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

The sky seemed to have been ripped open by a massive rift. Sound and light flowed out from the azure expanse, like the final sigh of a god descending from the clouds. The Sound Relics trembled violently, and the rhythm and structure that supported its existence were completely disrupted in the aftershocks of Jingze's "Unspoken Words." Fragments of syntax even began to appear in the air, like torn language turning into dust of light, settling on everyone's faces.

"Come on!"

Fou turned and called out, grabbing Noria's hand, who was still in a daze, and rushed towards the collapsed exit of the ruins. One stone slab after another broke and collapsed under their feet, and the dome, which had lost its structural support, shattered behind them. The rumbling sound was like the tolling of an ancient bell, sending this divine realm of their memories to its grave.

But no one managed to run very far.

Boom-!
A deep, resounding thud, like the heavy drumbeat from the depths of language, followed by a figure slowly rising from the center of the collapse. It was Jingze. He had not fallen. He still stood in the center, his silver hair fluttering in the light, his eyes slightly closed, the Blade of Final Words still humming softly in his hand.

"Jingze!" Fufu called out.

He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze now filled with a light no longer capable of being held by humankind. He stepped onto the crumbling central altar, as if an invisible rhythm was lifting him up, carrying him step by step toward the collapsing sky.

“Fou, Noria.” His voice was ethereal and distant, yet it penetrated directly into their hearts. “The ‘unspoken words’ are just the beginning. I must send you out, but I must stay here… to ignite the final melody.”

"No! Don't say that!" Fufu rushed forward, wind elements gathering beneath her feet, as if to lift her towards Jingze. "We can leave together! Together—"

“There’s no other way.” Jingze smiled, a smile that carried a resolute gentleness. “I am already bound to the language foundation of this relic. From the moment I released the ‘unspoken words,’ I became its echo.”

"Nonsense!" Noria roared, her Star Law Book transforming into a sonic blade as she hurled it into the air. "Who gave you permission to decide your own destiny?! Who said you had to sacrifice yourself?! Who said you could bear all this alone and solve it all?!"

“It wasn’t my decision,” Jingze said softly, raising the Blade of Final Words once more, pointing it at the cracked dome above his head. “It was ‘Yuzhi’ that responded to me.”

The next instant, the entire ruins turned into spinning dust.

A massive circular ring emerged from behind him—the very core of the sound-creating ruins—the "Ring of the Beginning Sound." It was once the origin of the Kanriyan civilization, but now, it spun and glowed behind Jingze, releasing the final echoes of its language. Each ring's rotation stirred countless rhythms, like a symphony of star orbits.

“Send them out,” he whispered to the Ring of Origin.

"Accept." The response was like a thousand words converging into a divine echo in an instant.

In that instant, a spell mark flashed beneath Fou and Noria's feet. Wind, Star, Sound, Spirit—four ancient languages ​​intertwined, transforming into a teleportation emblem that enveloped them both.

"No—! Jingze!"

Their figures distorted in the light, swept away from the ruins on the verge of destruction by the torrent of grammar. Jingze simply watched them depart with a smile.

The light and dust scattered like a starry sea.

He stood at the end of the shattered silence, his gaze fixed on the unspoken void. In the final murmur of the Blade of Final Words, he whispered one last thing:
“Silent words, I have arrived.”

The entire sound-making site vanished at that moment.

When the light faded and their consciousness returned, Fufu and Norlia had been transported back to a valley somewhere in the southern part of the continent of Kanria. Night fell, the stars were so clear they seemed about to fall, and the wind carried the echo of words—the last phrases Jingze had left in their souls.

"He wouldn't just...die like that, would he?" Noria knelt on the ground, her hands covering her head, her voice hoarse.

Fufu did not answer. In her palm, a silver-white sound pattern was slowly burning, the "unspoken lingering charm" left to her by Jingze. After connecting himself with "language essence," he entrusted a part of the origin of language to her—that is to say, his existence had not been completely extinguished.

She raised her head, her gaze piercing through the starry sky:
"I'm going to find him."

A few days later, the news spread like wildfire throughout the world—the Sound Creation Ruins had completely collapsed, the "Speech God Structure" had been destroyed, unspoken words had been released, the musical scales of the southern region of the Kanria continent had been reconstructed, and both the language and magic systems showed signs of disorder and regeneration.

Meanwhile, new changes are quietly brewing in various places.

