Welcome to Rewind World Game-Chapter 1515 - 13: He Has Been Buried in the Raging River
Eni’s eyes flickered, knowing the Master of Thought and Faith referred to the Seventh Thrones, Ninth Thrones, Master of the End of All Things, and Supreme Lord, but who was this Chen Qingguang?
Eni slightly raised his right hand, with a blue-shimmering ring on his thumb.
As one of the eight protagonist candidates, Eni’s Golden Finger was the "Time Rewind System" of the rebirth genre. In these dozens of days, he returned to the Genesis Era of the Second Epoch through the Time Elf Ming Rui, multiple times touching upon the Time authority that Sique researched, deepening his own Time authority.
He was always a step behind Su Ming’an; his Time authority was a replica. The influence of his initial writing "A Brief Analysis on the Issue of How Players Can Save Themselves" in the World Game paled in comparison to a period casually posted by Su Ming’an. This was naturally due to his deliberate low profile, but...
"Then let’s give it a try, who has the more interesting rebound..." Eni caressed the blue-glow shimmering ring, his eyes deep blue like the sea.
...
The Fourth Thrones Aria was resting.
It slept extremely sweetly, undisturbed by the world.
It was purely neutral, indifferent to Zhai XIng’s outcome. Though its kind-hearted form manifested as a pink-haired fox, sharing a close private relationship with Su Ming’an, that was only a part of it, unable to influence its disposition.
Unexpectedly, this day during its rest, part of its Spiritual Body was suddenly summoned to Luowasha.
"What’s going on..." Aria opened its vision, seeing the increasingly clouded sky, where many Organizers stood in place, their gaze fixed on a black-haired, flowing young man.
"Su Ming’an? What trouble did he cause? Oh, he’s been exposed... No wonder we’ve been gathered here, he’s openly violating rules. According to the World Game, every Player is equal in the open... Hah, really laughable, what counts as equal, what doesn’t..." Aria murmured in its heart: "This time there’s no Noel Agnes to cover for him, indeed it’s unsalvageable... He’s placed the knife in Their hands, his courage is commendable... But, can he ensure his safety until his energy reaches 10,000 points? It’s only 8,750 points now..."
All High Dimensions were very clear about the current situation.
After reporting the world coordinates, summoning Starfire will inevitably succeed. Su Ming’an’s current task is merely to wait, until Luowasha’s energy value reaches 10,000 points.
Before this, Su Ming’an cannot die, cannot fall into despair, cannot be controlled by High Dimensions, cannot lose his soul and consciousness.
He has completed everything he ought to do; as long as he ensures his survival, it equates to stalling the sharpest knife—Noel Agnes, Seventh Thrones, Master of the End of All Things.
The restraint keeping Them from going all out is him.
As long as he can still die, the Master of the End of All Things will never succeed.
As long as he retains consciousness, Xiao Na’s wager with him remains effective; she can still switch the Memory Clip and try again.
As long as he can act freely, whatever Noel’s plans, they cannot bypass the time of tracing back.
He had countless times propelled victory with his own death, stepping over his corpse towards success.
- But this time, what he ultimately needs to do isn’t any complicated operation, merely ensuring his survival, ensuring that his Death Rebound authority doesn’t fall into the hands of the Master of the End of All Things.
Until his companions, the ten billion brethren he knew or didn’t know, Luowasha’s hundreds of billions, the deities above the sky... pushed the energy value shown by the Pocket Watch to the limit.
He only needs to stall time to win.
In the center, the black-haired youth, gathering the world’s attention, remained peaceful.
He sensed the distance between him and the eleven High Dimensions, instantly shortening with this public announcement, as if They could reach him, the aquarium glass shattered in response.
"Su Ming’an, do you know?" Yuritilola smiled: "Originally, there was a thin barrier between me and Luowasha, limiting my strike. But once you exposed yourself like this, that thin barrier goes ’crack’, no longer able to offer you protection. I really look forward to this risky move, will it lead to your death, or will it make Noel’s brother and I dizzy, failing to catch you, culminating in defeat and escape."
Defying rules, no longer protected by rules.
Ink-colored giant waves rolled over the vault, the firmament draped as damp, lead-gray satin.
