Chapter 52: The Wind God's Final Poem

“Everyone, if you would be so kind as to step back behind me~” The voice, clear and melodious as a young boy’s, sliced through the cacophony of the battlefield.

It cut through the guttural roars of the undead, the concussive blasts of spells, and the sharp clang of steel on bone, reaching every ear with unnerving precision.

Every single person, from Zhao Shihao who was unleashing a furious barrage of attacks to Wang Lei who was desperately holding the line with his shield, couldn’t help but freeze.

Their heads turned in unison, seeking the source of that strangely calm voice.

Their eyes landed on the mysterious Priestess, the one who had been sheltered at the rear the entire time.

She was still clad in that comically ill-fitting green outfit, complete with the matching green hat.

She took a single step forward, moving out from under her younger sister’s protection.

Her beautiful face wore an expression that was impossible to categorize—a bizarre fusion of grim determination, the kind one sees before a final, desperate charge, and a soul-deep weariness that screamed, ‘I really, really wish I could just die right now.”What is she doing?’ A massive question mark materialized in Zhao Shihao’s mind.

This eccentric Priestess had been acting bizarrely ever since she’d made them all fly.

What fresh madness was this?

“Listen to her!” Selene was the first to react.

She retreated without a shred of hesitation, her voice booming across the square.

“Everyone, fall back!

My sister is about to use her ultimate!” “Her ultimate?” The term, ripped straight from a video game, hung in the air, stunning everyone for a beat.

But its meaning was terrifyingly clear.

She was about to unleash a tide-turning, game-changing ultimate skill.

Wang Lei’s reaction was the fastest.

His combat instincts screamed at him to trust the woman who had effortlessly carried them through the sky, no matter how strange she was.

He slammed his shield into the face of an advancing ghoul, sending it reeling, and roared, “Rising Sun Squad, full retreat!

Form up on her!” His team members moved as one.

The Assassin disengaged with a clean backflip, while the Order Mage and Priest fell back in perfect sync.

Zhao Shihao’s squad was a half-step behind.

“What kind of damn trick is this?” he cursed under his breath.

But seeing Wang Lei’s people already moving, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and give the order.

“We’re pulling back, too!” Mo Chen, his door-sized greatsword held at the ready, and the Ice Mage, Jiang Xue, silently withdrew, repositioning themselves near Celeste.

In a matter of seconds, the eleven survivors who had been scattered across the plaza converged, forming a tight, defensive circle with Celeste standing serenely at its heart.

The ground they had just abandoned was instantly swallowed by a tide of undeath.

Skeletons with rusted blades, shambling zombies with slack jaws, and gaunt ghouls with grasping claws… The dense horde pressed in, their hollow eye sockets and rotting faces now just inches away.

The cloying, thick scent of the grave threatened to suffocate them all.

“Hey!

Are you going to do this or not!” Zhao Shihao bellowed, watching a skeletal claw scrape against the air just shy of his face.

“If you don’t use that ultimate of yours right now, we’re going to be torn to pieces!” Celeste fought the overwhelming urge to turn around and slap the man’s mouth shut.

‘Whatever,’she thought, a wave of resignation washing over her.’I’ve already cosplayed as a dude in a green hat in front of all these people.

What’s a little more humiliation at this point?'[Ding!

Congratulations to the Host for further comprehending the essence of Joy: “The Joyful One Enters the Fray.” Elation Coins +648]’Shut up!

I knew you were doing this on purpose, you piece of crap system!’She ruthlessly suppressed the burning shame, silently chanting her personal mantra:’As long as I’m not embarrassed, the one who’s embarrassed is everyone else.’ With a deep breath, she slowly raised her hands.

In that instant, she was no longer the lazy, unmotivated Priestess.

She was the singer of the wind, the poet of the sky.

A tempest of emerald-green Anemo energy erupted from her, a violent, rampaging torrent filled with the raw power of destruction.

It was nothing like the gentle currents that had lifted them into the air before.

