TBR CH6

In the latter half of the night after the witch arrived in Lincheng, it began to rain in the real world.

The rain intensified. The night sky, which had been clear just moments ago, was suddenly filled with dark purple rain clouds. The rain continued for three full days with no sign of stopping.

The meteorological station reported that this “unpredicted rainfall” would continue for some time. Roland closed the weather forecast, gazing out at the dark sky. The moon and the trajectories of the stars were now completely invisible.

Fortunately, this level of rain wasn’t yet dangerous.

Under the neon lights, the bustling city night remained noisy.

It was because the ground was too bright, the Archmage thought, that people overlooked the inky black sky. The wind that carried the rain clouds felt as if it was blowing in from a gaping wound in the world, making the entire world creak and groan, overwhelmed by the strange rain.

He closed his eyes, re-examining all his plans and preparations from beginning to end. The Archmage stood at the entrance of the “Zero Distance” internet café, closing the “umbrella” that had accompanied him through the entire area in the rain. Gray rainwater rolled off, the umbrella’s surface melted into the cold air, and a gem on the handle had completely dulled.

Roland tapped the damp floor with “Nova.”

Wherever the staff touched, a silvery-white light spread, and those patterns, invisible to the naked eye, extended beyond sight, mingled with the traces of rain, making it impossible to see where they ended. They seemed to cover a large part of Lincheng’s main urban area.

This was only barely feasible, but he wouldn’t allow the possibility of failure.

When Dan Sheng walked out, he saw Roland standing at the door in a daze. The internet café owner was already used to seeing this young man in his life, but for some reason, seeing him now, his heart suddenly skipped two beats.

The black-haired youth—no, dyeing his hair was a long time ago. Now his hair had faded, and the roots showed its original color. He should be reminded to re-dye his hair.

The middle-aged man thought this, but he hadn’t spoken yet when he inexplicably stopped, even his original steps to leave the door suddenly halted.

Roland heard the footsteps, as if suddenly coming back to his senses, and smiled gently at him.

“Uncle Dan,” he said, “Good evening. Is the shop busy now?”

In reality, Dan Sheng had only chosen a leisurely time to slowly stroll out because business wasn’t good. It had been raining for days, and even though the rain wasn’t heavy, accumulated water had already spread across many roads. Under such conditions, most people were unwilling to go out.

Dan Sheng sighed: “Only a few people, and I expect they’ll all leave soon.”

“Is that so?” Roland’s amber eyes, like a cat’s, stared at him. Dan Sheng suddenly felt a little tense all over. But the other party just naturally responded, “Since no more people will be coming tonight, it’s good to rest early.”

This sentence sounded impeccable.

But for some reason, it felt a little strange.

Dan Sheng looked at the rain outside, which was still falling grimly, almost blurring the distinction between day and night. However, to assert that no customers would come might be too early.

There were schools and residential areas nearby. Even with bad weather, it shouldn’t be so deserted. Moreover, even he knew that the hottest game right now, “Abyss,” was about to update its version. To say that the internet café was empty at such a time was simply unbelievable.

Just as he hesitated, the last few customers inside yawned as they came out, swiped their cards, settled their bills, and left.

Dan Sheng watched them blankly as they walked away with their umbrellas, blending into the quiet, dark street.

“Maybe someone else will come later.”

“No, they won’t,” Roland said calmly, as if stating a simple fact. “Look, all the shops on the street are closed.”

He was right. Perhaps because business was bad, the surrounding shops had also closed their doors. This scene wasn’t unsettling, because as the lights on the first floor went out, the lights on the second floor lit up, appearing especially warm in the rainy weather, making one want to join them and rest early.

In reality, everyone still wandering in the entire surrounding area suddenly had a thought of “going home,” and this thought grew stronger and stronger, so much so that most people couldn’t resist its temptation.

“Little Luo,” Dan Sheng hesitated for a long time, seemingly finally making up his mind, “What about you?”

