novelraw Chapter 204 : Shoreguards’ Ballad, Clearance
Chapter 204 : Shoreguards’ Ballad, Clearance
Chapter 204: Shoreguards’ Ballad, Clearance
The so-called "Mental Image World" was the manifestation of the mind, a world constructed purely by the spirit.
It was intricately linked with the material world, overlapping in countless ways, yet existing independently.
To put it plainly—in the material world, no matter how much havoc Rast caused within his own Mental Image World… the cultists remained completely oblivious.
The cultists had no idea what kind of horrific torment the godly will of their so-called Supreme Lord was subjected to within Rast's Mental Image World—how it was shut behind doors and beaten like a dog, molded into various shapes, utterly crushed and ravaged beyond recognition.
The cultists were unaware, and so too were the viewers waiting in the stream room.
In their eyes, the Descent Ceremony had been completed, and immediately after, there was a great commotion—void shattered, earth trembled, heavens collapsed…
And then… nothing more.
【What’s going on? Wasn’t the Descent Ceremony completed?】
【So where’s the descent? Where’s my massive evil god avatar?】
【Stop it. The descended evil god avatar has already been devoured in one bite by Little Ferret Gummy (tragic)】
【I finally understand now—this Little Ferret Gummy isn’t some fanatical cultist in reality at all, but the evil god itself.】
【Anyone capable of directly devouring a descended evil god avatar could only be another evil god, right?】
The bullet comments in the stream room once again began flooding the screen in a frenzy.
……
And atop the altar of the cult’s headquarters, Rast, who had kept his eyes tightly shut, now slowly reopened them.
In his eyes, the flickering flame that had been leaping and burning gradually subsided, finally fading into nothingness.
Within the spiritual world, the hunt of a human upon a divine soul had come to an end.
If one were to give a brief summary of the events that had just transpired in Rast's Mental Image World, it would probably be—
"Good boy, behave, let me take a look!"
"No!"
(removes glasses, breaks seal)
"Let me take a look! (echoing voice)"
……
Compared to the desperate life-or-death struggle within the Nether Abyss last time, when Rast fought the remnant soul of the Old Death God that had reawakened within Akxia—
This time, the hunt for the Deep Blue Port evil god’s soul fragment in his own Mental Image World was undoubtedly far more relaxed and composed.
Firstly, because in the Nether Abyss, Rast had faced the main body of the Old Death God. That remnant soul, revived from long extinction, had no path of retreat left—it could only gamble everything in a deadly struggle against Rast.
But this time, the Deep Blue Port evil god he hunted was merely a split fragment, a wisp of divine will that had pierced through the Threshold of Seraphim to descend… Losing this soul fragment was undoubtedly painful for the Deep Blue Port evil god, but since it didn’t involve the main body, the god naturally lacked the desperation for an all-out battle to the death.
From start to finish, this wisp of divine will did nothing but flee frantically, trying to break through the barriers of Rast’s Mental Image World and escape back to the Threshold of Seraphim. Even if it could bring back a tiny piece, even a slight reduction in loss would be worth it.
Unfortunately, every attempt at fleeing ended in total failure. The divine will, split into thousands of threads fleeing in all directions, was seized one by one by Rast’s massive hand.
Grasped, then instantly refined.
Secondly, it was because the Mental Image World projected by Rast’s mind at this moment—compared to when he was in the Nether Abyss—had become completely different.
The death match in the Nether Abyss, and the battle atop the Fractured Coastline, had both allowed his soul to undergo yet another transformation.
Just as Xiao Ai, Dean Silver, and Shiltina had all sensed…
The current Rast, compared to his past self who had been trapped within the Nightworld Remnant of Deep Blue Port, had become more human—less of that machine-like cold detachment.
Yet, even though he had chosen to embrace humanity, Rast now possessed a mind capable of unleashing power far greater than his mechanical self ever could.
Humanity might have its weaknesses, but often, it could erupt with a brilliance more intense and dazzling than any beastly instinct.
“So, this is part of the Deep Blue Port evil god’s remnant soul?”
“Interesting.”
A faint gleam flickered in Rast’s eyes.
