Chapter 43 Part 1

Xia Xifeng bounded over to Qin Lang in three long strides and found both Eigg and Taylor wearing thoroughly dumbfounded expressions.

He waved a hand in front of their faces. “What’s wrong? Did the Evil God Projection fire off some ultimate attack before dying that rattled your brains?”

Taylor snapped out of it first and muttered, “A million? There are that many Demigods out there?”

“Huh? What Demigods? What million?” Xia Xifeng turned to look at Qin Lang.

Qin Lang’s eyes were perfectly placid and innocent, the very picture of someone who had nothing to do with anything.

One look at that face and Xia Xifeng knew exactly whose pot this mess was.

“Hey, what did you say?” Xia Xifeng poked Qin Lang’s shoulder with his staff.

Qin Lang said, “He asked how many people outside could kill a god’s projection.”

Xia Xifeng’s brain had to stutter for a second before it could connect that question with the answer: “one million.”

Just before he and Qin Lang had crossed over, Fantasy Realms had issued an incredibly boastful celebratory announcement.

Other games celebrated reaching one million peak concurrent players. It celebrated minimum concurrent players breaking the one million mark.

For a game that had become a global phenomenon, this number wasn’t all that shocking.

Popular single-server mobile gacha games or co-op single-player titles could easily hit the millions mark during major events.

A truly successful, popular MMO would easily surpass ten million peak concurrent players per regional server (like the Chinese, American, or European servers).

Nowadays, personal computers were ubiquitous. With Fantasy Realms’s servers covering the entire globe and the total data aggregated across all time zones—one zone sleeps, another grinds—by the time the game reached its grand finale, a minimum peak above one million was effortless.

Xia Xifeng had initially intended to clarify: a million players didn’t equate to a million max-level players.

But then he reconsidered: that one million minimum didn’t account for all currently online players, either. The number of max-level players was definitely far higher. And players below the level cap could still clear god-projection dungeons.

Then he reconsidered again and realized he’d been led off track by Qin Lang. What did the number of people outside this dungeon who could slay gods have to do with players?! The guy wasn’t asking about the game!

Xia Xifeng eyed him suspiciously. “Qin Lang, you’re messing with them on purpose, aren’t you?”

Qin Lang: “No.”

Xia Xifeng jabbed Qin Lang’s shoulder far harder with the staff. “You totally are!”

Most of the time, Qin Lang preferred playing the stone-faced stoic. But an expressionless face didn’t mean an emotionless heart. This guy definitely had a mischievous streak at times.

Whenever Qin Lang was in a good enough mood, he’d switch on that overly sharp brain of his—usually so rarely deployed—and use it to deliberately confuse and mess with the people around him. Most of the time, the victim was Xia Xifeng.

“He’s just pulling your leg,” Xia Xifeng grumbled. “Though, strictly speaking, he didn’t lie. Out there, it’s all-out divine war. Evil God minions and Evil God projections are everywhere. You don’t need to be a Demigod to slay a god.”

Searching his memory for game lore, Xia Xifeng rattled off a few examples of non-Demigod NPCs fighting against Evil God minions during the Apocalypse.

Though, he had to admit, those examples were profoundly tragic. They couldn’t exactly be called “casually slaying gods.”

“Leo sealing Perila probably counts too?” Xia Xifeng offered Leo’s case as an example.

Leo hadn’t just not been a Demigod—he had even died once. Yet in a state that was essentially half-dead, he had still managed to foil an Evil God’s scheme.

“You probably don’t know them,” Xia Xifeng added, remembering that Leo had already erased both himself and Perila from “history.”

“We know them. Leo? Isn’t that the kid from Sunflower Valley? He’s Lord Amuruo’s disciple. Got beaten up by Lord Amuruo all the time. Slippery little weasel. Nothing like a Halfling.”

After the battle ended, both the Elven fighters and the Resistance fighters had started gathering around. One of the Resistance soldiers, overhearing Xia Xifeng’s words, chimed in.

Everyone turned to look at the speaker.

When Xia Xifeng saw the man’s face, he nearly leaped out of his skin in shock.

