Woke Up to Find the Game I Made Came True-Chapter 98

The howling wind rushed past Ye Bai's ears as she rode on Autofis's back. She could tell this was no ordinary donkey—its speed far surpassed her own 40th-level agility, even with the Featherlight Set equipped.

This time, with Autofis cooperating, Ye Bai wasn’t jostled around wildly like during their first reckless sprint. Strangely, despite the breakneck pace, she didn’t feel the usual resistance from the wind. Instead, an indescribable sense of weightless grace enveloped her.

She had witnessed Autofis’s ghostly speed firsthand in the dungeon, but experiencing it herself was another matter entirely. No wonder this creature had dared to snatch treasures right under the nose of a Dragonborn Lich!

Well, to be precise—considering the Dragon Tongue Spirit Whistle and the Tome of Death it had retrieved—Autofis might have even slipped away from the gaze of a Bone Dragon itself.

A divine donkey truly lived up to its name.

Heading eastward, Ye Bai felt Autofis swiftly carry her through terrain littered with wreckage from the Sky City. The scattered white boulders gradually thinned until they vanished altogether.

Autofis traversed the desolate plains, eventually arriving at a raised platform where the ruins of a nearly obliterated structure stood.

As they drew closer, Ye Bai studied the faint remnants of foundations and deduced this had once been a border fortress. Now, only crumbling walls remained.

Autofis halted at the edge, and Ye Bai dismounted.

The distinct architecture of a border fortress suggested it belonged to the Kingdom faction—one of the divine realms’ major powers, embodying order and light. In appearance and racial preference, the Kingdom faction most resembled what mortals would call "humans."

However, as one of the higher-tier divine-blooded races, the Kingdom’s denizens bore the lineage of light. Unlike ordinary humans in the mortal realms, whose potential typically capped at level 60, the Kingdom’s awakened wielded the power of light, mastering not only their innate abilities but also magic and combat techniques from other races. They were the ultimate versatile faction.

The Kingdom occupied the central regions of the divine realm, divided into three grand duchies. These duchies coexisted as an autonomous alliance, bound by intricate marital ties. Each aligned closely with a top-tier race: the Voidlings, High Elves, or the Abyssal Dwellers, granting their members access to specialized magics.

For players entering the divine realm without switching races, pledging to a duchy offered a path to acquiring high-tier items and skills through faction rewards—even if they couldn’t attain the pinnacle professions of those allied races.

As for the other factions—the Ancient Dragons and the Infernal Pact—the former stood aloof, an absolute neutral faction beyond player conversion, where only goodwill could be earned. The latter embodied chaos, locked in perpetual internal strife.

One faction disdained all others equally; the other warred against everything indiscriminately. Neither fostered alliances.

Who knew how long this divine realm had evolved? If this border fortress near the Sky City still bore traces, it likely belonged to either the Voidling-aligned Duchy of Gawa or the Abyssal Dweller-aligned Duchy of Puli. Both shared borders and held territories close to the Sky City.

Then again, even the duchies’ names might have changed by now.

Ye Bai stepped into the ruins and soon spotted the teleportation circle mentioned by the Paper Figure, nestled within the most intact structure at the center.

"Here it is."

The Paper Figure materialized atop the circle’s arcane inscriptions, gesturing for her attention.

Unlike before, Ye Bai—now a third-tier Historian—came prepared. She pulled out her newly acquired Archaeologist’s Magnifying Glass and scrutinized the magical script.

[You have discovered the ‘Unnamed Border Fortress Ruins.’ You gain 10 History EXP and 10,000 EXP.]

[You gain +1 proficiency in Voidling Tongue.]

Though the details remained vague, the newly acquired Voidling Tongue proficiency confirmed these ruins once belonged to the Duchy of Gawa, aligned with the Voidlings.

The Voidlings, shrouded in secrecy and devoted to the pursuit of ultimate knowledge, were masters of magic. Their language wasn’t merely a medium for spells—it was the very foundation from which all arcane scripts derived.

Across the divine and mortal realms, the inscriptions on rituals, arrays, and scrolls traced their roots to Voidling Tongue, later branching into diverse schools of magic.

Ye Bai wished she could learn the Voidtongue language as easily as she had mastered Ancient Dragon Speech, but this was merely a border outpost of a principality allied with the Voidkin. The only thing related to Voidtongue here was the currently broken teleportation array.