The reason for Yuritilola et al.’s hesitation proved not to be usurping the newborn Rin Clan, but rather inciting the Radiant Mother God, almost causing Su Ming’an’s dire situation.
If not for the "Eternal Dawn" skill, if not for Su Rin’s "soul" authority, if not for Su Ming’an’s quick-witted four item hints, if not for Su Ming’an’s long-summarized two major rules of Death Rebound... missing any of these, Su Ming’an might have been utterly controlled by the Radiant Mother God.
Without Su Ming’an’s restraint, High Dimensions will act recklessly, no one able to reverse time to trap the world.
"Are you here to drink tea? Or to watch? Or perhaps... um, punish me?" Su Ming’an smiled, prolonging the tone, showing no fear on his face.
Drizzling incessantly, the Gods chewed over his arrogance, yet the youth, accompanied by thunder, strode forward, Mother Tree branches beneath his feet automatically weaving into a bridge. He recalled each past moment—Noel singing loudly under the Gods’ gaze, even the sound smelling of freedom; Su Xiaobi leaping down from a motorcycle, humming London Bridge’s tune, heading towards the abyss-like world’s edge; Knights bowing beneath high walls, pure white soul birds soaring into the sky...
Countless light spots beside him, converging into cloak-like ripples.
Now, his figure overlapped with those past figures, when those people had long reached the end, he finally reached his own last.
He seemed to see countless shattered reflections of himself within the raindrops, each one meticulously crafted by death.
"Back then, you gave Noel a few warnings, saying to take him away once the instance was over. Now? What do you plan to do with me?" Su Ming’an spread his hands, his posture relaxed.
They did not speak.
Only the Boss Rabbit’s eyes flickered, with a playful smile: "Well, well, you know, dear, the situation now isn’t the same as before. Back then, it was because our intervention was limited, but now...!"
The statement was unfinished.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
A drop of rain fell to the ground from the ends of Su Ming’an’s hair. Its fall was quite ordinary, without any special feature.
Yet it felt as if someone blew a horn at this moment, someone incited the first whisper of wind.
Almost without time passing, before the Boss Rabbit could finish speaking, the still figures suddenly moved, as if sharing an unspoken agreement.
— Now, the most important thing is to capture Su Ming’an!
Other futile attempts to speak are just procrastination for Su Ming’an’s gain!
Flowers and gemstones erupted from the depths of the ground into an upside-down silver-white stream, and at that moment Su Ming’an saw—Yuritilola transformed into a princess with golden hair and a red dress, thousands of tempered flower leaves swept in with fairy-tale hues yet filled with intense murderous intent; Ghosts enveloped in thought fog and sensory rain let out a roar synchronized by thousands, inciting thick fog around Su Ming’an, transforming into a bloodthirsty maw; a giant skeletal god reached out a bone claw towards Su Ming’an’s forehead, its forest-white finger bones flowed with billions of particle collisions; the Spiritual Dream-Maker drew his sword decisively, frost spanned the earth, enveloping every corner, wanting to sink everything into a misty dream.
"Boom—!"
All the world-shattering chimes blasted at this moment, resonating deeply.
Time, space, thought, dream, death, eternal... vast concepts turned into causality, twirling into a scarlet knot.
The eternal representative, the master of death and end, the captor of thought and senses, the collector of all emotions, the wanderer of dreams, the reincarnation lord who sees Panggala return day after day, the pioneer of High Dimensions...
Countless lights and flames aimed at the youth atop the treetop, as if he had become the core of the world.
At this moment, the curtain of rain was sliced apart, causing an extended hiatus between up and down, half of the rainwater accumulated in the sky, pierced by a profound torrent, unable to fall for a long time, while half of the rain hit the ground, silently evaporating amidst the sudden burst of energy.
Su Ming’an even felt his drenched clothes dry at once, as his surroundings were entirely enveloped by varied powers, with his senses indulged in moist silk.
Cold murderous intent, friendly aid, cold-eyed observation, all simultaneously licking at his spine, lifting his head.
He could clearly see the Scepter forming in Theselotis’s palm at the Seventh Thrones, see the threads manipulated by the Master of Thought and Faith at the Eighth Thrones attempting to wrap around his wrist bones, see the particles of the Laplace Monster at the Ninth Thrones merging with his skin, see the gentle frosty hand blocking in front of him—
"Swish!"
