It wasn't a spell, this time, but a skill, usable by even non-magic classes. He needed to draw no mana much less shape it. The skill worked by intent. Glowing white runes appeared on the ground, encircling him in a clockwise formation.
When the ten-second cast time completed, the skill flashed and activated.
The fabric of space swallowed him up, chewed him around for a bit, then spat him out. It was an experience very unlike warping in Chronicles of the Seven Heaven-Tribulations, and he expected he would need to get used to that. This world was merely modeled after the game he knew, not identical to it.
He stumbled a step as he reemerged into existence. Xuanhai Imperial City's town square appeared in front of him.
Many stimuli overwhelmed him at once. The bright morning sun filled a cloudless blue sky, forcing Ling Xiao to squint as his eyes adjusted. It seemed his immense stats didn't change basic human behaviors.
Golden light washed across the stone square, illuminating a large town hall. Its bell tower rose high above the surrounding buildings, a huge clock face visible to everyone in the plaza. As if by divine timing, the massive hand ticked rightward, and the eleven o'clock bell chimed across the city.
The space bustled with townspeople: officials hurrying into the town hall with scrolls, citizens gathered around the notice boards, travelers consulting maps on benches. While humans dominated the crowd, he spotted the pointed ears of elves in conversation, and the horns of demons, too.
The world of Chronicles of the Seven Heaven-Tribulations was full of all sorts of races, though Xuanhai Imperial City was decidedly human territory, so they were by far the most common.
Colorful banners and decorative lanterns hung between buildings, and workers on ladders were stringing up even more. Several stalls were being constructed around the edges of the square as well, and there were other hints of presumably festival preparations underway. He'd arrived nearing a holiday.
Ling Xiao turned to check behind him and froze. A set of statues stood there, the centerpiece of the town square on an elevated platform. The display featured five figures.
Five figures he recognized. Because, eyes widening, he realized they were all people he knew. His regular party members, the group he'd cleared most of the game with. His friends.
Or, to this world, as he could read on the bronze plaque announcing the display: The Party of Heavenly Saints.
He gaped at the statue of himself in particular. Maybe he didn't have much to worry about when it came to being recognized, because wow. They'd gotten him horribly wrong.
The figure was clearly a male Abyssal Celestial Sovereign with curved celestial horns, but that was all they'd gotten right. The proportions were way off: the statue was only slightly shorter than the rest of the group, presenting him as nearly six feet rather than the reality of four-foot-something, and his figure was all wrong. The statue was much more…imposing and regal.
That soured his mood. Was it not heroic enough if he was short and lean? He'd designed his avatar that way for a reason, and his real-life self felt more than a bit annoyed.
He guessed it was inevitable that a group of 'legendary adventurers' would be stylized into 'perfect form'. His friends hadn't gotten the same treatment, but maybe that was because their avatars had already been impressive.
A pint-sized man who might be mistaken for a boy didn't fit the image of 'savior of the world,' so the designers had taken creative liberties. Ugh. At least it worked to his advantage. Since he'd hidden his facial runes as well, he ought to be able to walk around town without much trouble.
He still internally grumbled, though.
Somebody slammed into him from behind.
He didn't shift an inch, but it still caught him by surprise. The man bounced backward, and Ling Xiao jumped nearly a foot. He spun and backpedaled.
A man sat there on the ground, wearing a baffled expression as he looked left and right, trying to find what he'd run into.
Because right. He was invisible, standing in the middle of a populated town square.
Instincts urged him to apologize and help him up, but that would ruin his stealth mission.
He internally vocalized the incantation, but felt the command word echo in his head.
"[Fly]."
As he rose into the air, the city of Xuanhai Imperial City spread out around him. Considering the sheer amount of hours he'd put into Chronicles of the Seven Heaven-Tribulations, he had noticed that there was something off about the town square, and not just because of the statue in the center. As he gained enough height to take the city's full breadth in, he came to a realization.
This wasn't the Xuanhai Imperial City he knew.
Not only was it much larger than it should be – something he could excuse as a consequence of translating a game world into a realistic one – but fundamentally, the city's design was different. It was…more modern, he realized with a jolt. Still several hundred years behind Earth's technology obviously, but the city was cleaner and newer than he remembered, more glass and better roads.
