Welcome to Rewind World Game-Chapter 1670 - 13: [Shore Crossing Arc] "Don’t Try to Stop His Dream.
The "Prophet’s" eyes glimmered with the blue of time. He lowered his stance and uttered bewildering words:
"Because ten thousand..."
"Ugh!"
Another claw mark tore through the wings, and Lü Shu grunted, splattering blood. These wings were not only his strength but also his divinity and life. Each tear felt like a piece of his soul was being brutally carved out.
The green pupils contracted from the intense pain, yet his gaze remained fixed ahead—
"If you want to be the Chess Piece of the Dream Realm, you be it! If you want to be the Seventh Thrones’ pawn, you be it!!!" Lü Shu roared,
"Don’t think—of obstructing his ideals!!!"
"Swish!"
He swung heavily, and the scythe fell!
It was as if the air froze for a moment, and the sky and earth temporarily turned black and white.
The frenzied Blood Clan, the roaring Bone Dragon, the fervent believers, the fallen maid... all turned into motionless statues.
Then, time started to flow again.
When people realized what had happened, the minds of those who partially recovered went blank momentarily.
—The sky was "slashed" open.
Like a thick oil painting, rudely plowed through by an invisible scraper. On either side of the scythe’s trajectory, everything turned into a deathly gray and white.
A golden giant eye above the firmament dripped golden liquid along the path of the gray-white fissure, as if shedding tears.
Lü Shu raised his blade, carving out a conspicuous void in front of him.
—All life blocking its way vanished completely.
"Clang—!"
Lü Shu’s figure wavered for a moment, propping against the scythe as weakness rushed over him like a tide.
...At that moment, the "Saint Heir" opened his eyes.
"Clang—!"
Atlanda’s dagger clashed with Lü Shu’s Black Scythe, and through the gaps in the layered wings, Atlanda’s gaze suddenly locked with the awakened Su Ming’an. In that moment, surprise flashed across Atlanda’s face, followed by a beast-like excitement, brimming with utmost joy.
"You’re awake... you’re awake!" Atlanda laughed, "My ten thousand score player...!"
Su Ming’an had no idea what this man was so excited about, as if immersed in an intense self-induced fervor. Through the fluttering black wings, through the soft gaps, he calmly said: "You seem unfamiliar to me, Atlanda."
In his impression, Atlanda was a gentleman, mild-mannered and gentle, yet now, those eyes overflowed with excitement and fervor. Could it be due to remembering some memories from the cycle of the universe? Hence, the insane fervor towards Su Ming’an.
Su Ming’an’s gaze met Lü Shu’s Ming River-like eyes through blood-stained gaps in the wings.
Lü Shu said nothing, but his eyes seemed to speak.
—Leave it to me.
Su Ming’an closed his eyes, his consciousness immersing into the Holy Sword.
—Alright.
He needed to make the Holy Sword recognize him as its master, otherwise, the struggle was meaningless.
The inexhaustible onslaughts hadn’t ended yet, as if a Solitary Island was being attacked by a swarm of sharks, Lü Shu once again swung the scythe. He wasn’t even proficient with this weapon; he was better with the Black Blade, but only a Divine Artifact could unleash his greatest power at that moment.
"Slash!"
The blade struck its wings.
"Ugh!"
A spear pierced through its shoulder.
"Rip——!"
The pitch-black feathers were torn apart, scattered chaotically through the air, spraying blood.
Beneath the wings lay the slumbering Su Ming’an. The golden glow of the Holy Sword flowed over him, casting a warm hue over his pale cheeks, while the external chaos seemed like a completely different world.
"...Get off!!!"
Lü Shu fiercely swept horizontally! Severing the altered priests that lunged forward halfway, as if the battle was endless. More "believers" filled the void. They advanced expressionlessly, tearing at the Black Wings of protection.
"Slash! Slash! Slash!"
One by one, the pitch-black feathers were forcibly plucked, torn, and shattered. The resilient wing membranes were crisscrossed with wounds, revealing the dark golden bones and blood. Countless infant hands even attempted to stretch into the wounds, tearing deeper into the flesh.
The white-haired youth maneuvered and darted across the small "Solitary Island," wielding the black scythe into a vortex of destruction, intercepting attacks from every direction.
Pain kept piling up, blood flowed more and more, and the weakness seemed to engulf it.
Its breathing grew heavy, and its movements inevitably started to slow.
—Then,
"Here comes! Get him!!!"
"Quickly help Brother Tree——!!"
"We are awake! Awakened!"
——The cries of the players came from below the stage.
Leading them was Ajima Kanko, who had already broken free from the control of her eyes, holding a White Pearl high in her hand, its white light radiating outward in waves.
Ordinary people find it difficult to resist the control of the eyes. Only those with high Mentality Points like Ajima Kanko, who are healers, mages, or summoners, can resist better. Ajima Kanko made a decisive action, first awakening the healer players, gathering the "Healer Legion," and charged towards the stage.
Clearly, it was Priest Magic, but because of its Holy Attribute, it surprisingly exerted a greater destructive power than normal spells. A group of priests "charged" in, using their Priest’s Staff as large swords, slashing fiercely.
"Ha!" A girl wielding a pink heart-shaped Priest’s Staff swung it forcefully, golden light knocking back several mutated Beastmen.
