How to Choose Games I Want Them All

Li Volcano, Jade Spirit Pavilion.

According to past regulations, the creation of secret realms or illusionary realms was indeed meant to be an independent task.

However, most people usually turned a blind eye, and minor details in the setup often received assistance from others.

This time, Yang Zhengxin was serious about enforcing the rules, and since the regulations were clear, the other elders couldn’t argue.

Outside the Jade Spirit Pavilion, Yang Zhengxin and Li Jiujian worked together to set up a formation, confining Lu Ze inside for a closed-door creation session.

Lu Ze sat in the courtyard, eyes closed as he pondered his options.

When it came to war,

the first thing that came to his mind was the Battlefield series.

The large-scale battlefield setting wasn’t just fun to play—it also ensured players died at an incredibly high rate, making it the perfect choice.

But considering the spatial limitations, he quickly dismissed the idea.

Other options, like Call of Duty, were also swiftly abandoned.

At his current limit, he could only craft an illusionary space spanning about five hundred meters in radius.

In the context of an immortal battlefield, such a small area wouldn’t even be enough to fill the gaps between teeth.

"That old bastard’s idea is downright dirty," Lu Ze muttered to himself.

The spatial constraints were a massive hurdle for this theme.

Moreover, he couldn’t employ the same spatial layering technique he’d used in Demon Sect Escape.

Demon Sect Escape had a highly structured spatial design, where once a player moved past a section, it would never be revisited, allowing for overwriting.

But this stacking method wasn’t universally applicable to all games.

"Maybe I should just make them a computer?" Lu Ze joked sarcastically.

If he placed a giant computer inside the illusionary realm, the spatial limit would shrink to the size of the screen.

Then, even fifty meters would be more than enough.

Of course, he was only teasing himself.

Would these ancient cultivators even know how to use a mouse and keyboard?

Even if they did,

what kind of immersion could a computer game offer?

These people were used to illusionary realms—essentially born into VR gaming!

After feasting on the refined delicacy of VR, how could they stomach the coarse fare of computer games?

Unless this particular dish could only be enjoyed on a computer…

"Wait!"

Lu Ze’s eyes suddenly lit up.

He had just remembered—

there was one type of game where the computer was undeniably the optimal platform.

……

……

Thunder God Peak, Council Hall.

The elders sat solemnly in their seats, expressions grave.

"My knowledge of illusionary realms is limited, but I recall that young man Lu Ze managed to create an infinite world feel within a confined space for Demon Sect Escape, didn’t he?"

Lin Qingxuan of Danxin Peak spoke hopefully.

"Couldn’t the same method solve the spatial issue this time?"

After Lin Qingxuan finished, Zhao Wendao and Nangong Yuan exchanged glances before shaking their heads in unison.

"Impossible."

"The number of overlapping spaces within a single illusionary realm is limited."

"Demon Sect Escape was a linear progression—once a section was passed, its contents could be cleared and rebuilt anew, repeating the cycle."

"It was a clever trick, but one only suited for Demon Sect Escape..."

After Nangong Yuan’s explanation, Lin Qingxuan nodded thoughtfully, realizing just how difficult this challenge was for Lu Ze.

The thought of losing made everyone’s hearts ache.

The martial exchange between disciples wasn’t just about pride.

According to past unofficial agreements, the five major sects allocated newly discovered low-tier secret realms based on their rankings in the exchange.

If the Lingxiao Sect came in last, it wouldn’t be too bad—they’d just receive slightly fewer resources than the top sect.

But if the illusionary realm they submitted was deemed too crude and unqualified, their allocation weight for low-tier secret realms would drop to zero!

This rule hadn’t existed before.

It was established after an incident during a martial exchange hosted by the Qingshan Sect.

Back then, a sect had tried to elevate one of their disciples by having him craft a secret realm, but the result was so poorly made that the other sects unanimously protested, leading to the new regulation.

Though low-tier secret realms weren’t particularly rich in resources,

losing four whole years of training opportunities for their disciples would undeniably deal a heavy blow to the sect.

"We can’t just sit around waiting for disaster!"

Zhao Wendao gritted his teeth and quickly assigned tasks to the elders.

"Elder Nangong, starting today, you must work day and night to craft a [War] illusionary realm—finish it within ten days!"

"Pah! How could I possibly work that fast—"

"Figure it out yourself! Elder Lin, brew life-saving elixirs—something that can keep a man alive even after taking one of my divine lightning strikes!"

"What’s the meaning of this—"

"Just do it! Elder Liu, you—"

"..."

After Zhao Wendao’s rapid-fire instructions,

"Great Elder, what’s the purpose of all this?"

Nangong Yuan had been given the most complicated tasks—not just crafting an illusionary realm, but also defensive artifacts.

Zhao Wendao’s gaze turned sharp.

"We’re breaking him out."

……

……

Li Volcano.

Jade Spirit Pavilion.

Inside Lu Ze’s illusionary space, the framework was beginning to take shape.

Before him floated a massive rectangular screen displaying a vast expanse of plains and mountain ranges.

At the center of the screen were several small figures dressed in varying attire.

On either side of the screen hovered multiple command symbols—

[Move], [Attack], [Patrol], [Stop]...

"Just as I thought," Lu Ze murmured, satisfied as he watched the figures move according to the commands.

To portray a grand battlefield within an extremely confined space,

the solution was to shrink the battlefield infinitely.

Lu Ze had immediately thought of a unique game genre—

RTS (Real-Time Strategy) games.

Even in VR, players would adopt a god’s-eye view for planning and maneuvering,

no different from playing on a computer.

This way, even if he transplanted a computer-like interface into the illusionary realm, the cultivators would adapt quickly.

After all, assessing battlefield conditions from a macro perspective was already second nature to them.

Not only did this perfectly fit the [War] theme, but it also solved the spatial constraints.

Among the RTS games that had once taken the world by storm, three stood out:

StarCraft, Warcraft, and Red Alert.

In terms of competitive depth, StarCraft was in a league of its own, unmatched by any other.

Warcraft had leveraged its map editor to achieve unparalleled versatility, even giving birth to two massive subgenres—MOBA and auto-battlers.

As for Red Alert, while it couldn’t quite compare to the other two in terms of legacy, it excelled in simplicity and sheer fun.

Most importantly, of the three, Red Alert best embodied the grandeur of war.

Players turtling up before unleashing massive armies—the spectacle was nothing short of breathtaking...

With these three options before him,

Lu Ze quickly made his decision—

Take them all.

Merge their strengths and stitch them together seamlessly.

No—in this world, he was the original creator!

Of course, he couldn’t copy the games outright. He needed to reskin the units and structures.

The main base would become sect headquarters, shops would turn into treasure pavilions, barracks into training halls...

The diverse array of military units was replaced by cultivators of various paths and spirit beasts...

...

Soon, Lu Ze settled on a name for the new game:

Immortal Realm Domination.