“Me?” His amber eyes turned to him, looking very surprised.

Internet café owner Dan Sheng, already middle-aged, was almost used to his own son’s attire, but at this moment, he suddenly noticed that the young man staying at the internet café had a sweater chain around his neck. A silver chain hung down his chest, ending in a pitch-black feather. The feather didn’t seem to belong to any bird he recognized.

“As for me,” Roland said slowly, as if chatting, “I think I’m about ready to go home. If you can’t find me, there’s no need to worry. After staying here for so long, I can’t help but miss my hometown. I just want to thank you for your care during this time—”

“What care are you talking about?” Dan Sheng said, “Uncle Taihe, you’re being too formal. I haven’t even compensated you for your medical expenses. Why don’t you get a physical examination before you leave?”

The original atmosphere was solemn and a little sad, but hearing this, Roland couldn’t help but curve his lips.

If he went for a physical examination now, and the X-ray showed he was missing a rib, he wondered what expression the kind middle-aged man in front of him would have. When he smiled, his expression brightened, and those eyes unconsciously made Dan Sheng’s worried heart settle down.

“Oh, it’s good that you’re alright.”

Dan Sheng scratched his head a little awkwardly and also smiled, “Then… leaving tonight?”

“If all goes well.”

“Have you already bought your train ticket—oh, or maybe a plane ticket, are they all ready? Will you come back later?”

This question sounded like a double entendre.

“Everything’s ready,” Roland replied patiently. “If there’s a chance, I’ll definitely come back.”

“That’s good,” Dan Sheng murmured.

He stood at the shop entrance, a distance from Roland. But for some reason, this distance felt very far, as if they were people from two different worlds. He keenly noticed that the other party held an umbrella, but it seemed to have no canopy—perhaps the canopy was transparent, and he was old, so his eyesight wasn’t great. Dan Sheng took a step back, entered the internet café, and then suddenly stopped.

“You must protect yourself.”

He spoke like a nagging elder, then immediately regretted saying such an inexplicable thing.

But Roland paused, this time truly smiling. He held the incomplete umbrella in one hand—Dan Sheng decided to ask Dan Bin if this was a youth trend; with the other hand, he gently placed it over the feather on his chest:

“No problem,” Roland said, “I have my good luck charm with me.”

The conversation finally ended. The internet café owner found no reason to linger and finally went back inside. After a while, “Zero Distance Internet Cafe” closed early, all the lights on the first floor went out, and only the porch light was intentionally left on for Roland. In the hazy glow, Roland pressed his phone to check the time.

From this moment on, only three hours remained until the release of “From the New World” version of “Abyss Continent.”

Hilda stood at the other end of the city.

Nevertheless, silvery-white traces extended to her feet, like lime or white phosphorus, shimmering in the inky rain. She looked forward, backward, left, and right from the fork in the road, finding the patterns spread like a spiderweb, appearing everywhere.

This was simply a breathtaking example of a magic circle. She felt such heartache that she almost wept, for being able to see such a beautiful magic circle in her lifetime, and for only she being able to admire such a beautiful magic circle.

Only “that Archmage” could have such a masterpiece.

Only he would crush the “Essence of the Moon,” of which there was only one in both worlds, into powder. This sacred gem, originally a part of the moon, was now mixed with the mud and water on the ground.

Mages often had a special bond with the staff that had accompanied them the longest, let alone “Nova,” which almost symbolized Roland’s identity.

The witch restrained herself for the umpteenth time from bending down to dig up some powder to take back to the mage tower for worship. Even so… thinking about these things actually made her feel a little lighter, at least she didn’t have to face a calamity that required her to destroy her own magical artifact, unlike the Archmage.

She remembered a story she had heard years ago.

When Roland single-handedly slew the Frost Dragon whose wings alone could cover an entire city, the magic circle he drew had long been included in the Mage Association’s most precious tome. However, no one had ever been able to replicate his miracle.

Unless one was willing to offer their most precious talent as bait, and had the confidence to exhaust half their life without dying.

