Woke Up to Find the Game I Made Came True

The effect of the Rage Horn was to disperse creatures within a five-hundred-meter radius and stun those within fifty meters. Neither effect had any impact on the draconic undead here, but it allowed Ye Bai to trigger combat judgments—which was the real point.

After using the Rage Horn once, the effect of the Perfect Mask also faded. In the eyes of the undead, Ye Bai, now sprinting away at full speed, was no longer one of them. But by then, the undead had no time to spare for her. They were all drawn toward the altar under the influence of the skeletal dragon and the lich.

With the loss of the Codex’s empowerment, the lich’s Bone Domain, which had previously covered the entire altar island, also dissipated.

Ye Bai fled without looking back. Her strategy was to grab the rewards and run—staying behind would be suicide. The battle unfolding there was far beyond her ability to intervene. The skeletal dragon had already reached Level 100, putting it in a completely different league from the dragonkin lich. Even the slightest brush with its attacks would instantly erase her health bar.

Meanwhile, faced with the swarming draconic undead, Ye Bai mimicked the donkey’s earlier maneuver. Using the enhanced jumping power from Light Feather, she leaped onto their heads, sprinting across their skulls and shoulders.

At the center of the altar, the skeletal dragon—an ancient behemoth that should have been utterly indifferent to such a weak display of ‘draconic might’—paused when it heard the sound of Ye Bai’s Rage Horn. The soulfire in its eyes flickered momentarily, as if in recognition, before it turned its attention back to the dragonkin lich, who had just been engulfed in dragonfire.

As the terrifying flames dissipated, the demigod-tier lich emerged, battered and clutching the pitch-black Codex, its body rippling with residual spell fluctuations.

Desperately, it tried to reestablish its connection with the Codex, attempting to regain control over the skeletal dragon.

But when it looked down, it saw a paper-cut figure stubbornly embedded in the pages like a squatter. No matter which page it flipped to, the same image appeared—though with subtly shifting poses, turning the Codex into a makeshift flipbook animation for the lich.

Looking up again at the skeletal dragon, now fixated on it as its target, the lich snarled in Draconic, its voice laced with fury:

“Damn you… Antito Lusvinie…” It called the dragon by its true name, trying to ‘wake’ it. “Look closely! I am your master!”

“Hah…”

Hearing its Draconic true name, the enraged skeletal dragon actually hesitated. The soulfire in its eyes wavered as it studied the lich, as if weighing its words.

Seeing this, the lich stopped retreating and adopted a coaxing, soothing tone. “Antito, I was the one who brought you back. You should obey me… Together, we will rebuild the Sky City, halt the undead tide, and impose the order of death upon this world!”

The skeletal dragon stilled again, especially at the mention of the Sky City—its soulfire flared noticeably.

But then, from afar, another strange horn blast echoed, carrying the faintest trace of draconic might.

The skeletal dragon tilted its head slightly, sensing something. In the distance, a tiny figure was sprinting across the heads of undead while blowing into a horn.

Ye Bai was fleeing, but her path was an outward arc—she had blown the Rage Horn on the left earlier, and now she was circling around to the right, taking a slightly longer route.

—Pushing the limits of safety to squeeze out one last wave of EXP wasn’t greed. It was mastery!

The pitiful shred of draconic might from some distant, diluted bloodline was laughable before an ancient dragon—like a chick squawking at a phoenix.

Yet, the unmistakable scent of the living, so starkly different from the undead, ignited something in the skeletal dragon. Twin pillars of soulfire erupted from its eyes with a *boom*.

“ROAR—!!!”

It unleashed a roar laden with boundless grief and fury, spewing forth a torrent of dragonfire.

The once-corrosive emerald flames now shifted into an eerie, unsettling pale white.

In the next moment, the skeletal dragon rose fully from the altar. Its massive wings beat once, twice—unleashing a hurricane laced with spectral fire that swept through the surrounding draconic undead.

“No, no… Soulflame Breath… Antito, have you lost your mind?! You’ve only just been resurrected!”

At the sight of the pale flames, the lich’s voice turned shrill with terror. It clutched the Codex like a lifeline, pleading with the paper-cut figure inside: “Please! Get out of my Codex! Just leave—!!”

But the only response was the paper-cut figure reclining leisurely, utterly unbothered.

**BOOM!**

The next instant, the pale Soulflame Breath swallowed the lich whole.

The lich tried to flee—but escape was impossible.

Undead magic had teleportation spells, but without the Codex’s suppression, the demigod lich was still subject to the skeletal dragon’s divine-tier pressure. Most of its spells were either unusable or severely weakened.

Only its demigod status allowed it to retain independent thought under the dragon’s gaze. The lesser draconic undead mindlessly obeyed the dragon’s will, marching to their deaths without hesitation.

“Ahh—”

The dragon’s breath was too vast—escape was futile.

After the flames receded, the lich’s withered body was reduced to bare bones. Its arcane robes had disintegrated, leaving only the whistle around its neck and the Codex clutched to its chest.

**CRUNCH!**

The dragon’s claw came down, grinding the lich’s remains to dust.

Liches were, in theory, immortal—so long as their phylactery remained intact, they could always reconstruct a new body in time.

However, that was under normal circumstances when facing ordinary damage. Certain types of soul-related injuries could bypass the physical form of a lich and directly ignite the soul hidden within its phylactery. For instance, the lich that had just suffered such an attack was utterly annihilated—both body and spirit—leaving behind nothing but ashes, which were then scattered by the dragon’s sweeping claw.

