More than a dozen bishops were the first to arrive, followed by an increasing number of individuals, among whom were many of higher rank than deacons. Ye Bai roughly sensed that the bishops were all at least A-grade, while the deacons were B-grade.
Moreover, it seemed to be some prevailing ideology within the Church of the Stars—every member of the church appeared exquisitely perfect in both face and form, as if infinitely approaching a flawless, rule-bound refinement.
The sheer scale of the Church of the Stars' mobilization truly allowed Ye Bai to witness what it meant for "A-grades to be as common as dirt and B-grades as numerous as dogs."
Yet, when one considered that what stood before her was likely the bulk of the Church of the Stars' accumulated strength, it all made perfect sense.
The Church of the Stars had been entrenched in the Chaotic Star Sea for who knew how many years. Even if Lelun claimed that the upper limit of a sentient being's soul was ten thousand years, just as he had extended his own lifespan through bodily modifications and mental hibernation, others could do the same.
It was entirely possible that there were many bishops and deacons Ye Bai knew nothing about, remaining in hibernation and thus absent from this gathering.
Even a few scattered taskers had arrived, but they soon received some kind of notification and were dispersed from the area.
Once the main force of the church arrived, there was naturally nothing left for Ye Bai to do.
As the instigator, Ye Bai now put on a show of forced composure before the assembled members of the Church of the Stars. Because her emotions were genuine, her performance was flawless—at least the deacon who came to speak with her didn’t detect anything amiss. Instead, he praised her warmly:
"You've done well. You may choose one reward from these high-tier options, along with an additional ten thousand points."
Observing his demeanor, a thought struck Ye Bai. She recalled what she had seen on Lelun's master terminal—all the secondary terminals of the taskers in the Chaotic Star Sea were created by the master terminals of the church's personnel.
Though every master terminal could influence secondary terminals, logically, each secondary account corresponded to a specific master account.
Given that none of the other church members paid her any attention, and this deacon had naturally stepped forward to deliver her reward, it was highly likely that the terminal Ye Bai had obtained from the black hole was one of this deacon's "sub-accounts."
The familiar interface reappeared, and this time, Ye Bai saw a selection of advanced Starfall technologies far superior to the rewards from sealing the wormhole. The ten thousand points were also promptly credited to her account.
Even though Ye Bai now knew the truth behind Starfall technology and the points, leaving her utterly indifferent, she still managed to feign excitement convincingly.
Scanning the list, she selected the most practical option available—the blueprint for an advanced stealth starship.
This was the same model Lelun had piloted. Had Ye Bai not received a terminal proximity alert when she got close enough to him, she would never have detected that ship.
Even with access to micro-wormholes, now that she understood the hidden dangers of the Starfall terminal, building her own ship seemed essential. In critical moments, she could simply destroy the terminal to avoid being forcibly teleported like during this mission.
With the blueprint in hand, all Ye Bai needed to do in the future was gather cosmic resources, convert them into materials, and construct the ship directly in her Aether Lab.
"And what about the previous civilization migration mission…?" Ye Bai reminded him.
The deacon paused briefly before nodding dismissively. "Of course. What was the reward?"
"Five thousand points," Ye Bai said, deliberately inflating the number slightly.
Sure enough, the deacon didn’t even blink. Without bothering to check the records of the previous mission, he added five thousand points to Ye Bai’s terminal instantly.
Yet another confirmation that "points" held no real value within the Church of the Stars.
"That’s all. You may leave now," the deacon instructed before turning away to join the other bishops investigating Lelun’s remains, paying Ye Bai no further attention.
The Church of the Stars was so arrogant that they didn’t even bother questioning Ye Bai, the one who had killed Lelun. It seemed that as long as the target was dead, nothing else mattered—especially since the most valuable master terminal had already been destroyed.
This suited Ye Bai perfectly. She activated a free micro-wormhole and left without delay.
……
Only when she reached the desolate star sector near her hideout did Ye Bai finally let out a sigh of relief.
Now that she knew the truth about the points, she could freely "farm" them through historical reenactments in the future. But with the fifteen thousand points she’d just obtained, even accounting for the costs of building and upgrading her ship, she had more than enough for a long time.
As for the other master terminal, Ye Bai shelved any thoughts of retrieving it for now. She had already extracted the most crucial information from it. If she triggered another alarm, there would be no Lelun left to take the blame.
With the immediate crisis averted, the deeper questions resurfaced in her mind.
[Soul activity duration: 11,442 years… Exceeds upper limit.]
Everything had been normal until her psychic energy touched the master terminal. Even Lelun hadn’t anticipated such a reaction.
But why did her soul activity exceed the limit? How was it even possible?
