TBR CH207

The gloomy, rainy weather blurred the distinction between day and night.

As if driven by some unseen force, even wanderers who usually lingered outside felt an urge to return home.

One by one, windows lit up, people shook off the dust of their journeys, and enjoyed warmth and comfort in the brightly lit interiors.

In the city night, traffic lights glowed on their own, streetlights gazed at their long shadows, quietly illuminating a block. Even when their surroundings were empty, they continued to perform their duties.

Thunder and lightning tore across the distant sky.

Otherwise, how could such a long, dark gash appear in the sky?

Roland took a step forward, into the rain. His boots stepped on the accumulated water on the ground, subtly splashing a little.

The rain beat down on him without restraint, quickly drenching his shoulders and soaking the black tips of his hair, but he paid no mind. He simply raised his eyes, gazing at the bottomless rift, feeling as if destruction, like raindrops, was pouring down upon this world from the rift.

This was a force on the same dimension as the Way of Heaven.

Humanity’s task was to desperately stall for time.

Roland looked up at the sky. The dark rain clouds blocked the stars and moon, their pure brilliance hidden. He walked in the rain, and with himself as the center, the patterns of the magic circle on the ground lit up one after another, following the splashes of water from his long boots. Slowly at first, then spreading with lightning speed, silver emblems suddenly emerged across half the city’s ground, like dormant behemoths, slowly flickering with an undeniable power when viewed from above.

The system had half-destroyed the passage between the two worlds when a light suddenly fell into the pitch-black rift. With an undeniably powerful force, it forcibly pulled the separated passages back, gradually trying to fill the chasm.

It peered in astonishment at the world beneath it, the massive silver magic circle like an eye.

The power of this magic circle could even cause it some interference.

And at its center stood a human.

As if a bottle behind the clouds had been overturned, the rain poured down with even greater intensity, like tiny white pebbles hitting Roland. A violent thunderclap suddenly echoed across the horizon.

…He was discovered.

The human slightly curved his lips, his smile gentle and subtle.

At this moment, he had, as expected, arrived at the city square. The security guard’s room at the entrance glowed with a light. On a perpetually rainy night, the guard was also drowsy, never imagining that someone would visit the deserted square in the middle of the night, treading on silver splashes of water.

The moment Roland stood still in the center of the square, his toes pointed at the ground. This was the center of the entire magic circle.

Then, a pure, bright, and resolute power spread, like silver ripples, surging like a tide, eventually enveloping the entire city square, and even the whole of Lincheng. Even areas where the patterns hadn’t been drawn were subtly filled with bright starlight.

Roland extended his hand, and the faintly hidden power of the stars responded to him from beyond the clouds.

But he soon heard a cold mechanical voice booming in his ear:

“I can erase you once for my purpose, and I can erase you a second time.”

“Who knows,” Roland lowered his eyelids, his amber eyes plated with a silvery glow, “Am I not standing here perfectly well?”

“…It wasn’t Hilda who conspired with the Way of Heaven, but you?”

“I imagine you truly wouldn’t remember a dead man.”

The Archmage acknowledged his words. The broken Essence of the Moon on the ground had never so intensely called upon the light behind the clouds. This power vibrated from his feet, scorching all the way to his heart. His entire body of flesh and blood resonated with the magic circle. He subtly touched his chest, smiling: “Thanks to this, so far, it’s been quite smooth.”

The system looked down from the highest firmament.

It feared the world’s consciousness, but after a few exchanges, it keenly realized that the Black Book was not with the human.

This was the most crucial moment. Whether fleeing or making a final struggle, the world’s consciousness had made a fatal mistake: it dared to try and stop it with a mere human, with these already weakened powers—

The rain had unknowingly turned as black as ink.

The rain poured down, violently striking the magic circle beneath Roland’s feet. The silver light dimmed amidst the intertwining black water, beginning to flicker weakly like fireflies. Roland had to force himself to bear immense pressure just to vaguely catch a glimpse of starlight and moonlight in the tightly covered sky above. But they immediately vanished.

The magic circle on the ground seemed to have run its course.

Under the system’s fierce counterattack, the starlight in the Archmage’s hand also dimmed inch by inch. Losing its source of power, the shimmering silver powder turned into ashes beneath his feet, and most of the magic circle’s patterns intermittently extinguished.

The system completed these strikes with lightning speed.

The light covering the rift in the firmament helplessly faded away. The sky was completely obscured by thick clouds. The Archmage, who relied on light for power, would eventually be helpless. It finally looked down with disdain, wanting to see the expression of despair on the human’s face.

