The First Act: The Dreamer

"Warning: Excessive blood loss, life in critical danger--"

"Warning: Cardiopulmonary function declining, life in critical danger--"

When Su Fei awoke, the high-pitched warning sounds from the brutal battle still seemed to echo in his mind. They were like a file scraping back and forth across his brain, splitting his head with pain.

Right, he remembered that he had been in the game, defending the mountain region of Orkash against Madara's Undead Army alongside his comrades from Divine Might. The leaden sky howled with frigid wind, while countless dark creatures poured endlessly down from the dagger-sharp peaks, boundless as a black tide. Tens of thousands of skeletons, Liches hidden within the Sea of Bones, and bone dragons and cold, eerie Ghosts circling overhead...

They were besieged from front and rear. They were doomed.

His first reaction was to curse furiously in his mind. Those bastards from Thornfire were useless themselves, yet they had dragged their allies into the mess. They had actually let the enemy circle around to their rear. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Only then did he have the presence of mind to check his condition. Not being dead was a pleasant surprise. After all, Madara's army never left survivors. But he immediately frowned. His injuries were absurdly severe—not only had he suffered a fatal wound to his abdomen, he had also been poisoned by Corpse Poison.

Wait, Corpse Poison?

Hadn't he already completed the Perfect Body quest? How could a body of the Silver Race be affected by such low-level dark corruption? A bug? Hey, developers, what the hell were you doing?

He had little time to question it. The young man weakly coughed and struggled to sit halfway upright on the dusty floor. He realized that the dark corruption was a minor issue; all he needed was a priest to dispel it. But given his current condition, if he did not stop the bleeding soon, he would likely die of weakness. He was not a top-tier player, but he was at least a veteran. A brief examination was enough for him to understand the situation.

Su Fei groaned and casually pushed aside the Skeleton Frame pressing down on him, of which only half remained. These low-level soldiers of Madara were no different from air in his eyes, utterly devoid of any presence. Come to think of it, it was already Year 44 of the Second Era, yet Madara was still raising these low-level cannon fodder. Aside from wasting soul energy, they served no purpose at all. As expected, the undead-sequence mages of Okato had had their brains completely corrupted by negative energy. Every one of them was incapable of adapting.

He still had the energy to complain, but then he discovered that even pushing this Skeleton Frame away took considerable effort. The penalty for being in a weakened state really was no joke. Normally, he could have pushed away a bone dragon with ease.

When was the last time Su Fei had fallen into a Near Death weakened state? It had been almost several months ago. Divine Might's combat strength was no exaggeration. If not for those incompetent fools from Thornfire, his undefeated record would probably have continued indefinitely.

At the thought of this, the young man sank into gloom again. The Sanctuary forces had been utterly defeated. The forums were probably buzzing with activity by now.

As he thought about these trivial matters, he reached behind him for his backpack—but his hand met empty air. Su Fei froze for a moment, then began cursing loudly.

"Those bandits from Madara!"

Cursing would not stop the bleeding, though. A healing potion would have been ideal at a time like this, but a Bandage would do if necessary. There should have been no shortage of such things on the battlefield. Normally, no one bothered searching the bags of cannon fodder, and they were full of healing potions and Bandages. Bandages in particular—before the battle began, he had even seen a rookie carrying a whole bag of them.

What a joke. Did he think carrying more Bandages meant he wouldn't die?

He instinctively prepared to get up, but after rolling over, he froze. Wait—was this still the mountain region of Orkash?

He should have seen a scene like this: desolate weeds, exposed White Rock jutting like interlocking fangs across steep slopes, corpses strewn everywhere, ravens flying over the silent battlefield, and Grace's battered Great Cross of Light Flag fluttering atop the mountain. Yet the scene he imagined did not appear before the young man's eyes--

There was no northern wind shrieking through the mountains of Orkash all night, nor the soundless silence that moved through the mountain shadows like Ghosts. He could not even feel the bone-deep cold that could freeze a layer of dry powder from the air.

It all seemed like an illusion. When the illusion shattered, he suddenly realized that he was sprawled on the floor of a quiet, shabby, dilapidated house. The floor was made of smooth wooden planks nailed together, and a conspicuous pool of scarlet blood stained it...

He could not help freezing for a moment before instinctively touching his chest. A stab of pain interrupted his movement. The young man cried out and bared his teeth. The wound was his, and so was the blood...

But where was this place? The style of the house felt vaguely familiar. The main hall was on the first floor, while a corridor on the second floor led to the various rooms. The guest rooms, kitchen, and storeroom were on the lower level. Right, this was the architectural style of southern Eluin—and not a home that ordinary commoners could afford. Though somewhat old, the house's original owner had clearly held some status.

Southern Eluin. Su Fei was momentarily dazed.

How long ago had those memories been? The mountains of Yusong, the sound of the bagpipes in the border town of Buchi, lilting like a dream from the distant past. But wasn't that place now part of Madara's territory? In his memories, Eluin had long since fallen. Right—in the Third Black Rose War.

"How did I get here?"

"Wait..."

"Buchi... Buchi." Su Fei repeated the name of the place.

Right. He remembered now.

His name was Brando, and he had been born in Brags. Half his blood came from Cardilego, inherited from his mother, yet that noble lineage had not made him seem noble. His father was merely a commoner. Although his grandfather's generation had once taken part in the November War and received the Candlelight Medal, in the end, they were nothing more than a once-glorious knightly family.