Indeed, this was clearly an incomplete teleportation array. Even though it was the best-preserved artifact in these ruins, a portion of it was still missing.

As if sensing Ye Bai’s thoughts, the paper figure walked over to the missing section of the array and explained:

"Though this teleportation array is damaged, I can use my own ‘essence’ to reconstruct the missing part, restoring its original function. However, it will still require your spiritual energy to activate it."

"Only spiritual energy? What about this?" Ye Bai reached into her backpack and pulled out a high-grade Source Crystal.

Nearby, Autofis’s eyes gleamed with interest at the radiant crystal. He trotted over and sniffed it curiously.

The paper figure’s expression brightened. "Oh, of course! This would work even better."

"Good." Ye Bai nodded in satisfaction. As long as it was usable, she was relieved—she had worried her prepared ‘hard currency’ might be useless here.

"Such pure energy is quite rare. Many would gladly trade for these crystals," the paper figure remarked, then added cautiously, "But you should be wary of those who might covet them."

"I understand," Ye Bai agreed.

The currency used in the Ten Thousand Realms held no value in the Divine Realm. Here, each race had its own preferred medium of exchange—essentially ‘faction currency.’ Players venturing into this advanced zone had to either earn or barter for local currency to trade with different factions.

Earning meant taking on faction quests, while bartering required knowing each race’s preferences. The one universally accepted commodity across all factions? Pure energy.

In the Divine Realm, Source Crystals like the one in Ye Bai’s hand were as good as universal currency.

That was why, on both her visits, she had carried a stash of them—just in case.

Her last trip to the underground city had gone smoothly, leaving the crystals unused. Now, faced with a teleportation array, they finally came in handy.

Even in the Ten Thousand Realms, teleportation arrays fundamentally ran on energy. Cities simply converted that cost into coin, skimming a profit from users. Once Ye Bai upgraded her territory to city status, she could build her own array, supply the energy, and become the profiting middleman.

According to the paper figure, the damaged array could still function by draining Ye Bai’s spiritual energy. But Source Crystals were far more practical. The Divine Realm was fraught with danger, and as a spellcaster, keeping her mana reserves topped up was non-negotiable.

Before leaving, Ye Bai meticulously combed the ruins with her magnifying glass, ensuring no clues were overlooked. Only then did she proceed with the teleportation.

The paper figure’s outline dissolved, transforming into Voidtongue runes that matched the array’s design, seamlessly filling the gaps and restoring it to wholeness.

Following instructions, Ye Bai slotted a Source Crystal into a node to power the array.

Click.

As the crystal locked into place, the surrounding magical circuits flared to life. After who knew how long dormant, the teleportation array glowed once more.

Without delay, Ye Bai stepped into the light, Autofis at her side.

Their figures vanished from the platform.

Almost the instant they disappeared, a sharp crack echoed through the array. The light flickered and died.

All that remained was a shattered, dull crystal—and the array, whole for mere moments, reverted to its broken state.

---

The familiar rush of teleportation faded, and Ye Bai blinked as her surroundings resolved into a new platform—this one lacking any visible array beneath her feet.

Even with the paper figure’s repairs, the damaged border array hadn’t offered the precision of the Ten Thousand Realms’ intact systems. No destination selection—just blind luck.

Evidently, the border array had dumped her at a one-way exit point.

But given that the Highva Principality had built it, they’d surely linked it only to secure locations under their control. Danger was unlikely.

Ye Bai glanced to her side, where Autofis stood quietly beside her. She then pulled out a magical scroll and spotted the familiar silhouette of the Paper Figure on it.

Confirming no one had been left behind, Ye Bai finally took a moment to survey her surroundings.

The teleportation array was enclosed by stone walls, and based on the structure, Ye Bai deduced this was likely some sort of watchtower.

Though the building was in far better condition than the ruined border fortress she had arrived from, the place was just as deserted. A faint breeze drifted through the windows, carrying the stale scent of neglect.

Ye Bai stepped off the platform and began inspecting the area.

Rotting torches, thick layers of dust, cobwebs draped like curtains, shattered porcelain shards… Everything bore witness to the watchtower’s long abandonment.

"There’s no one nearby," the Paper Figure chimed in, using its unique ability to sense danger for Ye Bai.