Was it mistaken?

The human was actually still smiling. His face was pale, but his amber eyes glowed even brighter.

“I don’t like this weather,” Roland said unhurriedly, even though his feet were already standing on extinguished embers, “In Mirar Continent, people wouldn’t go out in such weather because it’s too dark. But here, it’s different…”

At that instant, the system finally noticed something odd. What was the reflection in his pupils? On such a dark night, with no stars and no moon, what illuminated his eyes?

The answer was actually very simple.

It was light.

Even in the rain, the streetlights in the city square still emitted several dazzling white beams of light. These lights flickered at this moment, like precarious sparks, falling onto the center of the silver array.

“You’re not thinking of—”

Before the system finished speaking, the entire city it overlooked, and all the lights on the ground, emitted an even more intense glow at that instant. Whether it was the faint light from the security booth, the lights behind the curtains of thousands of homes, or the perpetually lit advertising signs at the top of Lincheng’s landmark buildings, all were enveloped within the range of the magic circle at that moment.

And even further away. Certainly no further than Earth to the Moon.

The light and electricity of the real world, the miracles of technology and energy.

What if magic was added to it?

The Archmage borrowed a wisp of light from all these bright sources. Lights gathered like fireflies.

His hand was steady. The magic circle powered by light beneath his feet shifted from dim to bright, once again rotating ceaselessly.

Countless pure ribbons of light intertwined, flowing into a dazzling river, continuously surging to his feet, and then flowing from his fingertips, hidden beneath his sleeves, towards the sky.

“Do you know?” the Archmage said, as if chatting, “The Essence of the Moon can only borrow supernatural power, but the people here have personally landed on the moon.”

These artificial lights, carrying warmth and joyful heat, surged upwards, instantly illuminating the gloomy rainy night almost like daylight. The light poured into the abyss of the firmament; the first few wisps were useless, but soon, like a prairie fire, they lit up the rift, irresistibly melting and reforging the originally fractured passage into an indestructible form.

No mage had ever been so particular about science.

But the system was clearly not keen on appreciating the Archmage’s great achievements.

Behind the rift in the firmament, a pair of eyes seemed to gaze at Roland with hatred and malice.

Unlike the disdain from before, this time even the system understood that it had to deal properly with the human’s interference. The counterattack was no longer light; it had to be with full force.

Its only solace was that, driven by an ominous premonition, it had long ago left its core on the other side of the “Abyss Continent” game. At this time, “Abyss” was undergoing server maintenance before a version update. Except for the initial port remaining with the Son of Destiny, all other login paths had been cut off.

This meant that any harm inflicted on it would merely be superficial.

In the pitch-black night, in places invisible to people, two forces violently collided.

The shockwave generated when light and darkness collided forced Roland back a step. He once again clutched the chain on his chest, his other hand almost unable to hold his staff. He swallowed the metallic taste of blood rising in his throat, knowing he had to persevere.

The security guard, still on duty, groggily opened his eyes.

The rustling of rain only accentuated the bright lights overhead. Outside, lightning seemed to flash, tearing across half the sky, and the dreadful roar of the wind brushed low past his window.

But—

He unconsciously thought: as long as he stayed in this corner of light, there was nothing to worry about.

“Host, Host,” the familiar mechanical voice suddenly sounded in his ear, the electronically synthesized voice also seemingly tinged with urgency, “An emergency has occurred. World merging is being hindered by the world’s consciousness. I need the host to cooperate immediately.”

Bai Shi was currently staring blankly at the darkened screen in front of him.

In the last hour before the version update, “Abyss Continent” had already shut down its servers, but he couldn’t possibly fall asleep in this situation, so he simply sat idly, watching his face reflected on the screen. He was about to bid farewell to this unattractive face.

“You mean the world’s consciousness?” Bai Shi mumbled. He clearly didn’t want to hear bad news at this time. “How could you be so careless as to be discovered by it? Didn’t you say that getting rid of that crazy woman who was cooperating with it would be enough? It’s come to this, and there’s still trouble…”

“If it succeeds, the consequences will be unimaginable,” the system said quickly and coldly. “Now is not the time for nonsense. Is the host willing to give up an opportunity so close at hand? Look out the window. The power of the Way of Heaven should not be underestimated, but as long as world merging succeeds, even it will be helpless. Please, Host, start the computer immediately. I will grant you the sole login access to ‘Abyss.’ As long as the connection is successful, I can mobilize the core and exert more powerful force.”

