Chapter 99 - A Bitter Ending

The battlefield, once a storm of energy and chaos, fell into a heavy silence. The air, thick with residual power, pulsed as if unwilling to accept the sudden end of the struggle. Lord Varek’s form lay motionless, his body finally succumbing to the overwhelming force of the combined assault of his enemies. His fingers, which had once clutched the cube, slackened, and the containment device slipped from his grasp.

As it fell, the cube still radiated an intense heat, its surface glowing an eerie molten red from the sheer magnitude of divine energy it had absorbed. Yet, even as it tumbled toward the ground, the searing glow began to fade, stabilizing as the energy within was slowly controlled. It struck the dirt with a heavy thud, a stark contrast to the cataclysmic power it had once held only moments ago.

Park Zhen wasted no time. His body moved instinctively, darting forward and snatching the cube from the ground before anything—or anyone—could interfere. He turned it over in his hands, his sharp gaze scanning the surface as he pressed a small, hidden mechanism on its side. The cube responded immediately, its edges folding in on themselves, compressing into a more compact form that fit neatly within his palm. The sight of it, secure at last, made his breath hitch.

Jianfeng stood beside him, hands braced against his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. Both men were exhausted—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. The weight of their centuries-long struggle had culminated in this moment, and now, standing over the unconscious body of Lord Varek, reality struck them harder than any physical blow could. It was over. They had won.

Or so they thought.

Without hesitation, Park Zhen turned to face the fallen warlord. His face, usually unreadable, contorted into an expression of raw, unfiltered resolution. He raised his hand, Ki surging around his palm, and took a single step forward. His target lay defenseless before him… One strike. That was all it would take to finally put an end to this nightmare.

But just as his hand shot forward, a blur of movement intercepted his path.

Drake.

The blond boy appeared in front of him in an instant, stepping directly between Park Zhen and the unconscious Lord Varek. His hand raised—not in an attack, but as a silent command to stop.

Park Zhen froze, his attack halted mere inches from Drake’s outstretched hand. The force of his momentum sent a gust of air billowing around them, but the strike never landed. His eyes, filled with determination, locked onto boy’s calm yet unwavering gaze.

“Move!”

Park Zhen demanded, his voice edged with barely contained anger. However, Drake didn’t budge. His stance was relaxed, yet there was an undeniable weight to his presence. The unshakable conviction in his expression unsettled Park Zhen far more than any blade ever could.

Jianfeng, equally stunned, stepped forward.

“Boy, what are you doing?”

He asked, confusion laced in his voice.

“We have the chance to end this. You know what he did. You saw what he’s capable of.”

Drake exhaled slowly, his shoulders rising and falling as if preparing himself for the conversation that was about to unfold. He met their gazes, his own firm but without hostility.

“I know.”

Drake said calmly.

“And I’m not saying you shouldn’t want to end this. But…”

He glanced down at Lord Varek’s unconscious form before returning his attention to them.

“Before you do anything, there’s something you need to know.”

Park Zhen’s patience was razor-thin.

“There’s nothing to know, he is a traitor, a monster. If we leave him alive, he will do it all over again.”

He shot back. Drake let out a slow sigh, his fingers tightening slightly before he spoke.

“I do understand, but this isn’t about what I think. This is about what the Immortal Emperor wants.”

At the mention of that name, both Park Zhen and Jianfeng stiffened. Their expressions faltered for the first time since the battle began.

Drake continued, his voice steady.

“Han Zhenwu… the spirit of the Immortal Emperor himself, told me not to be too harsh on him.”

For a moment, neither Park Zhen nor Jianfeng reacted. The words hung in the air like a hammer waiting to drop. It was Park Zhen who finally spoke, his voice dangerously quiet.

“What… did you just say?”

Drake glanced between them, his gaze unwavering.

“Han Zhenwu appeared to me, and he asked me to show restraint when it came to him.”

He motioned toward the fallen Lord Varek.

“Specifically, he told me to tell you—”

Drake looked directly at Park Zhen,

“—not to be too hard on ‘Little Void.’”

Silence… Jianfeng’s breath hitched. His entire body stiffened, his face paling as if he had just seen a ghost. His lips parted, but the words caught in his throat.

