You said you were going to make games, how did you become the richest man without doing anything?

Starlight spills across the landscape, and night falls at the edge of the Seran Plateau.

Fufu stood at the border of the "Land of Words," draped in a dark blue cloak, with a silver feather-shaped emblem hanging on her shoulder—the mark of the "Guardian of the Old Words," and the final symbol of her identity.

Before her lay a silent wasteland.

It wasn't a silent stillness, but rather a vacuum of existence—a vacuum that even "silence" couldn't describe. Words broke here, magic failed here, and thoughts froze here.

“This is it.” Noria walked forward slowly, the wind blowing through her long, snow-white hair, soft as cotton. “The second fragment of the Language Core… lies within this silence.”

Fufu gritted her teeth.

"Do we really have to go in? I can still feel its rejection—like a 'heart that refuses to be expressed'."

“That’s why,” Noria said softly, her eyes lowered, “we must go. The ‘Unspoken War’ is not about who can speak, but… who can bear the silence.”

After saying that, she took the lead and stepped into the wasteland.

-

In the land of language, there is a color quieter than death.

As soon as Fufu crossed the boundary, the surrounding sounds seemed to be swallowed up by a smooth yet dense veil. She could hear her own heartbeat, but not the sound of her feet crunching on the gravel.

No, it's not that I can't hear—

Rather, it is that "the world has rejected the voice."

"Don't try to chant incantations," Noria suddenly transmitted. Her voice didn't come from the air, but appeared directly in Fufu's sea of ​​consciousness. "The density of language here is too high; the language structure will be distorted."

Fufu nodded, but still couldn't help raising her hand to try to summon a "language barrier".

She uttered only the first verse: "Ulan—"

The space suddenly trembled!
An invisible pressure instantly pressed down on her chest, as if thousands of words were collapsing and exploding at the same time, turning into wordless echoes that tore at the boundaries of her mind.

"Well--!"

She knelt on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

Noria quickly supported her and said coldly, "This is not the place to talk."

"This is a place to listen."

-

They had been deep in the land of Huayu for half an hour.

The sky remained a hazy gray-blue, as if stripped of its concept of time. There was no day, no night, only a sky that "no longer renews."

Suddenly, the ground beneath Fufu's feet shook.

Ahead, a huge rock slowly split open, and a man draped in black cloth emerged from it. He had no eyes, and his face was blank, but the aura emanating from him was ancient and suffocating—as if he had come from an era before the birth of the "first language".

"Who is this..." His voice did not travel through the air, but was "embedded" in Fufu's existence.

To speak, or not to speak.

Noria stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and plunged her silver staff into the silent soil.

“My name is Noria, the last proclaimer of the Old Chronicles.” She raised her head, her gaze resolute. “I have not come to seize the essence of the Chronicles.”

“I am a witness—the son of the Word has returned to his rightful place.”

The man was silent for a moment, then suddenly stretched out a hand with his five fingers spread open.

“Existence is the spell,” he said.

Noria was slightly taken aback, but then she understood. She took a deep breath, letting the fluctuations in her speech subside, and then—let go of all formalities.

The next moment, dust rose from the ground.

A ray of light slowly rose from her palm; it was not magic, not language, and not spirit.

That is the light of "I am".

A pure, unproven existence is revealed.

The man in black stared at her, and finally nodded:
"You are qualified."

The second fragment of the linguistic proto-nucleus then emerged from the void.

-

The fragments are like a mirror, yet they have no light.

The moment Fufu got close to it, she suddenly saw "another version of herself".

That wasn't her image, but "the language she couldn't become": a silent Fufu, a girl who never said "who I want to be".

"Are you willing to be the shield of the unspoken?" asked the mirror-faced Fou.

After a long silence, Fufu finally whispered:
"I do."

The fragments quietly melted into her chest. There was no burning, no conflict, only a warmth, like a fledgling returning to its nest.

[You have obtained the Language Fragment Core - Heart of Silence]

“Let’s go.” Noria turned around, her long hair billowing like a galaxy. “We must find the third one.”

"The Child of Language has begun to awaken."

-

Chapter Two: The Embers of Awakening

Just as Fufu and Noria obtained the second fragmented core, war broke out in the distant "Talan Starfield".

The third fragment of the language—"The Flame of Manifestation"—appeared atop a desolate volcano.

That expresses the most violent shattering of the core.

The Knights under the volcano had already gone mad.

Their commander, Vilan Al, was a former Holy Flame Knight.

