She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 112

She had already understood everything.

As for the current predicament of the Falling Moon Tree, modern people would undoubtedly relate to it with a wealth of personal experiences.

For instance, when you want to unwind by binge-watching a show, only for the progress bar to freeze, leaving you staring at an endlessly spinning loading icon.

Or say, when you sneak a moment to browse the web for a quick mental escape, but the page stubbornly refuses to load, while the app shamelessly flashes a cutesy message—"Oops, the internet’s gone wandering. Maybe try refreshing?"

In short, over this period, the Falling Moon Tree’s state was akin to a frozen phone or computer screen—completely overloaded with information and stuck in a system crash.

After listening to Yan Luoyue’s lively, humorous, and crystal-clear explanation, Wu Manshuang arched an eyebrow, as though unsure how to react.

A second later, he declared decisively, "Cut the opponent’s internet cable!"

This proved one thing: Wu Manshuang was truly a genius.

In just a few sentences, he had already grasped the fatal tactic of information warfare.

Moreover, though no one had taught him, Wu Manshuang seemed to have instinctively mastered a universal truth: "She could never be wrong. If she was wrong, then the mistake must lie with the other party."

A real prodigy didn’t need a teacher to guide them—they could self-study their way to enlightenment.

Yan Luoyue marveled at this internally before shifting her gaze to the scene unfolding before her.

After the Crying Crow Fire collided with the ultra-gigantic spherical demon and tragically shattered, its main body split into several fragments of flame, scattered across the land.

Beyond those larger remnants, countless tiny sparks had also burst forth from the Crying Crow Fire.

These minuscule embers scattered across the demon realm’s sky.

Too small to coalesce, they could not form a sun.

Yet their presence alone continuously supplied the demon realm with the power of supreme yang, ensuring this beautiful land would not wither into a lifeless wasteland under the suppression of the Froststone.

From that moment on, the demon realm’s sky was forever dyed in the fiery hues of a divine relic.

Even by the time Wu Manshuang hatched from his shell, the swirling heavens still bore the lingering imprint of that magnificent, tragic crimson.

If the sky’s color spoke of tragedy, then the Froststone’s emotions upon witnessing the Falling Moon Tree under attack could only be described as wrathful grief.

As a stone, the Froststone had always been the most composed and steady-tempered among the three divine relics.

But this time, its fury was uncontrollable.

Just as Wu Manshuang had unhesitatingly torn open his wrist, letting blood surge forth without restraint.

At this very moment, the spiritual energy of supreme yin—death itself—spread across the land like a tsunami’s floodwaters.

Supreme yin’s power meant instant death upon contact.

The invading foreign creatures fell in droves, collapsing more easily than wheat stalks in autumn.

Their corpses piled up in heaps, rotting across the earth and emitting a horrifying stench.

With so many foreign creatures dead, vultures gorged themselves until their bellies bulged, blissfully dozing atop mountains of carcasses.

Yet this was not enough—far from it!

This sight still could not quell the Froststone’s rage. Because the true culprit behind this devastation—the Puppet Love-Eater Web—had yet to face judgment.

Long before launching its attack on the Falling Moon Tree, the Puppet Love-Eater Web had cunningly positioned itself far away.

Yet its puppet threads stretched endlessly, each one supple yet unbreakable.

A dense web of silver threads entangled the Falling Moon Tree, like strangler vines coiling around an ancient tree—a sight so ominous it chilled the heart at a glance.

While the Froststone slaughtered the foreign invaders, the Puppet Love-Eater Web was also at work.

It commanded its army of cultivated demons, driving them to attack the native demons—though not to exterminate, only to push.

This encirclement tightened from the outside in, with a clear goal: to force all native demons toward the Falling Moon Tree.

Most demons were long-lived species with low fertility, meaning every lost clansman was irreplaceable.

Meanwhile, the foreign creatures bred by the Puppet Love-Eater Web—from the timid demons to the hetero-womb demons and the spherical demons—each reproduced in ways increasingly efficient: sexual union, self-replication, and fission.

In short, their reproductive abilities grew stronger with each variant.

