I, the Final Boss of the Beta Server!

Chapter 137: The Farewell Banquet

Starfall University, western campus, dormitory area.

After more than a month, Rast had finally returned to his long-abandoned dormitory.

Strangely enough—if it had been in his previous life, a university student would have spent at least half of their college days holed up in their dorm.

However, for the students of Starfall University… especially the Nightworld raiders who were not engaged in research or logistics but carried out long-term expeditions, it was perfectly normal to go ten days or half a month without returning.

Compared to a peaceful home, the academy felt more like a safe zone or town in a role-playing game—

A place where one only returned for maintenance and recovery after each mission, to forge weapons, replenish consumables, and recruit new teammates…

And once everything was prepared, a new journey would begin immediately.

The dormitory’s wooden door was covered in dust from disuse.

Rast crouched down and noticed that the iron maple leaf he had wedged in the doorframe before leaving had fallen to the floor.

That iron maple leaf, once as solid as steel, now bore a thin, silvery scratch.

It was the mark of a rapier—at least of crest-armament level—and the wielder’s technique had to be exceptional.

Though it was a clash of metals, not a single excess mark had been left behind besides that tiny scratch.

Among all the people Rast knew at Starfall University, there was only one rapier user with such exquisite swordsmanship—

“Shiltina?”

Rast pushed open the door. It creaked as it swung inward.

The familiar scent of violet shampoo lingered in the air.

Bathed in the setting sun’s glow, the room was red-hued.

A girl sat curled up at the window, arms around her knees, quietly waiting.

The sunset’s afterglow streamed through the window and fell upon her flawless, delicate face.

Her chestnut hair, braided into a princess plait, shimmered faintly in the light.

Shiltina sat on the windowsill, her light brown eyes gazing out at the sky.

The twilight reflected in her pupils, as brilliant as a sea of stars.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

The scene beneath the sunset was breathtaking—like a still oil painting.

If one could ignore…

The snow-white ferret on Shiltina’s shoulder, rubbing its eyes with its tail and mumbling to itself.

“I’ve gone over a whole month without food—my stomach’s touching my back…”

“And now, right before I starve to death, I see two long-lost food tickets appear together. What kind of dream is this?”

“Or maybe this isn’t a dream at all… Maybe it’s a hallucination I’m having before I go meet my great-grandma… just like that matchstick girl story Rast told once?”

It rubbed its eyes with its tiny paw, and a hunger flashed in its ruby-like beast eyes.

With a leap like a starved wolf, it lunged at Rast.

Jumping from Shiltina’s shoulder to Rast’s head.

Then, sensing Rast’s familiar soul energy, the sequence progression that had long since stagnated within itself began to rise again, revitalized by the brilliant purity of a human soul.

The Dean Silver’s expression shifted from hunger to zen-like peace.

Indeed, the best delicacies were those you had just as you were on the brink of starvation.

Truly, I never again ate as fine a meal as I did that night, nor saw food tickets like those again—Dean Silver.

…

Meanwhile, feeling the added fluff on his head, Rast didn’t react to the Dean Silver’s antics.

This guy was a professional at weaponized cuteness.

Despite being old enough to be one of Starfall’s top ten unsolved mysteries, it insisted on pretending to be an underage ferret…

Neither Rast nor Shiltina were fazed by it anymore.

Rast waved to Shiltina. “Long time no see.”

“Mm, it really has been a while…”

“Though it’s only been about two months in the real world, we both entered the Nightworld during that time. We’ve each lived through nearly a year, haven’t we?”

As she spoke, Shiltina jumped down from the windowsill.

She wasn’t wearing her usual red and white knight uniform, but casual home clothes.

Her signature red-and-white knight boots were neatly placed by the entrance.

In their place, she wore long white socks.

Shiltina’s aura had softened too—not like the sharply formidable presence Rast first encountered back in Deep Blue Port.

Instead, she now exuded tranquility and gentleness.

She was no longer the awe-inspiring female knight, but a girl living her everyday life, fitting her actual age.

To Rast, it was fine—he hadn’t known Shiltina long and wasn’t familiar with her usual demeanor, only sensing a subtle change.

But to the Dean Silver, it was a shock.

As someone who had known Shiltina even before she enrolled at Starfall University—practically watching the princess grow up—

The Dean Silver remembered clearly:

No matter what powerful figures she faced, no matter the hardship or scorn, Shiltina never changed herself.

She was like an unsheathed rapier, all edge and steel—unyielding and uncompromising.

She only ever moved in the direction she believed in, even if it meant breaking.

This was the first time she had changed so noticeably.

Or rather, it wasn’t exactly a change.

It was that she had consciously hidden that sharp edge, not wanting those close to her to feel uncomfortable due to her pride.

All for—

The boy before her.

“Tsk tsk tsk… this girl…”

The Dean Silver muttered under its breath, unheard by anyone.