In the "Old Poetry Kingdom" located in the northern tundra, an ancient poet who has been asleep for a thousand years awakens from his ice prison; in the distant Eastern Spirit Pattern Islands, a stone tablet that sealed the "God of the End of the Sentence" suddenly breaks; even in the depths of the Sea of ​​Speechlessness, the legendary echoes of the "First Language" show faint signs of revival.

The world, after Jingze ignited the unspoken, is stepping into a new era of discourse.

Meanwhile, Fufu and Noria, carrying unfinished business, embarked on a journey to find Shizuzawa.

This is a world where the mute have returned.

This is also the true beginning of the unspoken war.

On a night when starlight faded, the wind blew from the edge of the silent wilderness, swirling up fragments of faded words. Fufu stood atop the suspended, crumbling steps of words, gazing down at the collapsed old world of language beneath her, her eyes reflecting the twisted, abyss-like deep blue. She gripped the "Unspoken Blade" at her waist, the sword long since torn and reshaped by the God of Language, now reduced to a broken blade, yet still radiating a faint glow.

"Did we really... reach the third level?" Noria knelt to the side, clutching her shoulder. Blood flowed down her fingers, but it was no longer red; instead, it was a faintly silvery trail—a sign of being "corroded by the end of a sentence."

Fufu didn't speak, she just nodded.

She could sense an unprecedented "silent oppression" seeping in from all directions. Language had lost its protective function, and even the most basic cognition was beginning to break down. She had once thought that the "Linguistic God" was the highest level of linguistic consciousness, but at the end of the sound-making ruins, in the "unfinished sentence" they had opened, what was sealed far surpassed the logic of the Linguistic God.

That was the "final farewell".

The source of the "final farewell" is the world they have now entered—the End of the Sentence Era.

The black stream of words flowed like a river beneath their feet, and fragments of old language swirled in the air like unreadable manuscript pages.

The three of them fell out of the broken tower of words and landed in a wasteland called "Mirror Plain".

The sky here is frozen in ink, the stars hanging haphazardly like altered periods. Scattered on the ground are fragments of crystalline writing, like the corpses of a language stripped of its original order. A wind blows, carrying a hissing, auditory hallucination—not in any language, but a kind of "premonition."

"—The language here has no past or future," Fufu said softly, as if talking in a dream, or as if reaffirming her own existence.

"Then can we still—can we still talk?" Noria asked in a low voice.

Fufu remained silent.

Their speech began to become delayed and incoherent.

For example, Noria's words seemed to be trimmed by some kind of rule in the air, with the ending sound indistinct, as if some kind of automatic syntax modification system was running.

“Someone’s coming.” Lilia stood up, her robes of illusion stripped of their luster, but her eyes shone with a faint, magical light. “Not a race we know, nor a remnant of the Word Gods—it is… the Sentence End Apostle.”

In the distance, a humanoid creature emerged from the darkness, draped in a cloak that appeared to be pieced together from black question marks. His face was completely obscured by symbols, making his expression impossible to discern. In his hand, he held a scepter composed of inverted periods, and with each step he took, a new trace of vanished language appeared on the ground.

“Apostle at the end of the sentence.” Fufu drew her sword and rose to her feet. The broken “Unspoken Blade” emitted a faint vibration, as if it had sensed its kind.

"Those who enter this sentence, our lord already knows of your existence." The creature's voice didn't travel through the air, but was directly written into the brain. Its "voice" was like a line of words, etched deep into Fufu's mind, irresistible: "Our lord desires to see you, and you cannot refuse." "We are not here to surrender." Fufu raised her sword, her gaze icy.

"Not a summons, but a command."

The next moment, the creature teleported in front of the three, swung its scepter, and the word order in the space shattered like a lens. Fufu reacted immediately, slashing out a streak of light in an attempt to break the closed space of the sentence-ending law.

But the broken sword shattered with a single, faint sound.

“The language is incomplete, the sentence is finished.” The apostle uttered this poetic judgment in a low voice at the end of the sentence, and Noria and Lilia immediately knelt down, as if forcibly suppressed by some irresistible “grammatical control”.

But Fufu did not fall down.

Her consciousness became even clearer the moment the sword shattered.

She saw an ancient inscription emerging beneath her feet—a passage of "empty words" that she had copied from the mute inscription atop the Yuyuan Mountain.

"If there is no one to speak, the cycle will continue indefinitely."

Those were traces of "pre-word language," something considered taboo by the relics of sound creation. But now, in the realm of the end-of-sentence era, this text seems to have found a home for its echoes.