Even with the native demons’ superior individual strength, they could only temporarily hold their ground against the Puppet Love-Eater Web’s swarm tactics.

Watching this, Yan Luoyue shook her head wryly, feeling the scene could aptly be titled "Bad Money Drives Out Good."

It seemed no matter the world, some truths remained universal.

As the demons gradually retreated toward the Falling Moon Tree, both Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang discerned the mastermind’s intent.

Its actions were both a taunt and a challenge:

—My minions are expendable puppets, endlessly replaceable.

—But your demons—will you let them perish alongside your wrath?

It was like a gang of thugs vandalizing a restaurant—they could recklessly destroy, but the owner couldn’t retaliate with equal abandon.

Because this was a world created jointly by the Crying Crow Fire, the Falling Moon Tree, and the Froststone.

The Puppet Love-Eater Web could wreak havoc, then casually tear open a spatial rift to escape when defeat loomed.

But the ruins it left behind would be left for the three divine relics to bear.

For a time, the standoff persisted.

Meanwhile, the rapidly multiplying demonic hordes seized control of the passages to the other realms, severing connections between the demon realm, the human realm, and the spirit realm.

Back then, travel between the three realms was infrequent.

Much like Earth before globalization, cross-continental exchanges were sparse.

Moreover, these invaders had struck too early.

To humans and spirits, creatures like the timid demons and hetero-womb demons were simply native denizens of the demon realm.

So, wasn’t this just an internal demonic civil war?

With that assumption, the other realms paid little attention to the upheaval in the demon realm.

Only the fall of the Crying Crow Fire was recorded as a significant event in human histories.

Within the demon realm, the stalemate dragged on.

Thanks to the Puppet Love-Eater Web’s machinations, the demons became hostages to restrain the Froststone’s fury—though they remained oblivious to this role.

The Froststone’s rage was never directed at them.

After all, the demons gathered around the Falling Moon Tree because it was their revered divine relic, their spiritual anchor.

Moreover, after battling the foreign invaders, the Falling Moon Tree’s emitted spiritual energy aided their recovery.

Emotionally and logically, they had simply made the most practical choice available.

Seeing this, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but voice a doubt.

She asked Wu Manshuang, "I’ve realized something… Back then, it seems we couldn’t directly communicate with the demons?"

It was as though two separate channels of communication existed.

In one communication channel existed all species of the world except for the three divine entities. In another channel, it seemed only the three of them remained.

On this point, Wu Manshuang had particularly deep reflections.

He patted Yan Luoyue’s hand and said, “Because we’re slower.”

To put it simply, if the Froststone (Wu Manshuang) wanted to convey a message like “Retreat for now” to the demon clans, just that one sentence alone would take three to four years to transmit.

And even then, there was no guarantee that the demon clansman’s mind could endure it—that they could understand it—or that the connection to the Froststone’s communication wouldn’t break during those three to four years.

Yan Luoyue: “……”

It could be said that before the avatars “Yan Luoyue” and “Wu Manshuang” were separated, communication between the Moonwood (Yan Luoyue) and the Froststone (Wu Manshuang) had been an exceedingly rare luxury.

……

From the scenes unfolding in the illusion, one could see the days passing one after another.

And the Froststone’s attitude gradually shifted from initial fury to silence and, eventually, despair.

The Moonwood had been disconnected for far too long.

In response to the Froststone’s unceasing calls, she had not once given the reaction he had hoped for.

Still, the Froststone persisted, continuously channeling spiritual energy to the Moonwood.

Yet at the same time, he hopelessly realized that this effort was entirely futile.

It was like stubbornly pumping glucose into someone who was drowning—when what they truly needed was for someone to pull them out of the water.

However, this predicament did not last long.

By a stroke of fate, a group of demon clansmen ventured deep into the invaders’ territory.

There, they discovered a spatial rift.

On the other side of the rift lay a realm where spiritual energy was thin and time flowed faster.

With pursuers closing in from behind and the situation desperate, the demon clansmen gritted their teeth and plunged inside.

Watching this, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang couldn’t help but exchange a smile.