Now, his eyes are bloodshot, and his entire body is encased in flames ignited by pure, primal energy. He no longer speaks, but wherever he treads, mountains and rivers ignite.

“Vilan! Stop! You’re burning ‘language itself’!” the adjutant, Igor, roared.

But Vilan did not respond.

He simply raised his hand, and a flame transformed into words:
[Burning, living, me, with, your, pain]

The entire valley was then burned to the ground.

That night, the fire of Talan illuminated the starry sky, shocking the entire system.

By the time Fufu received the message, it was too late.

She gazed at the crimson light fading in the video playback and whispered to Noria:

"Can we... really guide these fragmented cores back into their proper places?"

Noria closed her eyes:

"We can't."

"But we can find—the one who can."

"Who?"

Noria opened her eyes, her gaze as deep as the night:

"She hasn't said her name yet, but she's already speaking."

Chapter 3: The Nameless Girl

Snow fell on Old Xi Town.

This is a border town forgotten by language; the residents are illiterate and do not speak, yet they understand each other.

There was a young girl on the outskirts of town.

She had no name, no surname, and no mouth.

But her eyes could calm a crying baby; her fingers could restore broken porcelain to its original shape; and the streets she walked through were no longer filled with quarrels.

People say she is "the embodiment of words".

No one knew her true identity—she was the guardian of the fifth fragment of the Language Essence Core.

【The Soul of Companionship】

She has not yet awakened.

But Fufu knew that she would be the final key to the future "battle of words and truth." The night wind blew from the East, sweeping past the faded clouds and the blood-stained moon, casting a ghostly blue light on the tips of the leaves in the Forest of Flowing Sounds.

This is the deepest barrier of the Old Language Forest, the place where the fragmented core of language, "The Eye of Silent Words," fell. Night falls, the dense forest is silent. Only irregular patches of light flicker like waves, like a forgotten poem still struggling to be sung.

When Fufu and Noria stepped into this place, it was still dark.

They changed out of the silver-white cloaks that symbolized "shared language and watchful eyes," and donned deep blue robes woven with leyline silk. At their waists hung the "Word-Sharp Short Swords," forged from silver refined through language, their scabbards engraved with ancient inscriptions, like a dormant wind.

"That is... the Eye of Deep Speech?" Fufu stopped and stared at Lin Xin.

In the distance, a ball of light floated slowly in the gaps. It had no specific shape, yet it emanated a tremor like a heartbeat. It was neither magic nor spiritual pressure—but pure "desire to exist."

Noria nodded, her voice as soft as a feather falling on a blade of grass.

"It is waiting for a response."

This is a non-verbal fire ritual. In a place where language has failed, only "fire"—this primal heat and light—can still serve as proof of "being."

The two slowly strolled into the heart of the forest, arranging seven burning platforms around the Eye of Deep Words. On each platform was a "puppet of expression" cast from the remnants of language essence.

Fufu took out the spark of the "Silent Flame," a faint light she had obtained in the snow of the Spirit Realm.

“We can’t speak,” she whispered.

Noria had closed her eyes, lowering her own speech frequency to the "silent frequency domain".

They did not chant prayers, cast spells, or even intend to recite anything—they simply "existed."

Seven burning platforms were lit simultaneously, and the flames instantly reached the sky, like seven pillars of fire leading to the unknown, trembling and breathing in the silent forest.

The Eye of the Deep Words began to rotate, as if responding to the rhythm of the ritual. It was no longer just floating, but beating like a heart, as if trying to imitate the "rhythm of language".

At that very moment—a low sob echoed through the forest.

It was not a human voice, nor the sound of a monster, but rather—"the voice of existence itself."

A young man draped in a cloak of whispered words slowly emerged from the flames. He had no shadow, no physical form; he was simply composed of millions of “unspoken words.”

"Who are you?" Fufu instinctively wanted to ask, but suddenly realized that her language had completely frozen.

She can't hear her own voice.

The young man opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, a string of inverted characters appeared in his eyes, like a spell flowing backward in a dream:
【I am the sixth child of the language—nameless yet formless.】

He is not a person. He is a "sum of states".

Noria slowly knelt down, her palms touching the ground.

The earth began to resonate.

As the light waves from the Eye of Contemplation expanded, the entire Forest of Flowing Sounds transformed into a "Net of Perception and Echoes," mobilizing all trees, beasts, dust, and even the language crystals slumbering underground as carriers of expression.

Language is no longer just sound, but a field.