This time, Roland hadn’t left much room for himself either.

The gem embedded in his staff had already melted into a part of this world. This world had no magic, no magical materials of its own. This meant that the Archmage, whose most important source of power was magic, was very likely to be stripped of this power.

Hilda sighed softly.

Not only after the magic circle was activated… but even whether the magic circle could be successfully activated was a huge question.

She raised her eyes, looking up at the dark sky.

Terrible. In such weather, neither the moon nor the trajectories of the stars could be seen to make calculations. The Archmage’s source of power was light, and the star power he was most skilled at utilizing was undoubtedly at a disadvantage in this situation.

Even if the “Essence of the Moon” was used, without the ability to summon light, the power of the magic circle would likely be less than expected.

The swirling clouds in the distance had already vaguely revealed a pale crack.

Their enemy could almost distort the entire world.

And at this moment, she could do nothing. Hilda hated her powerlessness, though Roland didn’t think so.

The Archmage believed it was crucial to leave a companion behind who knew how to adapt to circumstances, and the witch greatly alleviated some of the pressure of drawing the magic circle for him. In the end, she might even need to stay in the real world for a while to handle the aftermath.

But when Hilda pressed the thimble-sized source of magic to her chest, she still felt ashamed.

She even needed to waste power to be protected.

The witch was determined to complete the task left by her mentor beautifully.

And then—that hero actually lived in this world, and coincidentally was one of the causes of all this.

Hilda already knew this.

The witch gently stroked her cuff, pondering something unknown, but her lips curved upwards in an ominous smile, her eyes icy.

At this moment, her gaze skipped over the rain curtain, looking across the street at the electronic display screen of the opposite shopping mall through the hazy streetlights. The numbers on it changed with time, and she had already learned to read the digital clock.

From this moment on, only two hours remained until the release of “From the New World” version of “Abyss Continent.”

Bai Shi rubbed his eyes and looked at the dormitory balcony.

Rain splattered in. He had secretly gone out to look earlier, and fear and excitement coexisted in his heart, making his heart pound nervously.

In his imagination, the dark purple sky was falling straight to the ground. He found it somewhat unbelievable: was such an anomaly truly created for him? Yet, he also felt it was natural; the arrival of a new world was destructive, and its appearance was bound to be astonishing enough.

Now his gaze returned to the computer screen.

Under the system’s urging, he had thoroughly utilized his time in recent days. The blonde hero participated in royal balls and parades in “Abyss Continent” in a way that most captured the hearts of young girls. Soon, his name circulated throughout the streets and alleys.

Thanks to the mercenary players he had recently befriended.

And of course… the vanished witch.

Now the version of the story circulating in the kingdom had become: the princess was captured by an evil cult, and the brave hero fearlessly went alone and rescued her at the last moment.

The hero’s image was sufficiently glorious and dazzling. For a time, the names on his controller’s favorability interface constantly surged upwards.

Just by seeing him, people would involuntarily fall under the spell of the charming system, and with the added boost of those stories, they would secretly fall for him, deeply infatuated. The feeling of being adored by countless people was exhilarating.

Miss Singer, across the screen, blushed and subtly blinked at him.

Bai Shi wished he could rush into the screen right now. However, he was pressed for time. To accumulate more influence before the world merged, he had to sacrifice time spent flirting with each person and temporarily follow the “public lover” route.

Most of those he attracted were ordinary girls, winning purely by quantity. In reality, for him, he still had to pick and choose carefully.

He would truly become the “Hero” soon.

A beautiful life unfolded vividly before him. He controlled his character to accept the flowers handed to him by the noble girl, feeling as if he smelled the sweet scent of the flowers, his mind filled with all sorts of chaotic imaginations.

“Keep it down!”

His roommate, who was about to fall asleep, was woken by his movements and mumbled a shout at him.

Bai Shi hesitated for a moment, then heavily struck the keyboard, making an even louder noise.