Yan Luoyue laughed. “I knew something like this would happen.”

Wu Manshuang nodded in agreement. “If not now, then eventually. If not them, then someone else would have done something this unpredictable.”

—The Puppet Net was inherently cruel and cold, understanding only manipulation and control.

Thus, it could never comprehend that the ones capable of true miracles—of carving a path to survival in a hopeless situation—were only those races entrusted with love and hope.

This was something its puppets would never achieve.

But the demon clans, as rebels and defenders, would press forward wave after wave. Even if they crashed into a wall nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine times, they would still find that one-in-ten-thousand path to survival.

What exactly happened after those demon clansmen entered the spatial rift was not shown in the illusion.

But Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang had already heard the full story in the spirit realm.

The scene shifted again, this time to over a decade later.

A demon clansman emerged from the spatial rift, leading a group of spirit realm beings.

These spirit beings approached the Moonwood, transformed into translucent silhouettes, and then slipped into the fine silver threads.

They infiltrated the sea of information, traveling along the pathways woven by the silver threads, moving ever forward.

Like computer viruses, they extracted vital gains from the enemy’s stronghold and smuggled them into the Moonwood’s consciousness.

Perhaps it was fate, perhaps destiny, or perhaps the inevitable result of an arrogant enemy’s downfall.

These heroes from the spirit realm returned triumphant, having smuggled out the souls of mortals from the “Silver Thread Net.”

These mortals came from a place called the “modern world.”

They had a fixed term for themselves—

“Programmers.”

At this point, Yan Luoyue finally slapped the table in amazement.

“Holy shit!”

Since there was no table in the illusion, what she slapped was Wu Manshuang’s thigh.

The sudden strike didn’t hurt him, but he was momentarily lost by her reaction.

He gave her a questioning look. “‘Programmers’—what kind of people are these?”

Why was Luoyue so excited about them?

Holding reverence for the God of Baldness, Yan Luoyue speculated, “If I’m not mistaken, they played an irreplaceable role in The Convergence of All Realms.”

Wu Manshuang thought carefully. “The Convergence of All Realms—that ‘game’ you mentioned before?”

Yan Luoyue nodded.

Wu Manshuang continued, “The fixed game characters in The Convergence of All Realms—those called NPCs—were written by them?”

Yan Luoyue nodded again. “Huh, did I tell you about NPCs?”

“Mhm.” Wu Manshuang said impassively, “You also mentioned that NPCs call you ‘dear player’—wait, is the term ‘dear’ also invented by these programmers?”

Yan Luoyue: “……”

Yan Luoyue was stunned. “No, that was ages ago—how do you still remember—wait, am I seeing things, or are your eyes literally shooting daggers?!”

Seeing Wu Manshuang radiating killing intent toward a phantom image, Yan Luoyue could only laugh in exasperation.

She grabbed his arm with one hand and covered her eyes with the other in resignation.

“Come on, they’re already pitiful enough, paving the floor with their fallen hair every day!”

The moment she finished speaking, Wu Manshuang instantly switched modes, going from battle-ready back to his usual self in a second.

Yan Luoyue: “???”

Wu Manshuang smiled. “It’s nothing. Let’s keep watching.”

He knew Yan Luoyue’s tastes all too well.

She loved looking at attractive people—men, women, even those in between.

But she definitely had no interest in humans with receding hairlines—let alone half-bald ones!

……

The Moonwood was a divine entity by nature.

Like soul-nurturing pearls, she could house souls—except her capacity far exceeded that of a small pearl.

According to the modern souls smuggled in by the spirit realm beings, who now temporarily resided within the Moonwood:

They had been abducted from their world by the Puppet Net and stored in the silver threads in their current state for a long, long time.

The Puppet Net had also reached their world, and the concept of a “network” was something it had borrowed from modern society.

On Earth, one day, scientists detected unusual entropy fluctuations in the atmosphere.

Then, after confirming principles involving particles, luminous ring structures, radiation wavelengths, ionic radiation, and so on…

—As for the specifics of these principles, the Froststone had no idea.

Because when it came to this part of the explanation, he didn’t understand a single word.

