109: Chapter 109 Immortal Heroes

The night, like rice paper soaked in thick ink, silently spread across the entire firmament.

There was no moon, nor were there any of the stars of old.

It was as if even the light was in mourning for this grand funeral that had swept across the entire world.

The suppressed sobbing gradually ceased. Skillful Hands Mending just crouched there, her shoulders twitching slightly like a fledgling bird drenched by a rainstorm, curled up in a corner of the world's ruins.

Outlaw Zhang San did not go to comfort her.

At this moment, any words would appear pale and powerless.

They, the survivors, were like fish slapped back onto the beach by a giant wave; though still alive, they had forever lost the entire ocean they once swam in.

Grief was not a river, but a vast ocean that completely submerged every surviving lonely island.

He just silently raised his head and looked toward that void of hopeless darkness.

He wanted to find something.

A star, a ray of light, a coordinate to prove they had once existed.

But there was nothing.

In the midst of this extreme deathly silence, a surviving player, formerly 'Gossip Reporter Little Trumpet'—that intelligence hunter who always maintained the highest sensitivity to any sign of movement—suddenly let out an extremely confused and suppressed gasp of surprise.

"The sky... look at the sky..." Her voice carried a hint of trembling, not from fear, but from an unbelievable, cognition-shattering daze.

Everyone subconsciously followed her gaze.

The night curtain was still that same pure black.

But, something seemed different.

In the depths of that endless darkness, a faint point of light lit up without warning.

It was not silver, nor was it the color of any star in memory.

It was a kind of... warm, faint gold, as if carrying the residual warmth of life.

Just like a tiny spark being blown about in the wind.

Then, a second one, a third one...

As if someone were holding an invisible brush dipped in the blood of a deity, using the entire universe as a canvas to solemnly and majestically dot those souls that were supposed to be eternally extinguished, stroke by stroke.

The points of light grew more numerous. They were no longer isolated existences but began to connect with each other in profound trajectories, outlining vague silhouettes.

Outlaw Zhang San's pupils shrank suddenly.

He saw it.

In the eastern horizon, a giant greatsword composed of dozens of golden stars was slowly taking shape.

The blade was sharp, the hilt heavy, exuding a decisive aura of slicing through the firmament and charging forward relentlessly.

He was all too familiar with that aura.

That was the sword of 'Charge to the End'.

It was the appearance of that spirit sword burning with faith when he had made his final death charge, shouting, "For the Ancestor's golden coffin!"

In another direction, an incredibly heavy and massive shield composed of over a hundred stars was condensing in the night sky.

The shield was primitive and unadorned, yet it gave off a steady feeling of being indestructible, capable of withstanding all the torrents of the world.

"Immovable as a Mountain..." a surviving member of the 'Pot Lid Army' murmured lost in thought, tears welling up again.

That was their Legion Commander, the Shield Mountain who would never fall in their hearts.

More constellations began to emerge.

A precision-engineered war golem that seemed to still be functioning—that was the ultimate masterpiece of Liver Emperor V87.

A skull wearing an eyepatch and smirking—that was the Jolly Roger logo Keyboard Warrior Governing the Nation loved most.

A giant wielding a massive hammer, swinging it with all his might—that was the Infrastructure Maniac.

A beam of holy light standing side-by-side with a mass of twisted shadow, reflecting each other—that was Holy Light Hunk and his nemesis, Plague Knight - Zero.

...

The entire sky turned into a magnificent, unprecedented temple dome.

Every constellation was an immortal statue.

Every statue was a gray name that would never light up again.

They had not disappeared.

They had simply changed their form to hang high above, becoming eternal guides and beacons in this world they had saved with their lives.

All the surviving players stood up, staring blankly up at this starry sky that shone for them.

Grief still surged in their hearts, but that despair which was enough to crush the spirit was slowly and gently diluted under this magnificent starlight.

Skillful Hands Mending also raised her head, and in that shimmering sea of stars, she found it at a glance.

It was an extremely gorgeous and dazzling... wedding dress, woven from countless tiny stars.

It hung quietly in the night sky, brighter than any material she could imagine, ten thousand times brighter than the "brightest in the universe" she had promised.

