first player

Chapter 1669 Final Chapter: Crossing the Shore [13]: "Don't try to stop his ideals."

The "prophet's" eyes gleamed with the blue of time. He lowered his stance and uttered incomprehensible words:
"Because of ten thousand points..."

"Well!"

Another claw mark tore through the wings, and Lü Shu groaned as blood splattered everywhere. These wings were not only his strength, but also his divinity and life. Each tear felt like a piece of his soul being brutally ripped away.

Her green eyes contracted in excruciating pain, but her gaze remained fixed intently on what lay ahead—

"If you want to be a pawn in the dream world, then be one! If you want to be a supporter of the seventh seat, then be one!!!" Lu Shu roared.

"Don't even think about stopping his dream!!!"

"Shh!"

With a heavy swing, the sickle fell!

It was as if the air had frozen for a moment, and the sky and earth briefly turned into black and white.

The crazed vampires, the roaring bone dragons, the fanatical believers, the fallen maids... all were transformed into still statues.

Then, time began to flow again.

When people realized what had happened, some of the conscious individuals experienced a brief mental blank.

—The sky was "cut open".

Like a thick oil painting, it was brutally plowed through from the center by an invisible scraper. The path left by the scythe turned into a deathly gray-white.

The golden giant eye in the sky flowed golden liquid along the path of the gray-white cracks, as if shedding tears.

Lu Shu raised his knife, and a clear gap was plowed out in front of him.

—All life that stood in His way vanished.

"clang--!"

Lu Shu swayed for a moment, bracing himself against the sickle, his weakness surging like a tide.

...At that moment, the "Holy Son" opened his eyes.

"clang--!"

Aland's dagger struck Lu Shu's black scythe. Through the gaps in the layers of wings, Aland's gaze suddenly met that of the awakened Su Ming'an. In that instant, surprise flashed across Aland's face, followed by a wild, excited expression, overflowing with extreme joy.

"You're awake...you're awake!" Aland laughed loudly, "My 10,000-point player...!"

Su Ming'an had no idea what this person was so excited about, as if he were immersed in a frenzied state of mind. Through the fluttering black wings and the soft gaps, he said softly, "You seem so unfamiliar to me, Ailand."

In his memory, Aland was a gentleman, kind and gentle, but at this moment, his eyes were filled with joy and fervor. Was it because he had recalled some memories from the cosmic cycle? That was why he was so fervent towards Su Ming'an.

Su Ming'an's gaze pierced through the blood-stained gaps in the wings, meeting Lu Shu's eyes, which were like the Styx River.

Lu Shu didn't say anything, but his eyes seemed to speak volumes.

—Leave it to me.

Su Ming'an closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the holy sword.

--it is good.

He needed to make the holy sword recognize its master, otherwise the entanglement would be meaningless.

The relentless onslaught continued, like an isolated island besieged by a swarm of sharks. Lu Shu once again wielded his scythe. He wasn't actually skilled with this weapon; he was more adept with the black blade. However, at this moment, only the divine artifact could unleash its full power.

"Shh!"

The sword blade struck His wings.

"Well!"

The spear pierced His shoulder.

"Rip—!"

The jet-black feathers were torn apart and flew haphazardly in the air, splattering blood everywhere.

Beneath the wings lay the sleeping Su Ming'an. The golden light of the holy sword flowed over him, casting a warm glow on his pale face, making him seem like he belonged to a completely different world from the madness outside.

"Get out of here!!!"

Lu Shu suddenly swept his sword, cleaving several mutated priests who rushed forward in half at the waist. The battle seemed endless. More "believers" filled the gaps. They pressed forward expressionlessly, tearing at the protective black wings.

"Shh! Shh! Shh!"

One by one, the jet-black feathers were plucked, torn off, and pulverized. The tough wing membranes were ripped open with crisscrossing wounds, revealing dark golden bones and blood. Countless tiny infant hands even tried to burrow into the wounds, tearing deeper into the flesh.

The white-haired youth maneuvered nimbly on the small "isolated island," his black scythe swirling into a destructive storm, intercepting attacks coming from all directions.

The pain intensified, the bleeding increased, and a sense of weakness seemed to engulf him.

His breathing became heavy, and his movements inevitably began to stagnate.

--Then,
"They're here! Get them, sir!!!"

"Quick, help Brother Tree—!!"

"We're awake! We're awake!"

— Cheers erupted from the audience.

Leading the group was Anjima Hanko, who had broken free from the control of her eyes. She held a white pearl high in her hand, and white light spread outwards in circles.

Ordinary people can hardly resist the control of the eyes. Only healers, mages, and summoners with high mental strength like Anjima Hanko can withstand it. Anjima Hanko acted decisively, first awakening the healer players, assembling the "healer army," and charging towards the stage.

Despite being a priest's spell, its holy attribute resulted in a level of damage far exceeding that of a normal spell. A group of priests "charged" in, wielding their priest's staffs like greatswords to hack and slash.

"Drink!" The girl holding the pink heart-shaped priest's staff swung it forcefully, sending several mutated orcs flying with golden light.

"Hey!" A red-haired mature woman wielded a priest's staff adorned with white lace like a large sword, slashing fiercely at the enemy's head!

