178 Counter Attack

The sky above was pixelated with vivid blues streaked with sharp angles, like broken glass pretending to be clouds. The grass beneath me was too green, the kind you only saw in early-game zones, and the wind was silent despite the trees swaying overhead.

Joan’s memories were made of fragments. Old code and decaying assets stitched together into something barely coherent. A dream of a game that used to be real. Or rather, had always been real: the world of Lost Legends Online.

I sat cross-legged atop a glowing rainbow-colored summoning circle, the kind reserved for world-boss events or ridiculously overpriced cash-shop rituals. Standing before me, his warm palm pressed against my forehead, was the old man. No name. No health bar. Just him.

He looked younger here. Not youthful, but lighter, as though memory had trimmed the weight from his shoulders.

“You seem to have adapted to that world rather well, didn’t you?” he asked.

I opened one eye. “What do you mean?”

He gestured lazily to my outfit. Only then did I realize I wasn't wearing the armor I'd entered with. Somehow, I was dressed in my favorite skin from the game, the Lofty Jade Proposition.

Long emerald robes flowed around me, trimmed in gold and embroidered with patterns that shimmered like calligraphy caught mid-spell. The sleeves billowed dramatically with the slightest movement, while the high collar made me feel both dignified and like I was trying far too hard at a xianxia convention.

The old man tilted his head. “That choice of clothing. Even in this memory space, your self-image clings to the style of the other world.”

I tugged at a sleeve. “Do most people in the Greater Universe dress like this?”

“It depends,” he replied, settling beside me as if we were old monks sharing a mountain summit. “The Greater Universe is vast. But most civilizations, especially those under the Suppression Mandates, remain trapped in feudal systems. Progress is halted. Resources are hoarded. The common folk stay poor while cultivators hoard the stars.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“It should.” He scoffed. “The rulers of the Greater Universe, these so-called Supreme Beings, are power-hungry tyrants. They cling to authority, terrified of collapse and terrified of mortals becoming anything more than tools.”

I frowned. “Supreme Beings? Are you stronger than them?”

He smiled cryptically. "Can't say.”

“I think I saw the term once or twice in LLO, but was mostly incomplete.”

The old man chuckled darkly. “Everything in that game was unfinished. I never had enough resources or time to complete it. Know that this world you perceived as a game was based on something. A very distant age that not even the Supreme Beings of this age have no idea about."

I exhaled slowly. “So you're saying there's more out there than even the Greater Universe?”

He placed two fingers against my forehead. I flinched.

“Hold still.”

The world stuttered. It felt as though reality had dropped a frame.

Knowledge flooded into my mind. Skills I barely understood. Techniques I could only partially grasp. A few seemed familiar, but most were completely alien. I felt like a USB stick being force-fed an entire library.

“The Memory Transference Technique isn’t a cure-all,” he muttered. “You’ll forget pieces. You’ll butcher forms. You’ll misuse energy. This is only a scaffold. Something that will allow you to handle divine power with more ease.”

I grunted as pressure built behind my eyes. “That’s fair.”

“Just because you’ve learned a few tricks doesn’t mean you can contend with a god the first chance you got. What difference is there between a god and an immortal? The latter draws power from there immortality, but the former draws power from there authority. Some say this two existences are not mutually exclusive. There's merit into thinking such a thing, but the devil is on the details. The way you are now, you have a chance of contending with Aixin as long as you can draw power from your authority.”

He stopped.

I opened one eye. “What?”

He looked away.

Even here, inside this artificial dream-memory, a heaviness settled over the air.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?”

I didn't answer. There was little point. He already knew.

“That you sparked your Divine Soul?” he continued. “That after this fight, your future is either death or infinite suffering?”

I released a shallow breath. “No need to burden Joan with that knowledge.”

“She’s doing her best to buy you time,” he said. “Using her memory and mental strength to resist Aixin so you can stay here a little longer. Normally, a god could expel anyone who entered their domain, their soul. But you…?”

He leaned back, studying me like some anomaly the system had failed to account for.

“Divine Possession at this level is baffling. Combined with the recipient's willingness—that being Joan—you actually had a chance of making it work.”

“Is that a compliment?” I asked.

“No.” His answer was immediate. “I’m simply amazed you haven’t been eroded by the skill.”

I fell silent, because I knew exactly what he meant.

Erosion rarely came with dramatic transformations. It was subtle. A slow tug at the edges of your identity until you could no longer tell which parts were truly yours and which belonged to borrowed power.

