Player's Journey In Anime World

As the number of casualties on the battlefield continued to rise, Reinhard's face betrayed a trace of unease.

With a sudden, forceful motion, he pushed Ryou away. The dragon sword, Reid, in his hand abruptly radiated a dazzling white light.

The next strike would be cataclysmic.

Yet Ryou's face revealed a confident smile as if victory was already in his grasp.

From the very beginning, the victor could only be him—would only be him. Up until now, he had merely been using Reinhard to hone his offensive and defensive skills.

With all his attributes now upgraded to A+, and just one step away from reaching EX level, ordinary opponents no longer provided him with any opportunity for improvement. However, Reinhard, beloved by the world itself, was a formidable foe who forced Ryou to unleash his full power.

In less than two minutes of combat with Reinhard, Ryou had made significant progress in his fundamental attributes and skills. Notably, his mastery in advanced unarmed combat had reached 99%, just a step shy of achieving the master level.

It was no wonder that top-tier fighters rarely made a move unless faced with opponents of equal standing. For them, fighting lower-level opponents was akin to grinding in a game without gaining experience—only battles with equals brought real growth.

Originally, Ryou had intended to prolong the battle for mutual development, but Reinhard seemed poised to unleash a devastating ultimate move.

Ryou let out a cold laugh and raised his hand.

Snap!

A crisp snap of his fingers echoed.

World Separation!

In an instant, the world was transformed. The hall, the crowd—everything vanished without a trace, leaving only Ryou and Reinhard behind.

The ground became a glass-like mirrored lake reflecting everything, while the sky was enveloped in an infinite expanse of stars.

Then the light from Reinhard's dragon sword abruptly disappeared. The pristine blade began to corrode, spots of rust emerging rapidly.

With a faint clang, the so-called greatest holy sword in the world, capable of splitting the earth in Reinhard's hands, crumbled into a pile of rust.

"What have you done!?"

Reinhard's shocked gaze fixed on Ryou.

He could keenly feel all the blessings that had once graced him abandon him. The intimate connection with the world was severed, replaced by a sense of rejection, as if the entire world was repelling his existence.

"Welcome to my world," Ryou said, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

...

Meanwhile, the onlookers noticed that both combatants had suddenly vanished, throwing the scene into chaos once again.

But within half a minute, Ryou stepped out from his dimensional realm, carrying a severed head dripping with bitterness and rage.

The head belonged to none other than Reinhard, their supposed savior, his signature fiery red hair unmistakable.

The assembly hall fell silent. Not a single sound was heard, not even the drop of a pin.

The survivors stared in terror at the demonic figure standing amidst them. None dared to even breathe audibly.

Without sparing a glance, Ryou tossed Reinhard's head toward Felt.

Felt fumbled to catch it, her hands trembling. As her eyes met Reinhard's lifeless, unyielding gaze, a surge of anger and despair erupted within her.

Though she often quarreled with Reinhard and teased him, Felt had always been acutely aware of who truly cared for her. Growing up as an orphan in the slums, she knew how to distinguish genuine kindness from empty gestures.

Reinhard had always been sincere.

Her antics were merely the result of not knowing how to express gratitude.

But now, Reinhard was gone.

Memories of their time together flashed through Felt's mind like a film reel. Tears welled up in her eyes as she glared at Ryou with hatred.

"You bastard!" she screamed.

Ryou shot her a cold glance—just one glance.

Felt instantly felt as if invisible hands were choking her, making it impossible to breathe.

Only when Ryou looked away did she collapse to the ground, gasping for air.

For a moment, she thought she was going to die.

A warm wetness between her legs reminded Felt of her uncontrollable fear. She had been scared to the point of wetting herself.

Nearby, Felix cowered behind Crusch, his cat ears drooping in terror.

Crusch herself stared ahead with a dazed, aimless look.

Her ideal had always been to dissolve the alliance with the Divine Dragon and develop Lugunica with the nation's strength.

With the dragon dead, her vision had come true in the most absurdly dramatic way.

It felt akin to someone working their entire life to save money, only to find their savings paled in comparison to another's casual expense.

"What am I, even?"

Crusch murmured with a bitter smile, tilting her head toward the heavens, her voice laced with desolation.

"Crusch-sama…"

Felix's worried voice broke through as he glanced at her anxiously.

Nearby, Anastasia took a step forward, only to be stopped by Julius.

"It's too dangerous to approach that man, Anastasia-sama," Julius said, his hand gripping his sword as he stood protectively in front of her.

Anastasia, however, smiled mischievously.

"Relax, Julius. Unless, of course, you're confident you could defeat him?"

Her meaning was clear: if Julius wasn't stronger than Ryou, his protection was meaningless.

Julius's expression darkened with frustration. Glancing at Reinhard's head, reason prevailed over pride.

Even Reinhard, whom Julius had always regarded as an invincible paragon, had fallen.

Acknowledging the gulf in power, Julius lowered his head.

"Forgive me, Anastasia-sama. I am powerless."

His voice was filled with humiliation. Admitting his inferiority to another man in front of someone he admired deeply was a bitter pill to swallow.

"That's fine," Anastasia replied lightly.

"No need to fret. For now, we're still allies, aren't we?"

She winked slyly, her smile tinged with a merchant's cunning. Having a stronger ally was beneficial. Though it required sacrificing some profits, the benefits of aligning with such power outweighed the costs.

From a distance, Al, his face hidden behind his helmet, stood silently consoling his young mistress.