“Don’t even think about getting away, okay?” A light, airy whisper, seemingly from another dimension, echoed directly in everyone’s minds.

Then, as they all stared, a gorgeously crafted, azure longbow materialized from thin air in her hands.

“Wait, isn’t she a Priest?” the Assassin from the Rising Sun Squad blurted out, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“What now?” Zhao Shihao’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Celeste could feel her cheeks burning hot enough to fry an egg.

A pink-haired Priestess, wearing tight green shorts, holding a bow, and drawing it back like an archer… The mental image was so “beautiful” she didn’t dare dwell on it.

She just wanted this to be over.

Fast.

“Song of the Wind God—Minimum Output!” A tiny, fist-sized singularity of pure emerald energy blinked into existence in the center of the undead sea before them.

The next second, it imploded.

An irresistible, world-breaking suction force erupted from the singularity’s core.

Wooooosh— The world seemed to lose all sound, replaced by the deafening roar of a nascent hurricane.

The dozens of undead closest to the epicenter didn’t even have time to struggle.

They were instantly torn apart, crushed, and pulverized into a fine mist of dark energy and bone fragments, which was then greedily devoured by the eye of the storm.

Then came the rest.

Whether they were slow-moving zombies, sword-wielding skeletons, or the gargoyles circling overhead, they were all as helpless as dust motes caught in a gale.

An invisible, colossal hand seemed to seize them, dragging them inexorably toward the constantly spinning, ever-expanding emerald vortex.

CRACK!

CRUNCH!

SNAP!

The sound of countless bones being squeezed, shattered, and ground together merged into a single, high-pitched shriek that set everyone’s teeth on edge.

Within moments, a terrifying tornado with a diameter of over thirty meters had fully formed in the plaza.

It was an emerald meat grinder, indiscriminately pulling every undead creature in its vicinity into its swirling maw and tearing them to shreds.

At that moment, no one could even think to breathe.

Their minds were utterly blank.

It was pure, unadulterated shock, a primal awe that struck them to the very soul.

This wasn’t a skill.

This was divine punishment.

This was a power far beyond the grasp of mortals.

Zhao Shihao’s mouth hung agape, his eyes looking like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

The explosive strength he was so proud of was nothing more than a child’s firecracker compared to this emerald-green cataclysm.

Wang Lei’s face was a mask of pure, slack-jawed astonishment.

But just as they were all rendered speechless by the apocalyptic scene, something happened that truly shattered what was left of their sanity.

A huge, translucent, and impossibly gorgeous phantom materialized in the air directly above Celeste.

It was the promotional video, the in-game cutscene for Venti’s ultimate ability.

The green-clad Bard in the phantom elegantly strummed his lyre-bow, a backdrop of crystal-clear blue skies and drifting Cecilia flowers appearing behind him.

To make matters even more absurd, a clear, melodious boyish voice rang out, its cheerful tone somehow drowning out the roar of the storm itself.

“Think you can get away?” Celeste: “!!!” A volcanic eruption of blood rushed to her head, her cheeks flushing a shade of crimson that could rival a stoplight.

She had the sudden, overwhelming urge to simply lie down and die on the spot.

‘What the hell is this?!

A social death ultimate that comes with its own BGM and cutscene?!’ She thought her skin had been thickened to the point of invulnerability, but the system had once again found a new, new way to make her vision go dark with sheer mortification.

Everyone else’s brain completely stalled.

One second, they were trembling before a world-ending power.

The next, an unbelievably massive, exquisitely animated Bard PV was forcibly injected into their field of vision.

The two completely different, yet equally overwhelming, shocks brutally tore their perception to shreds.

Zhao Shihao stared dumbly at the ridiculously flashy phantom in the sky, then back at Celeste, whose expression had already crumbled into one of pure despair.

He felt his entire worldview being repeatedly run over by a truck.

A strange, twisted look crossed his face—the look of a man who desperately wanted to laugh but was too stunned to do so, causing his facial muscles to twitch violently.