One could only say—godhood was indeed godhood.
Even those false gods who had fled in panic to the Threshold of Seraphim after the fall of the Age of Gods, beings who were no different from prisoners… the secrets they knew were far beyond what Rast could comprehend.
After all, as the saying goes—give someone a hundred thousand years, and even a pig could ascend to godhood.
As ancient existences that had survived since the Age of Gods, having lived for tens of thousands of years, these evil gods, just by casually revealing a few gold coins' worth of information, could offer intel of immense value to humankind.
“So, this journey back to Deep Blue Port… can be considered concluded now.”
Rast smiled slightly.
Back then, it was only with Shiltina’s assistance that he managed to blow up the entire Iron Cross Clan in a massive explosion, causing the Deep Blue Port evil god to lose its Descent Vessel and physical container… thus preventing its descent.
But this time, what Rast had accomplished was undoubtedly more flawless.
He had cleared the challenge entirely on his own, without relying on any external help… and the changes he made to the original plot were far more significant.
From merely preventing the descent, it had evolved into singlehandedly strangling the descending evil god's half-body in its cradle—devouring it clean and leaving nothing behind.
As for the top scoring requirement in the Time-Limited Event “Shoreguards’ Ballad,” he had undoubtedly achieved it—and was leagues ahead of the second place.
Thinking thus, Rast stepped out of the altar.
He ignored the puzzled and hesitant gazes of the cultists and their henchmen, walked straight through the doors, and emerged outside the building.
The long night had passed. The sun had just risen, casting light over the gray sky.
Sunlight filtered through the window panes into the quiet manor, driving out darkness and shadow alike.
The moist sea breeze blew in from outside the windows, brushing against Rast’s face and mingling with the sunlight, carrying a gentle warmth.
If one listened closely, one could even hear the distant, faint sound of ocean waves carried in the wind.
It was a beautiful, tranquil morning… a morning that belonged solely to Deep Blue Port.
Rast had experienced this morning countless times before, familiar with every detail.
But the past him had been trapped within the time loop of that forsaken hell, the vortex of despair. Back then, all Rast could think about was how to clear Deep Blue Port and escape from this damned inferno…
Every morning he lived through was soaked in blood and terror—either having just slaughtered cultists inside their manor with blood on his hands, or locked in a gunfight at the Steam Factory in the harbor district with the stationed naval marines.
Rast had never once had the mindset to savor such a simple yet peaceful morning as he did now.
In truth, the air of this city was not so suffocating.
It was a good season—late summer, early autumn, with a pleasant climate. Deep Blue Port was, in fact, a beautiful seaside city with blue seas and skies, and bountiful catches.
If Rast were not a traveler of the Nightworld, a passerby of Historical Echoes, but just an ordinary tourist visiting here, then perhaps he could have enjoyed a wonderful vacation on the sandy beaches by the sea.
He wandered the streets of this harbor town in the early morning, watching time pass and the sun rise, as the once quiet streets gradually came alive…
Streams of people crossed paths beside him.
Some of them Rast could call by name. He even knew the names of their wives and children, their deepest secrets—these were connections he had built during those hundred thousand loops.
Some people, Rast found merely familiar but had never gotten to know deeply. After all, Deep Blue Port housed over a hundred thousand people. Even having spent three hundred years here, it was impossible for Rast to know every resident deeply. Naturally, there would still be many vaguely familiar strangers.
But whether it was an old acquaintance he once drank with at a tavern in some loop… or just a familiar-looking stranger, Rast did not pause his steps for any of them.
He merely wandered aimlessly through the streets and alleys of this city, quietly savoring this peace—without the Iron Cross Plague, without any contaminants, and without the threat of an evil god’s descent… an indescribable serenity.
Returning once again to this place, Deep Blue Port, where he had once fought a thousand times, Rast couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when he noticed the silhouettes on the street gradually dissolving.
The bustling crowds, the scenery of Deep Blue Port… everything was slowly fading away, converted into streams of 0s and 1s—electronic signals that could no longer be touched.
The illusionary scene quietly unraveled. In the virtual world constructed from 0s and 1s, only lines of deep blue text remained.