It was the very first person Qin Lang and he had recognized: the previous Blackstone Town Lord, father of the current Lord.

Patting his still-pounding heart, Xia Xifeng said in astonishment, “You remember him?”

The burly man thought for a moment, then nodded. “That Leo who was always brawling with Perila? Yeah, I remember him.”

Xia Xifeng couldn’t believe it.

Qin Lang said, “It’s probably an effect from the last dungeon.”

Xia Xifeng’s eyes slowly widened.

Was this dungeon set in the same parallel timeline as the last? Or… after they’d freed Leo and Perila’s souls, did the effect propagate across all parallel timelines?

“Yeah, that’s him.” Xia Xifeng sniffed hard, holding back the stinging in his eyes.

The Blood Moon’s influence hadn’t fully dissipated from this space yet, and the system still hadn’t announced the quest’s completion.

Everyone who’d finished fighting stood around in a daze, uncertain what might still await them.

Xia Xifeng checked his system interface.

The system was displaying a countdown.

【8 hours until dungeon closure. Players are advised to rest and regroup before entering the next dungeon.】

A linked dungeon chain this time, huh?

The previous Blackstone Town Lord was the last to join the group.

Everyone immediately bombarded him with questions about the outside world. Even the Elven warriors’ long ears twitched subtly as they pretended to listen in while not listening in.

Xia Xifeng told Taylor and Eigg the news that this dream was about to end.

Where would they go after it ended?

Would they enter the embrace of a deity that had not yet fallen? Or would they simply dissipate like scattered ash?

Right now, no one knew their fate. They could only wait passively.

But no matter what, it was better than the cycle resetting.

Eigg murmured again, barely audible, “It’s over… it’s really over?”

Xia Xifeng said, “Actually, I don’t think it’s over yet. There might be another fight waiting for us. So, for now…”

Taylor echoed, “For now…?”

Eigg looked at Xia Xifeng.

Xia Xifeng clapped his palms together. “Let’s throw a victory banquet!”

Taylor nearly stumbled. Eigg’s mouth fell slightly open.

Beaming, Xia Xifeng said, “No matter what happens eight hours from now, right now, we just won! It’s been a long time since any of you could just eat, drink, and be merry without a care, right? Who cares about later? Celebrate first!”

Taylor laughed despite himself. “Are you secretly a Halfling? Grabbing any excuse to throw a party? Everything in this dream is an illusion. Where exactly are we supposed to find the supplies for a banquet?”

Internally, Qin Lang nodded. Yep, Xia Xifeng is definitely just an oversized Halfling.

Xia Xifeng thumped his chest. “I’ve got supplies. Didn’t you all just eat the snacks I brought out earlier?”

Taylor recalled that Xia Xifeng had indeed piled a small table high with pastries and drinks earlier, and that he had actually tried some.

Xia Xifeng added, “Besides, if you could drink potions, then you can definitely eat other food too.”

Taylor didn’t remember drinking any potions. Could it have been mixed into those drinks?

The potions Xia Xifeng had given Taylor had, of course, been applied directly from his status interface.

When Taylor and Eigg had joined the battle, they’d been automatically added to his party screen.

And it wasn’t just them. Every single Elven warrior and Resistance fighter had appeared on the raid list.

Xia Xifeng had spent the latter half of that fight doing nothing but frantically rebuffing, his eyes nearly crossing from the strain. He hadn’t even had time to harass the Blood Moon Projection anymore.

Both Taylor and Eigg had felt someone layering beneficial status effects onto them while cleansing the negative ones. They’d also guessed that someone was Xia Xifeng.

They’d just assumed Xia Xifeng was a Cleric, not realizing he was wielding the Power of Money.

“You seriously brought enough food to feed a banquet?” Taylor couldn’t quite believe it.

“Absolutely enough!” Xia Xifeng thumped his chest again.

When entering a parallel-world dungeon, the system had ported every single item from every alt account he had. Stacked food and materials in his inventory started at 999 and went up from there. Did they think he was some kind of casual? He was a day-one, continuous-login-still-going veteran player!