“Heh…” The female Assassin behind him made a strangled noise, as if someone were squeezing her throat.

She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

The Priestess of the Rising Sun Squad bit her lower lip so hard it threatened to bleed, her eyes wide and round—half from awe, half from the physiological tears that come from holding back a tidal wave of laughter.

Even the perpetually stoic swordsman, Mo Chen, turned his face away slightly, the corners of his tightly pursed lips twitching upwards against his will.

Selene stared at the unbelievably flashy phantom hovering over her sister’s head, then at her sister’s ‘just let the world end’ expression, and nearly choked.

She hastily summoned her shield, hiding her face behind the golden light of Immovable Mountain.

Muffled, out-of-tune, and utterly deranged-sounding giggles echoed from behind it.

“Wh-what is this… a post-purchase service demonstration for the skill?” Wang Lei stammered.

In all his years, he had never, ever seen a skill that came with its own animated PV.

The Venti in the phantom continued to leisurely pluck his strings, the background music ethereal and pleasant.

His carefree demeanor created a bizarre and powerfully jarring contrast with the gruesome scene of undead being shredded into paste below.

The phantom Bard even had the audacity to wink at them.

Celeste was now absolutely certain: this garbage system derived its primary source of entertainment from her social death.

She finally understood why Venti was always saying “Ehe”—faced with a world this absurd, what other expression could you possibly make?

Thankfully, the fatal phantom only lasted for about a dozen seconds before it began to fade.

Before it vanished completely, it left them with a lingering farewell.

“Time to go!

But the wind will remember this journey…” “WHAT ARE YOU ALL STILL STANDING THERE FOR?!” Celeste’s roar, though weak, was filled with enough urgency to snap everyone out of their perception-shattered stupor.

She felt completely hollowed out—half from the massive mana drain, and half from the soul-crushing shame.

“The storm won’t last much longer!

Get into the church, now!” Their minds rebooted.

They only just realized that the green-clad Priestess who had unleashed “divine punishment” had, at some point, reverted to her original pink-haired form.

Her face was ashen, and her body swayed precariously, looking as if a stiff breeze could knock her over.

“Quick!

Charge!” Wang Lei was the first to move.

He hefted his shield and bellowed, “Protect her!

Everyone, into the church!” No further orders were needed.

Everyone surged forward.

As they passed Celeste, however, they all did their absolute best to stifle their laughter.

Zhao Shihao’s shoulders were shaking so hard he looked like he was having a seizure.

They turned their backs on the still-raging emerald storm and made a final, desperate charge for the church doors, now tantalizingly close.

Selene rushed to her sister’s side, draping one of Celeste’s arms over her shoulder and practically dragging her forward.

“Sis!

Are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

“I’m fine… just a little… dizzy…” Celeste’s vision was darkening in waves, the world spinning around her.

“And… I never want to hear the words ‘journey,”poetry,’ or’wind’ ever again for the rest of my life…” That single “Song of the Wind God” had nearly obliterated her stamina and mana, forcibly ending the Venti trial card.

The damage to her dignity, however, was incalculable.

‘My god,’she thought weakly.’The price of being cool… is way too damn high…’ As they reached the entrance, Wang Lei and Mo Chen put their shoulders to the heavy wooden doors, pushing with all their might.

Creeeeak— With a sharp, grinding protest, the door swung inward, releasing a breath of air far colder, older, and more malevolent than anything they had faced outside.

“Get in!” One by one, they scrambled through the opening without hesitation.

Selene, supporting the semi-conscious Celeste, was the last one to stumble across the threshold.

The very moment her foot cleared the doorway, the colossal green storm behind them finally exhausted its energy and collapsed into nothing.

BANG!

Wang Lei and Mo Chen threw their combined weight into the door, slamming it shut.

The roars of the few remaining undead were instantly cut off.

The world was finally, blessedly, quiet.

[Elysian’s Note: Having a good time with the story?

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