William brought up the oath panel again and noticed a "Change" option in the lower right corner.
He quickly clicked it—but instead of changing the vow, a message popped up:
"The brave man swears."
William exited the interface with a frustrated look. It was understandable that the work released by a new god might be imperfect, but he still felt tricked—once again, the Lord of Pleasure's twisted sense of humor was at play.
Any normal person would have let their guard down after clicking on a game labeled "relaxing and stress-relieving." Add to that the feeling of triumph from casually slaying small skeletons along the way, and it was easy to unconsciously fill in arrogant words when asked to make an oath.
It was… quite an interesting feeling.
William's lips curled into a small smile. Isn't the purpose of a hero to face all sorts of unexpected challenges? If everything went smoothly, how could one live up to the great creed of the God of Heroes, a god who constantly strives forward? A true hero refuses to succumb to the allure of comfort and instead pushes ahead.
A surge of heat ran through William's body, the pulse of his heart filling him with determination. He stood again, bent to pick up his sword and shield, and strode toward the sacrificial site.
In the divine realm, Lin Xuan was continuously crafting the next level of Dark Souls.
According to normal procedure, after players defeated Gundyr and entered Firelink Shrine, they would head to The High Walls of Lothric. This wasn't like the current demo, where all that was needed was a path to Gundyr; Lin Xuan was planning an entire metropolis, complete with a vast variety of monsters and weapons.
Now that he had ascended to godhood, he could use his divine power to accomplish most of this work. And while Dark Souls was steadily increasing his faith power, each small increment fueled his growth as a new god.
Lin Xuan brought up the control panel.
Lord of Pleasure: Lin Xuan
[Divine Power: 1 (Demigod)]
[Power of Faith: 586]
[Divine Kingdom Range: 50]
"Wow… so many more have appeared again," he muttered. Only half a day had passed since the last transformation, yet nearly 600 faith points had poured in. At 5 Faith Points per session, that meant Dark Souls had been experienced at least a hundred times. A remarkable start for a new god.
He checked the new God Ranking:
[New God Ranking This Month]
Dream Weaver – 7231 Faith Gains
Child of the Hearth – 6587 Faith
Princess Crescent Moon – 5847 Faith
…
Lord of Joy – 654 Faith
Seeing that he was now approaching the top 100, Lin Xuan was elated. All demigods within the top 100 would receive resources for promotion on the forum, dramatically increasing their exposure. Clearly, Dark Souls was striking a chord with the players.
Feeling full of divine power, Lin Xuan's level-design abilities sparked into life. In the vast, empty divine kingdom, only his own voice echoed:
"They'll definitely let their guard down in this blind spot… let's put a few more wolves there."
Back in the game, William's heart raced as Gundyr's halberd hurtled past, mere centimeters from striking him. Sweat slid into his eyes, stinging painfully, yet he had no time to wipe it away. Gundyr's health was almost gone—just a sliver of red clung precariously to the edge. One strike could finish him.
His body trembled—not from fear, but from the pure exhilaration of being on the razor's edge. The last time he had felt this tension was when he proposed to his wife, every nerve straining as he watched her reaction, afraid of rejection. Now he observed Gundyr with the same intensity, afraid that one misstep would end him.
In just one hour, he had died countless times. Each failure forced him to reconsider what "simple and straightforward" truly meant. If he could return to the moment before making his vow, he would slap himself across the face—better to feel pain than shame.
With elemental potions emptied, William was in a do-or-die situation. His long breath steadied him. No divine magic, no external aid—just sword and shield against a towering adversary. His inner warrior ignited.
He circled Gundyr like a dancer, a lesson from repeated deaths etched into every movement. "Don't be greedy—wait for it to strike first."
Gundyr's wide, sweeping attacks seemed impossible to dodge, yet each motion carried a pattern. William held his breath, eyes sharp as an eagle's. When Gundyr paused and drew his right hand back, William rolled forward instinctively.
Sure enough—the fierce wind from above passed harmlessly.
Just as expected.
Seizing the moment, William swung his longsword. Gundyr's massive body swayed, then crashed to the ground with a deafening thud, motionless.
William dropped his weapon and sat, panting, next to the fallen giant.
"By my God… your priest has not disgraced you," he said, smiling widely despite the burn in his lungs. With nothing but shield and sword, he had defeated an enemy many times stronger. Even the God of Heroes himself would applaud.
Exhausted but alert, William's mind sharpened. His affinity with the God of Heroes had grown during the battle. A month of chanting scriptures by believers could not rival this thrilling demonstration of doctrine.
He stood, stepping over Gundyr's corpse to put away his sword, when a faint song drifted from afar.
"Huh? Wasn't Gundyr dead? Why is the music playing again?"
He turned—and froze. The scene before him left him utterly speechless.