The threat was immediate and effective.

Bai Shi immediately shut his mouth obediently. He glanced around. The dorm room was quiet, his roommates sound asleep in their beds.

Outside the window, through the dark rain, fierce lightning indeed flashed across the distant sky.

How sharp were the two opposing forces! Just by looking, Bai Shi felt his bones ache a little. The increasingly large, tearing black abyss seemed capable of destroying this world and bringing down immense disaster—no, he certainly didn’t believe the system he was helping would bring such tragic consequences.

He shook his head, then plopped back into his seat and turned on the desk lamp.

However, as he waited for his laptop to reboot, bathed in the warm light of the desk lamp, Bai Shi inexplicably thought of the system’s repeated warnings to him.

“During world merging, I need to destroy the passage between Mirar Continent and this world. Therefore, all player connections to the game must be cut off to prevent interference, and that includes you. It’s time to briefly say goodbye to your followers.”

The screen lit up, interrupting Bai Shi’s thoughts.

Strangely, both the desk lamp and the computer’s light were a little dazzling at first. Bai Shi adjusted his headphones and heard a hissing noise again. He sighed in frustration, moved the mouse to the game icon, and then suddenly hesitated:

“Didn’t you say absolutely not to log into the game…”

“That was under normal circumstances,” the system corrected. “Host, the situation is very urgent now. There’s no time to explain slowly to you. Just listen to me, as we agreed before.”

It had indeed always said that.

Bai Shi’s doubt lasted only an instant. The system truly explained nothing to him, simply telling him what to do. This was the other party’s usual style.

Therefore, the gloomy youth finally looked at the computer screen and double-clicked the icon where he had placed his future life.

The blood-red full moon loading icon popped up.

One second, two seconds…

As the words “Connection Successful” appeared in Bai Shi’s sight, he suddenly heard a sharp alarm sound in his ear. The exact same mechanical voice roared out at several times the decibels:

“Host, what are you doing! Didn’t I tell you absolutely not to rebuild the connection?”

Bai Shi was startled by the thunderous voice.

He subconsciously yanked his hands away from the keyboard, but when he reacted, he felt a surge of indignation. He was following the system’s instructions, so why was it suddenly as if he had made a huge mistake? He clutched his chest, his heart pounding faster and faster, and said indignantly:

“What do you want from me? You were the one who told me to log into the game!”

“Me?” The system sounded incredibly incredulous. “Just a second ago, I received the data here and rushed over.”

While it was fully focused on dealing with that damned human and his endless power of light, the rift it had supposedly destroyed actually began to heal orderly again. This precisely catered to the human’s desires and forced it to retreat repeatedly, immediately sending a wisp of data to demand an explanation.

“Then what was talking to me just now?” Bai Shi questioned.

The system was almost choked with rage. It felt utterly screwed over by the human in front of it. Not only was the torn rift becoming increasingly difficult to control, but it had also exposed its core, which controlled the game’s mechanics. Now, if any power were to seize and attack it—it had just thought so with trepidation, and the next second it was viciously attacked by a force.

Bai Shi’s ears were filled with crackling static.

The youth also began to panic. He looked around but saw nothing.

He tried to close the window open on his screen, but “Abyss” wouldn’t close after it started running. A huge rift suddenly appeared on the screen in front of him, just like the one in the sky. The chasm was deeply embedded in his computer.

“You said…” The system’s voice was intermittent, the current almost short-circuiting. “Just now… what was talking… was me… idiot… that was… disguised as me… how on earth…”

The system’s voice trembled and disappeared.

The voice he heard was fake? Bai Shi’s brain raced, piecing together this conclusion. His fingertips were cold, trembling as he tried to take off the Bluetooth headphones. But the moment his fingertips touched the headphones, he got an even worse idea.

Bai Shi lunged to the screen and clicked on the Bluetooth interface.

…Since when?

He felt as if a basin of cold water had been poured over his head.

In the Bluetooth settings interface, the device currently connected to the computer’s audio had been renamed “BlackBook.” In the place where the miniature cartoon icon of the Bluetooth headphones should have been, a pitch-black book had appeared like a ghost.

“Actually, I really don’t think this voice sounds very good.”

The system’s mechanical voice, no, the entity disguised as the system said so, almost as if it was gloating after getting a bargain. —And the real system, no matter how much it was called, was completely unresponsive.