Froststone: I recognize the characters when they’re split apart, but once they’re combined, I’m completely lost!

The facts proved that if you couldn’t grasp advanced physics thousands of years ago, you wouldn’t pass the exam thousands of years later either.

Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang exchanged helpless glances amid the barrage of jargon, finding these terms even more incomprehensible than cultivation techniques. They dearly wished the illusion had a fast-forward button.

Meanwhile, the souls in the illusion continued chattering away:

—In short, a spatial rift opened on Earth!

Hearing this, Wu Manshuang and Yan Luoyue finally let out a long sigh of relief.

Very well, they understood this conclusion!

From the gaping spatial rift, countless dense silver threads extended outward.

Thus began the calamity: one of those silver threads slipped into a phone’s charging port.

These modern souls only learned of the Puppeteer’s abilities afterward.

And this particular Puppeteer, which had once visited modern society, was already an evolved species—one tier higher than an ordinary Puppeteer.

Beyond its innate abilities, it also possessed the power to tear open spatial rifts with its threads.

After exploring the modern world, this unique Puppeteer ventured into two other worlds.

In the second world, its attempts at control failed, and due to the peculiar nature of its puppet threads, it fused with an exceptionally powerful Emotion Devourer.

That time, it took a large number of Cowardly Demons as reserve puppets.

In the third world, the Puppeteer reaped its rewards in the form of Plump Demons, ensnared by its threads.

The cultivation realm was the fourth world this Puppeteer visited.

Among all the alternate worlds, it was the one with the richest spiritual energy and the youngest in age.

Clearly, this world greatly appealed to the Puppeteer.

Especially after its experiences in the previous three worlds, it had evolved into something new—a Puppeteer-Emotion Devourer Net, encased in an ultra-gigantic Plump Demon.

This gave the Puppeteer-Emotion Devourer Net immense confidence.

It eyed the cultivation realm covetously, convinced it now had the power to dominate this beautiful world.

Now, let’s rewind to the moment the Puppeteer first opened the spatial rift to the modern world.

Separated by the rift’s entrance, the Puppeteer mistook a filming smartphone for a living being.

Driven by its species’ instincts, it immediately extended a puppet thread, intending to seize control of the phone.

To the Puppeteer’s own surprise, its thread failed to manipulate the "creature" and instead plunged headlong into the boundless flow of information.

For the divine Moonfall Tree, such vast amounts of information pollution were a torment to its spiritual senses.

For a Puppeteer that had yet to reach its full strength, the pain was even greater.

Yet, puppet threads—much like the Spirit Realm beings who could naturally infiltrate networks—had their own unique properties.

After a struggle, the Puppeteer completed its next evolution amidst the torrent of information.

Now, it had become a Puppeteer Net.

Reading this, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but sigh.

If not for its utterly hideous appearance, some online novelist in the future might have written a "Chosen One" story with it as the protagonist.

At the very least, in terms of sheer dumb luck, the Puppeteer’s abilities surpassed even the Moonfall Tree’s.

Modern society had only trace amounts of spiritual energy, making the world unappealing to the Puppeteer Net.

Especially after it learned from the internet that these spiritually barren humans possessed certain "firepower saturation" methods of attack…

After failing to manipulate a rocket launcher with its puppet threads, the Puppeteer Net deduced that nuclear warheads would likewise be beyond its control.

Thus, it could only leave this world with great reluctance.

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Wu Manshuang: "…"

Yan Luoyue murmured, "What a perfect example of ‘the bigger the dream, the bigger the stage’!"

Thankfully, this thing couldn’t turn nukes into puppets—otherwise, the consequences would be unimaginable.

The current Puppeteer-Emotion Devourer Net was already difficult enough to deal with. If it had fused with modern technology—good heavens, it might as well have ascended to the heavens right then and there!

But before leaving, the Puppeteer Net didn’t just take vast amounts of digital data—it also abducted a number of humans.

Since human bodies were too fragile to traverse the spatial rift (incidentally, this was also why the Puppeteer didn’t take modern weapons with it), the Puppeteer Net transformed these humans into…

"I don’t even know how to describe it," lamented the soul responsible for recounting the story, scratching his head in frustration before the Frostheart Stone.

