Years of relentless research.
Exhaustion.
Weariness.
Numbness.
Xu Xi worked ceaselessly, refining the transformation of the cross-dimensional wizard tower.
And now, the dawn of success had finally arrived.
Gazing at the nearly completed tower, Xu Xi was overwhelmed with emotion, feeling that all the sacrifices and efforts had at last borne fruit.
"It's almost done..."
"Just the final adjustments remain. Once the cross-dimensional spell links to the tower's reactor, the three-stage process—soulfire power generation, spatial rupture, and dimensional traversal—will be complete."
"For safety, a few trial runs are necessary."
"If nothing goes wrong, we can leave the Wizarding World within a year."
Time always slips away silently.
Passengers on a train need only sit quietly, and countless scenes flash past the windows.
Beautiful, ugly.
All blurred under time's relentless flow.
In just a fleeting moment, one might realize years have already passed.
Simulation Year 51. Xu Xi, age 68.
The blessing of supernatural power kept his body from aging.
A life rich with experiences preserved his spirit.
Yet everything he had witnessed in the Wizarding World—the people, the places—had etched themselves deeply into his mind.
Forming memories both unique and unforgettable.
"At least I got to see the world's end... Not a bad deal."
A bitter consolation.
Xu Xi raised his eyes to the sky.
The wizard tower's purification spell simulated a normal sky and sunlight, but his spiritual sight pierced through, revealing the Wizarding World in its true, ravaged state.
Gray mist swirling, a dark sun hanging high.
Wandering spirits, deathly silence.
The vast world had lost all color, leaving only pallor and crimson.
Xu Xi's thoughts wandered.
He wondered what the Wizarding World had looked like a thousand years ago, before the Netherworld descended.
From Servia's accounts,
he imagined a land of abundance and beauty.
A fantastical otherworld many dreamed of.
Ancient ruins, perilous monster-infested mountains, mighty and fearsome dragons, and countless human adventurers.
The sun in the sky shone equally upon all.
Piercing stained-glass windows.
Falling upon clear streams.
Bringing forth each new tomorrow.
"A shame I never truly saw such sights before the world withered into death."
"Only thanks to my simulator trait could I seize a sliver of hope in this dying world."
"Anyone else would have perished in the Undead Calamity long ago."
Mana surged as spells activated.
Xu Xi summoned water to wash his face.
The final adjustments to the tower were simple manual labor, left to the construction golems.
As for himself,
he planned to spend these last days slaying more undead, gathering as much soulfire as possible.
And perhaps, before crossing dimensions, breaking through to become a Fifth-Circle Wizard.
...
[The Wizarding World. The Tower of Salvation. Its inhabitants. Servia. And yourself.]
[You gaze at the sky, confronting the Black Sun and Blood Moon.]
[Countless thoughts flash through your mind.]
[You know the true end approaches.]
[Fifty years of simulated experience have left you richly rewarded.]
[You find solace in helping those you know reach safety before the simulation ends.]
[Yet at times,]
[in quiet moments,]
[you worry about the Hero's future.]
[With her nature, can Servia adapt to life in another world after the crossing?]
[After much deliberation, you let it go.]
[You lack confidence in escaping the gaze of the Immortals unscathed. Dwelling on the future is futile.]
...
[You cherish these final days.]
[Slaying undead day and night.]
[Meditating without pause.]
[Life and death, an endless cycle.]
[Witnessing the world's death, cutting down those who have died once, inspiration strikes you repeatedly.]
[When not fighting, you stand atop the Tower of Salvation, overlooking the desolate black earth—a wasteland forged from despair and blood.]
[Beyond that,]
[you watch Servia train.]
[Years of battle have brought her to the threshold of the Fourth-Circle. Proud, you patiently guide her through doubts.]
Raise the sword.
Grip tight.
Swing.
The knightly blade Xu Xi gifted her serves as Servia's staff.
Enhancement spells activate in unison, forging the Undead Sword Saint.
Her body—
speed, strength—rivals martial masters from the world of warriors.
Her blade's edge can sever souls.
"Servia, your progress is remarkable. It won't be long before you become a Fourth-Circle Wizard," Xu Xi praises warmly.
"Thank you for your guidance," Servia sheathes her sword, emerald eyes glinting in the sunlight.
Later,
Xu Xi casts flesh regeneration,
allowing the Hero to relax in living form after training.
Yet she remains as before—
clad in a white dress adorned with pale green,
staying close to Xu Xi.
Her platinum hair sways with each step, blending into the light, radiant and warm.
She sticks to him, nearly glued to his side.
"Is something wrong, Servia?" Xu Xi notices her distraction.
"I..."
The girl hesitates.
Finally voicing her unease.
"Wizard, I keep feeling you're in danger. So I... want to stay close to protect you."
"Danger?"
"Ah, I'm not certain..."
"Nothing will happen, Servia."
Xu Xi pauses, gently resting a hand on her head.
His calm voice carries reassurance: "I'm fine. The tower's barriers are active. There's no danger."
"Perhaps,"
"the thought of leaving this world unsettles you."
She blinks.
Puzzled, then thoughtful.
"Is... is that it?"
"Maybe you're right..."
Servia presses a fist to her chin, brows furrowed, accepting his words.
The Wizard is right.
Lately, she often wonders what awaits beyond this world, losing sleep over it.
Leaving means severing ties with the past.
The Clawphire Family's brightest emerald
struggles with guilt.
She feels she's abandoning her parents, abandoning everything of Clawphire.
"Servia, don't dwell on it." The warmth on her head soothes her.
"Leaving isn't abandonment. It's waiting for the next reunion."
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?"
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
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!
