlessly against the rising tide of undead.
Along the way, Xu Xi and Servia had intervened where they could.
But it was futile.
A catastrophe of this scale could not be stopped—no matter how many they saved.

m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”