Sylvia was a talentless impostor. She knew it. She had always known. No matter how bright the eralds of the Crowfield family shone, their glow could only reach as far as the land of Crowfield. She was not the world's chosen one, nor was she favored by fate. She survived in destruction, wandered in loneliness, and lingered on the earth with a cursed skeletal body, drenched in misfortune.
It wasn’t until she t Xu Xi that she stumbled onto the path of a sorcerer. A Sylvia like that never knew where her path lay. All she knew was to chase the light, like a moth drawn to a fla, stumbling behind Xu Xi. She followed his guidance and learned his sorcery. Sylvia wanted to keep going like that forever—but she couldn’t. The light that once gently led her forward had already vanished without a sound.
The road ahead, she had to walk alone.
At the mont she ascended to the Fifth-Ring, Sylvia chose and followed her own path. She had no life, because she was a dead soul. She had no death, because she was a survivor. Sylvia’s path rejected both the beauty of life and the ugliness of death. What remained was the purity of the soul.
"Sylvia, it takes more courage to regain the light than to endure the darkness."
"I saw that courage in your soul."
"It’s beautiful. I really like it."
Sylvia had nothing. But soone once acknowledged her soul, saying it was a holy spirit more dazzling than any biography or tale—praising her courage, her kindness, and her strength.
And so, Sylvia carved her own path. It was full of courage and faith, but also fear and hesitation. It was a rugged and painful road belonging solely to the brave Sylvia Crowfield—a path of salvation walked with nothing but a fragile soul and unwavering will.
In the chaos, countless plane worlds floated like stars in the gray, shifting void of disordered ti and space. All was silent. All kept turning. That scene was dark and heavy. So of the living fell into despair. So of the dead could not pass on.
But the false hero raised her blade high, releasing a "holy light" far more radiant than any real hero's. Warm and bright. She cut through all the pain she could see in the world.
"Master Sorcerer, I won’t let you down…" In a world of darkness and suffering, where Sylvia could no longer see any light, she chose to beco the new light herself.
One woman, one sword, one tower.
As she pursued the Endless Nether Realm, she also saved countless people who suffered just like those in the forr sorcerer world. Bit by bit, Sylvia rescued countless worlds. Bit by bit, her strength grew ever greater.
Through long years, ti stacked upon ti, her fragile soul beca even purer. She reached the end of miracles, mastering both life and death, ascending to the long-dread-of Seventh-Ring level.
Holding the "holy sword" Xu Xi had given her, shining with visible soul-born "holy light," she entered the Endless Nether Realm alone.
…
Within the Endless Nether Realm were vast soul-dominated planes. Each layer, each one, was as massive as a real living world. Chaotic and tangled, overlapping endlessly. Sylvia was focused. As soon as she entered, she followed the familiar aura of the sorcerer world and pierced through the void.
Finally, she saw it—her holand, now changed beyond recognition, but still clinging to familiar traces. Past mories, beautiful and painful, rushed into her mind.
"Father, Mother…"
"Grandpa Hansen, Grandma na…"
"Master Sorcerer…"
Tears silently slid down.
The hero who saved countless worlds could now only stand and watch the ruins of her holand, unable to change a thing. But there was still sothing she could do. Sothing only she—who had survived—could do.
In the still, dark ruins of the old sorcerer world, the clear ring of a sword being drawn echoed. In that mont, laws and order collapsed, slashed and torn apart by the holy sword.
Power to save the world. Courage that could not be extinguished.
They lifted and carried that sacred soul higher, until it surpassed all the miracles of the world.
"The breath of the mother world? How is that possible?"
Ahead of Sylvia, a humanoid form twisted out of the void, speaking in disbelief at her origin.
"No, impossible! The mother world has already beco my domain! How could there still be—"
The sharp voice suddenly cut off. As if sothing clicked in its mind. The immortal paused. That tier made of layered truths entered a state of thought and recollection that ordinary beings couldn’t understand. That simple action caused entire stretches of space to collapse.
"I see… soone who escaped long ago."
"A relative of those old fools?"
"Or maybe—"
Pretending to co to a sudden realization, its face twisted into mockery and ridicule.
"One of those pathetic insects who were willing to die just to protect others."
BOOM!!
The sky fell. The earth cracked.
The tremor of the world echoed with the rage of the hero. Sylvia drove her knight’s sword forward, forcing the immortal to retreat all the way to the edge of the world.
"Hehehe…"
"Ahahahaha…"
The weight of the sword was overwhelming. The divine tier was shaken. Though the immortal was suppressed, it still laughed with ridicule, blocking Sylvia’s strikes while recounting old mories.
"Brother and sister?"
"Close friends?"
"Or… husband and wife?"
"I miscalculated."
"I never thought that the insect I casually crushed would bring forth a new Seventh-Ring."
"What a sha you didn’t get to see how painful his death was."
Using the law of the Nether Realm, the immortal reversed the suppression and began to overwhelm Sylvia’s light. Heaven and earth lost color. Space and ti shattered. Storms tore apart everything.
That was the power of a destined death. It could bring the end to even the undead. Even a powerful Seventh-Ring would be at risk of falling under such an attack.
The immortal's mockery intensified. A newly ascended Seventh-Ring was nothing compared to its years of accumulation.
This… was the difference.
The demonic immortal laughed hideously, striking Sylvia while gloating about the thrill of destroying worlds, declaring how trading the fate of ten billion lives for its ascension was well worth it.
With each word, Sylvia's sword trembled.
"I will kill you. I swear, I will kill you!"
"No matter what it costs, I will kill you!!!"
With a hoarse throat, she let out her most furious scream.
Sylvia looked miserable, but in her eyes burned pure rage. Her blood-soaked body and clenched teeth all expressed the fire inside her.
The voices of the lost echoed in her ears.
Every word.
Every sentence.
Beca heavy kindling fueling the soul's flas.
Father and mother: "Kill… kill you… protect… Sylvia…"
The Hansens: "Miss Sylvia, you’re a truly good person."
Master Sorcerer: "Sylvia, you are my hero."
The dead could not rest. The living lived in fear.
And the one who caused all this was right in front of her—mocking the cries of humanity and describing in detail how Xu Xi was burned by scarlet flas, how his body and soul were annihilated together.
Pain.
Unbearable, tearing pain.
Grief and fury beca the heaviest foundation, paving the way for the hero’s forward charge.
"I will kill you no matter what!!!"
Her bloodshot eyes, her ragged voice, and the brilliant edge of light that sliced through the entire ruined sorcerer world all echoed in the crumbling battlefield.
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