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

Fufu swung her left hand down suddenly, and a "Sentence Pattern Sword" condensed from the Ring of Language. The blade was blunt and the body was transparent, but with each swing, it cut through the "silence" in space.

She charged toward Mercer, her figure as swift as the wind, yet not a single sword strike landed.

Mercer was not in an "identifiable position" at all.

He is the remnant of meaning scattered in space.

She suddenly realized: this was a gamble of "whoever recognizes the other's existence first".

"I must define him first."

She closed her eyes and began to sketch his image in her mind: a pupil, a curve, the beginning of a saying...

In an instant, Mercer's core area appeared.

A spiderweb-like tentacle of language was locked onto by Fufu—she pierced through it without hesitation with the Juwen Sword.

The silence was deafening!

It wasn't sound, but rather the "density of silence" in the space that collapsed dramatically, as if a thousand words were spoken at once.

The Star Throne trembled slightly, and an invisible declaration appeared—

【Fufu - A Talk with the Watchers, Victory】

The moment the White Night ended, the clouds above the Void Words Mountain range collapsed, and the seven beams of light from the shattered cores of language reappeared, slowly rotating around the Star Garden.

She won.

But she did not show a victorious smile.

Because deep within the Star Garden, a familiar figure stood quietly.

—Noria.

But that was not the Noria we know today.

She wore the battle robes of her former "Word God's Creation" and the "Dream Whisper Crown," and around her was a vast expanse of undefined, lingering ripples of language—

"You... are 'me from the future'?"

Noria smiled softly, but her eyes were full of sorrow.

"No, I am 'the future you choose to speak of'."

She raised her right hand, and a sword formed entirely of silence appeared in the air.

"Come on, Fou."

"Our battle is not about victory or defeat."

"Rather, it's about the choice: should language continue?"

The moment Fufu stepped into "Dream Ridge", the entire land seemed to tremble softly.

This is the edge of the world.

Night and day no longer alternate; the boundary between language and silence floats like mist. Purple mist rises from the forest, entwining the canopy like an unfinished sentence, only to be gently severed by an unseen law.

She glanced back at Noria.

The girl wore a greyish-white traveler's cloak, with silvery feathers tucked into her hair. Her eyes were devoid of light, yet she was more lucid than ever before.

"Are you sure he's in this forest?" Fufu asked softly.

“I’m not sure,” Noria’s voice seemed to come from a very distant place, “but he has started talking. Dreamtalkers don’t lie.”

“…Speak?” Fou frowned. “But didn’t we enter the ‘Silence Barrier’?”

"He said it in his dream."

As soon as he finished speaking, a series of echoes suddenly came from the forest.

"—Listen, don't go near that stone tablet, it will swallow your memories of language."

It was a boy's voice, slightly hoarse and trembling, as if a soul learning to speak for the first time was practicing softly.

Fufu and Noria exchanged a glance and simultaneously drew their respective "Word Blades".

Fou's sword is named "Qiyin," its blade woven from Whisper Silver, and when swung, it resonates with seven layers of sound. Noria's sword, on the other hand, is the Silent One's short blade, named "Yijue," sharp and silent, specifically designed to cut through resonance and deception.

They walked slowly through the spell-like mist in the forest, and a blurry stone tablet gradually appeared in front of them.

The inscription on the stele is inscribed with three lines of faded and illegible characters:

My name no longer exists.

I once spoke of you.

"Boundless Dreams"

“It’s the ‘Word Traces Monument’,” Noria whispered. “It’s a remnant of the old era’s consciousness, where the spirits of words that failed to reach the ‘textual state’ will settle.”

Fufu's fingertips traced the surface of the monument, a chill seeping from her skin into her soul. She abruptly pulled her hand back, only to see the fourth line of the inscription quietly appear:
Do you remember that bird?

—That bird.

She was shocked.

That was the only bird she ever heard talking in her sleep when she was a child in Silent Village. Whenever she fell asleep, it would chirp outside her window, as if bringing her dreams into reality.

“…This monument is reading me,” Fufu murmured.

“It’s trying to trick you into using ‘true language’,” Noria said gravely. “Don’t respond to it.”

But it was too late. Suddenly, a wind of words swept through the forest. It was a whirlwind of abandoned words, carrying billions of unfinished sentences, mixed with questions, exclamations, curses, and prayers, all rushing in at once.

"Step back!" Fufu shouted, raising "Qiyin" high in the air.

The sword light transformed into a seven-layered soundproof barrier, temporarily separating them from the wind and waves. However, within the whispering wind, a figure slowly emerged.

He was a boy dressed in the robes of a scholar from the old era, thin in stature, but with eyes that seemed to hold two bright stars.