Bai Shi’s vision went black, and he almost fainted.

Roland was soaking wet from head to toe, every inch of him drenched by the rain.

His eyes were like amber washed clean. Light, brighter than the stars, lingered around him, finally laying out a ladder to the heavens beneath his feet.

The human didn’t hesitate for a second. In the pouring rain, he ascended this dazzling bolt of lightning.

…Presumably, the system had already discovered the surprise the world’s consciousness had given it.

The force that had just been clawing at the sky like sharp talons was now almost gone. Roland unconsciously tapped the ground with his staff, but the dead magical fluctuations in his hand told the Archmage that the staff that had accompanied him the longest was completely ruined in this battle. He stared at the shattered gem on “Nova,” finally not letting go of his grip on it.

His current situation wasn’t too good, but he had already gotten through the worst of it.

Roland endured the excruciating pain of feeling like his entire body was crushed, gritting his teeth and forcing the light beneath his feet to extend upwards like ripples, inch by inch. He forced himself to continuously ascend, getting closer and closer to that ominous and terrifyingly dark rift that looked as if it had been scorched.

It wasn’t over yet—the sky had been torn open, and it wouldn’t heal on its own.

The Archmage barely calculated his remaining strength. His ten fingers were all covered in sparkling silver powder, which was now crumbling into dust. Everything was still within his calculations, including the pain he suffered from the shockwave due to having no means of protecting himself. Perhaps a few bones were broken, but not enough to incapacitate him.

He walked solemnly and slowly, step by step, up the heaven-reaching staircase.

That was because it was the fastest speed he could currently manage.

Closer and closer. Roland’s eyes reflected strange colors, already able to feel the destructive, blade-like force at the edge of the rift. Even though the system had already fled, the rain showed no signs of lessening. The rain made his clothes heavy, dragging at his steps. The abyss was dark red, charcoal black, deep purple.

Suddenly, Roland stumbled.

He gasped, barely steadying himself, and forced a self-deprecating smile to his lips.

“Alright,” he murmured, “Just the last stretch of the road, just a little bit more.”

His black hair clung wetly to his neck, with a few bright strands mixed in that couldn’t be hidden. Roland could no longer pay attention to such details. He stood around the rift, vaguely drawing a symbol on his chest. The last bit of silver powder, mixed with blood, was ground into ash on his skin.

The light of this city and even this world had been borrowed by the Archmage.

To face the power that tore worlds apart, only such a miraculous magic could be used.

As all the magical power he could mobilize was continuously poured into the rift, the clouds above Roland’s head began to dissipate. The rift was filled with countless twinkling points of light, like falling stars. Roland knelt on the highest step, quietly watching everything unfold, feeling his eyelids too heavy to lift.

The steps beneath him vanished one by one.

Just as the step he was on began to fade, Roland, as expected, saw the purple-haired figure rushing into the square through the rain. The witch’s expression was undeniably excited. Hilda’s journey was hurried yet steady. She had followed the path the Archmage had arranged early on, completing the aftermath work along the way, and stepped onto the square with not a second to spare.

“Master,” Hilda said with a genuine smile, “We succeeded—”

Her gaze was suddenly replaced by horror.

Roland found it difficult to even move a finger at this point. His nails dug into his flesh. He raised his eyes and saw the sight that had so drastically changed the witch’s expression.

From the rift, which was about to be completely filled, several black forces suddenly spread out again. These forces surged, intending to cause a violent explosion, to drag him in and tear him to pieces.

At the same time, the system, now controlled by the Way of Heaven, suddenly spoke cruelly and coldly.

“No matter who is helping you,” it said, “they will die.”

This was pure revenge, with no other purpose.

The witch’s screams gradually faded away.

Roland leaned most of his body on his staff. The explosive aftermath, accompanied by a rumbling sound, rushed towards him, leaving a stark white trace in the center of his pupils. He assessed the situation, then self-deprecatingly felt as if he had returned to the day everything began, when a car rushed towards him—

What else could he do, now that “Nova”‘s power was exhausted?

He was unarmed.

The power left for the witch was only enough for her to protect herself. She quickly cast a spell, but it couldn’t be faster than the fragments that were about to engulf him. The Archmage extended his hand, as if to stubbornly resist the power trying to strangle him with only his fragile fingertips.

Accidents always happen; things don’t always go as planned.

Kriesmeier never allowed exceptions to exist. If only he never understood. Roland vaguely thought, and then felt his heart soften a little.