Pure white tendrils suddenly burst forth like blooming flowers, Su Ming’an strained to widen his eyes, urging his entire Divine Power, resisting against the complex authorities and concepts, Energy madly surged into his body, his hair turned pale in an instant.
He stretched out his left hand, fully roaring "Theselotis Devouring Claw"! The crimson maw opened wide, attempting to devour the mixed vast spectrum of light!
A sound squeezing could only be heard with a beep and a pop.
"Boom."
In the next moment, amidst the collision of multiple forces, the Forest of Moonlight disappeared.
The expansive forest left only a desolate yellow earth. Moonlight Lake and the shrubs were nowhere to be seen.
Only the Elf Mother Tree still stood.
This was not due to its sufficient defense against Yuritilola’s attack, but merely because a purple-haired elf youth with moonlit eyes slowly lifted his head.
His eyes dazzling, his figure ethereal, starlight swirling in his palm.
— Fifth Thrones, Starfire.
The true bodies of the Organizers remain in the World Game, not fully stepping into Luowasha, but their intrusion levels vary. If Yuritilola’s intrusion level evolved from one foot to two feet, Starfire immediately entered with both feet.
Starfire waved a hand in his palm, and the barren land rapidly sprouted new buds, revitalizing life.
"Tap."
Su Ming’an, surrounded by blooming white tendrils, landed somewhat tumultuously, ensnared by flower leaves, thick fog, colorful gases, forest-white particles, frosty breath, his pupils occasionally gleaming gold, sometimes showing ink blue, sometimes turning into strange rainbow colors, without returning to the original black.
Standing as a Second-level God at the storm’s core, devoid of rule protection, even with the covert aid from the Spiritual Dream-Maker, even with the Devouring Claw blocking his chest, he struggled to ensure his own safety.
Under the destruction of various authorities, his figure kept tearing and reassembling, his arms and legs like broken blocks, bones and flesh scattered everywhere, piled up into a small mountain in an instant.
The passive "Life, Light and Peace" profession let his divine body constantly rebirth, only the heart and head remained intact.
He stood on his "meat mountain," stepping on his own flesh, the toe of his boot touching his own leg bone. Hundreds of his regenerating arms, thighs, calves accumulated into a mountain, some white bones buried beneath flesh, some pierced through, protruding like spikes, resembling a thorny grave mound bloomed with white roses.
Beneath his feet was his own bone and flesh grave mound.
Without the protection of rules, like an astronaut removing his protective suit directly facing a universe where humans cannot survive.
He struggled to maintain a human form, his body constantly on the brink of collapse, flesh flowed everywhere. The brain could barely handle such pain, pupils dilated.
"Hmph..."
Yuritilola flashed, seizing the opportunity as the seven-colored dreamy rainbow light surged forth, instantly attacking Su Ming’an!
Starfire couldn’t aid in time, the Eleventh Thrones restricted by essence unable to descend to Luowasha, most of the Spiritual Dream-Maker’s spiritual bodies in dreams, Aria remained indifferent.
The Boss Rabbit’s eyes flickered, furry paw raised slightly then gently lowered.
At this moment, all eyes gathered here froze for an instant, breath tightened, hearts nearly stopped.
"Cough!"
Su Ming’an coughed heavily.
How many hoped he would live, and how many hoped he would die.
He gazed at the multicolored rainbow suspended like a waterfall, in a critical moment, his Adam’s apple slightly moved, swallowing a colorful object rapidly.
This item looked like a colorful candy, sweet and delectable.
...
["...Wait a moment."]
[Su Ming’an suddenly extended his hand: "Give me the Shitposter Demon Divinity in your pocket."]
[Lü Shu, without hesitation, handed it over.]
[Then, in Lü Shu’s palm, he placed a cold Abyss Divinity.]
...
—Su Ming’an had long prepared this trump card for himself.
He exchanged the Abyss God Divinity with Lü Shu because it suited Lü Shu better, while the Shitposter Demon’s Divinity was dangerously unruly, to swallow was to die.
Lü Shu thought Su Ming’an would give the Shitposter Demon Divinity to a more fitting person, like Yamada Machiichi or Eni. Though they might not fully match, they had a certain receptivity, they laughed, they jested, they were open-hearted.
