Act 1: The Dreamer

"Warning: Excessive blood loss, life-threatening—"

"Warning: Decline in cardiac and respiratory function, life-threatening—"

When Lin Fei woke up, his mind was still ringing with the high-frequency warning alarms from the fierce battle he had just experienced. The sound was like a file scraping away in his head, causing a splitting headache.

Right, he remembered he was in the game, fighting alongside the 'Divine Might' comrades in the mountainous region of Oarkash, fending off the undead army of Madara. The sky was leaden gray, and icy winds howled as countless dark creatures poured down from the jagged mountain peaks like a black tide. Tens of thousands of skeletons, necromancers hidden among the bones, and bone dragons and chilling wraiths swirling in the sky…

Surrounded and outnumbered, they were doomed.

His first reaction was to curse those incompetent fools from the Thornfire faction. Their ineptitude had led to this disaster, allowing the enemy to encircle them from behind. How utterly ridiculous!

Then he checked his condition. Surviving this was a stroke of luck, as Madara's armies were known for leaving no survivors. However, he soon frowned—this injury was far too severe. It was not just a fatal wound to his abdomen but also inflicted with corpse poison.

Wait, corpse poison?

Hadn't he already completed the Perfect Body quest? How could the Silverblood's body be affected by such low-level dark corruption? A bug? What was the official team playing at?

He didn't have much time to question this. The young man weakly coughed and struggled to sit up from the gray, dusty floor—he realized that dark corruption was a minor issue. A priest could easily dispel it. What he needed to do was to stop the bleeding quickly; otherwise, he might die from weakness. Although he wasn't a top-tier player, he was experienced enough to know how to handle these situations.

Lin Fei groaned and pushed aside a half-buried skeleton from his body. These low-level soldiers of Madara were as inconsequential to him as air—after all, it was the 44th year of the Second Era, and Madara was still summoning these lowly cannon fodder. They were nothing but a waste of soul energy. It was clear that the necromancers of Ocarthos had completely lost their brains to negative energy, failing to adapt.

He wanted to complain further, but he realized it was a struggle to push aside the skeleton. The penalties for weakness were no joke; normally, he could easily push aside a bone dragon.

When was the last time he was this weak, on the brink of death? Nearly a few months ago. The combat prowess of the Divine Might was no exaggeration. If it weren't for the incompetence of the Thornfire faction, his immortal record might have continued.

The thought made him gloomy again. The Church forces had been utterly defeated, and the forums were likely abuzz with activity.

While mulling over these trivial matters, he reached for his backpack, only to find it empty. Lin Fei stared in shock and then cursed loudly.

"Those Madara thieves!"

Cursing aside, he had to find a way to stop the bleeding. Healing potions would be ideal right now; if not, bandages would do. Such items should be plentiful on the battlefield. Generally, no one bothered with the backpacks of these cannon fodder; they were full of healing potions and bandages. He had even seen a rookie carrying a full bag of bandages before the battle.

What a joke, thinking that carrying bandages would prevent death?

He instinctively tried to stand, but when he turned over, he froze—wait, was this still the mountainous region of Oarkash?

He should have seen this scene: barren grass, exposed white rocks crisscrossing steep slopes, corpses scattered everywhere, ravens flying over the silent battlefield, and the tattered Great Light Cross banner of Gres fluttering on the mountain top. Yet the scene he imagined did not appear—

There were no howling northern winds of Oarkash, no ghostly silence walking in the mountains, nor the bone-chilling cold that could freeze the very air.

Everything seemed like an illusion. As the illusion faded, he realized he was lying on the floor of a quiet, old, and dilapidated room. The floor was made of smooth wooden planks, stained with a conspicuous patch of blood…

He stared blankly, instinctively touching his chest. A sharp pain interrupted his action. He screamed in pain, his wound was his own, and so was the blood…

But where was this place? The room's style seemed vaguely familiar. It had a main hall on the first floor, and the second floor had corridors leading to various rooms—guest rooms, kitchen, and storage below. This was clearly an old-style building from the southern region of Elruin, and it wasn't a typical commoner's residence—though old, it was clear the original owner had some status.

Elruin's south… Lin Fei found himself lost in thought.

How long ago was that? The sound of the bagpipes from the border town of Butchi felt like a distant dream. But wasn't that Madara's territory now? In his memory, Elruin had fallen long ago, during the Third Black Rose War.

"How did I end up here?"

"Wait… Butchi… Butchi." Lin Fei repeated the name.

Yes, he remembered now.

He was Charlotte, born in Bragus. He had half of the Cardille bloodline, inherited from his mother, but did not appear noble because of it. His father was a commoner, and although his grandfather had participated in the November War and received the Candlelight Medal, it was ultimately just a former knightly family with a faded glory.

