Those who long for light become light themselves

"Servia, do you remember what I once told you?"

"Enduring darkness is easy, but facing the light again is far harder."

They walked across the ruins of the highland.

Xu Xi and Servia moved forward hand in hand.

The emotionally shattered warrior could no longer control her body well enough to walk steadily. Only by being led by Xu Xi’s grasp could she follow along.

She didn’t understand why Xu Xi had asked.

Her eyes were dull, empty of light: "I remember, Lord Wizard..."

Their steps paused briefly.

Passing by the wreckage of a wizard’s tower, Xu Xi used a spectral hand to sift through the debris, collecting all intact items into his spatial ring.

Wind and sand blew against them, only to be blocked by an invisible barrier.

A cold, black sun hung high above.

It only deepened the despair.

In contrast, Servia’s dim green eyes still held a faint flicker of emotion.

"You said," Servia spoke in a hoarse voice, "that those who linger too long in darkness struggle to readjust to the world beneath the sun."

Xu Xi nodded, affirming her answer.

"When eyes grow accustomed to the dark, the light becomes painful. That’s why returning to it is so difficult."

"Lord Wizard, I... I can do it."

Her dull eyes reacted.

Their owner wanted to prove herself.

Xu Xi smiled faintly and continued leading her forward, his grip gentle yet firm on the skeletal hand encased in armor, guiding her deeper into the highland ruins.

"Servia, the courage to face the light is commendable."

"But it’s not enough."

"Sometimes, the darkness is too vast. We see no light, nor any path forward."

His words paused briefly.

Xu Xi glanced back at Servia, then at the lifeless world behind her.

As if realizing something.

Servia met his gaze.

"Lord Wizard, is there... truly no other way?"

The world’s despair was so overwhelming that even the warrior’s sword-bearing hand trembled.

Xu Xi held her hand.

Once more, he channeled warmth into her undead body—a familiar comfort.

"Servia, sometimes, you need not chase the light."

"Those who yearn for it are already shining."

"Faint, perhaps, but real."

"Servia, I believe that one day, you will shatter this abyss of darkness."

His voice was steady, unwavering in its faith.

Encouraging. Affirming. Lifting the grieving warrior from the depths of sorrow.

The dead were gone.

The past could not be undone.

But now, the warrior could strive to shape the future—to prevent more suffering.

"Lord Wizard, I... I can’t..."

"But I believe in Servia."

Words, it seemed, could indeed grant strength.

Servia, crushed beneath the weight of grief, felt her eyes brighten—a fragile glow born of sorrow and flickering resolve.

She didn’t believe in herself.

But she believed in the wizard who believed in her.

The emerald of Clawphire, dulled by despair, shimmered anew in his presence.

...

[The bitter truth. A hopeless world. A crushing blow to the warrior.]

[Yet because you stood beside her—]

[She found her courage again.]

[With Servia’s aid, your scavenging of the ruins progressed swiftly. Among the treasures were high-tier wizard manuscripts, rare arcane materials, and more.]

[Even the lifeless bones of a soulflame-deprived dracolich became part of your hoard.]

[Half a month passed.]

[You had stripped the highland ruins of all valuables.]

[Servia turned to you, asking their next destination.]

"Lord Wizard... where do we go now?"

Xu Xi had come to the highland for two reasons.

First, to hunt the mastermind behind the calamity.

Second, to seek out more wizards.

But after scouring the land, he learned the truth.

The Seventh-Circle Wizard who orchestrated it all had long since fled.

The high-tier wizards had scattered in exodus.

Now, the world of wizards stood frail and pitiful.

The strongest living beings were mere Third-Circle mages.

And the abyss of the Netherworld loomed ever closer, ready to swallow them whole.

Thus, Xu Xi faced a choice.

Wait for the world’s end and embrace undeath.

Or abandon this world for safer realms.

Heads or tails—neither outcome satisfied him.

He sought a third path.

On the simulator’s interface, visible only to him, Xu Xi revisited the effects of his golden trait:

Soul Harvester (Gold): You are no god of death—yet you surpass one. The souls of those who perish by your hand become stepping stones for your ascent.

Soul Harvester allowed infinite accumulation.

Each harvest was minuscule, but en masse, they formed a tidal wave of souls.

"Millions. Tens of millions. Hundreds of millions..."

"Quantity begets quality. When enough souls gather, even a spark can set the world ablaze."

On the highland, Xu Xi tapped his staff lightly.

Tens of thousands of refined soulflames surged within, cycling endlessly through the gem at its peak.

This was his weapon. His ambition.

Without a red-tier trait, reaching the heights of power before the world’s end was impossible.

But by amassing souls—

One day, his strike would shake the heavens.

Even a legendary wizard might fall before it.

Until then, he had tasks to complete.

Slay more undead.

And secure Servia’s fate—the kind-hearted warrior deserved a happy ending.

"Let’s go, Servia."

"Time is short."

"I plan to build a wizard’s tower. It will be our stronghold."

A Netherfire Crow descended at his call, bearing them into the ashen sky.

The world was silent.

Yet in Xu Xi’s ears, the whispers of the dead lingered—soft, ordinary, walking beside him.

"Thank you, Lord Wizard."

"My wife and I... we’ve lived long enough."

They had smiled, refusing his offer of extended life.

Two aged figures, content in their twilight.

Then the deathly miasma twisted them.

Into shrieking, blasphemous horrors.

They had called his name.

Called Servia’s name.

The memory was indelible.

Seated atop the crow, Xu Xi closed his eyes.

One thought burned within him—

Before this simulation ended, he would land at least one blow on that Seventh-Circle Wizard.