Game Transmigration: Saving the World Again 1000 Years Later

372 Price

Quelling the chaotic turmoil exterior to the White Bone Castle was not arduous for the thoroughly disciplined High Elf forces. The High Elf warriors who pursued this path had gleaned expertise from generations of their forebears. Irrespective of the criteria regarded from any race, they were the best mortal troops in Currere.

In comparison, the Forest Elves, who had evolved from the High Elves, could only be described as a mob after thousands of years of degeneration without organization and leadership.

However, Remides’s commands made the elite warriors’ job of suppression much harder.

She didn’t allow her High Elf warriors to use lethal force—other than dealing with the tree spirits and Beast Spirits besieging them outside the battlefield, this usually tough Shadow Queen didn’t even allow her troops to take the lives of any Forest Elf.

But why? Even as possible allies, as distant blood relatives of the same race, shouldn’t there be special ways of handling them in such an emergency? What made the lone dictator, who had fought in the expeditionary fleet war with the Riel Empire and whose actions had become legendary, accept such a compromise?

Similar questions only lingered in the minds of these warriors for a few seconds. They were the purest soldiers. As long as they accepted orders, they wouldn’t ask excessive questions—this was also an inheritance that their forebears had reinforced in the depths of their souls.

Some people called it shackles or curses.

No matter what, with the chanting of incantations one after another, Earth-type spells trapped the legs of the rioters, and Illusion-type spells sealed their angry wills. Even if a few people broke free, they were knocked to the ground by the shield guards around the magister—in the end, it was the White Bone Castle guards who ended up with more kills than them.

The time they bought allowed the remaining Ava State magisters to reactivate the barrier that had been destroyed by the Beast Lord. As the White Bone Castle’s barrier was repaired, they blockaded a larger number of the rioting mob outside.

“Repairing the barrier isn’t protecting ourselves, but to protect them.”

The High Elf officer in charge pointed at the citizens outside and explained to the White Bone Castle guard captain.

If the tall Beast Lord hadn’t descended, they could be said to have nothing to worry about. However, with every step the antler-crowned god took, an additional corner of the sky behind Him was dyed blood-red by the blood moon that symbolized hunting and wildness. An incomparably terrifying pressure crushed everyone on this side.

Looking at the tall God of Hunting that they had only heard of in myths and legends slowly and firmly approaching them, or rather, the White Bone Castle that they were guarding behind them, the guard captain in charge of palace defense swallowed his saliva and forcefully stopped his knees from trembling as he asked, “Can you… all those sorcerers collectively stop Him?”

The High Elf officer immediately shook his head and said, “That’s the projection of a real god. It’s impossible even at the cost of all our lives.”

The guard captain’s face instantly turned ashen, but before he could curse, the High Elf continued calmly, “But it’s enough that you don’t kneel in front of Him because… our governor can stop Him.”

As soon as he finished speaking, three arrows swept through an intense storm from another direction, flying faster than his voice towards the white giant wrapped in animal skin and wearing an antler crown. The latter turned his head and moved his gaze from the nearby White Bone Castle for the first time before looking in the direction where the arrows came from.

Then, with a beast howl that was enough to shake the ground, He slammed the flint spear in His hand to the ground, and countless berserk wild beast spirits instantly appeared in the air as if they had been ignited.

The storm brought about by the arrows was blown away by the beast howls, and the three arrows were bitten by the countless wild beasts, instantly disappearing into nothingness.

A blond High Elf in light leather armor appeared in a bolt of lightning. She held the transparent bow in her hand tightly and looked into the Beast Lord’s wild eyes.

“I made it…” Remides whispered. An ancient-looking soul box was firmly tied to the belt at her waist.

“In the end, you are still the one to make the choice again, Nehe…”

She had a grudging tone to her voice, but it also sounded like a memorial in which she honored him.

