The Advent Of A God

It was night. The moon was once again in full bloom, casting its silver light across the darkened world. Stars shimmered faintly in the sky, veiled behind drifting clouds that occasionally cleared to reveal the heavens in full.

Lylias stood at the outskirts of the city, in the same open field where he had previously fought Biáshí to gauge her strength.

It's painfully obvious now—the mysterious woman is a player, just like me. And yet… who could she be?

He hadn't had many friends back in the game. His in-game friend list was small—and all of them were men. Even those who used female avatars were men behind the screen. After all, there were practically no real female players online.

Just men pretending.

The moon here… it looks exactly the same as Earth's…

A gust of wind swept across the field, stirring his dark cloak and rustling the tall grass. It was cool and clean, carrying the scent of night.

He walked a little farther, then sat down on a large stone embedded in the earth. As he settled, his thoughts drifted to the mysterious player—wondering what kind of build she used, what skills or items she had access to.

Just then, a voice called from behind him.

He turned around and saw a young boy—barely twelve, perhaps—wearing ragged clothes, his face dirty and bruised.

"What is it?" Lylias asked curtly.

"They… they took Húwen!" the boy cried, clearly out of breath.

"Húwen? And who exactly is Húwen? And who are 'they'?"

The boy dropped to his knees. "My lord, Húwen is my friend. You met her today—she tried to ask you to teach her cultivation… but you refused."

"Ah… the brown-haired little girl," Lylias said, remembering. "And who would kidnap someone like her? She's barely different from a beggar. What could anyone possibly gain?"

"It was the Beggar Mafia," the boy said, his voice trembling. "They take children like us… amputate our limbs… then send us to different cities to beg for them. Their men watch us constantly… we're never free."

Lylias narrowed his eyes. "You seem to know a lot about how this mafia works."

The boy looked down. "I was taken by them too. I used to live in WhiteLily City with my mother, but… they came. They killed her. Took me away. I escaped by pure luck and made it here…"

Lylias stood, brushing the dust from his cloak. "A tragic story," he said flatly. "But why tell me? Why not go to the city lord?"

The boy looked up, desperation clear in his eyes. "People like me can't even get within five meters of the city lord's mansion's front gate. The guards chase us away before we're even seen. No one helps people like us. That's why… I came to you."

Then, kneeling fully, he bowed his head low to the ground. "Please… save her. Save all the children they've taken."

Lylias turned away. "How sad. But I really don't care."

He began to walk off.

But the boy lunged forward and grabbed his leg. "Please! She's the only friend I have! She's like an older sister to me. Please, I'm begging you…"

"You know, I'm starting to feel the urge to kill you," Lylias said coldly. "And trust me—it wouldn't take more than a flick of my hand to slice you clean in two."

But the boy didn't release him. His grip only tightened.

"I don't care if I die. Just please… save her."

There was a long silence.

"…Fine," Lylias finally said.

The boy blinked. "R-Really?"

"Yes. But it's not free." He gave a cold smile. "I'm going to use you as a test dummy later. I've got some frustration I need to vent. Do we have a deal?"

The boy nodded fervently. "I accept. I don't care what happens to me."

"Very good." Lylias crouched slightly. "Now, tell me—where's their base? Or at least, which direction did they go?"

"They took the forest path… but I've heard there are beasts and monsters lurking there…"

"I see. And how strong are these syndicate members?"

"They're not strong. Most are weaker than an average man. But a few might be at the Body Tempering or early Qi Condensation stage…"

Lylias raised an eyebrow. "You're surprisingly well-informed about cultivation. We'll talk more about that later."

Then, without warning, he scooped the boy up with one arm and stood tall.

"Now—show me the way."

....

Following the boy's directions, Lylias soared above the forest, gliding silently through the air. His sharp eyes scanned the terrain below until he spotted movement: a group of men, rough and dirty, trudging along the path. Among them were not just Húwen, but two more children bound with rope—one, a red-haired boy; the other, a girl with pale blue hair and a white cloth tied tightly over her eyes.

A blindfold. No… she's blind, he realized.

Lylias narrowed his eyes.

"There they are," he muttered. "Time to descend… though…"

He glanced at the boy in his arms. "This forest doesn't seem to have any strong beasts or monsters. Oddly peaceful. I didn't see a single creature on the way here."

"This path is mostly used by commoners," the boy replied. "That's why. It's considered one of the safer routes—most monsters avoid it."

"Ah… that's all I needed to hear."

With a flick of his wrist, Lylias raised his hand toward the ground.

Suddenly, a massive wall of jagged ice erupted from the earth, crashing down directly in front of the syndicate group with a thunderous crack. It towered high and wide—an impenetrable barrier of cold, shimmering frost, cutting off their path entirely.

Panic followed.

The men skidded to a stop, shouting and drawing crude weapons. One tripped and fell. Another grabbed the children, now visibly frightened.

Lylias began to descend, a cold gleam in his eyes.

"Geez… no need to act so brash," he said, voice calm yet cutting. "What's coming for you is far worse."

"Who—who are you?! Daring to interfere in our affairs?!" barked one of the seven syndicate members, a large, rugged man gripping a massive halberd.

He must be the leader, Lylias thought. He has the look of one.

He gently set the boy down.

"Perhaps I am interfering," Lylias said coolly. "Not that it matters. Today will be the last day any of you draw breath. So—any final words before the inevitable arrives?"

Before anyone could respond, sudden laughter rang out.

It came from none other than Húwen.

Everyone turned toward her—syndicate members and children alike.

"You're all so screwed," she said, smirking despite the ropes. "Not even the heavens can save you now."

The syndicate leader's face twisted in fury. He stormed over and slapped her hard across the face, knocking her to the ground.

"How dare a filthy weakling like you laugh at me!" he snarled.

The boy tried to rush to Húwen's side, but Lylias stopped him with an arm. "Don't move. That's an order."

Then Lylias turned toward the bandit leader, his voice calm.

"Why do you even do this? Running a beggar mafia? Don't you have better things to waste your life on?"

"Why would I care?" the leader replied with a sneer. "I don't run the syndicate—I just get paid. My job is simple: bring in weak kids. That's all. According to the boss above me, the weak have only one purpose—to serve the strong in whatever way the strong desire."

"Wow…" Lylias said, cracking his fingers. "You know, I actually agree with that philosophy. The strong flourish, and the weak suffer. It's the natural order of things. And by that decree—all of you weaklings, you and your fellow members, are going to die… because that is what I desire."

"Fool! You're courting death! We have the advantage in numbers—and we're Adept cultivators!" the boss shouted, and all seven syndicate members raised their weapons toward Lylias.

"A bunch of ants could never defeat an elephant," Lylias muttered.

The boss gave the signal, and all seven charged.