Chapter 115 – Final Chapter · The Vast Sea

The entire world was collapsing.

The ground trembled, and the crescent moon, which was supposed to never set, burned as it fell toward the western horizon.

Starting from the edge of the continent, the land crumbled, turning into countless wisps of black ash, becoming an abyss of void.

The barrier of the Great Prophecy protected the hall at the center of The Swamp. Lin Wei’s Bone Dragon collided with another Bone Dragon, its skeletal wings shattering. He leaped up, his crystal sword gleaming with cold light, carrying the aura of another world, and cleaved through the neck of the Giant Dragon.

After that fatal strike, he plummeted downward, only to be caught by a black-robed Lich that swooped in with a flap of its wings. They spun through the air, and a fierce wave of dark magic swept out, clearing a zone. Seizing the opportunity, Lin Wei subdued several Bone Dragons in the sea of undead, commanding them to spew Dragon Breath, scorching a large swath of their undead companions.

Bones surged like waves in the tide, coming from the ground and the sky. The faintly burning soul fires resembled glowing lights floating in a gray-white sea. Only in this hall was there a prolonged and intense slaughter, as two people held up an island amidst the storm.

By the time the crystal sword was riddled with cracks and the Lich’s pale bone spear was covered in fine fractures, they stood back-to-back at the center above the hall, their clothes fluttering in the fierce wind.

The undead watched as wave after wave of their companions fell. Even their long-numbed hearts felt a primal fear when they looked up at the two figures in the sky.

Lin Wei wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked at the sea of bones and curled his lips into a faint smile.

This blood-stained smile carried a hint of mischievous malice, reminiscent of the Duke’s smile on the battlefield in that other timeline, but it was much more relaxed and carefree.

At this moment, behind him was not the Imperial Corps that needed to be commanded and protected, nor the territory of the Flaming Rose, but finally, someone who fought alongside him, bound by the highest-level contract.

At this moment, the last traces of gloom, weariness, and exhaustion in his heart completely dissipated, never to return.

The book that spoke of the contract had these words embossed in gold on its title page:

“You must be strong, fearless.

Though there is darkness, it will be like the morning.”

The burning crescent moon continued to sink westward, the land continued to crumble, and the undead of the entire world gathered toward the center, as if gray-white flowers were blooming on the black earth.

At the center of those flowers, the battle continued, souls scattering and drifting away, returning to the boundless Sea of Stars.

Until the end of the long night, a vast and mighty force rose from the Goddess’s dwelling hall.

That power was so grand that every soul before it became a mere speck of dust.

The silver-robed Bard stood outside the door, which had now transformed into something solemn, magnificent, and silent.

He turned and smiled at the two who walked through the door: “The continent is calling for you.”

The abundant Dark Element, like a child finding its long-lost mother, surged forward, rushing through the door and returning to the continent.

“We can’t leave the souls here. If they disappear with the world, the Sea of Stars will forever lose a part of itself,” Lin Wei said, looking at the Door of Time and Space.

The Bard replied, “So, you two take the Goddess and leave first.”

“And you?”

“I’ll stay here,” he said with a warm smile. “I’ll hold them off. Hopefully, by the time I can’t hold on any longer, the Empire and the Magic World will be fully prepared for war.”

Lin Wei was stunned and looked at him: “You have to come back.”

“Of course,” the Bard said, kissing his forehead. Then he turned and walked out the door, his ethereal silver-blue figure disappearing into the sea of undead.

The Lich picked up the still-sleeping elf, whose youthful face was as serene as a maiden’s.

They stepped through the door and found themselves in a vast silver-blue space. Beneath their feet, something flowed slowly, shimmering with a mysterious and profound light like snow.

Looking up, the sky was filled with star-like points of light, crisscrossing, swirling, and shifting.

This was time, a rule that only one person since the birth of the continent had ever touched, the highest of the high.

On the river of light, a bridge was built between the two banks of time and space.

Once they stepped through that door, they returned to their origin.

Whether it was because the concept of day and night had been lost in the Realm of the Undead or because the bridge that connected time had traversed a stretch of time itself, when they arrived, it was spring in the Imperial Capital.