“What is your goal?” the old man asked. “Why fight so desperately, even when you know it means your death?”

His words weren’t meant to wound. He simply wanted to know.

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I thought about it, carefully.

“At first, I just wanted to die swinging. I lit up my Divine Soul and cast Exalted Renewal so Aixin wouldn’t get what she wanted. If my soul was extinguished, she’d get nothing. Not the Paladin Legacy. Not Earth’s location. Not my memories. But then she showed up. Using Joan’s body.”

A dry laugh escaped me.

“And that just pissed me off.”

The old man tilted his head. “So you wanted to save her?”

“Yeah.”

“Because she’s your lover?”

I laughed, loud and bitter.

“Not even close.”

His expression remained unchanged.

“To me, Karen is real. The girl who used to sit behind Joan D’Arc. The one who joked about online games being a waste of time before getting addicted to LLO. But Joan? The Saintess of Final Light? I don’t know her.”

Silence lingered for a moment.

“If anything, I might be doing this for Dave.”

Something shifted inside me at the name.

“My Holy Spirit. The real owner of this body. The guy who loved your world and poured everything into becoming a good Paladin.”

I paused.

“Or maybe I’m doing it for myself.”

The old man said nothing.

I looked up at the fractured sky, at clouds frozen in place beneath broken textures.

“The truth is, I didn’t earn this power. I didn’t train for it. I didn’t fight through ten thousand battles to become a holy knight. I inherited it. Like some idiot tripping into a suit of armor and suddenly being called a hero.”

The words came easier now.

“This was David_69’s power. My old MMO character. The one who spent weeks grinding shield skills, writing stupid macros, and naming his shield KarenStopHittingMe. I was just the hand behind the keyboard.”

I swallowed.

“I’m just a meddling soul caught up in something far bigger than myself. That must be why it was so easy to let go.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew they were a lie.

“Hah. Who am I kidding?”

I exhaled slowly.

“It wasn’t easy at all.”

Power was addictive.

Still, I was glad.

“I like your resolve,” the old man said with a faint smile. Thin cracks spread across his cheeks like fractures in porcelain. “And who doesn’t want to see the underdog win?”

His palm lingered against my forehead for a moment before he pulled away.

“The true nature of the Spell Slot System in LLO,” he began, his voice already fading with him, “is that it allows a person to wield Quintessence through Spell Slots.”

I blinked.

“Quintessence? As in Immortal Qi?”

He nodded.

“Yes. Fragmented, tamed, and bound into a system designed to resemble a game so a being from Earth could comprehend it. It is not permanent, but you should be able to cast your Ultimate Skills six times in total.”

“Six?”

“Six. Divine Possession allowed you to bypass the limiters that would have shattered your mind. Even then, you're not a god. Not yet.”

“I didn’t ask to be. So what are my odds?”

“You cannot defeat Aixin. Not even in her current state.” His voice remained calm. “But you can save Joan.”

I wanted to believe him.

Before he vanished completely, I stepped forward and grabbed the edge of his fading sleeve.

“Wait. Any idea how to break this damn time-loop cage? And that curse that keeps turning me to stone and dragging me back into my worst memories?”

The sleeve shimmered and crumbled apart in my hand.

The old man folded his arms.

“The former sounds like the Never-Ending Bonds of Regret.”

“That’s a spell?”

“A curse. Usually self-inflicted, but someone has modified it into a prison. Rarely seen outside the Age of Divinity. It's a pretty ancient spell, even by my standards”

“And the petrification?”

His expression darkened.

“That sounds like Punishment of the Wicked Who Pretends to Be Good.”

I flinched at the name alone, while the old man continued on his explanation.

“It’s a powerful curse. It doesn't judge actions or karma. It judges contradiction. The gap between what you claim to stand for and what you truly are. The greater the hypocrisy perceived by the caster and sometimes by the world itself, the stronger it becomes. Something this powerful could've only been cast by a Supreme Being. Someone sent Aixin for you, and this curses you suffered are just a taste for what kind of power a Supreme Being possess. There are probably limitations and reasons why the Supreme Being in question didn't come for you himself. Hah~! Da Wei, your situation is bleak, but I will be rooting for you.”

"Thanks for the support, old man."

My jaw tightened. I didn't need him to explain further. I remembered the loops, the Summit Hall, the bodies, and the choices.

“And how do I counter it?” I asked quietly.