No!

A sudden alarm surged through Su Fei's heart. What kind of nonsense was this? No, no—he was Su Fei, a citizen of the People's Republic of China.

But a voice immediately told him--

"You are Su Fei, and you are also Brando."

A sudden, icy dread crawled up Su Fei's spine. He held his breath and suddenly realized that something seemed to have been added to his memories. They were the memories of a young man named Brando, surging into his thoughts like a tide—or like an uninvited stranger barging in without permission.

--Su Fei's breathing quickened, and his pupils widened ring by ring. He immediately remembered that despairing, heart-stopping sword strike, as well as that terrifying, deathly white Skeleton Frame.

He struggled to escape the terrible scene, but as his memories filled out, he instead became utterly exhausted. His brain throbbed in waves, and sweat drenched his forehead.

Ha. He suddenly remembered how he had come here—it had indeed been one hell of a battle, the fierce struggle between the Church Knight Kingdom of Grace and Madara. Surrounded on both sides and trapped in a desperate situation, he remembered that his character had died at the hands of a Lich.

After the brilliant green radiance of Disintegrate Ray, the world sank into darkness...

That was simply how the game was designed. Death should have lasted twelve hours. But could someone explain this to him? Why had a normal death in the game brought him here?

This world--

His thoughts were a tangled mess. If there were a word to describe the only thought behind his chaotic mind, it was—absurd.

Absurd!

He already understood what an absurd thing had happened to him. He had transmigrated!

His soul had crossed into this world and entered the body of a dead man named Brando!

No, it was more accurate to say they had become one.

Su Fei gripped the floor tightly with both hands until his knuckles went numb. He looked at his hands. They were somewhat slender, and his pale skin carried a sickly cast. Although he had been mentally prepared, he still could not help being startled. He was a citizen of the People's Republic of China, of Han ethnicity and the Mongoloid race. His skin should have had a healthy light-yellow tone. Even if the game had adjusted the character's appearance, it should never have looked like this.

His heart pounded. Completely at a loss, he could say that he possessed all the memories of the original owner of this body—the entirety of his brief nineteen-year life. Yet from another perspective, he knew nothing at all about what he was facing.

Perhaps on the level of the soul, he could feel every thought of the young man named Brando--

His ideals, his obsessions; what he loved and what he hated.

It was like being reborn and then walking through nineteen years of emotional experience all over again. Everything belonging to the other person was his, as though they had originally been one. Yet when two long dreams intertwined, it still left one feeling somewhat helpless and bewildered.

"I am Su Fei."

"But I am also Brando."

A sense of exhaustion welled up from the deepest part of Su Fei's heart and spread throughout his entire body in an instant. In the end, he let out a long breath and finally calmed down little by little.

Whatever came, he would deal with it.

Su Fei could not help shaking his head before looking at his hands again. "With this little strength, you still had the nerve to call yourself the number-one swordsman..." Thinking of Brando, he gave a self-mocking laugh, yet unexpectedly felt a trace of relief. It was fine. Having left that world, he had nothing left to worry about anyway.

However, a bolt of lightning tore through the darkness. Su Fei suddenly felt that this might be another opportunity Heaven had given him. Once the thought was ignited, it spread uncontrollably through his heart.

Because he had remembered one more thing--

There was no mistake. Eluin. It was a nation that had already fallen in the game. And the Year of Flowers and Summer Leaves in Brando's memories was Year 375 of the First Era, while the game's history had already reached Year 44 of the Second Era! It was like suddenly discovering that one had become a prophet who knew the future. A terrible shudder swept through Su Fei's entire body.

Yes.

Here, no one was more familiar than he was with everything that was happening—and everything that would happen—in this world.

In his previous life, he had achieved nothing, hiding in the game to escape reality. In this life, what should he do to be worthy of his second chance at life?

Su Fei could not help feeling dazed.

This was the Year of Flowers and Summer Leaves, the year the First Black Rose War began. Eluin suffered a crushing defeat in this war, but it was also through this war that the kingdom embarked on the road to revival.

He had personally experienced this war. He remembered that he had only just begun playing the game back then, and the first nation he chose happened to be Eluin. He had been a complete novice, and it was in this very war that he had grown.

The war began with Eluin's one-sided rout. Only when the Buggs Mountain Legion arrived did the situation gradually improve. Su Fei remembered that brutal war with exceptional clarity. He had once operated alongside the Local Guard, yet fewer than one in ten had survived.

He was merely an ordinary person, whether in his previous life or this one. What did Brando's swordsmanship amount to? In the early stages of this war, Madara's surprise attack had been textbook-perfect—swift, merciless, and silent. By the time the ancient kingdom realized what was happening, the garrison in the region had already suffered an annihilating disaster.

On this very day, Brando must have encountered scouts from Madara's army. A chill suddenly rose up Su Fei's spine. He could only realize his ambitions if he stayed alive.

He understood that he had to save himself. First, he needed to find something to stop the bleeding. The young man struggled to grip the railing along the open side of the corridor and pull himself upright. Then he saw the structure of the house. It was exactly as he had imagined. The architectural style of southern Eluin felt so familiar—because he had spent some of his most unforgettable moments here.

"Eluin, I've come back again--" Su Fei could not help murmuring softly.