No, wait!

Lin Fei's mind suddenly snapped to attention. What was all this nonsense? No, he was Lin Fei, a citizen of the People's Republic of China.

But a voice in his mind told him—

"You are Lin Fei, and also Charlotte."

A cold shiver of fear ran down Lin Fei's spine. He held his breath, realizing his memory now seemed to include something new. The memories of the young man named Charlotte flowed into his thoughts like a tidal wave, as if an uninvited stranger had barged in.

—Lin Fei's breathing became rapid, and his pupils dilated. He recalled that despairing, heart-pounding sword strike, and the terrifying pale skeletal figure.

He struggled to shake off this terrifying image, but as the memories became clearer, he grew more exhausted. His brain ached in waves, and sweat poured down his forehead.

Ah, he suddenly remembered how he ended up here—indeed, it was a fierce battle, the Church knights of Gres versus Madara. Surrounded and outnumbered, he remembered his character died at the hands of a necromancer.

After the dazzling green light of the disintegration ray, the world went dark…

That was supposed to be the game's setting; death should last twelve hours. But who could explain why a normal game death had led him to this place?

This world—

His mind was in turmoil. If there was a word to describe the chaotic thoughts in his head, it would be—absurd.

Absurd!

He realized the absurdity of what had happened to him—he had been transported!

His soul had crossed over into this world, inhabiting the body of a deceased named Charlotte!

No, it should be said that they had become one.

Lin Fei gripped the floor tightly, his knuckles numb. He looked at his hands, which were slender and pale, with a sickly hue. Despite being somewhat prepared, he was still startled. He was a citizen of the People's Republic of China, Han nationality, and should have healthy yellow-toned skin. But even though his game character had adjustments, it should not have been like this.

His heart raced, and he felt lost. He had absorbed all the memories of Charlotte's short nineteen-year life, but in another sense, he knew nothing about his current situation.

Perhaps on a soul level, he could sense the thoughts and feelings of the young man named Charlotte—

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

It was like experiencing a rebirth, reliving nineteen years of emotional journey. Everything about Charlotte was now a part of him, as if they were originally one. Yet the intertwining dreams still left him feeling disoriented.

"I am Lin Fei."

"But also Charlotte."

A wave of exhaustion surged from the depths of Lin Fei's being, spreading throughout his body. He finally exhaled deeply and gradually calmed down.

Well, since he was here, he might as well make the best of it.

Lin Fei shook his head and looked at his hands: "But with this little strength, how can I still claim to be the greatest swordsman…" He thought of Charlotte and couldn't help but laugh at himself, unexpectedly feeling a sense of relief. Leaving that world was actually a weight off his shoulders.

Yet a lightning bolt of realization struck him, and Lin Fei suddenly felt this might be another chance given to him by fate. Once this thought ignited, it spread uncontrollably in his heart.

Because he remembered something else—

It couldn't be wrong, Elruin. That was a country already fallen in the game, and the year in Charlotte's memory of blooming flowers and summer leaves was the 375th year of the First Era, while the game's history had progressed to the 44th year of the Second Era! It was like realizing one had become a prophet of sorts, a terrible shiver ran through Lin Fei.

Yes.

In this place, no one knew the current and future events of this world better than he did.

In his past life, he had been insignificant, hiding in the game to escape reality. But in this life, how should he live to make the most of his second chance?

Lin Fei found himself feeling a bit disoriented.

This was the year of blooming flowers and summer leaves, the year the First Black Rose War began. In this war, Elruin suffered a crushing defeat but subsequently embarked on a path to revival.

He was precisely a witness to this war. He remembered that was when he first entered the game world, and the first country he chose was Elruin. He was a complete novice, growing up amidst such a war.

The war began with Elruin's overwhelming defeat, only improving when the Butchis Mountain Corps arrived. Lin Fei had vivid memories of this fierce battle. He had been part of the local militia, and survival was scarce.

He was just an ordinary person, both in his past and present life. Charlotte's sword skills were nothing. During the early stages of this war, Madara's assault was textbook classic—swift and ruthless, silent and deadly. By the time this ancient kingdom reacted, its local troops had already suffered devastating losses.

On this day, Charlotte must have encountered the scouts of Madara's army. Lin Fei felt a chill run down his spine. Only by surviving could he have the chance to fulfill his ambitions.

He knew he needed to save himself first, find something to stop the bleeding. The young man clung to the handrail in the corridor, struggling to stand. Then he surveyed the room's layout, which matched his expectations—the southern Elruin architecture was familiar to him, as he had spent some of his most memorable times here.

"Elruin, I'm back again—" Lin Fei murmured softly.