He…

He still had use for this life. He still wanted to see his beloved.

Just as this fragile and beautiful thought flashed through the human’s mind, the black fragments also splattered towards the human’s heart. The moment they pierced his chest, all the anticipated futures would vanish. Those dark golden eyes, the Demon King’s cold, rough long hair—across the abyss, Roland seemed to see Kriesmeier’s gaze.

The human used his last strength to extend his arm, shielding his chest.

Even if this action might mean his upper limbs were shattered into pieces, with no room for recovery.

Roland tasted the bitter flavor in his mouth.

He stubbornly refused to close his eyes.

And thus, he didn’t miss it—when the destructive explosion was about to obliterate his incredibly fragile body the next second, that is, the moment the feather on his chest burst into flames.

That feather, sharp as a knife.

There was no sharp pain of being pierced in his chest, replaced instead by a scorching heat. The heat continuously emanated from his chest. The black feather silently burned in a dark flame, the ghostly fire illuminating the human’s pale pupils.

The Demon King’s feather was a powerful magical material.

That time in the illusion, it was Kriesmeier’s feather that provided power to the staff.

Roland blinked blankly, watching the feather hanging on his chest burn like a true amulet. Its power was even stronger than the onslaught of explosive malevolence. The force most adept at destruction now hovered before him, shielding him from most of the attack.

The human trembled and reached out his hand, but the feather was too hot to grasp.

Soon, it turned into rustling ash and vanished.

His amber eyes, for the first time, showed a hint of uncalculated blankness. He leaned forward, most of his body tilting, wanting to grasp a bit of insignificant ash.

It was this movement that made him lose his balance.

Hilda felt her heart had never beaten faster in her life than in the past few short seconds.

From her teacher being in danger, to her teacher inexplicably resolving the danger again, and then at the very last moment, the witch’s heartstring fiercely plucked for an instant, watching Roland, like a kite with a broken string. The light beneath him dissipated, and he plunged straight down, swallowed by the rift in the very last second before it was sealed.

At this moment, Roland indeed had no strength left.

But the witch knew nothing of the Archmage’s condition.

She merely stared, wide-eyed, as everything happened, with no room to intervene. It wasn’t until the astonishment faded from her trembling fingertips that Hilda hesitantly murmured:

“No way, could Master really be so desperate that… he didn’t want to wait a single moment longer?”

Stars fell from the firmament.

Falling.

As if passing through a dark and long tunnel.

The first part of his body to regain sensation was his ears. Roland heard the wind. The wind rustled through things like leaves, whispering in his ear.

Then he smelled the pungent scent of broken grass and wood. He had fallen into a sleep that felt like freezing him whole. He couldn’t open his eyes for a while, but he must have been lying on a patch of grass.

The real world offered no scent, nor such tangible touch.

The human’s fingers weakly traced a few marks on the soil, then, as if thawed, finally managed to prop himself up. At the same time, long-lost aches and pains surged through all his joints. His eyelashes fluttered, and only when he sat upright did he slowly open his eyes.

The forest was silent, with only sunlight filtering through the dappled tree shadows onto his face.

The warm temperature gradually brought back his control over his body. He strained his fingers, touching something hard.

His staff. The gem on it was shattered.

The human stared blankly at “Nova.”

When he propped himself up with his hand, he subconsciously touched his chest. No, the feather had instantly burned to ash before him, and now not a trace remained. He had originally thought that if the Demon King didn’t recognize him, he could use it as a token—

What a pity.

His amber eyes lifted, made clear and translucent by the bright sunlight. His clothes were still damp from the rain, and he had rolled in some dirt, covered in injuries both minor and severe. He looked nothing like an ordinary traveler.

Presenting himself in such a state would surely frighten others, let alone meeting His Majesty the Demon King.

Roland slowly closed his eyes.

Where was he? When was this?

“Nova” had been destroyed. Would Kriesmeier still remember him as promised?

Roland wobbled, supporting himself to stand.

Several bones were probably broken. He didn’t know how far it was from the Demon King City. Regardless, Roland first forced himself to stand up and take a step. He staggered a few meters forward when he suddenly felt a burning pain surge from his wrist.

The events that had just transpired had already left him scarred. Now, suddenly feeling pain, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a post-traveling side effect.

This much pain wasn’t enough to make the Archmage blink.

But when he raised his wrist, he truly froze.

A crest had appeared on his wrist, its color drawn as if with gold dust, but its pattern was very complex.

…Roland felt as if he had seen it somewhere before.