Off in the distance was the key offender. A Celestial Thunder Caravan station with tracks snaking into the horizon, southward. There had definitely not been Celestial Thunder Caravans in Chronicles of the Seven Heaven-Tribulations.
The conclusion was obvious. Time had passed.
How much?
Enough to massively develop the city, introduce new inventions, and make rail travel common even to frontier cities like Xuanhai Imperial City. So not a few years…or even a few decades.
This was a world he was familiar with, but one that had left him behind.
He had already known he couldn't rely on his memories of the game, but that had just become doubly true.
For a while, he hovered a thousand feet in the air and took the city in.
What now?
His eyes landed on the outline of the city's temple, a grandiose structure eclipsing even the town hall and bank, two of the other prominent buildings.
The temple. That was his first stop. He needed to know if death was permanent, or if like in the game he would revive.
He ought to be close to invulnerable considering what account he was on, but knowing whether this was his only life would definitely change how he approached things.
Not just for himself but everyone else too. He didn't plan to become a mass murderer if murdering was permanent. Er…not that he would have wanted to go around slaughtering populaces anyway.
Setting down in a nearby alleyway and dropping his invisibility spell, he strode into the street. He tensed slightly as he emerged into public for the first time, but most people paid him no mind, and the few who glanced his way didn't seem to make much of him and quickly looked away.
So he was inconspicuous. As he'd hoped. Though not completely. He was an Abyssal Celestial Sovereign in a human city. But he didn't stand out to the point it would cause issues. More importantly, he wasn't being recognized as the man this city had a commemorating statue of in their town square.
Walking toward the temple's entrance, a wave of vertigo hit him from the sheer surreality of his situation. When he'd been invisible and peering around, he'd felt like a spectator. Like despite the tactile realism he was in a game still. But having people all around him, hearing snippets of their conversations as he passed by, broke the illusion.
This was his life now?
The enormity of that wasn't remotely digestible, so he did what most people would. He blocked it out and focused on the here and now. He would have a mental breakdown later he guessed.
Not that he was too upset. He hadn't been especially satisfied with his last life, and he hadn't left anyone behind besides his online friends. And, well, he would miss them. A lot. But he had been pretty antisocial, and his parents were... not around.
Nevertheless, it was a lot to take in.
Xuanhai Imperial City's Temple was a massive structure of polished white stone, with tall, arched windows of stained glass that depicted mostly unfamiliar images of saints and heroes. To his mild dismay one of the prominently displayed ones was of him and his group. The doors were open to all visitors, and inside, sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating rows of wooden pews and a long aisle leading to a grand altar.
His eyes locked onto the nearest priest dressed in coarse gray robes.
He urged his feet forward, but they didn't move.
Being reborn into the body of his character hadn't fundamentally changed his personality. What kind of person spent tens of thousands of hours grinding a popular video game to stand at the top of the leaderboards? Not social butterflies. Not someone who could gregariously elbow their way into any conversation and charm their audience.
Yet the anxiety that hit him wasn't as strong as normal. Was it because he felt comfortable in the world of Chronicles of the Seven Heaven-Tribulations? Was it because he was wearing a different body? He wasn't the old shut-in. He was Ling Xiao.
He willed himself forward and his legs obeyed.
The priest was arranging prayer candles on a side altar. He was an older man with a weathered face and kind eyes that crinkled as he glanced up at Ling Xiao's approach. If he thought anything about him being an Abyssal Celestial Sovereign, his expression didn't suggest it. His smile seemed surprisingly warm and earnest.
"How can I help you, little one?"
Little one?
He grimaced. That was why he had plastered on such a friendly expression. He thought he was a child and reacted with the appropriate gentleness.
Really? An actual child?
He sighed. It was hardly a new plight. As a young man who was neither very tall nor particularly imposing – and he was being nice to himself with that description – it was inevitable strangers mistook his age. Constantly.
It was awful. Even as a twenty-five year old, there had been plenty of instances where he had been pulled aside by people asking where his parents were. The death glare usually caught them up. His voice at least wasn't especially childlike.
It was one injection of normalcy to steady his thoughts.
But seriously? 'Little one'? He wasn't that short. Well…in real life, he wasn't. Ling Xiao, his avatar, had been designed even smaller.
Oh no.
Were people going to assume he was twelve in this body?