He looked up at Fufu and gave her a faint smile.

"Hello, I am the 'first speaker'."

The moment those words were spoken, the mist over Mengyu Ridge instantly froze.

“You…” Fufu gripped her sword tightly, “You are a remnant spirit from before the Dream Chronicle? No, wait… you are still alive.”

"I am a remnant of consciousness in the 'Unspoken Realm.' I was once human." The boy's voice was soft, like a fragment of an incomplete poem carried on the wind.

"You said you were the first to speak—do you remember what your 'first words' were?" Noria suddenly asked, her expression grave.

The young man nodded.

“I remember.” He took a step closer, and a pure look suddenly appeared in his eyes that was almost impossible to look directly at.

"Yes: 'I'm here.'"

Fufu's heart skipped a beat.

At that moment, time and space in Mengyu Ridge seemed to be redefined by these words. The stone tablet trembled, the mist of language flowed backward, and a giant bird composed of pure white language soared from behind the tablet, circling in the sky.

It has no wings, yet it seems as if the entire sky has been unfolded by it.

"The Dream-Talking Bird..." Noria whispered.

The boy reached out his hand to it.

"My first words were to make it exist."

Fufu's hand holding the sword trembled slightly.

She finally understood that this boy was not merely a remnant of the Word of Power.

He is the Son of Language. The remnant of the Eighth Shattered Core, hidden in the land of slumber, awaiting—a true listening.

“I don’t want to be language,” he said. “I just want to be heard again.”

As soon as those words were uttered, everything in the forest fell silent.

Even Noria felt a lump in her throat at that moment.

She wanted to say something, but in the end she just stepped forward and gently hugged him.

The young man was stunned.

"What does it mean?"

“This is our answer here,” Fufu smiled. “In this world, a hug is also a language.”

After circling three times, the spirit bird transformed into a beam of light and entered the boy's chest.

His figure gradually became transparent, yet he brought an unprecedented sense of peace.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now, I wish to enter into silence.”

He vanished into light and dust, and the Word Stele crumbled, transforming into countless words that flew in all directions, like broken feathers scattered across the sky.

Fufu gazed at the countless scattered words and suddenly murmured:

"This unspoken battle... is not about getting everyone to speak."

"It is to preserve—even if it only exists once—the truth of speaking."

She turned to look at Noria.

"Let's continue our journey to the 'World of Whispers'."

Noria nodded.

Two figures stepped into the depths of the misty forest, the wind behind them whispering like poetry.

"I'm here."

“I was heard.”

That's enough.

On the distant edge of the star realm, in the silent void, an unnamed planet quietly awoke. It had no linguistic label, nor was it named by any civilization. But on that night, the planet's heartbeat synchronized with the pulse of the entire universe, as if responding to some ancient call.

In the northernmost reaches of this planet stands an ancient castle covered in ice and snow, known as "Silent Castle." Legend has it that this was once the secluded abode of Il Serko, one of the "Children of Language"—the "Reflector." Now, in the castle's hall, a young girl draped in a silver-white cloak stands silently. Her name is Eileen, a young "Language Scholar" and also Fouf's apprentice.

Before Eileen floated a crystal-clear fragment, a "Symbolic Core" separated from the "Expression Cloud." The core emitted a soft light, reflecting Eileen's resolute gaze. She reached out and gently touched the core; instantly, a warm energy surged into her body.

“I felt… the call of the ‘silent state’,” Eileen murmured. She knew this was not just an academic exploration, but a journey of the soul.

Meanwhile, in the southern part of the planet, a man clad in a long black robe stood on the edge of a cliff, gazing down into the abyss. His name was Leo, a wandering swordsman and one of the "Manifested." Leo's right hand gripped an ancient longsword, its blade inscribed with unknown runes. He closed his eyes, sensing the subtle shifts in the air.

“The power of expression is awakening,” Leo murmured. He knew a new era was dawning, and he had to be prepared.

At the center of the planet, a colossal tree pierces the clouds, known as the "Tree of Words." Beneath it, a woman in a long green dress sits quietly. Her name is Lia, one of the "Returners." Lia's body gradually becomes transparent, as if she is merging with the surrounding nature.

“I feel the call of the ‘Children of Language’,” Lia said softly. She knew that a new journey was about to begin, and she would be one of the guides.

On this nameless planet, three "Children of Language" each sensed the awakening of the "State of Non-Speech." They knew a new era was about to begin, and they would be the key to this transformation. Their destinies were about to intertwine, composing a legend about language, existence, and expression.

In the distant cosmos, Fufu quietly observed the changes on this planet. She knew that the true meaning of the Third Language Era was quietly unfolding on this planet. She whispered, "May you find your own path of expression."

