Life Game In Other World
Chapter 1229: Sparrow Behind? (Big - for Monthly Votes)

Chapter 1229: Chapter 1229: Sparrow Behind? (Big Chapter for Monthly Votes)

"I would never... tell you..."

Wistain curled his lips, his voice hoarse as he spoke.

In the darkness, the starlight connecting Heaven and Earth flickered—spreading from the outer reaches inward, shattering bit by bit. Behind He Ao, the corpse of the "Wistain" who’d been fighting him all this time began to dissipate at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Wistain lifted his head and hesitated. He fixed his gaze on He Ao as though he wanted to ask something, but couldn’t bring himself to speak. His lips parted slightly, words lingering at the edge of his mouth.

"You want to ask—how I knew the one fighting me wasn’t your real body? How I figured out your real body was hiding far away?"

He Ao smiled at him and softly asked.

Wistain’s eyes widened, his head trembling slightly as if he wanted to nod. His gaze brimmed with a mix of excitement and disbelief that He Ao would voluntarily reveal this. A flicker of hope flashed in his expression.

He Ao lowered his head, leaned closer, and with a grin said, "Take a guess."

Wistain’s gaze froze, his eyes instantly widened.

The truth was, He Ao had found out it wasn’t Wistain’s real body fighting him using a very simple method.

The Super Memory markers could not be placed on his opponent.

At that moment, he realized that the "Wistain" fighting him either possessed some kind of special Blessing that rendered his Soul impervious to interference, or that he simply didn’t have a Soul at all—being merely a manifestation of force.

Later, in his battle with the Shadow, understanding its nature pushed him further toward the second conclusion.

The "Wistain" in the spotlight was akin to some kind of clone—a presence with flesh and blood, capable of transforming into shadows and mimicking the characteristics of a normal Transcendent. It might even be tied to certain mystical indicators of the real Wistain.

But in essence, this "Wistain" was also a type of special "Shadow," a puppet conjured by the real Wistain through some obscure method.

This theory sounded fantastical, but as He Ao’s strength grew, he’d come to realize that in this bizarre and eerie world, anything was possible.

Thus, as he became increasingly convinced of this possibility, He Ao began deliberately searching for the real Wistain’s body nearby.

He’d considered that Wistain might, as He Ao had done in the Main World, use intangible connections to directly control his clone across vast distances.

However, the agility and seamless ability use of the "Wistain" clone, as well as ceremonial elements during the fight, led He Ao to dismiss that notion.

He Ao had some experience with clones himself. When controlling them in the Main World without allowing his Soul to descend into the clone, every action carried a certain "lag."

The farther the distance, the greater the lag. Although He Ao’s combat instincts and predictions largely compensated for this lag,

those predictions had distinctive "visible markers." Not every move could be perfectly anticipated, which exposed moments where an enemy changed tactics while the clone was still executing an old counter.

Of course, these flaws could be corrected in split seconds, often without affecting combat rhythm, but still revealing the presence of clone "lag."

Wistain’s clone exhibited no such predictive lag.

And Wistain’s Soul hadn’t truly descended into the clone either.

This meant one of two things: either Wistain was exceptionally skilled and could predict all of He Ao’s moves, or Wistain was nearby, using a clone-control technique that required close proximity.

This fit with some of He Ao’s mystical knowledge.

Following this hypothesis, He Ao searched extensively for Wistain but found nothing.

Using Chaos Art, he tried sensing nearby presences.

Then he realized Wistain had likely estimated the effective range of the Chaos Magic Wand and deliberately kept his real body outside it.

At that point, He Ao resorted to "killing the clone," hoping to lure out Wistain’s true form.

His injuries during the fight became a useful advantage.

He intentionally concealed the strength remaining in his right arm, making it appear entirely incapacitated during the battle, to mislead Wistain.

Of course, his right arm was indeed heavily injured and lacked much strength.

But though his arm lacked power, his Divine Sense didn’t.

Using Divine Sense to control the Chaos Magic Wand, combined with his arm’s remaining strength, he managed to impale Wistain’s true body in a surprise attack from behind.

He Ao hadn’t anticipated Wistain’s true body being so weak.