He looked at me, his eyes softer now, carrying something resembling sympathy. Then he told me everything—each method, each cost, each risk. I listened carefully and committed every word to memory; there was no room for forgetting. When he finished, his form gave way to dust and sparkling light. He didn’t vanish so much as disperse, as though his purpose had been fulfilled and the rest of him was no longer needed. No final words. No farewell. Just silence.

Finally, I was alone.

“I’ve done what I can,” Joan whispered beside me. Her voice was soft and distant, while the illusion of her arms wrapped gently around my chest from behind.

I tapped her hand lightly.

“I've got it handled,” I said. “You'll see Dave again.”

I blinked.

When my eyes opened, I was back.

Back inside the suffocating heat of the Wandering Adjudicator armor, its divine plates clinging to my skin like molten memory. The world crashed into me all at once from the roar of destruction, the scent of burning divine silk, and the crushing pressure of fate trying to erase me.

More than a dozen Heavenly Punishments, forged into golden swords, were already descending from the sky.

They hit.

I exploded.

Flesh, bone, and soul scattered across the Summit Hall.

Yet within my Spell Resonance, etched in golden script, a single command remained.

"Divine Word: Raise."

The world rebuilt me.

The moment I returned, I sucked in a ragged breath and surged to my feet. Exalted Renewal flooded my body with power as silver-gold radiance erupted from my armor. Blessed Regeneration followed immediately, knitting flesh, repairing organs, and restoring my damaged insides.

I recast Divine Word: Life, but it didn't work.

For some reason, the Heavenly Punishments had dispelled it.

That shouldn't have been possible.

That was troubling.

Half the Summit Hall was gone, vaporized. Stone, banners, and even the remains of the dead had been erased from existence.

I looked forward. Aixin stood amidst the devastation, her body no better than mine had been moments earlier. She was burned, shattered, and bleeding silver from countless fractures, yet a few breaths and a whisper of qi were enough to restore her completely. Of course they were. But now, so was I. I reached inward, and my Divine Sense expanded outward, strengthened by the techniques the old man had engraved into my soul. I saw faith, fury, and fear swirling through the battlefield, and I saw time twisting around Aixin’s staff as causality bent to her command.

“Just die already,” Aixin spat.

I scoffed. “So you can reset everything and tighten the cage even further?”

Silver Steel rose into my grip, gleaming with holy wrath.

“No. Not today. Today's my show. And while I might not be able to kill you, I'll make damn sure you feel the pain.”

I cast Heavenly Punishment onto my blade, sacrificing one Spell Slot as Silver Steel hummed with divine authority, every swing now carrying the weight of judgment. Then I reached deeper and cast Holy Sword. A second Spell Slot disappeared, and the blade pulsed like a miniature sun, overflowing with celestial power. My arms strained merely holding it.

Aixin sneered.

“Try as you might, you will never kill me.”

“I already told you. I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to hurt you.”

I swung.

Radiant Arc ripped through the air in a blinding crescent of gold. It consumed no Spell Slot, yet empowered by the two buffs, it struck with the force of an Ultimate Skill. Mana drained from me in a violent rush.

Aixin slammed her staff into the ground, and seven barriers materialized around her, each denser than the last. I kept swinging, sending Radiant Arc after Radiant Arc crashing into the shields, only for them to vanish on contact. No explosion. No resistance. Nothing.

Aixin laughed.

“That was it? They felt so light.”

I rested Silver Steel across my shoulder.

“I haven’t started yet. Ever heard of delayed damage?”

Her smile disappeared.

I cast Judgment Severance. A golden cross-shaped rupture split the battlefield apart. The barriers flickered, cracked, and shattered as the dispelling force devoured their foundations. I charged with raw speed as I switched TriDivine into Divine Speed.

Silver Steel descended toward her face.

Aixin barely intercepted it with her staff.

“Don’t underestimate me, you worm!”

All at once, the delayed damage triggered. Every Radiant Arc I had launched earlier reappeared around her at once. They converged with Aixin as there target. Golden crescents tore through her body, opening bloody lines across flesh and raiment alike. Her body jolted under the barrage, and her expression cracked.

“Hey, here comes the second volley!” I cried out loud.

Another eruption of divine destruction burst from my blade as I drove forward, laughing directly into her bloodied face.

“In the end,” I shouted, grinning like a madman, “I might not get the last laugh—”

I raised Silver Steel high.

“—but I’m laughing right now! Hahaha!”

Three Spell Slots remained.