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

A dark silver wind ripped through the void, like the sigh of an ancient god in slumber, surging forth from the "Crack in the Realm of Words".

"This wind... is the prelude to the storm of words." Jingze folded the cloak of words that spread out like wings behind him, a cold glint in his eyes. "It won't wait for us to be ready."

Fufu reached out, her fingertips trembling slightly, as if some scent in the wind was trying to rob her of her words. Here, "name" was no longer a symbol of power, but a burden, a curse that would devour existence itself.

Noria held Fou's hand, feeling the warmth of her palm.

"Don't be afraid, we've come this far," she whispered, as if afraid the wind would hear.

Jingze turned around and faced the enormous crack that was churning with distorted light—the deepest part of the Word Realm, and it was this passage that led them to the "Seat of the Final Word".

A dark shadow flashed by.

The three of them drew their swords almost simultaneously.

“It’s a Word Eater.” Fufu murmured. Before she could finish speaking, dozens of monsters of various shapes and sizes emerged from the rift. They were composed of broken syllables and resembled a mixture of wolf, snake and spider shapes. Dazzling light veins flowed across their bodies, and they could tear apart the structure of language if you got close.

"Three-layer formation, don't engage head-on!" Jingze shouted, his Blade of Final Words flashing with lingering flames. The tip of the sword pointed at a Word-Eating Beast that pounced at him and instantly disintegrated.

Noria unfurled her language shield, runes swirling around her like flower petals, each inscribed with ancient runes. She whispered:
"Σερφε—a broken sound for shield".

The spell exploded, forming a semi-transparent field that protected Fouf in the center.

Fufu took a deep breath and took out the "Sentence Imprint Star Ring," a relic left behind by the Language Caster, inlaid with three segments of language essence core.

"Accept me, the fire of the final words...!" She used her own spiritual energy as a guide to awaken the inscription within the star ring.

Flames, like the heart of the sun igniting in the palm, intertwined with the resonance of three voices, transforming into a blazing talismanic light—

"Burn the remains of the words here."

A golden tongue of fire shot into the sky, engulfing the Word-Eating Beast in front of her. Fufu's face turned pale, but she did not retreat.

Her magic is adapting to the chaotic environment of this otherworldly realm.

But the cracks are still widening.

"We must cross this rift and reach the Throne of the Final Word before the storm forms," ​​Jingze's voice echoed through the battle. "Otherwise, all existence will be swallowed up into the Void Core of the Word Realm!"

"Understood!" Noria unfolded her Feathered Robe, and silver-blue magic wings appeared behind her. A spear of language condensed from her palm.

She rushed to the right wing: "I'll clear the way, Fufu, you go to the center, Jingze—provide support from the left wing!"

As if they had known each other all along, the three of them cut a path through the beast horde, heading straight for the light staircase in the center of the rift.

That is the guiding staircase to the Throne of Final Words. Only when all three arrive can the final layer of the Word Realm Lock be opened.

Along the way, every step felt like walking on the collapse of semantics, with the terrain constantly changing beneath one's feet, sometimes a vast forest of linguistic monuments, and sometimes a flowing stream of rhythm.

Fufu's heart pounded like a drum. She knew that this was not just the end of language, but the ultimate test of the meaning of the existence of "name".

Finally, when the three had almost exhausted their magic power and reunited on the last staircase of light, the Throne of the Final Words finally appeared.

It was a throne suspended in the air, composed of countless syllables, as if it were the embodiment of the language consciousness of the entire plane.

A young girl sat regally on the throne.

Or rather, she is merely—a “word”.

She opened her eyes, and the world was silent.

"You've arrived."

Her voice didn't come out, but everyone "heard" it.

It is a kind of "intuitive language" that transcends the eardrum and nerves, reaching directly to the bottom of consciousness.

Jingze gazed at her and murmured softly, "The origin of language...you are—the God of Words."

Fufu and Noria knelt down almost simultaneously, not out of submission, but because of an unbearable mental pressure. They saw the world behind her, a void before language was born, where everything could be named and also canceled.

"Why have you come?"

The question from the god of words was not an interrogation, but rather an awakening.

Jingze stepped forward and raised the blade of final farewell high above his head.

"To end the unspoken calamity, to safeguard the civilization of language."

The god of words smiled.

Her smile was like the final note in a word sequence.

"Very well. Now, let me ask you my final question."

The sky cracked.

The God of Words raised his hand, and a staff composed of phrases appeared from the void, each strike imbued with the power of the true name.

The battle began without warning.

She didn't use magic or chant spells, but instead summoned a reconstruction of reality through "questions"—

"If there exists something nameless, can you name it?"

