Not praying for ten strings

The Night Has Come, and kermesinus moon ascends in the sky.
Hoarse whispers flow at the street corners, and brass steam machines spew out bloody mist.
Your brain is singing a hymn, eyes are chanting a melody.
Skin cracks, and flesh buds swell.
Amidst the Mist, the wall of flesh that has devoured thousands of corpses wails endlessly—
"Weep not, our players don't bite, they just want to play with you."
Annan, the lone strategist, the top player, the savior of the mist-covered continent, the leader of the Thirteen Saints, the friend of the Twelve True Gods, the king of pioneers, "the Just", the Gatekeeper of the Fourth Calamity, the uncrowned deity, advised kindly.

Super Righteous Player

This is certainly an unabashed compliment.


"…Did you come specifically to help me?"


Faced with Annan's question, the Silver Baron just smiled without answering.


The Silver Baron adjusted Annan's collar, tidied up his clothes, and said slowly, "Perhaps, I just came to mend your clothes. Otherwise, it wouldn't be decent to appear before those children like this.


"The three Sirens can transform along with you… but your clothes cannot.


"When you have the time, you might want to visit Yawen. If Yawen signs your clothes, you won't have to worry about the unromantic issue of 'lacking clothes to wear after transforming.'"


The Silver Baron even found the time to tease Annan a bit.


This time the Silver Baron had not been born from the light—in other words, the Silver Baron had not teleported here, but had been quietly following behind Annan all along.


Chapter 451 The Unrighteous God