“You cannot bind me,” Fufu murmured, “because I no longer belong to this sentence structure.”

She reached out and plucked a wisp of light from the fragments of the broken sword, channeling it into her chest.

"Start-up - Echoes Before the Words"

The ethereal light transformed into a melodic incantation, spreading from her chest and forming a swirling vortex of language in the air. All the inverted, broken, and alienated characters began to recombine and sing within the vortex, constituting an ancient mantra:

"My name is not a word, but a phrase beyond words."

At the end of the sentence, the apostle's body stiffened for a moment, as if he had been struck by some incomprehensible shock. His mask began to peel away, revealing a face as white as paper, without eyes, without a mouth, only a line of faintly floating ink:

—You are not the inheritor of the language god structure.

—You are…the one outside the words.

“Not bad.” Fufu looked up, a new flame igniting in her eyes, a more ancient and dangerous morphological light.

“I am not their continuation, I am—the 'punctuation' that will destroy this language war.”

"I will... personally end this meaningless sentence."

“The wind has changed.” Deep within the distant Star Language Palace, the ancient queen, seated on her throne, raised her head and gazed at the sky, which had lost its original appearance.

“Zhong Ci has awakened,” she murmured, her voice filled with lingering sorrow.

And in the niche behind her, the true blade, which had been sealed with the "unfinished chapter" since the creation of the world, also began to glow faintly.

As night fell and the stars dimmed, Fufu and Noria stepped into the forbidden land known as the "Liar's Rift." This was the edge where language and reality met; legend had it that any creature that entered this place would be swallowed up by unknown grammatical rules, becoming a silent existence.

“The air here… seems to be filled with unfinished sentences,” Noria murmured, a hint of unease flashing in her eyes.

Fufu nodded, the "Unspoken Blade" in her hand trembling slightly, as if responding to the surrounding whispers. She knew that this sword was not only a weapon, but also a bond connecting her and Jingze.

Suddenly, a dark shadow darted out from the crack, transforming into a gigantic beast made of words, baring its fangs and claws as it pounced on them. Fufu swiftly swung her sword, severing the beast's forelimbs, and fragments of words scattered in all directions.

"These monsters... are they transformed from abandoned words?" Noria looked at the remains on the ground in surprise.

“Yes, they are the resentments of forgotten languages,” Fufu replied calmly. “We must find the path to the ‘Land of Final Words’ as soon as possible.”

The two continued onward, traversing a forest of inverted periods, proceeding cautiously with each step, lest they stumble upon hidden grammatical traps. In a spacious plaza, they encountered a mysterious old man, draped in a robe woven from ancient script and wielding a staff made of commas.

"Are you travelers searching for the 'Final Farewell'?" The old man's voice seemed to come from ancient times, carrying a profound sense of history.

“Yes, we must stop the collapse of language,” Fufu answered firmly.

The old man nodded and took out a key made of ellipses from his pocket. "This is the key to the 'Land of Final Words,' but you must pass the 'Semantic Trial.'"

"A semantic trial?" Noria asked, puzzled.

“Yes, only those who truly understand the essence of language can pass the trials and enter the ‘Land of Final Words’,” the old man explained.

Fufu took the key, took a deep breath, and said, "We're ready."

The old man waved his staff, and a door made of quotation marks slowly opened, leading to an unknown trial ground. Fufu and Noria exchanged a glance and resolutely stepped through the door.

The trial grounds were a desert made of verbs, where every step required the correct verb voice to advance. They walked cautiously, constantly paying attention to the changes in the words beneath their feet.

At the edge of the desert, they encountered a guard made of question marks. "Answer me one question before you can pass," he said.

"Excuse me," Fufu replied.

"What is the essence of language?" the guard asked.

After a moment of contemplation, Fufu replied, "Language is a bridge connecting the mind and the world; it is a tool for expression and understanding."

The guard nodded, then vanished into thin air like a gust of wind. A door made of exclamation marks appeared before them, leading to the "Land of Final Farewell."

As Fufu and Noria stepped through the door, they were greeted by an ocean of sentences, its waves surging. In the center of this ocean, Shizuzawa stood on an island made of quotations, holding the "Blade of Final Words," awaiting their arrival.

"You've finally arrived," Jingze said with a smile.

“We’ll help you finish the final battle,” Fufu replied firmly.

The three stood side by side on the island, facing the impending storm of words, preparing to meet the final challenge. (End of Chapter)