He fell silent for a moment. "I guess I'm alive."
The light inside the ring flickered.
War seemed to be confirming what that meant, or perhaps trying to understand the difference between "I guess I'm alive" and "I'm alive."
After a long while, that voice rang out again, softer this time—so soft it was almost inaudible. "Then... am I still me?"
Wu Heng did not answer again. He slipped the ring onto his finger, turned, and walked out of the dungeon.
The spiral staircase was long. He climbed it step by step, his footsteps echoing between the stone walls—once, once more, and once again—like a heartbeat, like a pendulum, like time growing old.
The ring on his finger gave off a dim crimson glow, faint as a fire on the verge of dying out. He raised his hand to look at it, then looked toward the battlefield still raging beyond the rift.
The world of angels and the world of demons had already descended into utter chaos.
Holy light and dark energy poured from the rift like tides, like waves, like a storm that would never cease.
A small portion of that energy carried the aura of war—the origin of slaughter, the embers of destruction. It drifted through the void, uncollected and untouched.
What a waste.
He stepped out of the Incantation platform, opened the inner folded groove of the ring representing War himself, and embedded the true War Ring within it, merging the two into one.
"Only War together with the War Ring counts as a complete trait. Hmm, it's like a set bonus in a game." Wu Heng recalled the online games he had played in his previous life.
However, the ring forged from the knight himself had already formed a connection with Wu Heng and would serve