After all, how would someone like Su Ming’an be suitable for the Shitposter Demon Divinity? He would surely encounter trouble swallowing it.
...
[Looking at the blood on Lü Shu’s mask, Noel slowly said: "Lü Shu seems unable to hold on."]
[The Master of the End of All Things said: "Of course he can’t hold on. He is totally incompatible with Kasadia, amusement and laughter never fit him, his life is too bitter, he probably never smiles."]
...
However, Su Ming’an knew, Yamada Machiichi was not even a deity, forcibly swallowing a divinity, the risk of death was extremely high. The best destination for this divinity was as Second-level God Su Ming’an’s desperate trump card, even though its compatibility with him was nearly zero.
Yes, he had been plotting for a long time.
He saw the dawn nearby, saw the ark about to set sail, saw the sunrise in the small world shining brightly.
As long as he survived the coming period, throw the World Master identity to anyone, this world would no longer need him.
His life was already complete, without regrets.
And the strength brought by the Shitposter Demon Divinity, even if not compatible, was enough to let him endure this last period.
"Hurrah—"
A crisp sound, the seven-colored divinity bloomed within him, a dazzling, brilliant, strong seven-colored radiance suddenly erupted from his body.
His momentum climbed steadily, rising from a Second-level God to nearly the threshold of a First Level God.
His body no longer broke repeatedly, becoming complete and clear,
His pupils fixed on a golden seven-colored, pale cheeks stained with a layer of magnificently illusory light.
Layers of colored light from the boots started spreading up to the calves, thighs, chest and abdomen, neck... the robe turned into a colorful dream, indistinguishable if specific fabric or illusionary silk, swaying and dancing freely on his slender physique.
The tentacles behind him remained pure white like snow, resembling a white Ophelia.
A mask painted with various thick pigments gradually formed on the cheeks, golden high-saturation oil paint dotting the eyes, bright red oil paint highly arching the corners of the mouth, presenting a highly flamboyant joyful curve.
The laughing mask completely covered his expression, along with blood flowing down his skin.
"..." Yuritilola’s pupils slightly shook. And Starfire revealed a vague sadness, like seeing a choice similar to a past acquaintance. The Boss Rabbit’s ears hung down, unmoving.
The meeting screen had already shattered, thirty-seven top players could not see what happened here. Spectators outside the screen saw clearly, but their hands could only touch the cold glass.
Spiritual Dream-Maker softly called:
"Su Ming’an..."
He wore a mask, as if laughing.
A scythe stained with seven-colored oil paint, held in his palm.
The drizzling rain soaked the soil beneath his feet, the colorful silk on him swaying like a dreamy illusion, spotless.
He raised the scythe towards the gods, the tip pointing forward, shining in seven colors.
With just one cut, he broke through the attacking rays.
On the seven-colored mask, the bright red oil painted lips arch high, to an extreme degree.
They once tried their utmost to kill him, control him.
Meddling, infiltrating, invading, beguiling, probing, attacking... from the World Game beginning till now, from the first instance to the eleventh instance, time and again targeted, time and again with malice. They even maliciously bet with authorities, maliciously increased instance difficulty, maliciously guided other players to hunt him, maliciously split him and his brethren’s life essence...
—Yet never extinguished the flame of defiance in youth’s hand.
The storm couldn’t shatter ideals.
The shadow built from thousands of deaths behind him revealed a monument-like outline in the pouring rain.
...
"Ding dong!"
[Congratulations, Player (Su Ming’an)!]
[You have advanced from "Second-level God" to "First Level God," entering the final sublimation form of player life essence.]
...
In the distance, a blonde figure stood on the hillside.
The youth’s pocket held a piano music box, a square mirror hanging from his chest.
He silently gazed at the distance, slowly raised his palm, used fingers to pull up the corners of the mouth, little by little pulling muscles until presenting an exaggerated joyful curvature, like an identical clown mask.
Then, he adjusted the angle, aimed the mirror at himself, steadied the crimson brim, lifted the Blue Rose Scepter, began to hum a song, striding towards where the gaze of all living beings converged:
"[Oh, pale Ophelia, beautiful as snow!♪]"
"[Yes, child, you have been buried in the turbulent river!♪]"
...