…

After saying this, William remained silent and waited for the other party’s reply—just like how Nehe waited quietly for William to tell him the final outcome after destroying the Necromancer Association that wreaked havoc in Ravenwood.

Since the other party was already a part of the Lady of Starvation, Nehe, who also had the same vision as the Void Sovereign, should be able to cross many timelines to know what had happened in Currere.

William didn’t explain further. After all, the other party’s aloof attitude after seeing him explained everything.

However, at least this time, he didn’t plan on helping the other party make a choice out of so-called good intentions.

“Presiding Judge…”

Nehe didn’t even look at the Seed of Hope in William’s hand. After a moment of silence, he said slowly, “Now, I just want to understand one thing…”

“Why did I hide your soul box back then, right?” William sighed and asked. He felt guilty towards the Judge—the only one. His voice was gentle.

Nehe nodded solemnly.

William sighed and didn’t want to lie to him. “If I told you that I knew back then that you would die as long as I returned the soul box to you, would you believe me?”

“But from the looks of it, if I had died back then, it would have brought about a better ending,” Nehe replied calmly.

“Therefore, I will absolutely respect your opinion this time. As long as you’re willing, I’ll use the remaining Seed of Hope to pull you back to Currere from death and destiny. I’ll find a possibility that you can exist normally from countless timelines.”

William changed the topic solemnly.

There was little of the time Camilla had left for him.

“That’s also to find a possibility that I can exist normally from the countless timelines you’ve experienced, right?” Nehe replied calmly, as if he wasn’t talking about his fate.

William opened his mouth but didn’t know how to answer.

“The real Nehe had long died on the day he was converted into a lich. From then on, what existed in Currere was only a remnant soul left behind by the Lady of Starvation. The only thing you encountered who fought by your side was the Resound left behind by the Void Sovereign in Currere. Therefore, even if you expend this precious Seed of Hope, the one who will ultimately be reborn is another self that can’t be saved,” Nehe continued.

“But to me, that’s the real you,” William replied firmly.

“To me… My true self died that day. “The current me is just another filthy soul that shares the same origin as a Void Sovereign. I’m using Nehe’s name and memories to bring disaster to everything he once cherished.”

Nehe looked at William seriously and continued, “Therefore, please tell me about the other choice? Since you asked previously, I believe you must have prepared an even more interesting plan.”

Upon hearing those words, William closed his eyes and sighed.

After a long time, the Moon Realm Calamity opened its eyes again.

“If you’re unwilling to be reborn in Currere as your original identity, I have to guarantee that your death is worth it.”

The hesitation and guilt in his tone faded, and his voice was iron felt.

“For example, completely destroying a Void Sovereign.”

———

Author’s words:

After disappearing for so long, no matter how resentful everyone is towards me, I can understand (or can’t understand, but no matter how everyone curses me, I feel like I deserved it).

This is a problem with my personality. When I encounter something I can’t handle, I bury my head in the sand and pretend to be an ostrich. But after thinking about it, writing stories publicly on the Internet can’t be met with the same willfulness as writing a diary. And a written work doesn’t just belong to me. It belongs to every reader. In short, let’s give this book an episodic summary and talk about my future plans—if you’re willing to listen.

Frankly, it’s true that I can’t continue writing this book, but it’s definitely not because of poor earnings. I often mock myself in the chat, saying that I’m like a plant who can survive with just sunlight, air and water. In fact, for me, as long as I make enough money to support the minimum needs for sustenance and pay the minimum social security taxes for freelancers, I can keep writing. The reason I can’t write is simply because I can’t write as a creator.

In my mind, the book’s plot began to collapse earlier than any reader’s. It probably started at the beginning of the second volume, and the plot line began to fail earlier, in the middle of the first volume. Basically, it began with an interesting setting that I had made a long time ago, but the more I wrote, the more I felt that the two were completely incompatible. But the requirement to release regularly made me keep going through the outline whenever I didn’t know how to move the plot forward, looking for something I could use to force the plot forward.