The night wind swept across the mountaintop, cold and sharp as a blade. Blazing blue demonic flames surged and rose between the rocks, casting a slanted silhouette and a slowly opening portal to the realm of language.

Fufu's cloak was torn to shreds by the wind, her silver hair flew wildly, and the language patterns on her forehead trembled like ripples on water. Her right hand tightly gripped the "Silent Pages," a spiritual artifact formed from fragments of ancient language spirits, which was now whispering quietly.

"...The final words have been spoken, the gate to the realm is about to open."

"Where is Noria?" she murmured to herself, her steps never faltering as she stepped into the distorted, dreamlike world behind the door.

What comes into view is a colorless wasteland, the sky is dark, and only fragments like those overflowing from a sea of ​​meaning float in mid-air—the stars are replaced by words, and every stroke whispers a story that has never been told.

This is the innermost layer of the "Deep Prison of Language"—the Domain of Silent Words.

Legend has it that all abandoned languages, unfulfilled vows, and betrayed contracts slumber here until one day they are awakened again by a certain "bearer of the word".

But she didn't come to awaken anything.

She came to destroy.

A glimmer of light suddenly appeared from the gray sea.

"Fufu?"

Her voice was hoarse, carrying a tender disbelief.

Noria stood there—her robes tattered, her left shoulder corroded by the burning of blood, yet she remained upright. Behind her was a massive, ancient pillar of words, inscribed with "The Words of the Beginning."

“You’ve come…” she chuckled, a barrier woven from fragments of verse appearing beneath her feet, “but it’s too late.”

boom--!
A bolt of silvery-white lightning burst down from the clouds of the deepest prison of language, piercing through the center of the wasteland and unleashing a storm of words. Within the storm, whispers roared and cries sang.

"You unleashed the 'Unspoken Technique'." Fufu's expression changed drastically, and runes appeared around her body, protecting her. "Do you know what that is?"

“Of course I know.” Noria’s tone was almost cold. “That is the prototype of the ‘Speech Species,’ the only undefined existence left behind by the God of Language before its self-destruction.”

"You want to lure Him?!" Fufu's eyes widened, and she even forgot to breathe for a moment.

Noria simply smiled and said, "I don't want to attract Him, I want to become Him."

Before she finished speaking, Noria's body suddenly changed drastically—her skin disintegrated into fluid ink, her hair transformed into flowing lines of speech, and her whole being resembled a disordered divine book turning its pages.

"The unspoken body is awakened by me—"

Her voice was like a thousand languages ​​overlapping simultaneously, where all meanings shattered and reconstructed. The world blurred instantly, reality and illusion intertwined, and language ceased to be a tool, becoming existence itself.

"Noria, stop!" Fou flung a page from her book, which exploded into a golden-white halo, stopping the rampaging Yu Yan. "You are not Him! You are just... just Noria, my partner, the Noria who traveled with me through the Silent Whisper Era!"

“Yes, I used to be.” A trace of sadness appeared in Noria’s eyes. “But back then we were just word pickers, pitiful creatures who made a living by picking up words from the ruins.”

She raised her hand, and nine enormous language monuments suddenly rose from the wasteland. Each one was engraved with an ancient word that had been forgotten by the world. These were once forbidden names, nine "true qualities" that had been erased by the God of Language.

"My name is Farewell Soul".

She called out her true name, and the wasteland began to tremble, and the Silent Domain began to collapse.

—This is Noria's betrayal.

But at that moment, Fufu gritted her teeth and unleashed the "Sword of the Stars" that she had mastered.

"I won't let you fall into despair alone."

Above the sky, stars shattered into countless language crystals, converging along the hilt of the sword in her hand, ultimately transforming before her eyes into a longsword entirely formed of language crystal chips, its name being:

Peaceful Words: The Final Chapter of Prayer

—Legend has it that the only weapon of speech that can rival the Unspoken Style.

The sword light slashed down, seemingly splitting the entire Shenyan Domain in two!
Noria retaliated with the power of the Word Monument, and words clashed fiercely in the void, shattering all languages ​​into light fragments that rained down on this heterogeneous battlefield.

The two clashed on the other side of the argument—

Fufu moved with light steps, each step woven from starlight; Noria, on the other hand, became a spirit of words, each counterattack echoing from the deepest hell.

This battle resulted in an irreversible rupture.

As they fought, the distant surface world also began to feel the echoes of the tremors from the Shenyan Domain.

Inside the Hall of the God of Words, the seven sages of the royal court gathered, their expressions solemn.

“The Unspoken Scripture is being restarted,” an old man said in a low voice. “This time it is no longer a test, but a true return.”

"Fou and Noria—one of them will become a god." (End of Chapter)