After work, start to speedrun the other world-Chapter 613 - 245: Sudden Change of Superman in Civilization

Simulated World.

"Clang——!" The sound of clashing blades echoed across the dueling arena, accompanied by dazzling sparks. A figure plummeted from the sky, crashing into the center of the arena like a meteor, stirring up clouds of dust and debris.

The Goddess of Salvation covered her nose and mouth, shakily getting to her feet. Her expression froze suddenly as she realized that, at some point, a sharp sword was pressed against her neck. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"Your progress is very fast." A melodious female voice came from within the haze of dust. An invisible wave swept through, revealing the sword-wielder’s form—a woman with flowing silver hair. Her stern demeanor was like a perfectly honed blade, so sharp that mere contact seemed capable of wounding, exuding an air of palpable danger.

"But you still lost." The Goddess of Salvation pressed her lips together, a delicate, dejected look surfacing on her face. The silver-haired woman, seeing this, withdrew her blade and offered a gentle smile.

"If you were able to defeat me in swordsmanship, wouldn’t that make me unworthy of being the Goddess of the Sword?"

This duel did not involve the use of divine powers—it was purely a contest of swordsmanship. Naturally, the Goddess of Salvation stood no chance.

After all, they had only crossed swords for a few days.

"Yes, I was being greedy." The Goddess of Salvation nodded lightly, admitting to herself that she had perhaps been rushing things, her desire to grow stronger bordering on unrealistic.

Yet every time she thought of her teacher’s rapid progress, she couldn’t help feeling... despair. Her own growth was so slow—how could she ever catch up? Especially since her teacher was not stagnant, but constantly advancing.

How could she ever hope to sever the eternal cycle of reincarnation?

"There comes a point when progress halts, no matter who you are." The Goddess of the Sword smiled faintly, as if seeing through the Goddess of Salvation’s innermost concerns.

With a serene smile, she continued:

"Your teacher has already reached the pinnacle of the world. To push further is no easy feat. You don’t need to worry about never being able to catch up."

The Goddess of Salvation forced a smile. If there truly was a ceiling to progress, she wondered if she too could one day reach the peak. But such possibilities remained uncertain.

Still, she chose not to voice her doubts aloud.

"I wonder if my teacher has entered the dreamscape," she muttered, changing the subject with a conflicted expression. "Or perhaps he’s off meeting another lover."

The Goddess of the Sword chuckled lightly and said, "That man is likely in Hell, spending time with the Witch of Death."

The Goddess of Salvation tilted her head in confusion.

But the Goddess of the Sword offered no further explanation. Instead, she sighed, raised her gleaming sword, and pointed it at the Goddess of Salvation’s slender neck.

"Come, let us continue our battle. If that man wants to meet you, he will come on his own."

"Understood." The Goddess of Salvation steadied her breathing, raising her hand toward the Holy Sword embedded in the ground not far away. The sword quivered, then flew into her grasp. Just as she assumed her battle pose, she caught sight, through the sword’s reflection, of her teacher’s silhouette seated in the stands behind her, accompanied by a red-haired woman.

"What’s wrong?" The Goddess of the Sword noticed something was amiss. But the Goddess of Salvation only shook her head in response and immediately launched her attack.

Their blades collided, pulling arcs of radiant light between them, as if two crescent moons were clashing. The sparks that erupted seemed to transform into scattered stars across the night sky.

As the Goddess of the Sword parried the incoming strikes, she stole a glance at the dueling arena. She was well aware of the relationship between the Goddess of Salvation and the King of Ash, but she bore no hostility toward the young goddess. If anything, a sense of... anticipation stirred within her.

If the King of Ash was willing to take the Goddess of Salvation as a disciple, that in itself was testament to the latter’s latent potential.

Meanwhile.

Outside the dueling arena.

"Aren’t you going to see her?" Mist tilted her head, glancing at her companion Ahtal. "That child seems very eager to meet you."

"Interrupting a student’s studies is hardly appropriate." Xi Mu shook his head. He and Mist had only just entered the dreamscape and wished to enjoy some time alone together—despite the fact that, in reality, they lay side by side on the same bed.

But that was merely physical. Their spirits deserved closeness as well.

Mist nodded gently, then took Ahtal’s hand in her own, strolling through Lionheart Castle with him.

Compared to the last dream simulation, the current scenario seemed relatively stable. Instead of obliterating the entire world as before, this time it maintained a state of tenuous equilibrium.

However, the inhabitants of the simulated world appeared to have taken a peculiar turn. Most had abandoned their original forms, transforming into undead beings, elemental entities, monsters, alchemical puppets, and other such life forms.

This gave the world an increasingly surreal and bizarre atmosphere.

Some time later.

In the midst of a plaza where white doves fluttered about.

An alchemical puppet stood at the edge of a fountain. A white dove perched atop his metallic head, pecking at breadcrumbs, as he passionately addressed the crowd:

"Humanity will surely overcome Ragnarok!" He raised both arms high. "Becoming a demon requires Talent, but alchemy only demands the capacity to think. Anyone can learn alchemy! If we unite as one and push alchemy to its limits—"

He paused dramatically.

"We will undoubtedly defeat Ragnarok!"

"But aren’t you an alchemical puppet?" A voice of doubt interrupted him, freezing the puppet mid-gesture. He turned toward the source of the voice to find a black-haired man regarding him with a puzzled expression.

As expected, it was likely someone who had just entered the dreamscape.

"Does being an alchemical puppet mean I am not human?" The puppet shook his head, explaining, "Human identity stems from culture and self-awareness. The body is merely a vessel for carrying culture and consciousness. It is utterly insignificant!"