Repressing another sigh, he got to the point.
"I have questions I need answered, and I was hoping you could help."
The steadiness of his voice, at least, made the priest pause and visibly readjust his expectations. He wasn't sure whether he recalibrated his age in his head, but his response didn't take the same overly gentle tone.
"Of course. What ails you?"
"Is resurrection in any form possible?"
Blunt and to the point. Open-ended in the case it was a phenomenon reserved to 'players'. Though he had no idea if other players existed. At a minimum, his regular party was part of the world's lore, as was his guild.
The priest again reoriented, but this time at the unexpected question. A sympathetic look crossed his face.
He realized he thought he was asking for someone else's sake, not his own.
"Even in the age of chaos, such magic was beyond mortals," he said kindly. "Would the Heavenly Sovereign, the supreme talent of magekind, not have revived his fallen comrades if it were?"
He blinked. "The Heavenly Sovereign?"
He tilted his head. He clearly found it unusual that he didn't recognize the title. "Ling Xiao. The Heavenly Sovereign who adventured with the Party of Heavenly Saints and conquered the Seven Heaven-Tribulations."
Uh.
That was a coincidence. Then again maybe not. As he'd said, he was the highest tier spellcaster in the world, a figure of legend, so a question about high-tier magic like resurrection would easily tie back to him.
He opened his mouth and closed it.
So, dead was dead. There was no coming back.
Also, his team was deceased. They were part of the world's lore, but not alive and wandering about. He was likely the only 'player', at least as current evidence suggested.
"I see."
He was quiet as he organized his thoughts. He had a million questions, but he also didn't want to come off as too strange to this priest. Then again, did it matter? Secrecy wasn't that important. He just didn't want the whole world knowing who he was, not until he had his feet under him.
"Age of chaos?" he eventually asked.
"Pardon?"
"What is the age of chaos?"
His lips closed into a frown as he appraised him. "The age preceding the age of peace, of course. When the Heaven-Tribulations still tore through the world."
He could have deduced that, but it was better to have confirmation. The whole point of the game had been to defeat the Seven Heaven-Tribulations, and throughout the story's campaigns he had done just that.
"What happened to the Party of Heavenly Saints?"
"Have you been skipping school, little one?"
That diminutive again. He gave him a flat look. "I'm a grown adult, sir."
The priest floundered, which satisfied him somewhat. But he seemed like a decent enough person, so he didn't make a big deal out of it. He was unfortunately used to this interaction.
"My circumstances are…unusual," he said. "I don't know certain things I probably should. I would appreciate it if you humored me."
"Indeed. Yes. Of course." He smoothed his robes out, though they were perfectly straight. He was obviously gathering his thoughts. "The Party of Heavenly Saints?" he prompted.
"Please."
"Though at great cost, with all but the Heavenly Sovereign perishing in the fight, they triumphed over the seventh and final Heaven-Tribulation a hundred years ago nearly to this day. I'm sure you've seen the preparations underway?"
A century. That explained the changed city and the advancements in technology.
"For the festival?"
"Peace Day. Remembrance of our fortune, the end of the age of chaos and the advent of a kinder age. The celebration will last all week."
This next question was riskier, but he asked it anyway. "But the Heavenly Sovereign lived?"
Calling himself 'the Heavenly Sovereign' made him internally wince, but apparently it was the title people used to refer to Ling Xiao.
He nodded, and he followed up with:
"What happened to him?"
"Only the heavens know."
"Missing? But not dead?"
"His death was never confirmed."
His tone implied heavily that he thought he was gone for good. He supposed that was fair. 'Missing for a century' was synonymous with 'dead'.
"I see. Thank you for the help."
The priest seemed surprised that he was ending the conversation so abruptly, but he turned and headed for the entrance.
Out under the bright morning sky again, he came to a stop and organized his thoughts. Death was permanent. He was famous to the populace, but it had been a hundred years, and there didn't seem to be a sign of 'other players'. Even his old party was dead and gone.
Interesting…but not extremely relevant.
He didn't have a single Spirit Jade Token to his name. His next stop was the bank. From there, he had no idea. Head for Tianwu Capital and see what had happened to his guild and item stash? But that would take time. It was a medium-term goal.
Did he even have a bank account still? How had that particular game mechanic translated between worlds?