"Hey ya!" A red-haired mature woman wielded her Priest’s Staff adorned with white lace as a large sword, striking hard at the enemy’s head!
A middle-aged man in a puffy skirt even recited Magic Girl transformation slogans, casting Purification Technique towards the enemy.
"Who cares about gods or demons, no one is more formidable than me!" the players shouted.
"Here I come!"
"I’m going up!"
"I’m going to mouse around! Mom! Mom, heal me!"
"I give in! You yourself are a healer!"
"Boom—boom—boom—!"
In the sky, the collision of two revived deities and two Abyss Monarchs erupted with energy like a spilled giant oil painting, lightning flashing and thunder roaring, spatial rifts tearing through like a riven night.
On the ground, powerful beings from various polluted tribes, Church Knights, and players were locked in chaotic battle.
Everywhere, blood splattered, limbs broke, and Energy Crystals shattered. The pale infant’s hand twitched on the ground even after being severed, eyeballs scattering like golden berries, bones and organs flung everywhere...
...
Within the Holy Sword, Su Ming’an opened his eyes.
A transparent soul stood in the void of the golden space, waiting for him.
Her long white hair cascaded like a waterfall, with neat bangs at the forehead and sideburns reaching her jawline—a classic princess cut hairstyle. The girl wore a simple white gauze long dress. The most striking was her expression, which bore a deep-seated exhaustion.
"...Lunxue." Su Ming’an hadn’t expected to see her here. She had been missing before, yet the team had no notification of her death. How could she be here?
She sensed Su Ming’an’s gaze, her pupils turning slowly, worn out from what seemed like routine work.
"Hmm, so it seems you are the bearer of the Holy Sword."
"Lunxue?" Su Ming’an called out.
"Who? Doesn’t ring a bell." She yawned.
"Aren’t you Lunxue?"
"I am the Sword Spirit." She denied it.
"The same vibe, aren’t you?" Su Ming’an questioned.
"No." The Sword Spirit said, "Previously, a player managed to sneak up on me, secretly touched me, and I remembered her appearance. Now I use her appearance to appear in front of you... Okay. Now to inform you of the truth of the Gods of Luowasha."
"Wait." Su Ming’an raised his hand, "I’m in a hurry to leave; let’s chat later."
"Heh... Time here is almost still. But the chance for the Holy Sword to recognize its master and learn the truth is nearly once in a lifetime. Are you sure you want to give it up?" The Sword Spirit said. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖
"You speak." Su Ming’an immediately changed his attitude, lowering his hands.
"Hmph..." The Sword Spirit yawned listlessly, pacing around Su Ming’an, turning half a circle and then another half circle. Just as Su Ming’an began to grow impatient, she uttered a most shocking statement:
"Almost all Second-level Gods and Third-level Gods were personally created by First Level Gods."
Su Ming’an’s pupils contracted, as if hearing an impossible truth.
"How did you know?"
"I read it in Hui Chi’s diary. This guy knows so much, I even suspect he has some unclear relationship with Kritchens... Could it be an old flame?" The Sword Spirit turned her eyes, guessing.
"How did you, a Sword Spirit, leave the Holy Sword?" Su Ming’an asked.
"You have to let a working spirit slack off a bit." The Sword Spirit, hands tucked behind her head, said, "Who says a Sword Spirit must be trapped in a sword? Don’t think just because I’m good-natured you can ask all sorts of questions. This sword was forged with a lot of malice; I should have been a very fierce Sword Spirit—be thankful to the little girl called Lunxue, if it weren’t for her touching me, I wouldn’t even appear to look like this... Sigh... Too gentle, now I just want to nap..."
Su Ming’an immediately said, "Speak the truth."
The Sword Spirit pursed her lips, sighed, and said tiredly, "Anyway... originally, the Luowasha wasn’t made up of the Twenty-seven Gods, only three true Deities: Mother Goddess of Radiance Kritchens, God of Chaos Augustine, and Demon Mother Goddess Isabelle. But to enhance the epic feel of the story, they created twenty ’Pseudo-Gods’."
"Pseudo-Gods..." Su Ming’an stated.
The Sword Spirit chuckled lightly for some reason; her laughter contained a subtle sadness. Near Su Ming’an’s ear, she unveiled the truth of Luowasha—
...
Holy Temple, Backyard.
"Da da da..."
The camera swayed on her chest, and the girl’s red hair was tied into a ponytail. Her leather vest swayed slightly, brown-black boots stepping lightly. She avoided guards and knights, moving through the palace as if it were an uninhabited land, swiftly passing through corridors, gardens, rockeries, and pavilions...
Finally, she arrived in front of a heavily guarded building and slipped into the depths of the palace.
"Finally slipped in... Hui Chi’s room..." she exhaled a breath, walking forward in the shadows of the room, a scent of old paper, ink, and herbs filling her nose.
——As a Photographer, Zhao Yuan didn’t rush into battle like the other top-ranked players. She chose to do what she did best, infiltrating the enemy camp and finding Hui Chi’s room.
The girl’s nimble eyes scanned the room, endless books appearing before her, resembling a cave swallowed by literature. Under the dome, huge floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stretched from the ground to the skylight, forming precarious mountains. There was heavy leather, fragile papyrus, and smooth bound volumes... making one feel as if they had walked into a book paradise.