Park Zhen, usually composed even in the most extreme situations, was visibly shaken. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His eyes darted between Drake and the unconscious Lord Varek as if trying to piece together something that didn’t make sense. Jianfeng was the first to recover enough to stammer out a response.

“Where… Where did you hear that name?”

His voice was hoarse, as if dredging up something buried deep within him. Drake simply repeated himself.

“That’s what Han Zhenwu called him.”

He crossed his arms.

“I don’t know why the Emperor is protecting him, but that was his will.”

The disbelief in their faces was palpable. Neither Park Zhen nor Jianfeng spoke, but it was clear that their entire perception of the situation had just been upended. They wanted to deny it, to refuse to believe that their Emperor—the man they had fought for, the man who had shaped their very ideals—would ask for mercy on behalf of their greatest enemy.

But something inside them wouldn’t let them dismiss Drake’s words outright. Something in them knew that he was telling the truth.

As the weight of it all settled over them, a new window appeared before Drake’s eyes.

[The title ‘Savior of Murim’ has been activated.] [The user possesses a strong influence over characters in scenarios related to ‘Sword and Shadow: The Echo of Treachery’.]

Drake’s eyes scanned the system notification once more before exhaling deeply. The title’s effect was clear—he had an undeniable influence over the situation, and at that moment, he was grateful for it. Park Zhen and Jianfeng hesitated, their hands clenched into tight fists, their bodies frozen in place as conflicting emotions warred within them.

Drake knew that letting Lord Varek live was a mistake. Every rational thought in his mind screamed that this was the one opportunity they had to end him permanently. He didn’t know that he had massacred his allies before and that, without his intervention, he would have done it again. But he was certain that he was insanely strong after crossing punches with him... There was no logical reason to spare him.

And yet, Drake couldn’t ignore the Emperor’s final will. Han Zhenwu himself had asked that they show mercy to the man once known as "Little Void". Could he really disregard that request? The Emperor had given him the strength to fight, to win. Would killing Lord Varek now be a betrayal of that?

The tension in the air was suffocating. Neither Park Zhen nor Jianfeng moved.

Then, without warning, a brilliant flash of light erupted nearby, illuminating the battlefield like a second sun for a brief moment. Everyone instinctively turned toward the source, only to find a group of figures emerging from the glow.

Kazue, Katya, Gregor, Chloe, Sebastian, and Kurayami the tiger materialized, all looking worse for wear.

The scene was a chaotic mess. Kazue stood at the front, her breath ragged, her eyes wet with unshed tears. Her hands were completely mangled—skin torn, bones visibly dislocated, fingers twisted unnaturally. And yet, for some reason, an acupuncture needle protruded from her forehead. She was trembling, though whether from pain or exhaustion was unclear.

Behind her, Gregor and Katya were unconscious, their limp forms supported by Chloe, who was frantically working to stabilize them. Her face was drenched in sweat, her normally cheerful expression nowhere to be seen. Her hands moved rapidly, inserting Ki-infused needles into their bodies, her breaths sharp and panicked.

Sebastian, kneeling beside her, did his best to assist. Though his old hands weren’t as steady as they once were, he moved with practiced care, aiding Chloe in whatever way he could.

Kurayami lay sprawled on the ground, his massive form unmoving. Though the tiger was still alive, he did not attempt to rise, his breathing slow and heavy. The once-majestic creature looked utterly drained, his fur singed in places, faint remnants of electrical energy crackling weakly around him.

Then, despite the devastation, Kazue inhaled sharply, filling her lungs to their limit.

With an almost triumphant energy, she threw her broken arms into the air and screamed:

“We won!!”

The moment the words left her lips, she immediately regretted it. A sharp, unbearable jolt of pain shot through her mangled hands, forcing her to yank them back down with a barely contained whimper. The needle Chloe had placed in her forehead was supposed to dull the pain, but it could only do so much. The level of damage her hands had sustained was beyond simple mitigation. Every pulse of her heartbeat sent another wave of agony coursing through her arms.

Despite her obvious suffering, her victorious cry caught everyone’s attention.

All eyes turned toward her, a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and exhaustion on their faces.