Nodding, Ye Bai headed toward the only exit.

The corridor was unlit, but rectangular windows high on the walls let in sunlight, casting just enough illumination to navigate by.

"Tap, tap, tap…"

As Ye Bai walked down the hallway, the sound of wind and the harsh cawing of birds echoed from outside.

Then, as she rounded a corner, her footsteps halted abruptly, and she drew a sharp breath.

Crouched in the corner was a gaunt, skeletal figure.

"Gah!"

Startled—having only been on guard for traps—Ye Bai took a moment to realize the huddled shape was nothing more than a skeleton wrapped in tattered cloth.

"Uh," the Paper Figure on the scroll hastily clarified, "I meant no living people."

"…" ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍Exhaling in exasperation, Ye Bai collected herself and pulled out her archaeological magnifying glass to examine the remains.

The skeleton had been thoroughly desiccated, its flesh long decayed, leaving only bones that resembled the skeletal specimens in biology textbooks.

Corpses and skeletons were common sights in the game, and after her dungeon experiences, Ye Bai had grown quite accustomed to them. If anything, what had startled her wasn’t the body itself but the possibility of encountering an "undead monster."

The skeleton’s clothing had mostly rotted away, reduced to blackened, indistinguishable scraps. But under Ye Bai’s magnifying glass, a faint metallic glint caught her eye.

A system prompt soon followed:

[You have discovered ‘Fragment of the Gaowan Sentinel’s Chainmail.’ You gain 2 History EXP. You gain 1000 EXP.]

Without her archaeological tools, Ye Bai might have missed this subtle clue. Still, judging by the modest reward, it likely only tied to this sentinel’s personal quest.

The only useful takeaway was confirming that this area belonged to the Gaowan Duchy.

Finding nothing else of note, Ye Bai stood up, ready to move on—only to realize Autofis, who had been by her side moments ago, had vanished.

Her heart skipped a beat as she hurried forward in search.

Following the passage, she soon stepped out of the watchtower’s entrance.

Outside, the scene was no less bleak than the abandoned structure.

A wide road stretched from the watchtower toward distant hills, atop which stood a dark, indistinct fortress, its details blurred by distance.

The surrounding area was a dilapidated town, long past its prime.

Desolation stretched as far as the eye could see.

The town looked as though it had been ransacked countless times. There were no crops, no intact or respectable buildings—just clusters of ramshackle hovels, patched together haphazardly, their surfaces grimy and blackened.

Ye Bai had never imagined her first glimpse of a divine realm’s settlement would be so grim.

As her gaze swept the area, it suddenly froze.

She had worried Autofis might pull another disappearing act, but just outside the watchtower, she spotted the familiar gray figure.

Autofis stood beside a crumbling wall, curiously sniffing at a wildflower sprouting from the cracks. It took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, then spat it out in distaste.

Not far off, three children wrapped in coarse linen watched it with wide-eyed fascination.

People!

Ye Bai’s spirits lifted. Meeting living souls was a good sign—she could ask these children about the area.

Changing into a plain villager’s shirt and trousers to appear less threatening, Ye Bai stepped out of the watchtower and approached them.

Yet before she could even reach Autofis, the moment the children caught sight of her—

The three children immediately became agitated, jumping up like startled birds before scattering like mice exposed in the open, vanishing into the surrounding dark shanties in the blink of an eye.

"That shouldn't be…"

Ye Bai was stunned. Never before had she made a mistake when interacting with NPCs. She glanced down at her outfit—plain, ordinary villager attire. Seeing how the three children were dressed in tattered, grayish burlap, clearly impoverished, she had deliberately avoided anything flashy or expensive. To avoid frightening them further, she had even stowed her Snowblade away in her backpack.

Yet, they hadn’t even given her a chance to speak.

Autofis sidled up to Ye Bai, grinning mockingly before pointing at the abandoned watchtower she had emerged from.

"Was it because I came out of there?"

Autofis nodded, then opened its mouth to beg for bread again.

This time, though Ye Bai had brought more bread, Autofis’s demands had also increased in frequency—especially since these loaves were the "plus" version. Unlike the plain dough-baked bread from before, the current batch was infused with butter, thanks to the dairy cows now raised in Baiye Town. The rich, buttery aroma was impossible to ignore.