There was also a middle-aged man wearing a puffy skirt, chanting the slogan of magical girl transformation, and throwing purification spells at the enemy.

"I don't care what god or demon you are, none of you are as powerful as me!" the players shouted.

"Here comes the master!"

"I'm going!"

"Grandpa's going to make a mouse! Mommy! Mommy, give me a little milk!"

"I give up! You're the one who's the milk!"

"Boom—Boom—Boom—!"

The sky was a clash between two resurrected gods and two abyss lords. The exploding energy was like a giant oil painting splashed across the canvas, with lightning and thunder, and spatial rifts like the torn darkness.

On the ground, powerful warriors of various races, church knights, and players are locked in a chaotic battle, all corrupted by the war.

Everywhere was splattered blood, severed limbs, and shattered energy crystals. The pale infant's severed hand continued to convulse on the ground, its eyeballs shooting out like golden berries, bones and internal organs scattered everywhere…

……

Inside the holy sword, Su Ming'an opened his eyes.

A transparent soul stood in the void of golden space, waiting for him.

Her long, white hair cascaded down like a waterfall, with neat, straight bangs framing her forehead and sideburns reaching her chin—a classic princess-cut hairstyle. The girl wore a simple white chiffon dress. Most striking was her expression, which conveyed a profound, deep-seated weariness.

“…Lun Xue.” Su Ming’an hadn’t expected to see her here. She had disappeared before, but the team hadn’t reported her death. How could she be here?

She noticed Su Ming'an's gaze, and her eyes slowly turned towards him, revealing only the weariness of dealing with work.

"Hmm, it seems you are the wielder of the Holy Sword."

"Lun Xue?" Su Ming'an called out.

"Who? I don't know them." She yawned.

"Aren't you Lun Xue?"

"I am a sword spirit," she denied.

"The smell of this class is the same everywhere, aren't you?" Su Ming'an asked doubtfully.

“No,” the Blade Spirit said. “A player sneaked up to me and touched me secretly, and I remembered what she looked like. Now I’m using her appearance to appear before you… Alright. Now I will tell you the truth about the gods of Rovasa.”

"Wait a minute." Su Ming'an raised his hand. "I'm in a hurry to get out. We'll talk later."

"Heh... Time here is almost frozen. But the chance to have the Holy Sword recognize its master and learn the truth is almost a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Are you sure you want to give it up?" the sword spirit said.

"Go ahead," Su Ming'an immediately changed his attitude, lowering his hands.

"Hmph..." The sword spirit yawned listlessly. She paced around Su Ming'an, turning half a circle after another. Just as Su Ming'an was getting a little anxious, she uttered something utterly shocking:
"Almost all second-level and third-level gods were created by first-level gods themselves."

Su Ming'an's pupils constricted, as if he had heard an impossible truth.

"Where did you know that?"

"I found it in Hui Chi's diary. This guy knows so much, I even suspect he has some kind of ambiguous relationship with Klitschko... Oh, could it be an old flame?" The sword spirit rolled its eyes and guessed.

"How did you, a sword spirit, leave the Holy Sword?" Su Ming'an asked.

“You have to allow a working person to go out and slack off, right?” The sword spirit rested his hands behind his head. “Who says sword spirits have to be trapped inside a sword? Don’t think you can ask me all sorts of questions just because I’m easygoing. This sword was forged from a lot of malice. I was supposed to be a very fierce sword spirit—thank goodness for that little girl named Lun Xue. If she hadn’t met me, I wouldn’t have grown up looking like her. Sigh… I’m too soft-hearted. All I want to do right now is take a nap…”

Su Ming'an immediately said, "Tell me the truth."

The sword spirit pursed its lips, sighed, and said wearily, "In short... originally, Rovasa was not one of the twenty-seven gods, but only three true deities: Krysten, the Radiant Mother Goddess; Augustine, the Chaos Goddess; and Isabelle, the Demon Mother Goddess. However, to enhance the epic feel of the story, they created twenty 'false gods'."

"False God..." Su Ming'an said.

The sword spirit chuckled softly, a hint of sadness tinged with it for some reason. She whispered the truth about Rovasa in Su Ming'an's ear—

……

The temple, the backyard.

"Da da da……"

The camera swayed against her chest; the girl's red hair was tied in a ponytail, her leather vest swayed, and her dark brown boots moved with light steps. She evaded the guards and knights, moving through the palace as if it were empty, swiftly passing through corridors, gardens, artificial hills, and pavilions…

Finally, she arrived at a heavily guarded building and slipped into the depths of the palace.

"Finally slipped in... Hui Chi's room..." She breathed a sigh of relief and walked forward in the shadows of the room, a smell of old paper, ink, and herbs wafting towards her.

—As a photographer, Zhao Yuan did not rush to the battlefield like other top players. Instead, she chose to do what she did best: infiltrate the enemy camp and find Hui Chi's room.

The girl's bright eyes scanned the room, an endless array of books filling the view, like a cave submerged in books. Beneath the dome, massive floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stretched from the ground to the skylight, forming swaying little mountains. There were heavy leather books, delicate papyrus, smooth perfect bindings... making one feel as if they had stepped into a book paradise.