Kazue, barely holding herself together, lifted her head. The first thing she saw was Drake, standing alongside Park Zhen and Jianfeng, right next to the unconscious body of Lord Varek.

The sight was clear for her. They were going to kill him… She didn’t think, she just moved.

“Waaaaait!!”

Kazue dashed toward them, her movements erratic, almost cartoonish. The sheer absurdity of the sight was impossible to ignore—her arms flopped uselessly at her sides, her fingers bent at unnatural angles, her face twisted with both determination and pain as she forced her battered body to move forward.

Drake, Park Zhen, and Jianfeng could only watch in stunned silence as she staggered toward them, gasping from both exhaustion and injury.

By the time she reached them, she could barely stand upright. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. She was exhausted beyond belief, her body screaming at her to stop.

But she wasn’t finished yet. Kazue lifted her head, her expression desperate.

“Don’t… don’t kill him…”

She wheezed, her voice hoarse but firm. Drake’s eyes widened in shock. He had been worried about her from the moment she appeared, but now she was saying this? However, before he or anyone else could react, Kazue forced out the words that would change everything.

“Lord Varek is being controlled!”

Drake, Park Zhen, and Jianfeng exchanged glances, their brows furrowed in confusion. Of all the things Kazue could have said, this was the last thing they had expected. The blond boy was the first to break the silence.

“Kazue, what do you mean by that?”

His voice carried equal parts exhaustion and disbelief. The girl inhaled sharply, steadying herself before speaking.

“I mean exactly what I said. Lord Varek is being controlled… Kinda”

The weight of her words settled over them like a suffocating fog. Jianfeng narrowed his eyes, processing the statement, while Park Zhen’s expression remained unreadable. Drake folded his arms.

“Please, explain.”

Kazue nodded and took a deep breath before launching into her explanation.

“Back when we were executing our plan—when we had to run from him—we managed to trap him inside Gregor’s barrier.”

Drake’s eyes flickered with recognition, and Kazue continued.

“That same barrier that Bai Huolong used against us. It cancels any system influence within it. The moment Lord Varek was inside, he—he changed.”

The others listened in silence, but she could feel their growing tension.

“He regressed, he went back to his original self—Mo Yanhui. He told us everything. How he and the rest of the Council who betrayed the Emperor were all victims of mind control, skills forced upon them by the Users who arrived in this world. He told us that it was Han Zhenwu’s final act—his sacrifice—that weakened the control just enough for him to partially break free.”

Park Zhen’s body visibly stiffened.

“Even now, there are still remnants of that control buried in his mind. The last command he received—the order to destroy Murim—is still there, forcing him into this erratic, self-contradictory behavior.”

Kazue said with conviction, remembering the tale. Jianfeng let out a sharp breath, his fingers clenching into fists.

“Impossible…”

Drake, on the other hand, didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lingered on Kazue, searching her expression for any sign of confusion. He found none, so he believed her.

But Park Zhen… Park Zhen looked as though the world had collapsed around him. His skin had turned pale, his lips slightly parted as if struggling to find words.

And then, something inside him clicked. The puzzle pieces—the ones that had never made sense no matter how he arranged them—finally fell into place.

The sudden, inexplicable betrayal of allies he had trusted for centuries. The sheer impossibility of Han Zhenwu’s death despite his overwhelming power. The strange, underlying contradictions in Lord Varek’s actions over the years.

The way, even after everything, Lord Varek had still honored Park Zhen’s wish to never receive skills from the damned system… The realization struck him like a hammer to the chest.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

With a furious, guttural roar, Park Zhen slammed his fist into the ground. The impact wasn’t destructive—no craters, no shattered earth. Instead, it was as if the very force of the blow had traveled downward, resonating through the ground itself before dispersing like a shockwave deep below them.

Drake and Kazue both tensed, their instincts screaming at them to react. But before they could move, Park Zhen stepped forward, his hands suddenly crackling with Ki.

“Wait—what are you doing?!”

Kazue yelped. Drake’s posture shifted, ready to interfere.

“Park Zhen, stand down—”

But the man ignored them. His voice was low, sharp, and filled with conviction as he turned his head slightly toward Jianfeng.

“Do it with me.”