Form appears, nameless, raising a hand made of words. He doesn't brandish a weapon, but gently points to Fou's chest.

That was the place where she was ignited by the fire of language when she underwent the trial of communion.

You carry with you "unfinished words."

In that instant, Fufu's pupils contracted sharply. The linguistic resonance within her was activated—not by her, but by some deeper "unfinished expression."

Her body trembled slightly as a memory from her childhood flashed into her mind.

That was the first and last time she heard her father's voice:
"—Fufu, remember...you are not a tool of language...you are the source of language..."

Fufu subconsciously drew her Yanfeng short sword, and the blade ignited with "resonance fire patterns," as if some kind of "meaning of existence" was pulsating within it.

“I… am not here to fight.” She heard the voice in her mind.

It is not sound, yet it is manifested in form and nameless "received".

He gently closed his eyes, and his body gradually transformed into countless "semi-solidified morphemes," like a reversed rain, swirling around her to form a "tower of silence."

—The trial has begun.

**
Time stopped inside the tower.

Each step is an "expression of decision".

As Fufu took her first step, the face of an "old communist inquisitor" appeared before her. He coldly questioned:
Why did you give up on languages?

Fufu did not respond, but simply placed the short sword gently in front of her chest, closed her eyes, and sent out a "silent feeling".

—Not an answer, but an existence.

The judge's face contorted and turned into specks of light.

In the second step, she encounters a younger version of herself, who is crying.

“I’m afraid that if I tell them, they’ll know how vulnerable I am…”

Fufu didn't comfort her, but simply hugged that little version of herself quietly. Her breath flowed like a sea of ​​words, weaving fear into "an unspoken coexistence."

Little Fufu stopped crying, transformed into a beam of light, and merged into her body.

The third step, the fourth step... each step is a "word that was never spoken," waiting for a response.

Fufu, on the other hand, never responded with words.

She used the word "become".

To become that understandable state.

Be the one who doesn't need a response.

Become that, the being itself.

**
When she took the final step, the Tower of Silence collapsed, turning into millions of specks of light.

Formless and Nameless stands at the finish line, smiling and opening his arms.

You are expression itself.

He transformed into a pure white "speech-sensory fire core" and gently merged into Fufu's chest.

A sharp pain.

Her consciousness expanded, as if countless fragments of language were exploding and reassembling in her mind.

She is no longer just Fufu.

She is—"the one who coexists".

—A new host for the fire of language.

Flames ignited behind her, forming a pair of wings that were neither material nor energetic, but rather—wings of light composed of the will of "all who want to be heard".

Noria stepped forward and smiled.

"You are no longer a Watcher."

Fufu nodded and responded in a low voice.

“I am—the Caller.”

Dawn broke.

The Forest of Flowing Sounds, like a poem of long-awaited reunion, is finally being sung once more.

A wind blew from the depths of the valley, carrying a chilling, almost detached quality. Fufu wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, standing at the end of the misty bridge, gazing at the colossal mountain range floating between the sky and the earth's veins—Mount Xuci.

Legend has it that it is the place where "words cease to exist." Any language that reaches there will become ineffective and turn into silence; any attempt to record it will turn into empty symbols of nothingness.

Today marks the once-in-a-century "White Night Festival".

“We can no longer locate the way ahead with words.” Noria’s voice rang in her ear, her tone calm but with a hint of tremor. “We can only—go in.”

Fufu nodded and strode resolutely toward the mist bridge. Behind her, the "Silent Knights" stood silently in formation, clad in plain silver armor and carrying longswords engraved with "The Unspoken Oath" on their backs.

"Everyone, cut off the subtext," Fufu commanded in a low voice.

With a thought, the resonance cores within each person dimmed, and their consciousness was compressed into a grain of black sand. Without the convenience of subtext, they could only rely on each other's breath and footsteps as signals to advance into the depths of Mount Xuci.

The mountain seemed to have no end, and walking through it was like walking through a long sentence without punctuation. Every gust of wind carried the echo of unspoken words, and occasionally a whisper would slip past your ear—like your mother tongue, or like a prayer you had never heard in a dream.

“This place… feels like a world before language was invented,” Noria murmured.

Fufu suddenly stopped, her eyes fixed on the distance like arrows.

"See that monument?"

Before a massive rock covered in white moss, a towering black monument stood like a shadow in the night. It bore no words, no inscriptions, but the moment Fufu approached, a silent voice suddenly resonated in everyone's heart:
"This concludes all that can be said. From now on, let us act without further words." (End of Chapter)