The paths beside the fields in the suburbs were blooming with small white and pale yellow flowers, and the city streets were lined with the faint fragrance of snowdrops and violets.

Lin Wei took a white flower wreath from a little girl selling flowers by the street and placed it on the elf’s head.

The usually quiet elf peeked at her reflection in the fountain pool, a faint smile touching the corners of her eyes.

They entrusted the elf to the care of the gentle Duchess, then parted ways—one heading to the Imperial Palace, the other to the Magic Association—to begin preparations for the war with the Realm of the Undead.

That night, the Lich returned to the Imperial Capital. In Tidis’s castle, he saw the Summoner sitting idly on the wide windowsill, seemingly stargazing, his long, straight legs swinging unconsciously.

The servants occasionally glanced up nervously, afraid that their pampered Young Duke, who had finally returned, might accidentally fall.

He saw Duan Yu’s figure by the moon and waved. The Lich’s wings spread, and he landed beside him.

This nearly gave the guards a heart attack, but the Chief Guard stopped them.

He frowned, “That person just now, wasn’t he…”

Among the servants, an older maid who had the privilege of cleaning the Young Duke’s room also showed a puzzled expression: “Wasn’t that… the one in the Young Master’s…”

In the crystal coffin lay the still-slumbering white-robed Mage.

Lin Wei pulled Duan Yu to the coffin and opened the lid.

The Lich’s figure became transparent and sank into the coffin.

The dark golden eyes slowly opened, as time and the past settled like dust.

“Those poets who constantly praise beautiful sights must have never seen your eyes,” Lin Wei murmured, gently touching his brow.

The one who had been sleeping finally fully awakened.

Lin Wei pulled him to the bed, held him for a while, then let go and said, “I want the Lich.”

In most cases, the Mage would satisfy this guy’s reasonable or unreasonable requests.

Black mist swirled around his body, and moments later, the Lich’s figure appeared.

Lin Wei buried his head in the Lich’s chest and laughed.

After a while, for some reason, he became dissatisfied again.

“You’re too cold,” he said matter-of-factly. “Change back.”

Duan Yu had no choice but to switch forms again.

Lin Wei was still laughing, his eyes curving as he casually picked up the wine glass by the bed and took a sip.

The taste of Abel’s juice mixed with the wine made Duan Yu frown in displeasure.

He took the glass from Lin Wei’s hand.

“Why are you drinking this?”

Lin Wei blinked guiltily: “At first, I couldn’t sleep, so I used this… and then I couldn’t stop.”

He looked at Duan Yu cautiously: “Give it back… I feel terrible.”

Duan Yu, under the gaze of those moist eyes, felt the glass in his hand emit a bewitching aura.

Only then did he remember that for him, the past six months had been but a moment of slumber and forgetting, but for the other, it had been a long wait and torment.

Still, he didn’t return the glass but instead prepared to pour it out.

Lin Wei wrapped himself in the blanket, anxiously thrashing a few times, then poked his head out, softening his voice: “You take a sip, just one, it won’t get you addicted.”

The silver cup touched his lips, and the brief illusion made the Mage close his eyes. Lin Wei watched his profile, feeling the anxiety in his heart grow harder to suppress.

“What do you see?” he asked.

Without waiting for Duan Yu to answer, he said earnestly, “It’s me—it’s me, right?”

He wrapped his arms around Duan Yu, his voice low and seductive, whispering in his ear: “Every time, it’s you. What I see is always you. Now that you’re here, quitting won’t be so hard…”

Taking advantage of the Mage’s momentary distraction upon hearing “it’s always you,” he quickly grabbed the glass and downed its contents.

Then, he pressed Duan Yu’s shoulders and kissed him.

The illusion exploded like fireworks, bringing a brief dizziness, and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was.

He borrowed the courage from the strong wine and the distraction from Abel’s juice, a hint of indulgence in his smile as he pulled Duan Yu down onto the bed, sinking into the soft pillows and blankets.

As consciousness gradually returned, they parted, then drew closer again.

Then, starting from the earlobe, teeth gently bit at the neck, and the soft tongue lightly licked and kissed.