Jianfeng hesitated, uncertain. His hands twitched as he took in the sight of Park Zhen’s glowing Ki.

“What… What are you pla… Oh, I see.”

Drake and Kazue prepared to intervene, but Park Zhen raised a hand to stop them.

“Relax. I’m not going to kill him.”

The firmness in his voice, the sheer weight behind those words, was enough to make them pause.

Jianfeng exhaled sharply, his body tensed with hesitation—but then, after a moment of contemplation, he nodded. Though his confusion remained, something in him seemed to understand.

The two men crouched down, placing their hands firmly against Lord Varek’s unconscious body. From their palms, a dome of Ki began to expand outward, enveloping Lord Varek entirely. The energy pulsed softly at first, then stabilized, forming a shimmering barrier around him.

Park Zhen stood up, his shoulders heaving slightly from the exertion.

“This won’t hold him forever, but if he wakes up, this will keep him from doing anything.”

He admitted, staring down at the unconscious figure. Then, slowly, he turned to face Kazue once more. His expression was unreadable, but his piercing eyes locked onto hers.

“Are you absolutely sure? Are you willing to stake your life on the fact that what you’re saying is true?”

Without hesitation, Kazue nodded.

“I’m sure… I’ve got perfect synchrony with Mo Yanhui, I know he was telling the truth.”

A low growl escaped from Park Zhen as he ran a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. His entire body radiated tension, his mind running through a thousand different possibilities.

He didn’t really get what was that about the synchrony from last time, but if this was true…If Lord Varek—if Mo Yanhui—was still under the lingering effects of a command forced upon him… Then there was a way to break it just like they had done with Abbess.

Suddenly, a piercing scream tore through the air, shattering the tense silence. Chloe’s desperate cry wrenched everyone from their thoughts, forcing them to turn toward the sound.

It was only then that they realized what they had unconsciously ignored in the chaos of dealing with Lord Varek.

A short distance away, Adam, Li, and Abbess were gathered in a frantic huddle around Nikolai. Desperation was etched onto their faces, a stark contrast to the battle-worn exhaustion that had gripped them moments ago. Nearby, Shen was kneeling beside Emir, whose arms were covered in severe burns. The boy was trembling, his lips pressed tightly together as he bit down hard, clearly fighting back tears despite the unbearable pain.

But it was Nikolai who was in the worst shape. He was barely breathing… His body lay sprawled on the ground, the only sign of life the shallow, ragged rise and fall of his chest. His limbs were limp, his form eerily still except for the minuscule effort it took to keep drawing breath. At some point, the others had managed to carefully roll him onto his back, his face no longer buried in the dirt, but it had done little to change the overwhelming reality of his condition.

Adam was kneeling beside him, his hands hovering helplessly over Nikolai’s broken body, his sharp mind racing but failing to come up with a solution. His expression was twisted in frustration, in helplessness—an unfamiliar feeling that clawed at him, threatening to suffocate him.

Li stood to the side, his arms crossed tightly, his face shadowed by barely contained anger—not at Nikolai, but at the sheer unfairness of the situation. His jaw clenched, and his robotic eye flickered slightly as he looked away, as if unwilling to watch something he couldn't change.

Abbess, who was normally unreadable, looked down at Nikolai with an expression Adam had never seen before—an unmistakable sorrow, quiet yet profound.

Nikolai had given everything. Despite his body being utterly broken, despite being on the brink of death, he had pushed himself past his limits. He had forced himself to move when he shouldn't have been able to. Shen’s Ki transfusion had given him a flicker of strength, and Li’s spell had fortified his failing body just enough for him to act. Just enough to let him summon his megaphone, to squeeze out those last words.

To activate [Silver Tongue] one last time.

And it had cost him everything.

Now, he was barely holding on, caught in a limbo between life and death. His eyes were unfocused, unfixed on anything, his body unresponsive. He could not see, could not hear, could not feel. The only thing that assured him he was still alive was the vague awareness that people were nearby.

His team.

His… friends.

Adam's voice wavered as he gritted his teeth, his own desperation bleeding through.

"Don't give up, damn it! You're still here. We—we’re going to get out of here. Everything will be fine."

But even as he said it, even as he tried to believe it, the words felt empty, because the scenario wasn’t over.