He said, "From the perspective of your cultivation realm’s worldview, it probably extracted our souls."

"But if we’re going by programmer logic… wouldn’t this count as encoding our consciousness into 1s and 0s?"

As it turned out, some things still had to be left to metaphysics—especially in a world where cultivation was real.

One ironclad fact proved they were souls, not encoded consciousness:

—Because these human souls, rescued by the Spirit Realm beings, could cultivate immortality.

Still, the "encoded consciousness" theory gave these transmigrators many ideas.

So when the Spirit Realm’s Etherealizers launched their second "smuggling" operation, these programmer-cultivators encoded a product that closely resembled souls in both aura and essence.

Thus, the Etherealizers and transmigrators, hailing from two different worlds, embarked on their first collaboration within the cultivation realm.

The Etherealizers pulled off a classic bait-and-switch, replacing the real modern transmigrators with fabricated streams of spiritual energy data.

After dozens of repetitions, the Etherealizers finally emptied the Silver Net’s entire stock of modern humans.

From then on, this prolonged battle reached a new turning point.

After all, the essence of a "network" lies in the rapid transmission of information.

For the Puppeteer-Emotion Devourer Net, the medium of transmission was those silver threads.

And the energy driving the information flow was the Net’s own bioenergy.

Thus, someone proposed a theory:

If the Puppeteer-Emotion Devourer Net could naturally fuse with networks, then couldn’t the Moonfall Tree—with their help—artificially fuse with a network as well?

Though the divine tree lacked the Net’s innate advantages, this world was her home turf.

Countless branches and roots could serve as her "cables," the conduits for information transmission.

And the endless flow of spiritual energy could power the information transfer.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‍Puppeteer-Emotion Devourer Net had traversed four worlds, its influence deep-rooted.

But the land beneath the Moonfall Tree’s roots was her native world. Merely by standing firm on this soil, she could draw infinite support.

When Yan Luoyue advanced from Qi Refining to Foundation Establishment, she once joked:

"Cultivators who focus on artifact forging are like collection flasks. At the Foundation Establishment stage, when spiritual energy turns liquid, we can call it a ‘biomechanical pressure pump.’"

"From Foundation Establishment to Golden Core? That’s ‘charcoal-fired yogurt coagulation tech.’"

"The Nascent Soul stage? More like ‘a treatise on press machines and mold processing.’"

"And the Spirit Severing stage, where divine sense can be projected freely? At that point, we might as well call it ‘transmission LAN.’"

Back then, Yan Luoyue never imagined that beyond such playful analogies, someone would actually turn this "spiritual energy information network" into reality.

After over a hundred failures, the day finally came when the first network node was successfully constructed on one of the Moonfall Tree’s branches.

Like planting trees in a desert, everyone diligently sowed the first sapling, followed by the second, the third...

The beginning was inevitably arduous.

Yet as long as they persisted, a bright future would eventually come into view.

Thus, after a long passage of time, they first wove a firewall for the Moonfall Tree.

Then, in a way the Moonfall Tree could comprehend, they crafted a weapon for her to counter the Puppet Net—a "massive online game."

Spiritual energy was transformed into intricate streams of data and code, which then coalesced into something most could understand.

This became the first version of All Realms Unite.

Soon after, darkness descended once more.

A moment later, the scene before Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang shifted back to the Moonfall Tree's perspective.

Once All Realms Unite was established, the Moonfall Tree's branches and roots became "network cables" storing streams of information.

Through this method, people built a new microcosm within the Moonfall Tree.

Here, the Yin energy transmitted by the Froststone to the Moonfall Tree served as ammunition against the Puppet Net.

And the faction battles in All Realms Unite became a life-or-death struggle between the Moonfall Tree and the Puppet Net.

As for the players—

At first, only the modern transmigrators participated in this game.

Later, as more and more demons fell in battle, their souls were gathered into the Moonfall Tree.

Thus, these unyielding spirits also became new players in All Realms Unite.