This question transformed into thousands of "unspoken swords," sweeping across the entire staircase.

Jingze took the lead, using the blade of his final words to defend himself. Each clash eroded the foundation of his reputation.

"Ugh...!" He gritted his teeth and persevered.

Noria reacted swiftly, deploying her verbal shield: "Deploy a 'response structure' to build resistance through negation!"

She summoned the protective array of the linguistic realm, and several "negation nodes" shone between her and Fufu, barely resisting the erosion of the "unspoken sword".

Fufu then clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.

She recalled everything from the journey, the words and silences she shared with Eld, Shizuzawa, and Noria.

The fire in my heart was rekindled at that moment.

"I don't need to name them with language."

"Because I already knew of their existence."

At that moment, Fufu opened her eyes, and golden-red light patterns appeared in her pupils. A new language wheel unfolded behind her.

"Word God, your question... I refuse to answer."

boom!
Refusal itself is a response. It is not merely a verbal resistance, but a denial of the authority of the questioner.

The world of language began to collapse, but at the same time, an unprecedented power burst forth from Fufu's body.

—It is the resonance of unspoken power.

She wielded silence as her sword, ascended into the air, and pointed directly at the throne of the god of words.

The battle continues.

But this time, they no longer passively receive the questions from the God of Language, but respond to each question in their own way.

Q: "How do you define yourself?"

Answer: "I am Fufu."

The trial at the end of the language realm, like the final chapter where flames and light intertwine, is being written by the three of them together.

The storm did not subside; instead, it intensified. The sky above the Throne of Final Words seemed to crack open with countless scathing lines, like black pages of an abyss being torn apart, the fragmented texts swirling in the air, each strand a remnant of mythology. Fufu stood atop the staircase built of a thousand words, behind her Noria's slightly panting figure, and further behind, Jingze knelt on one knee, the Blade of Final Words held horizontally before him, deeply embedded in the earth of the Word Realm, yet he uttered not a word.

"He's coming."

Fufu's words were almost drowned out by the roar that followed. A figure slowly emerged in the void, but it was not a physical entity. Instead, it was a continuously breaking and reassembling linguistic construct—its form was as black as ink, its outline as speech, and its robes fluttered, yet every inch of it was pieced together from fragments and incomplete sentences.

A master of words.

“Fou…” Noria stepped forward, blood trickling from her lips, but she showed no sign of backing down. “Are you ready?”

Fufu gripped her "Wind Whisper Staff" tightly. The aura stone at the top of the staff was emitting a light blue ripple, flickering weakly but firmly in this space almost swallowed by language.

“I’m ready,” she replied softly, causing the voice that had descended from the sky to pause abruptly.

The god of words gazed upon her, but His voice was not that of one person; rather, it was a thousand tones resounding from all directions at the same moment:
"You are a person of words, you should not disobey the final word."

Fufu narrowed her eyes, tapped the ground with her staff, and a blue light was immediately etched into the steps by the wind-whispering incantation. She responded sharply, "You are the God of Remnant Words, you should not have sole control over the beginning of speech."

The moment the wind and words intertwined, the entire Seat of Final Words erupted in excitement.

Fufu charged forward first, her Wind Whisper Staff spinning out, countless wind verses converging in the air to form an arc, transforming into a silver-blue slash that hurtled straight towards the God of Words. That was the Wind Phrase – [Circling Slash: Return of Words]!
The God of Words slightly turned in mid-air, his cloak transforming into countless torn phrases, intercepting the sentence-based attack head-on. The instant the two spells collided, space itself cracked open like paper.

"Noria!"

"understand!"

Noria took a step forward, and a crimson incantation appeared beneath her feet—a unique spell mark characteristic of her as a Blood Pact Spellcaster. With a flick of her left hand, three blood-written spells flew from her arm, each transforming into a crimson blade, carrying an aura of deadly poison and binding sound as it tore through space, aiming straight for the Word God's back.

However, the God of Words did not turn around. With a mere wave of his hand, countless fragments of words flew up from the ground, like shields and mist, neutralizing Noria's attack.

"This guy is too strong!" Noria gritted her teeth. "We simply can't break through his verbal defenses!"

“No—we can!” Fou shouted. “Although He controls language, He is no longer a complete being! We just need to shatter His core subject!”

"The core of the subject? You mean—that one floating on His chest—"

"Yes! That's the one! Quick!"

Noria immediately realized what was happening, and a longsword wrapped in blood-red light instantly appeared in her hand. It was the forbidden weapon she had brought out from the Well of Curses—[The Blade of Forbidden Words: Silent Whisper].