His initial plan was to use the attack to restrain Wistain, quickly withdraw his blood-drenched blade, and then capitalize on Mental Disturbance to finish him off.

But to his surprise, Wistain had been pierced through effortlessly.

Apparently, Wistain’s seemingly formidable clone skills weren’t as perfect as they seemed—the clone siphoned away so much power that the real body was left vulnerable.

Naturally, He Ao had no intention of explaining all this to Wistain.

Despite Wistain’s strong physical fitness, he couldn’t survive long with his energy circuits shattered.

He Ao tilted his head slightly, gazing at Wistain’s face.

In Wistain’s stunned and furious expression, there was still an underlying hint of gleeful spite.

Clearly, He Ao withholding an answer balanced out Wistain’s refusal to answer his own question, maintaining some twisted sense of fairness.

He Ao paid no mind to Wistain’s expression and continued asking, "Why have you infiltrated the Federation military? What’s your real goal?"

Wistain stared at He Ao, the malice on his face overshadowing his surprise. Hoarsely, he parted his lips, "You... guess..."

"I don’t need to guess,"

He Ao shook his head, fixing his gaze on Wistain. "I already know."

Then he leaned down, his mouth pressed near Wistain’s ear, his voice hoarse and tinged with anger as he whispered, "My father spared you years ago. Why couldn’t you spare him? What did he ever owe you? You did all this just to climb higher?"

The vivid Ruby Staff spun violently, shredding Wistain’s body bit by bit.

Wistain’s eyes opened wide in shock, his expression twisting from confusion to astonishment, then to dread and fear. "How did you..."

No further words escaped his mouth, as intense pain contorted his features and silenced his voice.

He Ao let go, lightly pushing Wistain aside as he withdrew the Chaos Magic Wand and slowly stepped back.

Bang—

The starlight scattered around them shattered in an instant. Wistain lifted his hand, looking at He Ao. Eyes wide, he clutched his blood-gushing chest with one hand and stretched the other desperately toward He Ao, stepping forward.

It seemed he wanted to make a final, dying struggle—or perhaps he wanted to grasp He Ao, to question him about that whispered revelation.

But ultimately, he didn’t complete that step.

Drip—

A crystal die rolled across the ground, landing in front of him.

Fixing his gaze on the crystal die, realization struck him. He reached out, attempting to grab it, but his own body betrayed him. He collapsed forward uncontrollably, kneeling before the crystal die.

Fresh blood flowed from his chest, dripping onto the soil before the crystal die.

It resembled blood-red tears.

A blood-drenched foot stomped into mud mingled with blood, and the figure gripping the bloody blade returned to stand before Wistain.

The radiant starlight veiling the Firmament shattered in that moment, brilliant light stretching out from the horizon to illuminate the crimson land.

The fighters across the battlefield lifted their heads toward the Firmament.

The shadowed sky now paled, dawn’s radiance emerging from distant mountain peaks.

He Ao bent forward, extending his blood-stained right hand to lightly pinch the die between his fingers.

Clap, clap, clap—

Crisp applause rang out behind him, sharp enough to sting the ears.

"Marvelous, marvelous! What a stirring tale of vengeance for the father, Suote."

—

Northern Gate

On the hillslope, armored units crawled slowly upward as dense gunfire echoed through the narrow valley.

At the moment dawn’s light descended once more, the flowing blood began to congeal. Combat, briefly paused by the radiant starscape, erupted anew.

Gunfire grew louder. Flames surged in intensity. The counteroffensive from the valley swelled increasingly fierce—the fuse of battle now on the verge of igniting with destructive fervor.

In that instant, though, some message seemed to ripple through the military ranks. Their movements lost cohesion, even gunfire grew sporadic.

Soon, one of the units ceased advancing entirely, its gunfire falling silent.

Following this, like toppling dominoes, neighboring units came to halts one by one.

Very quickly, all troops scattered across the hillslope froze in place.

The raging flames of war extinguished in that moment.

In the wake of this pause in the attack, the valley defenders still fired reflexively. But noticing no return fire, their shooting too swiftly ceased.