Time passed slowly. The invading creatures still outnumbered the native demons.

Yet, in the tangled web of cyber warfare, All Realms Unite gradually shifted from passive defense to mounting a counterattack.

The Puppet Net of Emotion Devouring began to realize that this war had become a seesaw:

Killing native demons aided its conquest of the demon realm.

But the souls of fallen demons returned to the Moonfall Tree, strengthening its resistance.

After calculations and deliberation, the Puppet Net extended its reach further.

It slowed its assaults on the native demons, opting instead for containment.

Meanwhile, the endless tide of invasive species, under the Puppet Net's command, marched toward the human and demon realms—places beyond the Moonfall Tree's reach.

And so began the Demon-Subduing War.

In the past, a few demons had ventured into the human world.

Because the demon realm housed three divine artifacts, most demons were long-lived.

Those who traveled to other realms often learned of the demon realm's sealing and the impending war before their journeys ended.

To survive, they kept their demonic heritage secret, even from their descendants.

Like the merfolk of the Azure River, whose ancestors' origins traced back to such circumstances.

There’s a saying—modern children exposed to the internet are more "shrewd" and mature earlier than those of the past.

The same logic applied to the Moonfall Tree.

Left to grow at her own pace, it might have taken millions of years for her to manifest a humanoid form.

But first came the Puppet Net’s forced infusion of knowledge, then All Realms Unite built upon her roots.

These two events forcibly accelerated her maturation.

Now, the Moonfall Tree was both the vessel for All Realms Unite and the game itself.

Her consciousness also condensed into a digital avatar, making her a player in the game.

Gradually, besides demons and modern transmigrators, new human and demonic "players" joined All Realms Unite.

The Moonfall Tree realized this was because the invasive species had begun slaughtering the other two realms.

As a divine tree, her reactions were naturally slow—three thousand years to her was but a fleeting moment.

But for other races, three thousand years spanned generations, even entire civilizations facing extinction.

In such dire times, time truly meant life.

The Moonfall Tree understood that compared to the other races and the Puppet Net, she was far too sluggish.

To react faster, she needed to "forge an avatar"—a lighter, swifter form.

And so, Yan Luoyue came to be.

As for the Froststone, though he never created an account in the game, he often conversed with the Moonfall Tree after her recovery.

He raised no objections to her decision.

Just as Wu Manshuang did not oppose Yan Luoyue stepping into the illusion when the demon realm’s "nightmare letters" arrived.

The Froststone’s only request was to create an avatar of his own, so he could remain by her side.

Three thousand years ago, three thousand years later—even if their avatars took different forms, Wu Manshuang’s answer never wavered.

Whether ascending to heaven or descending into battle, living or dying, he would always stay with her.

Because an avatar was not the divine tree’s true body, and the Moonfall Tree had recently suffered the Puppet Net’s attacks, Yan Luoyue’s constitution was initially frail.

But once she endured the hardest phase, her vitality would multiply exponentially.

As for the relationship between "Yan Luoyue" and the "Moonfall Tree"—

Undoubtedly, the Moonfall Tree was the source of Yan Luoyue’s life force.

And Yan Luoyue was the vessel carrying the Moonfall Tree’s consciousness.

Both were equally vital, two halves of a whole—one representing the health bar, the other the spirit gauge.

As years passed, Yan Luoyue and the Moonfall Tree would grow ever closer, and the tree’s traits would manifest fully in her.

The Moonfall Tree was a divine entity, her lifespan surpassing even the ancient cedars.

Each year Yan Luoyue gained another zero in her health bar—it was, in truth, the Moonfall Tree’s annual ring.

The process of forging an avatar was much like creating a character in a game.

First, the Moonfall Tree and the Froststone chose their avatars’ races.

The Moonfall Tree selected a turtle, while the Froststone chose a snake.

The Moonfall Tree asked, "Why a snake?"

The Froststone replied, "Because its body resembles your winding branches. And you—why a turtle?"

Even unspoken, the answer was understood between them.

The Moonfall Tree said, "Because a turtle’s shape is like that of a rock."

Without needing to discuss it, they both immediately chose each other's traits as the foundation for their future races.