Lord Varek had been defeated, but the system hadn’t signaled the conclusion of the story. There was still a resolution pending—just as it had been in the last scenario. And if they were still trapped here, if Nikolai couldn’t receive proper treatment now, then…

Adam clenched his fists. Chloe had rushed over in a panic, skidding to a stop beside them. The moment she saw Nikolai, her face twisted in sheer horror.

“No… No, no, no, no!”

She fumbled desperately, reaching for the special acupuncture needles she had infused with Ki, her hands shaking so violently that she could barely hold them steady.

"Come on, damn it—this has to work!"

She choked out, pressing a needle into a pressure point on Nikolai’s arm, then another near his chest.

Nothing... She tried again... Still nothing.

Her breathing turned ragged, and fresh tears welled in her emerald eyes as she grabbed another needle, trying to force her hands to stop trembling.

“Please—please just work!”

She sobbed, her voice breaking, but tt didn’t… None of her techniques could help him.

Her shoulders trembled, and her vision blurred as the helplessness sank in. Chloe had always been full of energy, full of joy—but this wasn’t something she could just fix with optimism. Adam’s mind spiraled in search of a solution, grasping at anything that could save him.

And then, a chilling thought surfaced… His skill [Jiang Shi Creation]. He hadn’t used it before, but he had read what it did, so could he use it to transform Nikolai into a Jiang Shi to save him? His mind rapidly turned to Abbess, one that retained her mind and free will.

But Nikolai wasn’t like Abbess. If he used the skill, he wouldn’t be reviving him as himself. He would be creating a mindless undead, a puppet—one that would move, but it wouldn't be him.

The thought alone made Adam feel sick. His hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

"Damn it!"

His voice cracked as rage boiled over, not at anyone, not at anything tangible, but at himself. Even with all the power he had, even with his control over the soul and the undead, he couldn’t save a single person who actually needed him.

As the group of Drake, Kazue, Park Zhen, and Jianfeng arrived at the scene, their eyes fell upon the dire state Nikolai was in. Kazue gasped, her hands trembling as she took in the sight of her fallen comrade, while Drake’s twisted into one of raw horror. Without thinking, the two rushed forward, kneeling beside their teammate, their presence adding to the already growing sense of helplessness that weighed heavily on everyone.

Then, to the utter disbelief of those gathered, Nikolai—who by all logic should have already been beyond saving—moved ever so slightly. It was a small motion, barely perceptible, but enough to silence everyone around him.

A faint, barely-there smile tugged at his lips.

His hazy eyes, unfocused and dim, flickered slightly as he took in the distorted shapes around him. To him, everything was just a blur of shifting shadows and indistinct figures. His body no longer registered pain, no longer felt the weight of exhaustion—only a cold numbness spreading deeper and deeper. Even so, he forced his lips to part, his voice barely more than a whisper, so weak that the others had to lean in to hear.

“…Did we… win?”

Adam was the first to answer, his voice thick with emotion as he nodded fervently.

“Yes! Yes, we won! Thanks to you. We won because of you.”

But Nikolai couldn't hear him. The words were just vibrations in the air, sounds that barely reached his failing consciousness. He only saw the shadows moving, stirring as if in response to his question. He understood. He had been right. They had won.

His lips twitched again in something that might have been relief.

“…Thank God…”

He murmured, barely breathing the words out before continuing, his voice fragile, like the final embers of a dying flame.

“I’m… sorry… I never worked in a team before… Never thought I’d get to this point… when I first got sent to that lobby…”

The admission sent a wave of quiet anguish through those around him. The weight of his words settled over them, pressing heavily on their hearts.

“I should’ve… just saved myself.”

He continued, his voice frail but honest.

“That was the first thought in my head… it always was… But… for some reason… I didn’t. I don’t even know why… It wasn’t me. Even now… I don’t understand why I did it… I regret it.”

His words stung, not because they blamed him, but because they understood his frustration. He was dying, and in his last moments, he was trying to make sense of his own choices—trying to find someone to blame, something to grasp onto. But no one resented him for it. They had all seen who he was, the choices he had made, and the person he had become. And deep down, Nikolai had seen it too.