Actually, even ignoring Xia Xifeng’s own “gamer hoard storage,” just the food Mr. Suer had stuffed into their packs when they left the Starter Village was easily enough to throw banquets for a full month straight.

“Alright, clear an open area! Banquet time!” Xia Xifeng pulled a brass gong from his backpack and struck it hard.

It was a small novelty item from a Spring Festival event. This was a Chinese game, damn it—even if the setting was Western fantasy, come Spring Festival, they’d damn well find an excuse to run a themed event!

The warriors gathered around, brimming with curiosity.

The two opposing commanders sheathed their weapons and stood silently on the outer edges.

They’d been shoved aside.

Sure, they were commanders. But the battle was over. The fighters, finally freed from the endless cycle, were clearly far more interested in a party.

“Back in the day, did your warriors ignore your orders too?” Taylor mocked.

No matter what taunt Taylor threw, Eigg simply couldn’t be bothered to respond.

Xia Xifeng was just as puzzled.

The Resistance soldiers and the Elven warriors had brutally slaughtered each other countless times throughout this cycle. Even accounting for the Blood Moon’s involvement, the fact that both groups were now acting so remarkably calm was utterly baffling.

And yet… that was exactly how reality was.

As Xia Xifeng kept pulling out mountains of food and drink, the two groups—initially so cold and wary of one another—began seamlessly coordinating without even realizing it.

They cleared a space, hauled tables and chairs out of the now-abandoned houses, and hunted down flowers, ribbons, and decorations to adorn the venue.

When it came to decorating, they even started arguing.

The Resistance soldiers eventually caved, ceding the decorative work entirely to the more aesthetically-inclined Elven warriors.

They lit roaring bonfires, set up grills, and practically begged Xia Xifeng to bring out uncooked ingredients.

A proper banquet meant cooking your own meat over the open fire, damn it!

So Xia Xifeng brought out vast quantities of fresh meats, vegetables, and countless seasonings.

Back in his player days, he had ventured to every corner of the game world and collected cuisine from every race.

Taylor’s descendants were scattered among the Resistance fighters.

They eagerly told those who’d been trapped in the cycle since ancient times about the changes in their own eras. The “youngest” of them, the former Blackstone Town Lord, proved to be the most popular storyteller.

The former Lord recognized most of the food Xia Xifeng had set out.

Acting as Xia Xifeng’s proxy, he introduced the history and origins of these delicacies to his ancient ancestors.

The Elven warriors munched on later-era Elven specialty foods, grumbling about how “inauthentic” they tasted… all while eating with obvious, undisguised relish.

Slowly, smiles began to dawn on their faces.

Watching this scene from afar, the shadows on Eigg’s face only seemed to deepen.

Taylor, meanwhile, had already gleefully thrown himself into the happy crowd.

He strolled over to Eigg, dinner plate in hand. “Elven specialty food, from a future era. Have a bite?”

Though still not giving Taylor any friendly face, Eigg accepted a fork and tasted a smoked meat roll.

The flavor was vastly different from the smoked rolls he remembered. Yet, undeniably, it was more delicious.

So much time had passed out in the world. Even Elven cuisine had evolved.

Eigg lifted his head again, his gaze sweeping over his slightly-tipsy subordinates.

The number of Elven warriors who could hold their alcohol wasn’t even one percent of those he commanded.

And it was the same for Taylor’s faction.

Whether Resistance fighters or the later-arriving descendants of Taylor, most had already collapsed mentally during the ceaseless cycle, absorbed and consumed by the Evil God, twisted into who-knows-what pitiful forms.

The souls that still remained, still capable of existing as “people,” barely numbered over a hundred across both enemy camps combined.

Eigg couldn’t fathom how Taylor could still maintain that carefree, untroubled smile.

Even more, he couldn’t fathom his own heart—so filled with despair—yet somehow having “lived” on until now, refusing to be fully corrupted by the Evil God, even managing to raise his sword against that god in the end.

“Isn’t the food and drink that follows despair always the most delicious?” Taylor said, gazing into the flickering bonfire. “Lord Xia said that in a few hours, we’ll be moving on to the next battlefield. Who knows what kind of enemy we’ll face there.”