Lin Wei felt the slightly unsteady breath of the person above him.

He looked up and saw that, whether it was due to the light or the wine, the usually delicate and indifferent face now carried a touch of cold beauty, with his own reflection in those eyes. All it took was a hint of tenderness in those depths—and it became a breathtaking sight.

He felt himself being tempted, with nowhere to escape, so he simply closed his eyes and undid the first light silver button at his collar.

“Come here…” He gently touched the person’s cheek with his lips, his fingers threading through the cool, soft hair. “I’ll teach you.”

The candles on the silver candlestick burned down to their ends, the light shifting from bright to hazy, the breaths turning into low, suppressed moans, carrying a hint of a breaking sob.

Lin Wei trembled lightly, clinging to the person’s shoulders, his forehead resting against their shoulder.

—I long for you, as the deer longs for the stream.

This year passed quickly.

The Dark Element returned, The Holy Kingdom vanished, and the continent resumed its normal order.

The only thing that puzzled the people was why, despite the absence of any external threats, the Empire had entered its highest state of war readiness, with troops dispatched to the west, including Mages.

It wasn’t until half a year later that a grand war began.

The war lasted nearly a hundred days, and people called it the “Hundred Days’ War.”

Some also referred to it as the “War of Dawn.”

Years later, veterans would recount that it was the most memorable moment of their lives, the most formidable and terrifying enemy they had ever faced in their military careers.

This battle was both extremely brutal and glorious.

Many names were inscribed in the annals, shining brightly through the river of time.

Among them, the most mysterious and noteworthy was the actual leader of the Imperial Corps at the time, Lin Wei Tidis, known to the world as the Violet Duke.

Legend had it that he was extremely young, handsome, intelligent, and ruthless.

Unfortunately, after the war, the Duke disappeared without a trace, leaving many generals and soldiers to sigh in regret.

There were also legends that the Duke was deeply connected to magic. They even found a Summoner in the magical records who was mentioned alongside the leader of the Magic World of that era. Comparing the descriptions, they speculated that the two might have been the same person.

At dusk, the slanting rays of the setting sun reflected off the river, casting a golden glow.

The bustle at the dock gradually subsided as ships returned to port, with only one or two passing leisurely, their reflections rippling in the water.

A large ship sailed down the wide canal.

Lin Wei stood on the deck, looking ahead, with Jerald perched on his shoulder.

Passing by Hercor Harbor, the ship left the Imperial Capital, leaving behind the turbulent years of war. Ahead lay vast tranquility and the lofty sky.

He coughed lightly in the evening breeze.

The golden-haired Mage beside him shifted slightly, blocking the cool wind: “Shall we go back to the cabin?”

“Let’s watch a little longer,” he said, gazing at the burning sunset on the orange-gold horizon. “Do you think Adrishig will come back?”

Duan Yu replied, “As long as he’s alive, he’ll come back to see this place one day.”

“Mm, he couldn’t bear not to,” Lin Wei said, a faint smile in his eyes. “The rich and calm elements, the increasing magical talents, and the revised ‘The Contract’… Magic is about to enter a glorious era. Before I left, Bolan said he wanted to strengthen the connection with the Magic World even more.”

“The Magic Association has decided to abandon the permanent resurrection of the Holy Spear and no longer attempt to revive the knightly civilization,” Duan Yu said.

“That’s how it should be—knights don’t hold much significance in a single-species era, and the power of the Holy Spear would only invite covetousness. If it were resurrected, we might end up with another Goddess of Light… Our beliefs and bodies are free, and we shouldn’t have deities interfering,” he said with a relaxed tone, then added, “So, your soul will return to the Sea of Stars in the future, instead of being passed on?”

“Mm.”

Lin Wei smiled, gazing at the Mage’s profile in the slanting light, unable to look away.

So, when we die, our souls will wash away memories, shed their marks, and become scattered fragments, returning to the vast Sea of Stars, reuniting with other fragments, and being reborn anew.

If, in the future, two souls happen to each carry a part of what was once mine and yours, and they meet on the street, they might think as they pass by: I feel like I’ve seen this person somewhere before.

Just thinking of that scene makes me happy. I love you.