Aeltia Continent.
Here, magic and swordsmanship coexist, with ancient legends and mysterious energies spreading across the land.
Humans, Dragons, Elves, and Xuren live together on this land, and magical creatures are as numerous as Purple Stars.
The Radiance of the Gods once shone across the entire Aeltia, but vanished six hundred years ago.
In Central Aeltia, the winds of magic beasts grew still.
It was a desolate region that neither the Erhui Marquis nor King Yaoan wished to claim or contest for development rights.
The most famous things on the Liangfeng Plain were the vicious magic beasts scattered everywhere, and the lingering Demonic Gale that had blown for years.
Most importantly.
It was close to one of the sources of every magic tide outbreak, the Juchemu Forest.
Walking here was like gambling with your life, hoping not to run into a minor magic tide.
Normally, it was a place where you might not see a single person for years.
Yet today, over a hundred robed cultivators in white appeared at once.
They activated magical shields and hurried through the withered winds.
Eventually, they stopped before a stone altar.
“Found it! The Bloodflesh Altar mentioned in the letter!”
The altar bore strong traces of artificial construction, partially hidden beneath wild grass and faded earth.
Piled atop it were mountains of magic beast corpses and fragments of human flesh.
The blood had long coagulated into a dark red-black, and the stench of decaying flesh was overpowering.
Those with weak constitutions had already started vomiting from the sight.
The cultivators endured the discomfort and searched through the pile, finally unearthing two complete human bodies.
The corpses wore the same type of long robes as the rest.
“It’s Grizza and Xilin, the cultivators who sent the message!”
Someone recognized the bodies, grief lacing their voice.
The cultivators exchanged glances, faces filled with resignation and rage even as they had expected this outcome.
“Late again!”
“Damn Undead Lord, even more despicable than the old monsters of Dingfeng Swamp!”
“Don’t worry, the corpses of the two cultivators are still intact, which means the enemy can’t have gone far!”
“Found it! There’s Hei Mo residue here!”
“Let’s chase!”
Everyone shouted in unison.
Their footsteps echoed across the Liangfeng Plain, scattering in all directions.
***
Beneath the Bloodflesh Altar, hidden by layers of demonic runes.
The undead Black Magic Lord Leaf Zhi, who was being hunted, lay as still as a corpse, blending into the dirt and sand of the plain.
He looked like a body abandoned in the wild, uncared for, without even a coffin.
“So you’re saying you’re the ‘Light God Inheritance System’, the previous Light God is dead, and you want me to be the successor?”
Leaf Zhi stared at the pale golden orb in his mental sea, full of skepticism.
The orb, sensing hope, hurried to respond.
“That’s right! As long as you do as I say, I guarantee you’ll become the next Light God within a hundred years!”
“The church hunting you above us are our people too—later they’ll be your subordinates. How’s that, amazing right?”
As it spoke, it eagerly floated toward Leaf Zhi.
At the same time, a faint blue light spread within Leaf Zhi’s mental sea.
[Is this System Binding?]
Though he had expected it.
Seeing the technology-filled interface appear, Leaf Zhi’s heart still skipped a beat.
Seven hundred years.
He had waited almost seven hundred years for a system!
Did they know what he’d endured these past seven centuries?
Even if the system was fake, his obsession with it was real!
Leaf Zhi, age 700, was a transmigrator.
And a transmigrator who had never received a system.
On an unremarkable day on Blue Star, he suddenly found himself transported to Aeltia—a dark, magical world.
After the initial thrill over magic faded.
He was forced to confront all the harsh realities of a backward magical world.
Not enough to eat, shoddy clothes, no identity, language barriers…
Even completely different values.
The cruelty and brutality of this world’s magic tore apart the beliefs he’d built in the twenty-first century.
Fortunately, human potential and adaptability always exceed expectations.
With a bit of luck, a bit of intelligence, a bit of effort, a bit of sweat, and ninety-six percent dogged luck—
Leaf Zhi ultimately survived in Aeltia.
And even lived longer than most long-lived races.
As a price.
Over these six centuries, he experienced:
Transforming from a Human into an Undead;
Falling from a legitimate magical genius to a universally reviled Black Magic Lord;
Being hunted by every church on Aeltia for 600 years…
Well, the longer you live, the more you experience.
Leaf Zhi’s reputation outside was already deeper than a pit.
But he truly was a good person.
Opposing the whole world also came with its consequences.
For example—
Right now, Leaf Zhi was being cornered by Bright Church members on a desolate plain.
His life was hanging by a thread.
He had blood feuds with both sides, yet the light orb still wanted him to subdue the enemy?
Leaf Zhi applauded in admiration.
“Great, then let’s use them as raw material for my Bone Spirit Marrow.”
The light orb immediately forgot what it was going to say.
Even with incomplete memory inheritance, it knew Bone Spirit Marrow was a precious demonic material.
Even undead creatures long dead could regrow complete skeletons with it.
Most importantly.
It required large amounts of the flesh and bone of sentient beings—definitely a prime ingredient.
The light orb shivered unconsciously.
Was this negotiation, or just wanting the enemy dead?
No wonder he was a Black Magic Lord. He wanted hundreds of lives at a word!
Its voice unconsciously lowered.
“Y-Your life force is fading quickly, only I can save you, so you don’t need to—…”
The rest of its words were cut off.
Something shifted in the mental sea, and Leaf Zhi formed an avatar, seizing the orb in his grip.
Leaf Zhi stared at it.
“No need for what?”
The light orb went silent for two seconds, then suddenly emitted a sharp scream.
“You! You—you—you! How can you do this, and even restrain me?!”
“This is my mental sea. Why can’t I do as I please?”
Leaf Zhi retorted.
He tightened his hold on the orb, feeling its futile resistance.
Seeing its struggle, Leaf Zhi roughly gauged its strength and his expression turned to scorn.
“Do the Gods always recycle the same tricks? Even this fake system is a centuries-old ruse. Still using it?”
Almost forgot.
Eight hundred years ago, Leaf Zhi had a minor incident.
He accidentally became an enemy of the Gods.
The good news: the Gods all died in the Divine War six hundred years ago.
The bad news: Gods are immortal.
As long as their followers exist, the hope of resurrection remains.
So, every few centuries, a God nearing revival would attempt to possess his body.
Wanting a system cheat was Leaf Zhi’s obsession as a transmigrator.
But every attempt to seize his body used this same script.
Only a fool would fall for it!
“Forget it, I’m done playing!”
Leaf Zhi suddenly said.
The blue light shattered, tearing away the system’s false mask.
A surge of light burst between Leaf Zhi and the orb.
The orb realized its power was draining rapidly.
It struggled harder, terror growing.
“What are you doing?!”
“Obviously, sending you back where you came from. Dead Gods shouldn’t dream of resurrection!”
A wicked smile twisted Leaf Zhi’s lips.
“Times have changed! No one needs Gods anymore, you old relics!”
He squeezed the orb, accelerating the transfer of power.
The light grew brighter.
Three seconds later.
A faint, translucent thread appeared between the man and the orb.
Looking at the still orb trapped in his hand, Leaf Zhi’s heart sank.
Disconnect!
It’s not the Light God?