But it shouldn’t be an outline carrying a story, but how a story carries the outline.

So the daily releases and the shame of me giving excuses to the readers gnawed at me, and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I ran away.

I actually want to say a lot more about my confessions, pleas, apologies, explanations and guarantees. But I always feel that these things are not very meaningful. After all, readers and authors rely on their work to connect. The authors’ output and the reader’s understanding together complete the work. Therefore, putting aside the work, it is very shameless and the use of emotional blackmail for authors to seek forgiveness from an author’s personal point of view about how difficult it is for them.

Don’t forgive me if I can’t come up with a work worthy of your expectations and sacrifices. Readers do not need to empathize with authors about how difficult it is.

As Ip Man in “The Grandmaster” put it, “Kungfu—two words. Horizontal. Vertical. Make a mistake—horizontal. Stay standing and you win.”

I have no right to speak of this book. You don’t have to forgive me. I can take any insults.

Then tell me what I planned to do with the story.

Although the book is terrible, I still believe that there is some potential in the main storyline and setting. Because in the future, I will definitely do a reboot—transmigrating into a game I completed, in an era that I no longer belong to, taking in how things change, experiencing the shadows of the past, correcting the mistakes of those years. This story structure is actually a bit like the story of Ultramarines: A Warhammer 40,000, of Guilliman who wakes up after 10,000 years of stasis and sees the devastated human empire, then fights hard to try to steer her back from the wrong path. The future will probably follow the tone of the dark fantasy of Warhammer or Dark Souls and re-enact the story of players saving the world in another world—probably a very apocalyptic story.

A worldview based purely on idealism, on the other hand, is suited to a time of subtle peace, with stories of undercurrents surging beneath the peace, like a magical version of the Cold War. The wars that determine the fate of the world are less fanciful, but the results of the wars change the world overnight, rewriting everyone’s perceptions … something like that.

All in all, the future reboot of the story will be something like that. A darker, crueler, more heroic story of a gamer saving the world. And a more cognitive, mystical, magical setting, borne by a more appropriate story.

Finally, regarding William’s future adventures and the truth about the Vic Continent.

Originally planned, the story went like this: Under pressure, Remides orders her soldiers to attack the Forest Elf mobs, repeating the history of the High Elves’ invasion of Ravenwood. When the ritual is completed, the Lady of Starvation is replaced by Nehe, but because of William’s conversation, the throne ends up destroyed. The complete death of a Void Sovereign, nullifies the contract between Currere and the Moon Realm, allowing for everyone to run amok in Currere — the true purpose of the Whispering Empress’s secret collaboration with the Absurdity Jester. From the moment the Whispering Empress gave some of Her authority to Valk, they had been plotting how to kill the Lady of Starvation.

But because the Moon Realm beings had also begun to attack each other, Currere isn’t immediately obliterated.

William heads to Platinum City, defeating Terra’s true divine vessel, announces his true identity, and forcefully takes over the empire. He investigates members of the royal family and learns that Terra was one of the extreme ones in Judgment. In order to summon him back to keep the situation under control, he brought up a person with a compatible soul and imitated the heroic path of his own deeds. (That person developed his own ambitions because of the influence of Moon Realm. He was unwilling to become the reincarnation of a past hero and eventually attacked the Judges and became the Emperor Terra of the empire.)

If William wanted to be crowned and gain the authority of the Eighth Holy Spirit, he would have to find the descendants or remnants of the Judges and put them back together. With the help of the Absurdity Jester, William finally completes the coronation after meeting up with old friends or seeing objects that remind him of their owner.