Vibrant roses, lovebirds tearing at the roses, and lipstick marks imprinted on a skull. The slightly exaggerated pattern was primarily enthusiastic, as if afraid others wouldn’t see its owner as boundless and reckless.

The crest glowed brighter and brighter, branded onto Roland’s wrist, yet it resonated directly with his soul, and a force like a hurricane slowly gathered.

This was a teleportation contract.

Roland’s face grew paler and paler within the magic circle. He watched the hurricane slowly gather form, desperately trying to recall the shadow of this crest in his memory. He didn’t want to be kidnapped by someone he had once had a feud with, though talking about resistance in his current state was worthless.

The fierce wind howled in his ears, sharp and dangerous, enveloping him.

Just as his vision darkened—

The Archmage finally remembered when he had rashly signed this soul-selling agreement.

No way.

He thought.

This damned hurricane even carried rose petals and a sweet, sickly perfume. The human forcibly endured the discomfort of spatial displacement, which felt like his entire body’s bones were being reassembled, holding on until the very last second.

His face was deathly pale, and he swayed precariously in the magic circle, looking like he would faint any second.

The blurry vision in front of him finally resolved, revealing a magnificent, aesthetically indescribable palace.

Looking up from the palace, one could see the sky peculiar to the Abyss region, as if a palette of gloomy colors had been overturned, presenting various terrible hues of gray, withered, and bloody. Above the pungent scent of sulfur, floated the strong fragrance of perfume.

The human stood before the main gate of the palace, the teleportation array beneath his feet gradually fading.

He was alone beside himself, and in front of him was a swirling mass of colors pacing excitedly.

Roland blinked hard, and saw the blurred mass resolve into a beaming demon.

“Welcome, participant of the Demon King City Beauty Pageant.”

The other party was so enthusiastic that Roland almost felt he was hallucinating; he had never seen such a welcoming Abyss demon. No—the crucial point was that this bizarre competition was actually happening as scheduled—the demon stared intently at him, like a beast staring at a large piece of life-saving meat:

“Thank you for your support of our Lord’s cause. Just a moment, I’ll register your name. If all goes well, you’ll be able to enter the palace tonight!”

The human with amber eyes stared back, looking completely bewildered.

“Beauty pageant?”

“You filled out the registration form. Your name is…”

The demon pretended to flip through a roster, but his eyes didn’t seem to linger on it at all; rather, the roster seemed to only have its first page used. He said politely, “Black Cat 538647, that’s you, right?”

Roland paused, “Don’t you check the photos?”

The person sent by the teleportation array looked nothing like the cat on the registration form; he looked more like a human with a nose and eyes.

Only those amber pupils were their commonality.

However, the few low-ranking demons here were clearly wide-eyed, pretending not to see, acting as if everything was normal.

If there wasn’t someone who could be used to fulfill their quota, they would probably end up in the Lord’s stomach tonight. Before that, perhaps they’d end up in his bed, which was actually even more terrifying.

“Alright,” Roland slowly said, “Putting that aside. What does ‘able to enter the palace tonight’ mean? A beauty pageant should have a selection process first, and also, I heard that Demon King Kriesmeier… is quite picky.”

The human’s words were already very tactful.

In reality, his mind was mostly a chaotic mess, unable to think at all, and unable to figure out why this group of demons in front of him was looking at him with such a desperate gaze.

No, Roland’s mind was filled with chaotic thoughts. What kind of lifestyle did his Demon King Majesty have now? How did he become so indiscriminate?

He had only filled out a registration form. How could such a horrendous resume even pass the review?

“You have already overridden all objections and successfully been selected as the top candidate.” The other party said seriously.

Roland’s mind completely stopped working.

Archmage Roland Xavier, who had been deceased for over thirty years in Mirar Continent, his name growing more illustrious with time, but also gradually showing the marks of time, his astounding talent of yesteryear had been forgotten by many. He never imagined that after so many years, his next glorious title would be the first beauty chosen by the Demon King City.

The human with amber eyes slowly raised his eyelids, gazing at the distant shadow of the demon palace.

—This was quite normal.

The Abyss demon thought, next he should be scared into a faint.

Indeed, the human’s face grew even paler, looking as if just standing required all his strength. In the next second, Roland finally succumbed to the overwhelming exhaustion.

He stumbled, feeling oddly reassured gazing at where Kriesmeier was.

So he swayed and fell to the ground, finally, once again, overwhelmed, closing his eyes.