The half-built body of the Babel Tower.
Majestic and grand.
Its foundation was stacked with high-energy crystals, granting it excellent levitation properties while maintaining reassuring durability.
Bright light radiated from within,
casting its glow upon the surfaces of numerous automated construction puppets.
The light fragmented, shadows stretched long, and even deep into the night, the puppets continued their tireless work on the tower.
Only this way
could the wizard tower be completed at a relatively swift pace.
Xu Xi sat on a small earthen slope, overlooking his floating tower, discussing the future and key points of wizardry cultivation with Servia.
"Servia, how is your progress on the morphing of soul sigils into particles of light?"
"Yes, I apologize... There are still a few points I don’t fully grasp."
"No need to apologize. Go ahead, I’ll explain them again."
"Thank you!"
The glow of the campfire was like a pair of gentle, hazy hands, softly caressing the loneliness and chill of the night.
It illuminated the shattered face of the warrior,
rendering it bright and clear.
Servia voiced several cultivation challenges, and Xu Xi patiently responded, sketching diagrams with his fingers while supplementing with verbal explanations to guide her.
The night was long.
But with Xu Xi’s voice accompanying her,
the warrior did not feel alone.
"Servia, do you understand now?" Xu Xi asked after his explanation, still somewhat concerned.
"Mhm, I think I do," the warrior blinked.
"..."
Everything around them seemed to freeze, leaving only the echo of Servia’s confident voice.
Xu Xi looked up at the sky.
After three seconds of silence,
he turned back to the warrior and repeated his explanation, this time with even greater patience and gentleness, simplifying it further to ensure comprehension.
This time,
the warrior truly remembered.
Before Xu Xi, she unleashed a more powerful soul sigil.
Gripping her sword hilt, a stream of light flickered, painting a streak of dazzling brilliance across the dark night—a radiance of the utmost intensity.
It was worth noting that
after years as a wizard, Servia’s mastery of sigils was no longer limited to death, soul, and general wizardry. She had begun dabbling in other domains.
Her growth and progress were unmistakable.
"Great Wizard, thank you for your guidance."
The undead warrior bowed deeply, performing a formal knight’s salute as she expressed her gratitude for Xu Xi’s patient teachings.
"No need for such formality, Servia."
"Your strength comes from yourself. I merely serve as a guide."
The night wind grew fiercer.
Xu Xi raised his hand.
Several spells were cast, calming the disturbances caused by Servia and cleansing the remnants of their evening meal.
Glancing toward the construction site of the wizard tower and confirming the puppets were operating smoothly, he sat back down, gazing at the world by the campfire’s glow.
For a long time to come,
Xu Xi would remain in the canyon.
Only once the wizard tower was complete could he truly begin his plans—harvesting the soul flames of the undead to accumulate the ultimate strike.
"This world is dying..."
Thick clouds drifted in from the distance, obscuring the eerie crimson moon.
Above the canyon,
sinister howls echoed.
The tremors of undead mingled with the roars of magical beasts.
Twisted, withered trees took root in the damp cliffs, sprouting grotesque leaves veined with crimson, swaying in the wind like a dense blood mist.
"Great Wizard."
A voice came from beside him.
Servia took a seat next to Xu Xi, her heavy armor clanking against the ground.
The silence of the night made the sound all the more pronounced.
The undead warrior from a thousand years ago posed a question:
"When people die, they become undead or reincarnate."
"But when a world dies..."
"Great Wizard, what happens to our world after it perishes?"
Her eyelashes trembled faintly. The moisture glistening over her deep green eyes, once brightened by the campfire, now seemed dim.
The naive warrior
had once dreamed of saving this world.
Yet now, she understood the crushing weight of such a task.
It was heavier than the honor of the Clawphire Family—
heavier by countless measures.
A salvation beyond mortal imagination.
No single person, nor even two, could alter its fate.
Xu Xi answered, "The death of a world... perhaps means absolute nothingness."
The thoughts of the living,
the history of civilizations,
together forged the brilliance of the world itself.
Yet tragically, the death of the wizard world was all-encompassing—not only would the world itself be devoured by the Netherrealm, but its inhabitants would also be eroded, losing everything they once were.
"Great Wizard, if only I were a true warrior..."
Servia lowered her head,
her voice desolate, fingers interlaced.
The burning desire to save the world clashed with her own powerlessness, tormenting her heart relentlessly.
"That isn’t your fault, Servia."
"A true warrior is not measured by strength alone. Your character is exceptional, and you’ve worked tirelessly."
"To me, that makes you the finest warrior."
Xu Xi affirmed the girl’s efforts.
Indeed, the warriors of legend often possessed extraordinary traits.
With handsome looks, a unique aura, formidable power, and heaven-defying luck—such were the traits of the heroes in tales.
In contrast, the undead Servia was lacking in every aspect, save for her unyielding courage and sense of justice, which alone could make one's eyes brighten.
But that was enough.
A heart brimming with courage makes one their own hero.
"Have faith in yourself, Servia," Xu Xi encouraged gently.
He gave her shoulder a light pat before rising and heading toward the construction site of the wizard tower.
He needed to replace the energy source of the earthwork puppets to prevent a shutdown due to exhaustion.
Night deepened.
Xu Xi's retreating figure gradually dissolved into the darkness.
After he left, Servia remained crouched in a daze for a long time, staring motionlessly at the ring on her left hand.
"Lord Wizard..."
"I'm not... as good as you say..."
A whisper only she could hear,
faintly dissolving into the air.
Her tone, flat yet laced with self-disappointment.
A hero? Justice?
Ever since her undead transformation, Servia had felt unworthy of such radiant words.
Afraid of loneliness, she clung to the only hand extended to her, following Xu Xi away from the Clawphire territory.
Such behavior felt hypocritical to her.
Upholding justice, saving the world, vanquishing evil—
during her travels with Xu Xi, she had indeed harbored such thoughts and even acted upon them sincerely.
Yet.
Unlike the heroes in stories who selflessly devoted themselves to the world, casting aside all weakness,
Servia believed she was merely using these ideals as excuses to stay by Xu Xi's side.
To remain close to the only person who, even after witnessing her ugliest truths, still treated her with kindness.
To shamelessly draw nearer.
To bask in the warmth of care she had not known for a thousand years, sheltered in this haven.
Such a self—wasn’t just her body, but even her soul, wretched...
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
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.”
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?"
