Game Transmigration: Saving the World Again 1000 Years Later

“Although there are still numerous issues, if I accompany Floral to another timeline, I’ll entrust the affairs in Emerald Province to you. Safeguard this place well. As I mentioned, the time limit is three days. When the time arrives, no matter what occurs, we must terminate this spell and allow Floral’s soul to return to the soul box.”

William communicated one last time.

Despite leaving behind teleportation coordinates and communication methods, he wasn’t certain if information could be synchronized between distinct timelines—most likely not. Hence, he designated a specific time for himself to venture to the other side.

In three days, whether he succeeded or not, he had to come back.

Everyone nodded, their countenances more or less resigned.

After all, the Presiding Judge had reiterated these things to them numerous times en route here.

William manifested no impatience whatsoever. After prompting them to reiterate his instructions, he felt somewhat relieved.

There shouldn’t be any issue. After all, Remides would arrive in Holy Tree City soon. With her at the helm, it shouldn’t be problematic for him to depart for three days.

With this in mind, he shifted his gaze towards Floral, who was already reclining on the altar. The latter assented with a nod, signifying that she was prepared.

William activated his spell.

The mechanisms on the soul box whirled layer by layer, and the runes etched on it abruptly emitted a brilliant radiance before swiftly fading. The ancient box gradually opened with a perilous sound, and something infused with frosty mist and miasma surged out. It promptly materialized in midair, forming a blurry silhouette.

If a soul exited the soul box and remained exposed to the external world for an extended period, it would rapidly undergo a deteriorating transformation. It would eventually forfeit its self-awareness and transform into a ghost and malevolent spirit propelled by recollections and instincts. Hence, the instant the soul box was unsealed, William activated the spell inscribed on the altar. A potent suction force firmly drew it towards the altar and permitted it to seep in gradually.

Since the tree spirit had been temporarily transferred into the Soul Storage Crystal by William, the altar that connected the entire subtree’s core had transmuted into an empty container that could accommodate Floral’s formidable soul.

The spell he had etched on it was solely an interface that could furnish false authorization.

Forcibly thrusting a soul into a cadaver to resurrect the dead was deemed an introductory technique in Undead spells—if one disregarded the wear and tear caused by the incongruity between the two and only employed it as ephemeral fireworks destined to expire,

then for advanced techniques, they were akin to adjusting a clock to maintain a fragile balance between the two and command the dead as servants that could endure for an extended period. Furthermore, they were designed to infuse souls into objects like lich conversion and conserve them for a prolonged duration.

The soul box, or more accurately, the phylactery.

The subtree beneath William’s feet was an immense soul box.

Under usual circumstances, the phylactery would possess a potent defense mechanism that was exceedingly arduous to breach and infiltrate. Nonetheless, with the assistance of William’s spell, Floral’s Divine Realm soul swiftly melded into it.

The soul fragment composed of emerald-green specks of light rapidly took shape in Floral’s guise in front of William.

“Presiding Judge, it appears that I have succeeded?” she surveyed her arm and inquired.

“It’s not deemed a success if you’re still here. Attempt to grasp the shadow of the tree spirit dream and slumber,” William replied.

In any case, it was merely a supposition. Whether the two of them journeyed to another timeline together, or only one of them reached that destination, or the worst-case scenario, there was no way to venture to another timeline… It was wholly unknown what would occur in the end.

However, if he succeeded, he was genuinely intrigued by the experience of timeline hopping.

William gazed at Floral, who was lying on the altar, biding his time for her to transition to another timeline, the one that had commenced to decay.

Then, after waiting for nearly two hours, he began to feel restless.

To be candid, he admired his patience.

So, did it fail?

This question lingered in everyone’s hearts, but no one voiced it. Instead, it transmuted into a peculiar imperceptible pressure that gradually bore down on the relatively spacious Canopy Temple.

William scrutinized Floral, who was still lying on the altar, and contemplated if he should rouse her.

“Presiding Judge… Should we leave?” Nizemar inquired cautiously upon noticing William’s despondent expression.

“There’s no need. You…” William gestured with his hand, but he halted mid-sentence.

A hazy notion materialized in his mind.

“Close your eyes and remain silent,” William instructed.

“What?”

“Just follow my lead.”

As he spoke, he shut his eyes and nullified the detection spells he typically activated.

Several seconds later, only darkness pervaded the Canopy Temple.

William silently tallied his heartbeats. After approximately 120 beats, he reopened his eyes.

The entire temple was deserted; he was the sole occupant.

William snapped his fingers in a frivolous manner that clashed with his demeanor. He murmured a sentence he was fond of, “When you have not seen this flower, it is quiescent within your mind.”

Then, he ambled gradually towards the perimeter of the temple and pushed open the door.

It was already nighttime. Beyond the door, the green hue that evoked vomit and the pink hue that evoked cancer tinted the entire nocturnal sky.

The moon huddled in a corner of the sky like a pallid, deformed stillbirth, smearing the moonlight across the entire Ravenwood Forest, rendering this terrain appear as sickly as if it was infected with obstinate psoriasis.

I’m here, he thought.

…

As the Presiding Judge neglected to specify when they could unseal their eyes, Nizemar and the rest waited for an extended period. Solely when apprehension and inquisitiveness commandeered half of their minds in a 1:1 proportion did she venture,

“Lord William?”

No one responded, so she posed the query again.

After awaiting for a considerable duration, she pried open her eyes with quivering eyelids.

William Kane was no longer present in the Canopy Temple, as if he had never graced this place.

…

As William descended the stairs, he chanced upon a few locals. The flesh on one’s chest had nearly putrefied, and his exposed ribs resembled armor forged from a unique material. The portion above his eyebrows had been shaved off. His eyes revolved like billiard balls in a cup.

The pair nodded courteously at William—he couldn’t help but perspire for the latter. He feared that the orbs in his sockets would dislodge.

William nodded slightly and bowed. Then, he inquired from the fellow with protruding ribs where the Holy Tree Duke was.

“You’re unaware?!”

Unexpectedly, when William posed this question, the other party appeared astounded.

“Should I be?” William inquired composedly.

“I espied that you had just departed from the Canopy Temple and speculated that you were also supplicating for the duke…

“Here’s the gist. The duke previously addressed is in front of the World Tree and publicized that she had undertaken a joint endeavor with the empire and triumphantly apprehended the traitors hiding in the subterranean root system. She intends to execute them all publicly…

“But midway through, she abruptly collapsed without any forewarning and lost consciousness, completely devoid of vital signs. The entire White Bone Castle is in disarray. The Oak Council’s forest druids are entreating us to visit the various Canopy Temples to implore the Holy Tree Matriarch for the duke.”

William expressed gratitude to the duo. Well, at least they regarded him as one of their own… William hastened his pace.

Although he was exceedingly inquisitive about how this group of undead ascertained the so-called vital signs, he roughly comprehended Floral’s predicament.

He had to rendezvous with the other party promptly and ally to locate and eliminate the weakness concealed by the Lady of Starvation within three days.

If feasible, obliterate this timeline entirely.

William employed Eagle Eye to scrutinize the World Tree at the heart of the metropolis.

Then, he couldn’t help but part his lips slightly, and he nearly cursed.

In this timeline, the so-called World Tree resembled a gravid woman cloaked in innumerable maggots and multicolored fungi.

A colossal woman.

It was an ultimate magnified version of the Lady of Starvation’s Void Incarnation he had vanquished in the past.