Fufu suddenly soared upwards, her Wind Whisper Staff radiating unprecedented brilliance. A series of wind runes exploded behind her, creating a vortex-like halo. She chanted loudly:

"Where the wind ceases, words will echo—【The Wind's Final Melody: A Thousand Words Collapse】!"

Suddenly, the sky fell silent.

It was as if the entire world of lyrics fell silent for a moment in response to Fufu's chanting, before a devastating storm erupted. The figure of the God of Lyrics began to sway in the storm, His cloak, made of fragments of words, was torn to shreds, and the core of His subject at His chest began to flicker slightly, as if He had been severely injured.

"Noria! Now!"

"Don't order me!"

Noria roared, her charging figure transforming into a streak of crimson lightning, the Silent Blade slashing heavily towards the core of the Word God's subject!
In an instant, the God of Words suddenly opened his hands, as if tearing open the sky, releasing a tremendous echo of phrases—a divine chant that transcended social classes.

"Returning to silence, falling into the final chapter!"

In that instant, the entire space fell into an eerie silence.

The wind stopped, the blood-red light froze, and even Noria's movements were suspended in mid-air.

However, just when everything seemed to be gripped by the oppressive stillness of the "final chapter"—

"The God of Language's statement... is incomplete."

A calm yet firm voice broke the silence.

It is Jingze.

He slowly rose to his feet, and the Blade of Final Words in his hand shone with a completely different brilliance, no longer black and silver, but transparent almost like air itself. His voice seemed to emanate from the very earth's veins, whispering softly:
"You are neither the beginning nor the end. You are merely... an unfinished empty word."

He raised his sword and took a step forward.

Then comes step two.

third step.

The pressure of words collapsed before him like waves, yet none of them could touch his body.

"The unspoken sword," he murmured, "to sever your remaining fragments."

The final blade struck, as if severing the entire realm of lyrics from its broken chant. The God of Lyrics trembled violently, and visible cracks appeared at the core of its subject!

"Now—!" Fufu and Noria shouted almost simultaneously.

Two beams of light, one of wind and one of blood, shot out simultaneously from above and below, crashing heavily into the cracked core of the subject!
"—The End!"

boom! ! !
The entire throne of the final word is crumbling.

The god of words let out an indescribable wail, his form was torn apart between wind and blood, his language structure collapsed, his remaining words burned, and finally he slowly disappeared in the light.

Silence descends.

But it is not a deathly stillness, but a tranquility before rebirth.

The three knelt before the collapsed altar, breathing heavily. The words had ceased, and the Blade of Final Words remained embedded in the ground, emitting a faint hum.

"...Is it over?" Noria asked in a low voice.

"Not yet." Jingze looked up at the center of the Seat of Final Words, at the floating circular monument—the inscriptions originally carved on it in ancient language were slowly fading away.

Instead, a new set of sentences was introduced.

—If the sentence doesn't end, the lyrics must be rewritten.

Fou gripped her staff tightly and murmured, "We can't relax yet... A new storm of language will descend once more after this end."

Jingze nodded, her eyes serene: "Then let's continue on our journey. In this era of the end of an era."

The wind blew gently again.

The sky collapsed.

No longer was it a dome of light constructed from language, but rather rifts tearing the world apart, as if burning words had ripped open the universe itself. Starlight fell to earth like fiery words, like the tears of silent gods.

Fou held the still unconscious Noria atop the ruins of the Throne of Final Words. Behind her, fragments left after the collapse of the Divine Structure of Words still flickered faintly, revealing scattered traces of words, like fragments of lingering prayers at the end of sentences.

Jingze lay to one side, his body covered in wounds from the release of the "unspoken words," his face as pale as snow. The broken sword forged from "Final Words" stood silently on the stone platform in front of him, its blade no longer gleaming, like a relic that had completed its mission.

The wind began to swirl. It was no ordinary wind, but the wind of language—the primordial breath that constitutes the principles of the world. After the destruction of the divine structure of language, this wind finally lost its restraints and began to flow across the earth once more.

"...Did we win?" Fufu murmured softly, gazing at the slowly closing crack in the sky above her head.

No one answered her. Noria was still asleep, while Shizuzawa seemed to be unconscious.

Fufu slowly rose and placed Noria on the white feather stone beside the altar, then walked towards the broken sword. She reached out and grasped the hilt, and in that instant, the remaining "warmth" of the broken sword traveled through her fingertips, like the last beat of a heart.

She closed her eyes and breathed.

"Should I finish this sentence?"

Just as she was about to draw her sword, a distant whisper suddenly rang in her ears. The voice belonged neither to the God of Words nor to any of the gods, but rather... a will sealed away outside the starry sky.

"O one who has finished speaking... you have approached the gate of boundary words." (End of Chapter)