That’s right, it had come to this. Future happiness seemed to be within reach. Who had the right to meddle in his affairs? When the worlds merged, he would be above everyone, and then these people’s lives would be in his control, at a single thought.

His roommate cursed a few times but no longer bothered him.

Bai Shi fell back into his fantasy. He had been online for so long that he felt a little dizzy, but his body was in a state of high excitement. He wiped his eyes.

At this moment, the young man was disheveled. Because he had poured all his energy into the game, he hadn’t had time to wash his hair, even though it was greasy. Next to him was a bowl of instant noodles, not thrown away for a day and a night, its contents long solidified and sour.

But his gaze no longer reflected the real world.

He was the magnificent hero.

The melodious music in Bai Shi’s ears seemed to have a faint static again. He frowned, finally feeling a bit concerned. This expensive headset had indeed much better sound quality than his original wired headphones.

Could it be that it had some unknown malfunction? Thinking this, Bai Shi reached for the headphones.

“Hello, Host.”

A cold voice suddenly sounded in his mind, almost startling him.

But he quickly realized that it was just the system contacting him again: “World merging is about to begin. Please ensure your progress, do not do irrelevant things, so as not to miss prompts.”

Now was the system’s busiest time. Therefore, it only checked the status of the Son of Destiny at intervals, and then disappeared from his mind.

Bai Shi withdrew his hand, sullenly stating that he just felt something was wrong with his Bluetooth headphones.

“…Host, please be prepared and do not be distracted.”

The emotionless mechanical voice spoke coldly, but then reassuringly repeated, as before, the major changes in money, power, and fame that would happen to him after the world merged.

The system had told him this spiel countless times, but it was indeed very effective for dealing with the Son of Destiny.

“I understand.”

Bai Shi pouted, “I’ll listen to you.”

He turned his attention back to the computer screen. The scene before him was incredibly real, reflected in his eyes, as if the world had already merged at this moment, and he was already living in the game.

The voice in his mind also ceased.

Bai Shi didn’t know that the mechanical voice’s beautiful prospects had a second half.

If two worlds forcibly merged, their conflicting systems would inevitably collide. Demons and other evil creatures would quickly occupy territory, but the real world’s destructive weapons would also be activated, powerful enough to destroy themselves.

Great chaos would sweep across the entire continent; this was the disaster foretold in the prophecy.

As the hero who gathered all hopes, and also the connector of the two worlds, Bai Shi would naturally be able to live comfortably for a period, enjoying the feeling of being admired without doing anything, like a parasite, being pushed to the pinnacle.

The system was just waiting for this moment to completely harvest his luck.

Then, he would become a discarded pawn.

When the system withdrew, he would rot with this no-longer-useful world in some corner of the myriad small worlds.

The system didn’t tell the Son of Destiny these things, and he himself would never have thought of them. After all, no protagonist of a foreign world’s “Dragon King” genre, with countless concubines and super cheats, had ever fallen to such a tragic end.

Bai Shi considered himself the protagonist, and he had already reached a dangerously delusional state. At this point, even if told, he wouldn’t believe it.

This time, the electronic sound also stopped abruptly.

Bai Shi’s gaze returned to the screen, unwavering. He clicked on the menu bar and checked the time.

From this moment on, only one hour remained until the release of “From the New World” version of “Abyss Continent.”

Kriesmeier suddenly opened his eyes.

The stars were reversing, blood-colored streaks crossed the night sky, and a crack opened in the western sky. The Demon King looked at the dome of the demon palace, his dark golden eyes seemingly seeing through the barrier, reflecting everything that was happening.

The white bone scythe in his hand trembled incessantly.

Before Kriesmeier even realized it, he tightly clutched the rib whose owner was still unknown. Abyss demons knew nothing of emotions, nor what emotions could make his heart beat, but the Demon King, who had never known fear, felt such an intense palpitation for the first time.

The feeling was bone-piercingly painful, making his fingers involuntarily clench into claws, as if he wanted to brutally dig out the heart that plagued him.