It was the system announcement from the game “Shoreguards’ Ballad.”
【Congratulations, player ID “Little Ferret Gummy”】
【You have achieved a score of 100000 in the game’s Time-Limited Challenge Event “Echo of Deep Blue Port,” currently ranking first on the event leaderboard among all players】
【This Time-Limited Event will end in 2 hours and 14 minutes, and the rankings will be finalized at that time】
【At that time, official personnel from our game company will contact you offline using the real-world address and iris identification information you provided, and distribute the leaderboard rewards for this challenge event.】
【Please pay attention to real-world contact notifications】
……
Staring at the lines of crisp, azure-blue system prompt text before him,
That sense of déjà vu in Rast’s mind grew even stronger.
He waved a finger and opened the system menu of “Shoreguards’ Ballad,” then selected the logout option at the bottom.
Apparently, even though it was still one of those “full-dive virtual reality games that swept the globe in 20XX,” the game company behind “Shoreguards’ Ballad” lacked the same level of showmanship—it didn’t go so far as to remove the “logout button” entirely just to make a scene.
Well, fair enough. After all, the developer of “Shoreguards’ Ballad” was Grey, that little one he personally nurtured. Her moral standards were still reasonably high—she wouldn’t go so far as to create a death game plot.
Rast’s consciousness withdrew from the virtual world built of 0s and 1s and returned to the real world.
He sat up from the soft, clean bed and reached up to remove the gaming helmet from his head.
What greeted his eyes was an unfamiliar ceiling.
Beside him, Dean Silver was squatting by the computer desk, sipping Happy Water through a straw while watching a livestream room flooded with bullet comments, giggling gleefully.
“Hahahaha, serves you right for looking down on Little Ferret Gummy. Bet you all got slapped in the face at light speed, huh?”
“I just love watching these guys kneel down and grovel in record time, hehehehe…”
“So weak. Seriously, you guys are weak. Now do you finally get who’s boss? Still want to argue over whether Rast likes cats or ferrets?”
Watching the bullet comments flood the screen and Dean Silver’s commentary alongside it,
Rast didn’t even need to think—it was already clear what had transpired.
One could only say, Dean Silver was indeed Dean Silver. No matter which world she was in, she never failed to fulfill her role as the comic relief and tsukkomi.
“Oh, Little Rast, you’re back out.”
Apparently noticing that Rast had awakened and was looking her way, Dean Silver waved a tiny paw and sheepishly closed the livestream tab.
“So, how’d your exploration of ‘Shoreguards’ Ballad’ go?”
“Judging by the look on your face, it’s probably not just an ordinary virtual reality game, huh?”
She withdrew that trollish demeanor she had used while flaming commenters online, her expression growing slightly more serious.
“Yeah.”
Rast nodded.
If “Shoreguards’ Ballad” were truly just a standard virtual online game, then no matter how high its technical sophistication, the Deep Blue Port evil god within would certainly be nothing more than a fictional in-game boss.
However, based on Rast’s own recent experience, the truth was clearly different—that evil god’s remnant soul was no simulated boss conjured by game code, but a genuine half-body of a real evil god.
A game-generated boss wouldn’t know secrets that not even Rast himself knew.
Rather than calling “Shoreguards’ Ballad” a highly advanced virtual reality game, it would be more accurate to call it a medium—or an interlinked platform.
Though players entered through “gaming helmets,” the game’s instances were all actual fragments of history, reflections of the past—the so-called virtual game was merely a facade, designed to make it palatable to players.
Its underlying principle was identical to that of the Nightworld.
“It seems now that this ‘Shoreguards’ Ballad’ is the prototype of the Nightworld—still incomplete, still flawed, but undeniably the early form of the Nightworld.”
Rast paused slightly in his words.
He thought again of that little grey-haired girl in Frozenwater Town, with emerald-like green eyes and the timid demeanor of a young beast.
According to the intel, “Shoreguards’ Ballad” had been developed by her.
“So, it really all ties back to you… and you’ve finally reached this step, haven’t you?”
“Little Grey…”