"My lady, please don't get any closer. That man over there is extremely dangerous."

Priscilla glanced at him sideways.

"What? Are you implying you won't protect me?"

Al scratched the back of his head, making a loud thumping noise, and replied in an exasperated tone,

"Sorry, my lady, but I'm afraid I can't beat that guy."

Smack!

Priscilla raised an eyebrow, her face filled with disdain as she tapped her feathered fan sharply against Al's iron head.

"You spineless man!"

Al shrugged helplessly, a hint of mockery in his tone as he said,

"Can't be helped. If I face him, I'll probably be defeated instantly."

"Hmph! Useless fool! I don't need your protection! The world revolves around me, and besides, I'm so beautiful. How could that man even think of harming me?"

Priscilla puffed out her chest proudly, causing a mesmerizing ripple that left any onlooking men drooling.

Faced with his young mistress's little tantrum, what could Al do? He was utterly hopeless.

"Whatever makes you happy, my lady."

Of course, in the end, Priscilla doesn't act like a lovestruck fool and approaches Ryou. According to her, it was only natural that Ryou should rid himself of that meddlesome silver-haired half-elf, fall at her feet, and declare his love.

In reality, Al believed his mistress was most likely scared stiff by Ryou's brutal methods and wisely decided to stay out of it.

After killing the Sword Saint Reinhard, Ryou pulled out three "keys" to unseal the Witch's Core within Emilia.

As the red, yellow, and blue orbs fused into Emilia's body, an overwhelming presence erupted from her petite frame, like an ancient behemoth awakening and opening its eyes.

Terror—absolute, domineering terror!

Everyone present, if their power was even slightly lacking, immediately felt as if an invisible hand gripped their hearts, ready to squeeze the life out of them.

Those allowed into the council hall were no mere commoners; the lowest-ranking among them were barons with actual power. Yet, at that moment, they felt like the most insignificant slaves, while the silver-haired half-elf they despised suddenly transformed into a god holding their very lives in her hands.

This was no illusion.

Perhaps due to the freshly broken seal, Emilia could not yet fully control her power, so the terrifying aura of the Witch of Envy overflowed uncontrollably.

Endless darkness surged behind Emilia, forming a massive, deathly hand made of shadows. From a distance, it resembled a giant black rose in bloom, with Emilia standing at its center.

No, it would be more accurate to call her...

"Ladies and gentlemen! I hereby announce the birth of the second-generation Witch of Envy, Satella II! Let us welcome her with thunderous applause and cheers!"

As Ryou finished, he took the lead in clapping.

However, the crowd was completely frozen by the horrifying transformation, and aside from Anastasia and a few others, no one applauded.

Ryou's impassioned speech fell flat.

Still, he had his methods.

With a simple mental command, black ice spikes erupted from the ground, skewering half the surviving nobles and knights like kebabs.

The floodgates opened. Blood poured across the council hall like a raging torrent.

To make matters worse, the impaled victims were not dead; they screamed in agony, writhing atop the icy spikes.

The scene became a nightmare, rivaling the horrors of certain infamous Lord Impaler.

With a friendly yet chilling smile, Ryou addressed the survivors.

"A new Witch King has been born. Shouldn't you celebrate and applaud the birth of your new ruler?"

Terrified, everyone immediately raised their hands and clapped with all their might, silently cursing their parents for not giving them extra arms.

Thunderous applause filled the hall.

Satisfied, Ryou nodded approvingly.

At that moment, Miklotov, who had narrowly defeated the bald guy through cunning and brute force, pointed at Ryou in sheer terror.

"You! You madman! Do you realize what you've done? You've unleashed the woman who devoured half the world! We're doomed! The world is doomed!"

Miklotov's concerns were not unfounded. Four centuries ago, the Witch of Envy Satella went berserk, killed all the other witches, and consumed half the world in one fell swoop.

It took the combined efforts of the Great Sage, the first Sword Saint, and the Divine Dragon—the three great heroes of legend—to seal her away.

But now, with the Great Sage reincarnated and slain by Ryou at the outset, the Divine Dragon dead, the Dragon Sword Reid destroyed, and the strongest Sword Saint Reinhard fallen, who could stop the Witch of Envy?

The answer was clear—no one.

Completely ignoring Emilia's terrifying aura, Ryou calmly approached her.

"What are you doing?!" shouted Puck, but Ryou paid no attention.

He took Emilia's small hand, pulled her into his arms, wrapped one arm around her waist, and placed his other hand at the back of her head, fingers tangling in her mercury-like hair.

Then, with a firm motion, he pressed her close and kissed her deeply.

"Mm! Mm-mm!"

Caught off guard, Emilia could only let out a muffled cry as Ryou's lips captured hers.

Not content with a mere kiss, Ryou pried her lips open and claimed her tongue, drawing out a series of utterly scandalous sounds.

Having achieved the dubious accomplishment of French kissing a Witch, Ryou finally released her, satisfied.

"Ah!"

Emilia pushed him away forcefully, clutching her lips as she stared at him in shock, her violet eyes filled with embarrassment and anger.

The second-generation Witch of Envy, now resembling an ordinary flustered girl, left the survivors utterly dumbfounded. They began to question if they were hallucinating or if they had misinterpreted everything.

Ignoring their bewilderment, Ryou raised his voice confidently.

"I've decided that my woman, the second-generation Witch of Envy, will become the queen of Lugunica! Who agrees? Who objects?"