Then, with a shallow, shaky breath, he said something that struck them all like a dagger to the chest.

“…But you know… what I regret the most?”

The weak smile on his face grew, not bitter, not pained—just sincere, as if, for the first time in a long, long while, he was truly at peace but filled with sadness.

“I regret… not being able to keep going. I really… I really wanted to have more adventures with you guys…”

Tears welled in his eyes, slipping down the sides of his face, and at that moment, something inside everyone shattered.

Adam’s lips parted, but no words came out. Chloe’s shoulders trembled, silent tears streaking her cheeks as she pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. Kazue sobbed openly, unable to hold it back, the weight of the moment crushing her usually boundless energy into dust. Drake turned his face slightly away, his fists clenching at his sides, while Li—who rarely let any sympathetic emotion show—lowered his head, his eyes hidden beneath the shadow of his hat.

Even Park Zhen and Jianfeng, warriors who had seen countless deaths before, found themselves at a loss.

Nikolai slowly reached out with his remaining strength, his fingers stretching toward nothing, toward the empty air and Adam took his hand. The grip was weak, barely there—but he held it firmly, grounding Nikolai in his final moments.

Then… the last breath left Nikolai’s lips. His body fell still… No one spoke. No one moved.

And then—something flickered.

A strange spark of light, imperceptible to everyone, traveled from Nikolai’s arm to Adam’s hand and disappeared into him, vanishing before anyone could notice.

A few seconds passed in silence. Then, just as suddenly as he had died, Nikolai’s body began to dissolve. The process was slow at first—a soft, glowing disintegration, like embers carried away by the wind. His form crumbled away bit by bit, breaking down into faint golden dust that swirled gently in the air.

Before anyone could react, before they could cry out or try to hold onto what was left of him, Nikolai was gone. Nothing remained but the scattering of ashes, drifting into the wind, fading into nothingness.

The fate of all users who perished in a foreign world.

------

But sadly, this loss wasn’t the only tragic thing that was happening at that exact moment… The sharp gasp of breath that escaped Lord Varek’s lips felt foreign to him, as if it did not belong to his body. His consciousness wavered between darkness and blinding light, his thoughts sluggish, drowning in an ocean of exhaustion and pain.

His limbs felt like they were bound in invisible chains, every muscle unresponsive to his commands. The distant sounds of the battlefield echoed around him, but they were meaningless murmurs, drowned beneath the heavy fog clouding his mind. He tried to move, only to be met with a burning resistance—the Ki barrier holding him down like an unshakable weight.

His body did not obey, nor did his abilities respond to his call. He reached out instinctively, attempting to summon his power, but his mind was fragmented, barely holding itself together, his once overwhelming presence now reduced to a mere ember of what it once was.

Then, amid his blurred perception, a shadow appeared before him. Not an enemy, nor an ally, but something he did not expect. His gaze, slow and unfocused, traced the form of two bare feet standing just inches from his face.

Confusion crept into his thoughts as he forced his heavy eyelids open, his vision struggling to adjust to the golden glow that emanated from the figure before him. The light was warm, familiar in a way that sent a chill down his spine. And then, as his eyes finally focused, his breath caught in his throat. Standing before him, radiating a divine brilliance, was Han Zhenwu.

His emperor. His sworn brother. The man he had betrayed.

Lord Varek’s breath shuddered as the world seemed to narrow around them. Everything else—the battlefield, the pain, the confusion—ceased to exist in that moment. All that remained was the golden figure before him, staring down at him with an expression that was neither anger nor disappointment, but something far heavier. Understanding. Recognition.

“How did you fall so far, Yanhui?”

The voice was as steady as it had always been, filled with that unshakable presence that had once commanded entire nations.

Lord Varek tried to respond, but his throat felt like it had been crushed. He could only stare, his mind racing, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. He had imagined this moment countless times in his nightmares—had relived the betrayal over and over again in the deepest recesses of his thoughts.

Han Zhenwu stepped forward, his golden presence filling every inch of Varek’s vision.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He continued, the weight in his tone suffocating.

“I have always protected you. And this time will be no different.”