Ye Bai had indeed lived for over ten thousand years—she was the sole survivor among the cryogenically frozen refugees from Earth’s meteor crisis. But according to Lelun, periods of unconscious hibernation didn’t count toward soul activity. That was how he had lived for hundreds of millions of years, only reaching his soul’s limit and betraying the Church of the Stars in pursuit of further longevity.
Unless… Ye Bai had been conscious during her cryogenic sleep.
But she had no memory of any such awareness.
This train of thought led her back to her three class-change missions—each uniquely triggered by her alone, as if some unseen will had guided her toward this specific path within the Myriad Realms.
Ye Bai steadied her mind and meticulously reviewed every memory from birth to the present.
With her current psychic abilities, the entirety of her short thirty-year lifespan could be recalled and analyzed in an instant.
Upon closer inspection, she noticed another anomaly she had previously overlooked—her memories of being diagnosed with brain cancer and choosing cryogenic sleep were strangely vague.
She could recall fragmented glimpses, like entering the cryo-pod, but the details were indistinct.
These memories felt like thin, fleeting impressions, a stark contrast to the clarity of the rest of her life.
She remembered the bitterness of coffee during those late nights coding before her cryosleep, the excitement of crafting unique AI logic chains for divine NPCs, and the chill when, ten thousand years later, the new humans awakened her in Antarctica and pressed a personal terminal against her neck to implant data… These details remained vivid in her memory.
Yet now, though she knew she had entered the cryopod, she couldn’t recall further specifics of that moment—her memory of that segment seemed to revert to the hazy clarity of her F-grade psychic abilities at the time.
This was clearly not normal.
A flood of thoughts surged through Ye Bai’s mind. Perhaps she had truly lost her memory at some point, and something unknown had happened during that gap. Otherwise, there was no explanation for her soul’s activity spanning over ten thousand years.
Her psychic energy had always differed from any other spiritual entity she’d encountered. Was it because she had surpassed the soul’s natural limits? Was that why the Star Church’s alarms had triggered, why the data stream had warned her, Do not be discovered?
The class-change quests in Ten Thousand Realms, the blueprints for the Well of Origin, the divine realm that had naturally evolved over countless years… Had all these been influenced by events during her missing memories?
The pieces of the puzzle seemed to connect faintly, but as Ye Bai sorted through the information, she noticed another glaring contradiction in the details—
According to the master terminal’s feedback, her soul had been active for over eleven thousand years.
Yet, after Ye Bai’s cryosleep, Earth had been struck by a meteorite within a decade. Human technology had exploded, leading to their departure, and they had only returned after the discovery of wormholes. Even accounting for possible historical discrepancies, the time gap should have been a century at most—never over a thousand years.
A difference of a thousand versus a hundred years was a tenfold disparity. How could this be explained?
One question led to another, all converging into a deeper, more unsettling doubt in Ye Bai’s mind…
Was she truly the person she believed herself to be?
…
When Ye Bai logged back in, Bai Ye City had already welcomed a new day.
She checked the countdown for the God King’s Treasure Key—just over six days remained. Factoring in the time needed to traverse the Well of Origin, it was time to prepare for departure.
Many mysteries lingered between the game and reality, but Ye Bai had an intuition that they were all intricately connected in ways she couldn’t yet grasp.
The greatest secret of the divine realm was the truth behind the God King and the Great Annihilation. Ye Bai hoped this journey would bring her closer to answers.
But before heading to the divine realm, there was one crucial matter she couldn’t overlook.
Ye Bai left the lord’s manor and made her way to the Tree of Genesis. Along the path, residents greeted her warmly.
Returning their waves, she reached the Tree of Genesis and placed a hand on its trunk.
[Conditions for upgrading to Level 8 territory have been met. Proceed?]
[Yes]
After some time, the previously unmet requirement of “full-time education rate”—which had stalled Bai Ye City’s progress—was finally fulfilled. But the prompts didn’t end there.
[Conditions for upgrading to Level 9 territory have been met. Proceed?]
[Yes]
The conditions for Level 9 territory were a Void Capture Device and 150 combat units at Level 60. Normally, the transition from Level 8 to 9 marked the phase where player territories began competing for resource points, emphasizing military development.
Thanks to Ye Bai’s relentless dungeon grinding, Bai Ye City now met both requirements.
A flash of light swept through, and the bells rang out across the city once more.
To the residents, this was no longer a novelty. They calmly resumed their tasks, preparing for the evening’s curfew, while the soldiers—long treated as experience fodder by their lord—eagerly readied themselves for action.
Beyond the NPCs, the players who had been expelled from the territory also understood the familiar scene:
Bai Ye had returned from her travels, so Bai Ye City was upgrading again.