When William is finally crowned, he is stabbed in the back by Koos, the resurrected little shadow. Koos was the last insurance left behind by the Judgment extremists. He sacrificed himself to become a conceptual curse that “doesn’t allow the wrong Presiding Judge to last.” Every time Tara tried to reincarnate to complete the ritual of becoming the Eighth Holy Spirit, Koos would hunt him down. Originally, the curse had no effect on William, the real Presiding Judge, but it used some of the power of the Lady of Starvation, which was similar to the concept of “death by fate.” After the Lady of Starvation died, Absurd Jester seized the power and kept it. In fact, that was what He was trying to do when He plotted the Lady of Starvation’s death. All He was doing was to complete his grandest comedy, so that the birth and fall of a Holy Spirit could be performed on the same day.

William dies, but Zhou Mu’s consciousness does not dissipate. He enters another save and re-emerges as the former Goddess of Hope and Despair (female character).

In short, he (she?) engages in a conceptual melee with the Void Sovereigns who had descended into Currere — to fight for the Precepts. In the end, only Valk and Zhou Mu are left, and the rest are resurrected in the Moon Realm. Zhou Mu announces that the other party has no interest in the Precepts at all, so why bother competing with him? But He replies that what He pursues is extreme drama. For him, the ending of the story doesn’t have to be a victory, but it has to be exciting enough. From the moment Zhou Mu descended as the Goddess of Hope and Despair, His expectations had been met, and now all He had to do was finish the performance.

In the end, after defeating Valk, Zhou Mu goes to the throne known as the “Ultima” to obtain the so-called “Precept.” On the Ultima throne sits the Tacma Church’s only true god, Ma. When Zhou Mu sees the other’s image, he is stunned. Ma is his own image, a sleeping version of himself.

In short, he finally learns the truth about this world—a dream, but of course, it’s not Zhou Mu’s, but another dream of an unknown existence. Zhou Mu is actually a “foreign object” from somewhere else. It was his transmigration that shattered the perfect “Light Realm,” the dreamless sleep of an unknown existence, and thus resulting in the creation of Currere.

Zhou Mu was the first cause of creation.

Imagine a person sleeping, and then someone clubbing him with a wooden club, and the club ends up projecting itself into sleep and becoming a nightmare.

The unknown existence is that person, the perfect Light Realm is his state of sleep, and Zhou Mu is the club, the foreign object. The transmigrated William in the story is the image of the foreign object in the dream.

The moment of creation was the moment when Zhou Mu transmigrated to become William. Time began here and extended forward and backward at the same time. Therefore, the past, like the future, could be changed. This is also the meaning of the fourth volume, World’s End. Everything happening in this volume was originally meant to pave the way for this conclusion.

But being clubbed while sleeping is a dangerous affair, and a little carelessness can lead to waking up. So after Zhou Mu receives the Precept, he has two choices. Destroy most of Currere and the Moon Realm, leaving behind only what he wants. Simple and to the point, allowing the dream to continue as long as possible. Or let the world continue to develop, becoming more and more complicated, until he awakens one day and sees what the world looks like after his awakening.

I’m not sure which answer William would choose, but I have a feeling that if I were him, I would choose neither and attempt to find another path. But in any case, my ability can’t handle the free (?) direction of this … story. Or perhaps there are too many aforementioned problems accumulated from before, some of which are hard to come back from. In any case, I’ve released this simple outline. Although it can’t be said to be an explanation to the reader, I’ll try to resolve some of everyone’s doubts.

I’m currently working on a cyberpunk-themed book, and when I’m done with it, I should be back to reboot the story of a player’s ability to enter a game after a perfect save and turn the tide. Of course, if I can come up with a better, more epic idea than Saving the World Again and find a way to express it well, it could be another mystic-themed story.

You don’t have to forgive me for my most sincere apology to the readers who have been waiting all this while. Although I don’t think I have the right to make you hate me (after all, hate is not the opposite of love), I would feel much more at ease if you could hate me. And those who originally liked my work but are now disappointed, so they blocked me and don’t care about me, a third-rate online novelist, are the ones who really make me lose it.

But I deserve it, too.

But either way, I’m looking forward to our meeting in the next story.