Her tears fell once more, but this time, a relieved, tearful smile touched the corners of her mouth.

"It's so beautiful..." she whispered softly, as if speaking to a dear friend far away, "...you fool, you're still so fond of looking pretty."

Just then, a grand, majestic, yet inexplicably compassionate and familiar will descended upon the hearts of every living being.

It was not heard through the ears, but rang directly in the deepest part of the soul.

That voice was the wind, the light, the mountains, the rivers—it was the heartbeat of the world itself.

Yet, one could vaguely identify it as the voice of their very familiar Ancestor.

However, there was no longer any hint of personal emotion in this voice; there was only the most impartial declaration of law as the 'World GM'.

[World Announcement: In memory of all pioneers who gave their eternal existence to protect the world during the 'War of the Evil God'... ]

[...The stars shall be their monuments, and the heroic spirits shall be immortal.]

[Sacred Space—'Hall of Valor', officially established.]

The moment the voice fell, a brand new tab emitting a soft golden light appeared on all the survivors' system screens—[Hall of Valor].

[World Announcement: All members of the World Guardian Alliance may enter the 'Hall of Valor' through their will. Within the hall, you may admire the countenances of the pioneers and remember their achievements.]

[New Function Unlocked: Blessing of the Heroic Spirits.]

[Future generations may obtain powerful status buffs from the pioneers by admiring the statues of the heroic spirits and completing the 'Inheritance Trial' quests they left behind. Those with excellent completion rates will even have the chance to learn 'projections' of some of the heroic spirits' signature abilities.]

[The deceased have not gone far; they have turned into the most brilliant starlight... protecting this realm.]

The announcement ended.

The entire world fell into silence once again.

But this time, the silence was no longer deathly, but a solemn and sacred hush.

The survivors looked at each other, seeing in one another's eyes a complex expression mixed with tears, shock, and supreme glory.

Are they dead?

Yes, in the most absolute way.

But they have also lived on.

In the greatest way possible.

"Outlaw Zhang San" slowly stretched out a trembling finger and lightly tapped on the [Hall of Valor] tab.

The scene before him shifted instantly.

He found himself standing inside a hall whose magnificence was beyond words.

The dome was that same shimmering sea of stars from outside.

The floor was paved with black divine stone as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the starlight from across the sky.

Inside the great hall stood thousands upon thousands of lifelike statues.

He saw "The Romance of the Science Guy", still in that pose of pushing up his glasses and calculating calmly. On the base of the statue was inscribed a small line of text: "The optimal logical solution is my faith."

He saw "Immovable as a Mountain", that man like a mountain. The statue's pose was exactly the final moment when he linked arms with his comrades to face the light spear of divine punishment. On the base was written: "Behind me is the future."

He even saw the Ninth Prince.

The statue of this native cultivator stood among the players, not looking out of place at all.

His posture was that of the moment he walked toward the furnace, his face carrying a tragic yet relieved determination.

On the base was only one sentence: "For my shattered homeland, for my newborn faith."

Zhang San began to walk, moving slowly through this eternal hall.

He passed by every statue, looked at every familiar face, and read every unique epitaph inscribed upon them.

His eyes remained moist, but his chest gradually straightened up bit by bit.

They did not lose that era.

That era was forever preserved with the highest specifications of respect by the Ancestor and by this brand new world.

These survivors were no longer pitiful people burdened by the shadows of the dead.

They were the watchers of this Hall of Valor, the witnesses and inheritors of the immortal legends... under this starry sky.

He slowly withdrew from the Hall of Valor, his consciousness returning to reality.

The morning light had completely torn through the night curtain.

The first ray of sunlight of the new era shone warmly upon his face.

He turned around and looked at his comrades, who had also withdrawn, their faces stained with tears but their eyes bright.

He took a deep breath, and that torture called "survival" that had been weighing on his heart finally transformed into a heavy medal called "responsibility."

He spoke slowly, his voice hoarse yet firmer than ever before.

"We... are home."

Yes, home.

Back to this brand new home that they and their comrades had personally fought for.