Lord Varek’s hands twitched against the ground, his nails digging into the dirt. This wasn’t right. His mind screamed that something was wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. And yet, he could not tear his eyes away, could not ignore the overwhelming pressure that came with those words.

“You were right.”

Han Zhenwu said, his voice softer, almost reassuring.

“This world has been tainted. Those invaders, that system—they are the true enemies. You have always seen the truth, even when others refused to. And now, I will give you the strength to finish what we started.”

A tremor ran through Lord Varek’s body, a mixture of rage and disbelief clawing its way into his chest. His vision blurred for a moment, but his mind was sharp enough to notice it—the faintest flicker, an imperceptible glitch that marred the perfection of Han Zhenwu’s golden face. It was subtle, nearly nonexistent, but for someone like Lord Varek, it was unmistakable.

His entire body went rigid, his breath sharp and unsteady. His fingers curled into fists as fury erupted from the depths of his being. His voice, though hoarse and weak, was laced with venom.

“Who… who are you?”

The golden figure remained unfazed, its expression unreadable. Lord Varek’s teeth clenched, his muscles straining against the exhaustion weighing him down.

“How dare you wear his face?”

His voice, though still not at full strength, carried an unshakable authority.

“How dare you use his words?”

A sigh escaped the golden apparition, slow and deliberate, like the exhale of a disappointed parent.

“So, you’re not as foolish as I thought, what a shame.”

It mused, tilting its head ever so slightly. And then, as if dissolving like sand in the wind, Han Zhenwu’s visage began to break apart. His regal features, the warmth in his eyes, the divine glow that once radiated certainty—all of it crumbled away, revealing something else beneath. Where once had been the noble, unwavering face of his emperor, now stood a being that was neither man nor god.

A shifting, amorphous form took its place, feminine in shape but lacking distinct features. Its face was an empty canvas, its eyes mere outlines of something unfathomable. The creature knelt before him, observing him with eerie amusement, as though he were nothing more than an intriguing specimen.

“I offer you a choice.”

The entity said, her voice smooth yet hollow, reverberating as if spoken from an unfathomable depth.

“Stay here and suffer for your failures, knowing that the influence of those invaders will soon take root in your world once more.”

Lord Varek’s breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling with restrained fury. His body, though still weak, was beginning to recover, and his mind—though clouded with exhaustion—remained sharp enough to recognize deception. His glare burned into the shifting, faceless form before him, his hands twitching against the ground as if they longed to wrap around her throat.

“Or…”

The entity continued, leaning closer.

“You can accept my hand. I will save you. And in return, you will help me.”

Lord Varek’s jaw clenched. He didn’t trust this thing, didn’t trust a single word that left her mouth. But that didn’t mean he would let the conversation end without answers. His voice, though hoarse, carried the weight of his anger.

“Help with what!?”

He demanded. The entity’s head tilted ever so slightly, her indistinct features shifting as if something beneath her skin was struggling to break free. Then, without warning, her lips twisted into an unnatural grin—far too wide, far too sharp, as if her face could barely contain the expression.

“To destroy this damned System, of course.”

Her words dripped with something vile, something ancient and festering.

Suddenly, system notifications materialized in front of every remaining user, all of them blinking in an urgent, unmistakable red.

[Warning: An external force has expended ‘Influence Points’ to alter the scenario!] [Character ‘Lord Varek’ has been reclassified.] [Notice: Character ‘Lord Varek’ is no longer part of the scenario. He has become a ‘User’.]

Terror spread across every face. Their heads snapped toward Lord Varek, their bodies stiff with realization. But before anyone could react, another notification appeared.

[Notice: UR-Rank Plot Device “Emergency Exit” has been used]

A suffocating silence fell over the battlefield as they watched in stunned horror.

Lord Varek’s body began to dissolve.

Not violently, not chaotically—this was not the disintegration of someone losing their power. This was controlled, deliberate. It was as if something—or someone—was pulling him from their reality.

“No!”

Park Zhen screamed, his voice loud as an explosion. Adam’s breath caught in his throat, his mind screaming for a solution, a countermeasure—anything.

But there was nothing they could do. The last thing they saw was the system’s final message.

[Notice: User ‘Mo Yanhui (Lord Varek)’ has left the scenario.]

And just like that, he was gone.