The little snake's color was emerald green, like the first new leaf of the Falling Moon Tree.

As he shed his skin over time, his hue gradually darkened to ink-black, a reflection of how Wu Manshuang's incarnation grew closer in nature to his true form as the Froststone.

As for the Teng snake's beautiful wings—

First, because having wings would make things more convenient.

Second, it was to honor the Crying Crow Flame.

At this point in the vision, Yan Luoyue couldn't help but smirk mischievously.

She poked Wu Manshuang lightly and teased, "Manshuang, when you chose to become a winged Teng snake, was it really to honor the Crying Crow, or just to spite him?"

From the memories of the past, the relationship between the Crying Crow Flame and the Froststone was downright childish.

Things like, "Now I have wings too, and I can fly higher, faster, with bigger and prettier wings than yours… Oh, and I’ll take a quick spin near the sun—just for fun, no big deal."

Wu Manshuang's gaze flickered away for a moment. "I don’t remember."

Liar! You totally did it on purpose! Yan Luoyue silently accused him with her eyes.

The rest of the story, Yan Luoyue already knew.

The newly born incarnations couldn’t bear the weight of hundreds of thousands of years of memories.

And the truth of their origins—being the Falling Moon Tree and the Froststone—was tied to the laws of the world.

Their fledgling consciousnesses simply couldn’t handle it.

So, they had to selectively take only the safest fragments of knowledge.

Wu Manshuang chose all the information about demonic creatures and the surname "Wu."

As for Yan Luoyue, because her newborn form was too fragile, everyone worried that her lack of common sense might cut her incarnation journey short before it even began.

After careful consideration, Yan Luoyue took with her fragments of modern knowledge she’d absorbed during the information bombardment, along with memories of the game Worlds Unite.

Other crucial information she would need was cleverly disguised within the game’s framework—

Like crafting techniques, the classification of demonic races in the game… and most importantly, the key to reclaiming the Crying Crow Flame.

In Worlds Unite, there was no story about luring a divine flame with nothing but a broken basket.

But the Falling Moon Tree firmly believed: their lively, restless little flame, even scattered into embers, would still be drawn to a resting place resembling a tree’s canopy, just as cats adore cardboard boxes.

Fast-forward to this life.

Clearly, Yan Luoyue wasn’t the biological child of Yan Feng and his wife. She was an incarnation directly created by the Falling Moon Tree.

Back then, the turtle egg and snake egg were taken near the demonic seal.

After some twists and turns, the turtle egg—being too large and conspicuous—was smuggled out of the demon realm by low-level demons as emergency rations.

By sheer coincidence, the turtle couple Yan Feng and his wife had bravely fallen in battle nearby.

When the Turtle Clan retrieved their bodies, they found the enormous turtle egg and brought it back with them.

—Mainly because one of the Turtle Clan’s traits was that pregnancy lasted only a month before laying an egg.

Given how short that was, no one made a big deal about announcing it, so no one knew for sure if Yan Feng’s wife had even been expecting.

Thus, by pure chance, Yan Luoyue was born into the Turtle Clan, recorded under Yan Feng’s name, and hailed as the clan’s prodigious little divine turtle.

As for Wu Manshuang, not only was he separated from Yan Luoyue, but he was left in the demon realm, enduring a harsh hatching process.

Yet fate would always bring them back together.

"I understand everything now," Yan Luoyue nodded. "First, we need to gather the Crying Crow Flame. Second, we must find a way to win this war."

No wonder the human form made thinking so much sharper.

No wonder the Falling Moon Tree had gone to the trouble of crafting an incarnation.

If Yan Luoyue were still using the Falling Moon Tree’s original form, just figuring out this simple battle plan would’ve taken her at least fifty years—let alone executing the next steps.

As Yan Luoyue’s words faded, the illusion before them gradually dissolved.

Wu Manshuang and Yan Luoyue exchanged a glance.

Now, their eyes burned with a fiercer, clearer light.

The enemy had revealed themselves. The path ahead grew ever clearer.

And they would take back their world from the invaders, restoring it to its former glory.