…

“I heard from Dean Agatha that something happened with Senior Ingrid.”

“The military, the Bureau of Authority, and even the top levels of the Imperial Capital are in complete upheaval. At least a third of the noble houses have been affected.”

Rast asked, “You’ve probably been busy sorting out all that mess, Shiltina. How do you even have time to visit me?”

Rast had of course heard about the earthquakes shaking the Imperial Capital.

But he had focused all his energy on the upcoming Echo of the Era campaign, leaving him no room for distractions—so he only knew the surface details.

Maybe only after the campaign ended could he turn his attention back to the real world.

“It’s just a temporary break—I came back midway to rest a bit.”

Shiltina rubbed her elegant brow with a hint of weariness. “There’s too much entanglement in all this. It can’t possibly end quickly.”

“This peace is only temporary. The great noble houses might launch a final counterattack soon.”

“But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about you…”

As she spoke, she turned her gaze back to Rast. “I heard everything from the Dean Silver—about Senior Akxia and the Echo of the Era.”

“Even though no one can predict the Nightworld’s hidden rules, it’s clear that President Akxia being trapped in the Historical Echo is related to Ophelia’s request.”

“She’s my half-sister after all… so I share part of the responsibility.”

Shiltina looked at Rast. “So, do you need my help?”

“Although the Echo of the Era doesn’t allow for team entries, doing what Akxia did before—using a tracking crystal to enter the same echo as you—should still be possible.”

Shiltina’s light brown eyes shimmered with sincerity.

She stared at Rast, quietly waiting for his answer.

Rast knew Shiltina’s nature well—

This proud knight was never one to go back on her word.

If he said the word, Shiltina would abandon all her other duties and follow him into the Echo of the Era.

Her presence would no doubt be a tremendous asset.

If his intuition was right, the chestnut-haired girl before him had already advanced past the fifth tier during their time apart.

Such rapid progression rivaled even his own.

Combined with her exceptional nightblade, the “Infinite Blade,” even without invoking its “True Name Liberation,” she could still contend with regular sixth-tier transcendents.

Rast even suspected that she had already taken the development of the “Infinite Blade” a step further.

Possibly awakening a higher-tier ability beyond the “True Name Liberation.”

With that, Shiltina’s destructive power against groups would be terrifying—nearly overwhelming any transcendent below Tier 6.

And that kind of indiscriminate, large-scale firepower was exactly what Rast’s ability system lacked.

After all, aside from forbidden weapons that were basically one-time-use trump cards, Rast was still only Tier 4.

But in the end—

After a moment of thought, Rast shook his head.

“Thanks, but no need.”

“If the Nightworld’s hidden rules act up again, and you end up like Akxia, that would be too much.”

He smiled faintly, his gaze distant.

Though he looked at the chestnut-haired princess before him, Rast’s eyes seemed to drift to someplace far beyond.

“Besides—this is a story I began myself. A fairy tale I’ve written with my own hands.”

“So naturally, I should be the one… to bring it to its proper ending.”

Hearing Rast’s answer, Shiltina stared at him for a long time.

Once she confirmed it was a heartfelt decision, not just a facade, she nodded in understanding.

Shiltina was never one for indecision.

Once she made a decision, she never wavered, never doubted.

And she knew Rast was the same—someone who wouldn’t change his mind for anyone.

They were both deeply self-driven people.

And that was precisely why they could be true kindred spirits.

So when Rast had made up his mind—

Any further persuasion would only waste time.

All she could do was support him as a friend… and pray for his safe return.

“I understand.”

“Then, before you board the military train to the Arcane Tower and enter the Echo of the Era—come try my cooking.”

Shiltina smiled and walked toward the kitchen. “After all, a farewell dinner before departure is tradition, isn’t it? Consider it my way of saying thanks.”

She glanced at the sky-blue crest in her palm.

It was the rapier-armament she used now—Fran’s final gift to her.

“Even if it’s a little late… I’m really glad I got to make peace with Fran.”

Rast blinked. “You can cook?”

“Mm…” Shiltina nodded gently. “When I was very young, still living in the ranger family in the Autumnleaf Territory, before anyone ever called me ‘princess’—my mother taught me to cook.”

“She said she once won over my father’s stomach—and his heart—with a single meal.”

“Though later, my parents went their separate ways, even ended up on opposite sides of life and death… my mother never once regretted meeting my father.”

“And when she taught me to cook, the smile she wore while recalling him was never insincere.”

She skillfully began preparing the already-bought ingredients in the kitchen.

“To this day, cooking remains one of the few hobbies I’ve kept—besides swordsmanship.”

She smiled again. “That egg-fried rice you made back in Deep Blue Port—I’ve remembered it ever since.”

“So let this meal be a commemoration of our first meeting in Deep Blue Port… and my return gift.”

As smoke gently rose from the chimney—

Night deepened…