But just before he acted, his peripheral vision once again caught a glimpse of the shadow in the hall.

The nightmare that had plagued him since that awakening in a dream.

At first, it was just inanimate objects like flowers, but then it grew more intense, until finally, as soon as he opened his eyes, he could see the human with amber eyes smiling at him.

Nightmares couldn’t speak, their expressions didn’t change, and if touched, they would turn into imperceptible dust.

Kriesmeier didn’t remember his dreams.

But whether he understood it or not, he had to look at these remnants of dreams.

The Demon King’s expression was cold. He swung his scythe horizontally, and all the phantoms in the hall instantly vanished.

He walked down the steps of the demon palace one by one. The doors opened for him as he approached. Kriesmeier’s silver-gray long hair seemed like dim moonlight, while the real moon was hidden behind the clouds. He walked under the sky and raised his dark golden, god-like eyes.

Blood-red stars dyed his eyes crimson.

A magnificent destruction.

Kriesmeier’s heart, against his will, beat as if it would leap out of his chest the next second. Had it recognized something else as its new master? The Demon King’s expression darkened. He once again placed his fingers over his heart, but his fingertips also betrayed him, trembling uncontrollably from an unknown moment.

Why exactly—

Kriesmeier absolutely refused to admit his weakness.

He could even openly display his broken horn without hesitation. How could he have a weakness he didn’t even know about?

Above the firmament, the crack grew wider and wider, as if damp vapor surged from the tearing rift. But something was preventing this irreversible power that was tearing the world apart.

Pure light covered it, covering the sky’s scar. The light was dazzling, almost completely captivating Kriesmeier’s vision.

What was that…?

Bright, gentle, pristine light.

Not starlight, not moonlight. This was a power even the Demon King couldn’t identify. He watched as the light expended all its energy to mend the rift, yet it seemed to exhaust itself, flickering abruptly in his eyes, then extinguishing.

Kriesmeier extended his fingertips. He watched in surprise as his fingertips tensed from pain, only a dull emptiness remaining in his dark golden eyes.

That light was about to die.

He didn’t know it.

But he felt a part of himself was also about to die forever.

Kriesmeier felt a scorching pain. His fingertips seemed to ignite, his wings immersed in an unquenchable fire. The Demon King couldn’t bear it. He had to do something, yet he couldn’t do anything; the rift had already disappeared.

Burning heat spread through the Demon King’s thoughts. He would soon descend into an irrational frenzy.

He wanted to raise his scythe and cleave the sky.

Just as he was about to reach his limit, the Demon King’s dark golden pupils suddenly contracted the next second. He was astonished to realize that this feeling was real.

Something was burning.

And that was a part of him, even though it had left his body, it still had a connection with him, so faint it was almost imperceptible.

It was burning. This thought pulled the Demon King back from the edge of madness.

It was like a drowning person, grasping at anything, believing it to be the antidote, even if it was just a straw.

—Even if it was a light, black feather.

The Demon King’s wings moved according to his will. For instance, the feathers that served as arrows during his battles would dissipate shortly after falling to the ground. Otherwise, the wings of Abyss demons would not be considered precious magical materials.

If a feather maintained its form, it must have been against his will and contained his power.

He had forgotten again.

…He had given someone one of his feathers.

Kriesmeier stood under the firmament, like a netherworld specter, his eyes a chaotic void, or like a pure beast looking up at the sky, as if the final judgment awaited him there.

The Demon King didn’t know what was happening on the other side of the firmament. He merely used all his strength to sense how that feather was burning down until it turned to ash, becoming a lifeless object devoid of any energy. He suddenly reached up and touched his eye socket.

Under the turbulent sky, the Demon King blankly touched his own tears.

At this moment, the clouds obscuring the night sky scattered, and the starlight shone again, falling upon him.

One second later, in another world.

The countdown to the scheduled release of “Abyss Continent”‘s “From the New World” version reached its end.