Right then, a pitch-black Hell Apostle Mecha emerged from the Mercenary Corps’ ranks, slowly flying into the air and hovering above.

The artillerymen within the valley instinctively moved to operate electromagnetic cannons to shoot down the mecha.

Just then, Orey standing beside them raised his hand, signaling them to hold.

Nearby, Xiya likewise stopped the soldiers around her from engaging.

Nevertheless, all cannon barrels focused on that mecha.

Everyone watched it glide steadily across the sky toward the Northern Gate, finally coming to rest just two hundred meters from the gate.

Then the mecha descended slowly, landing on the ground.

The cockpit opened, revealing a man wrapped in a fur coat now visible to the Wilderness Wanderers at the Northern Gate.

"Dad?"

Xiya’s eyes widened at the sight of the man who’d abruptly appeared.

—

Downhill

He Ao turned away from the dawning light behind him and looked back.

An elegant man dressed in a pure white suit appeared within He Ao’s field of view.

"Dailot?"

He Ao gazed at the man in the white suit and rasped with a laugh, "Looks like you’re quite lucky."

"Not exactly lucky,"

Dailot clapped his hands and smiled, "Who doesn’t have a little trick for saving their own skin?"

He raised his head, glancing at the light-filled heavens above. "The thing up there packs quite a punch. If I were any slower, I might’ve stayed up there forever."

He sighed lightly and spread his hands. "What a pity, though—my carefully cultivated cult members had the potential to become pillars of the Federation, towering figures to support it. And now, you’ve ruined everything. Shouldn’t you be held responsible?"

"From what you’re saying, it sounds like they died by my hand?"

He Ao glanced at Dailot’s blood-stained hands and laughed.

"At the very least, they died because of you, didn’t they?"

Dailot sighed deeply, fixing his stare on He Ao. "You’re truly a scourge against the Federation, Suote."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I’m still the deputy chief of staff for the Federal Bureau of Investigation,"

He Ao gripped his blood-soaked blade and rasped with laughter, "Logically speaking, it’s not your place to declare me a criminal of the Federation."

Dailot’s expression stiffened, his gaze dropping briefly to Wistain’s corpse nearby. "So then, Suote, are you resolute in opposing us?"

Retracting his gaze, he fixed his eyes on He Ao. "Have you ever considered this? Without the Church’s resources, its endorsements, and its aid, how could someone like you—a kid from a small city, no parents, didn’t even finish high school—climb to where you are today, to the heart of the Federation?

"Yet now, after accepting the Church’s favors, you not only refuse their kindness but actively oppose them. Where is your sense of gratitude?"

"If I remember correctly,"

He Ao shrugged, "didn’t you people try to kill me first?

"And for all the goodwill you claim, you sure didn’t leave your name. I had no idea my promotions were thanks to you. You should’ve told me earlier—I wouldn’t have wasted my time earning merits on mountains of corpses and seas of blood. I would’ve just waited for you to gift me the position."

"Stubborn fool,"

Dailot’s brow furrowed as he gazed at He Ao’s bloodied figure. "Suote, considering you helped the Church eliminate the Starlight Worshipers’ spies, I’m willing to let you atone for your sins. As long as you immediately withdraw Northern Gate’s defenses and lead your troops to join us, you can still be a faithful member of the Church."

"So,"

He Ao watched him with a smile, "who exactly are you gathering, and what are you planning to do?"

"Since you’re here, why even ask what we’re planning?"

Dailot gazed at He Ao, smiling faintly. "You already know. If you don’t know, I won’t tell you. Fulfill your service, and in the end, you’ll find out."

"And if I refuse?"

He Ao tightened his grip on the blood-stained blade.

"Ah, ah, ah,"

Dailot shook his head, "Now, you can’t blame me for not giving you a chance—it’s you denying yourself the opportunity. Do you honestly think, in your current state, that you can defeat me?"

Raising his hand, Dailot’s muscles swelled abruptly, tearing through his clothing as he looked at He Ao with a grin. "Suote, I’ll remember your foolishness."

He Ao gazed up at him and slowly lifted his hand, glancing at the die in his palm.

"6"