This time I chose Paladin.

Chapter 211 Solo Travel? Message. Heading to Pingdu!

The familiar pulling sensation suddenly intensified, and Nie Weiyang's consciousness seemed to be thrown into a dazzling tunnel, traversing immeasurable distances of time and space.

When the surrounding scenery stabilized again, he began to experience another person's life.

This is an era resembling the Middle Ages, yet one of racial diversity. Magic is not merely a legend; rudimentary machinery powered by magical technology coexists with ancient agriculture.

The change of kings here is extremely rapid. The old religion has just been destroyed, the religious leader has killed others and then been killed, and the king who killed him was immediately killed by the new king. The new king was killed by the nobles, and the nobles and the newer king were killed by the people. The people were killed by all of this...

The killing and death continued for centuries, an indescribable emptiness permeated the air, and people's faces bore the bewilderment of a lost faith.

War, destruction, and uncertainty. Everywhere in the world, there are hearts with nowhere to turn; some turn to the heavy earth beneath their feet to pray, while others look up to the boundless starry sky, yearning for a response.

Year after year, the collective will seemed to resonate in some way, and the planet itself seemed to begin to nurture a vague consciousness, while from the depths of the starry sky, an indescribable gaze was cast upon it.

The dominant forces of this era are 'black and white magic', which have given rise to many professions based on these. Black magic is mainly about attacking, destroying, annihilating, and annihilating life, while white magic is mainly about defense, healing, sealing, and even—creating life.

Every magician, if they cannot guarantee that they will only use one type of magic, must maintain a relative balance between black and white magic in the days to come.

The protagonist of the story, who is also Nie Weiyang, is a boy named Baiya.

He was born in a remote and dilapidated village, where he grew up, farmed, and received basic militia training.

He and several childhood friends made a naive yet sincere vow under the starry sky: to become the world's most powerful white magician and heal the world's wounds.

However, disaster struck in the year they came of age.

A war erupted between a sect that worshipped planetary consciousness and a sect that worshipped the existence of the stars, engulfing the entire world. The war mercilessly devoured their villages, and familiar relatives and friends fell one after another. In the end, only Baia and two other companions, a man and a woman, remained, fleeing their homeland wounded and fearful, seeking a glimmer of hope.

But the outside world has already descended into even greater madness.

The earth worshippers and the sky worshippers fought each other relentlessly, each regarding the other as a heretic who had betrayed their people and clouded their minds. At the same time, they both harbored great malice towards the three people from a small place who had no faith.

Survival has become extremely difficult.

Amidst the brutal adventures and struggles, the two remaining companions gradually drifted apart.

One man, witnessing the devastation of the earth, joined the worshippers of the earth, firmly believing that protecting the planet was the only salvation.

The other person was fascinated by the vastness and mystery of the starry sky and eventually became a devout follower of the Sky Worshippers.

Only Baia stubbornly adhered to the original path of white magic, purely pursuing the power of healing and protection.

Twenty years have passed in the blink of an eye. With his amazing talent, miraculous circumstances, and unwavering will, he has truly become the most powerful white mage of his time. His light can dispel plagues, heal wounds, and protect a pure land.

However, the protracted war between the two sects nearly depleted the world's population.

Their fanaticism and obsession led Baia to suspect that their spirits had been corrupted in some way.

However, he was powerless to delve deeper—his power stemmed from protection and purification, and he could not conduct a deep spiritual analysis unless the other party voluntarily opened their soul or he did not understand the target's personality enough.

His methods lack strong offensiveness, making it difficult to "open" those tightly closed hearts.

The final outcome was cruel.

The former partners, who had become important figures in the two factions, arrived at the sanctuary guarded by Baia almost one after the other.

They issued the same ultimatum: join us, or we'll slaughter all the white mages and civilians behind you who refuse to convert. Facing two old acquaintances whose faces were distorted by religion, and looking back at the trusting, fearful, and pleading gazes behind him, Baia remained silent for a long time.

He took out a well-preserved ordinary wooden sword from his old bag—the weapon they used during their militia training as teenagers, rough but carrying the weight of a simple and pure time. Over the years, he had carried it with him as he traveled far and wide, every time he healed, every time he helped, every time he sealed monsters away and let them be worn down by time, he carried this sword with him.

He gripped the wooden sword tightly.

At that very moment, an incredible resonance arose within him: an unwavering belief in protecting what was happening, anger at the tragedy before him, and a resolute will to break free from his shackles.

The intense light of the white magic was not used for healing, but rather poured into the ordinary wooden sword in an unprecedented way.

He moved.

The speed was beyond imagination; the caster was no longer a sluggish spellcaster, but transformed into a resolute streak of light.

The sword flashed.

It is not slaughter, but judgment, it is... cutting open the path!

With incredible power and precision, the wooden sword pierced the hearts of two former companions—before they could even react.

Their bodies froze, their fanatical expressions solidified, and then gradually turned into an incredulous emptiness.

Their souls were forcibly torn apart by this power containing ultimate protection and purification, and exposed to Baia's perception.

Baya saw it. He saw that at the core of the soul, which was wrapped in layers of faith, it was not a pure idea, but a distorted, foreign, and polluted mark like viscous silt.

This pollution is not directly controlled, but rather amplifies prejudice, nurtures fanaticism, and distorts different ideas into an endless hatred.

From the moment of its birth, religious belief seems to have become the best carrier and breeding ground for this kind of pollution.

Baia stood still, the light from the wooden sword in his hand gradually fading.

He became the first paladin, a faithless paladin who, in the name of protection, carried out judgment.

What he cut open was not just the body of his deceased friend, but also a despairing truth.

When people begin to devoutly believe in a physical object, they may no longer be their complete selves.

At that moment, Bya's far-sighted gaze followed the pollution and saw—three so-called 'Gods of Life' dwelling inside the planet, and behind the false starry sky, countless 'Star Gods' with distinct ray-like lines, like swords, cabinets, and ships.

The gods of life are snakes, insects, and fish, while those 'star gods'—

A war is taking place between them.

Just like the earth itself.

……

Nie Weiyang's consciousness slowly detached from this long story.

He returned to the hall and suddenly opened his eyes.

"—Triple cycle? And...starships?!"

Dude, something really weird must have happened on this planet!
(End of this chapter)