"Only if you promise not to run off again."

After securing Autofis’s reluctant nod, Ye Bai handed over the bread.

Once the bread was dispensed, Ye Bai turned her gaze back to the desolate town. Evening had fallen, and the setting sun cast a dull glow over the lifeless ruins. If not for the three children she had just seen, she might have believed the place completely uninhabited.

Children were usually the least guarded in any area, yet the way those three had reacted suggested that even if there were people here, they had no intention of engaging with her.

After a moment’s thought, Ye Bai transformed her Thousand Illusion Garment into a gray, hooded cloak and ventured deeper into the chaotic ruins, following the path the children had fled. Autofis trailed behind her.

Clang!

"Wait—"

As she passed the corner of a half-collapsed house, Ye Bai heard the accidental clatter of something being knocked over and caught sight of a thin, shadowy figure. Before she could finish calling out, the figure darted away like a startled rabbit, disappearing into the ruins.

[Slow]

The agile figure suddenly slowed, as if sinking into quicksand.

Ye Bai hurried forward. "I mean no harm. I just want to ask you—"

The person curled into a tight ball, clutching their head in terror.

Realizing words wouldn’t work, Ye Bai instead held out a loaf of bread.

Sensing no attack and lured by the sweet scent, the figure finally lifted their head.

Ye Bai saw a gaunt face—whether an elderly man or middle-aged woman, it was impossible to tell—their features hollowed by hunger. At the sight of the bread, their pupils dilated, torn between fear and desperate longing.

Then, in the blink of an eye, they snatched the bread from Ye Bai’s hand and shoved it into their mouth—no chewing, just swallowing, faster even than Autofis.

"Don’t worry, take your time," Ye Bai said softly, watching as the bread was finally gulped down. "I’m just passing through. Can you tell me where this is? Is this the Kingdom of Gaowa?"

"Ga… wa…" The person repeated the words woodenly, their eyes flickering with uncertainty, as if unsure whether they understood.

Ye Bai hesitated, then rephrased her question. "Have you seen any strange people around here—?"

Before she could finish, the person suddenly shrieked:

"Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!"

They thrashed, trying to scramble away. Ye Bai grabbed their arm, but the lingering effects of [Slow] made escape impossible. Overwhelmed by helplessness, the person’s fear spiraled into frantic, delirious cries:

"Evergreen… withers… the sky falls… the King’s… conquest… never ends… wuu…"

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"The King’s curse… the King’s name… none dare—"

At those words, Ye Bai’s grip loosened in shock. The spell’s duration expired, and the person wrenched free, fleeing into the ruins.

But Ye Bai no longer cared to stop them. The fragmented chant sounded like a bard’s ominous ballad—and its implications were anything but ordinary.

Evergreen withers, the sky falls.

Those two lines, heavy with symbolism, instantly brought to mind the Jade Forest and the Celestial City.

And the mention of a King—was this the ruler of a kingdom, or… the God-King?

The reference to "conquest" was even more troubling. Ye Bai had always assumed the chaos in the divine realm, as described by Paperman, was the result of warring factions. But this chant suggested something else—that the God-King himself might be the driving force behind it all.

Ye Bai stood still for a moment, lost in thought. He felt he had gathered quite a bit of information, yet it remained frustratingly vague. By the time he snapped out of it, he looked up to find that night had fully descended.

"Where am I supposed to find these Cult of the Inferno believers?"

The question slipped out almost instinctively. The method suggested by the paper figure didn’t seem easy to pull off. Cultists were usually elusive by nature, hard to track down in the first place. And the people in this area seemed unwilling to engage with outsiders, let alone divulge the whereabouts of such secretive figures.

To his surprise, the paper figure on the magic scroll responded, "Don’t worry, Lord Bai Ye. Once night falls, they’ll come out on their own."

Ye Bai: "…Huh?"

Come out on their own? That wasn’t what he’d expected at all!

As if to prove the paper figure right, no sooner had it spoken than Ye Bai spotted flickering flames in the distance.

Upon closer inspection, the light came from figures draped in coarse gray robes. They moved in orderly silence, weaving through the dull, ramshackle huts before forming into lines—slithering like slender snakes—all converging toward a single destination.

The entire procession was eerily soundless, carrying an indescribable air of strangeness.