Compared to the lich, which at least left behind skeletal remains, the surrounding dragonkin undead fared even worse. Under the pale-white soul breath, they were erased completely, not even ashes remaining—vanished without a trace.

At the same time, Ye Bai received a massive influx of experience. The experience pool skyrocketed to an eight-digit number in an instant.

The dragonkin lich had been slain!

Ye Bai didn’t have time to scrutinize the exact amount of experience in the pool, but even a rough estimate made it clear: assisting in the kill of a level 80 demigod as a mere level 25 character, even with the smallest contribution, yielded an absurdly high reward.

And the number kept rising. Thanks to the AoE effect of Ragehorn, countless dragonkin undead between levels 40 and 60 were being wiped out, with a portion of their experience also credited to Ye Bai.

Meanwhile, the entire dungeon began to tremble violently. The skeletal dragon seemed to have descended into madness. Ye Bai glanced back and saw the ancient dragon’s staggering health bar plummeting at a visible rate.

For a moment, Ye Bai was stunned—then realization dawned.

Perhaps the donkey’s earlier bite had devoured the original soul that was meant to transform the dragon into an undead creature. Later, the lich had forcibly replenished it by absorbing the soul flames of countless dragonkin undead, but these were mere substitutes. Now that the Codex had gone out of control and the lich was dead, the power sustaining the dragon’s undead state was dissipating.

In other words, the transformation ritual had never been fully completed. The skeletal dragon was only half-converted into an undead, and now it was reverting to its original form.

**"BOOM—"**

Having instantly annihilated the dragonkin lich, the skeletal dragon didn’t stop. Instead, it used its authority as a high-ranking undead to command the dragonkin to throw themselves at it one after another, all while continuing its frenzied assault on them—and the entire island. The ground beneath shook violently; the stone dome above trembled as well.

The skeletal dragon loathed all undead creatures that had disturbed its eternal slumber…

That thought flashed through Ye Bai’s mind as she witnessed the scene.

But in that split second of distraction, a massive stone pillar crashed down from above, striking her squarely on the back.

**‘-980’**

"Damn it!" Ye Bai couldn’t help but curse, immediately leveling up and restoring her health to full.

At level 25, she only had 850 HP. It was the Blood Blessing of the Crocodile King’s Bracer that had saved her—automatically restoring her health to 30% when it dropped below 5%, allowing her to barely survive the environmental damage.

Feeling the entire underground cavern quaking, Ye Bai realized the place was on the verge of collapse. She didn’t dare linger any longer and immediately fled the island, rushing onto the bridge she had come from.

This time, she focused solely on escaping, abandoning any other plans.

The donkey had long since disappeared, and the Paper Man was presumably still inside the Codex. But since it was bound to Ye Bai through the curse, it would instantly teleport to her the moment she touched any magic-inscribed item, so there was no need to worry.

As for the loot here? Of course, Ye Bai wasn’t indifferent—but she had already gained enough experience to likely reach level 40 in one go. At this point, she couldn’t ask for more.

In *Infinite Worlds*, destructible environments meant real damage. Surviving a demigod lich’s attacks only to die from collapsing rubble would be the most humiliating way to go.

**"CRASH!"**

Before she could even cross halfway, another stone pillar broke loose, smashing into the bridge and splitting it in two.

Without hesitation, Ye Bai sprinted at full speed, then leaped with all her might—relying on the Featherstep enchantment’s agility boost to clear the ten-meter gap between the broken sections.

**"SPLASH!"**

Turns out, wishful thinking wasn’t enough. Ye Bai executed a perfect zero-point dive, sending up a spectacular spray of water as she plummeted straight into the eerie river below, its surface shimmering with ghostly flames.

**"Splash…"**

The water wasn’t deep, and Ye Bai quickly surfaced.

**‘-30’**, **‘-30’**, **‘-30’**…

A **[Soul Corrosion]** debuff appeared on her status bar, draining her health by 30 points per second.

**"Splish-splash—"** Ye Bai immediately started swimming furiously toward the shore. With no undead creatures dragging her down, her mediocre swimming skills were just enough to keep her afloat.

Whenever her health dropped dangerously low, she’d level up again, instantly refilling her HP.

Then, while checking her status panel, Ye Bai noticed something unusual: despite the health drain, her max HP and resistances were actually *increasing* by 1 point per second under the **[Soul Corrosion]** effect.

"Huh?"

Her eyes lit up. Glancing at the river’s length and flow, she saw the shore wasn’t far—and the current was in her favor.

After a moment’s thought, she abandoned the idea of climbing back onto the bridge. Instead, she pulled out the **[Crocodile King’s Essence]** from her inventory—originally saved for potion-making—and chugged it down in one go, instantly boosting her max HP by 400.

**"Splish-splash…"**

She swam on, leveling up repeatedly to restore her health whenever it dipped too low.

Meanwhile, the skeletal dragon continued its rampage, and the experience pouring into Ye Bai’s pool barely seemed to diminish despite her constant level-ups.

**"CRASH!"**

Finally, as a deafening roar echoed from behind, Ye Bai reached the riverbank.

By now, she had reached level 35. Thanks to the **[Crocodile King’s Essence]**, her max HP—which should have been 1,800—had instead climbed to **2,639** due to the river’s strange effects. This put her far beyond the average mage’s survivability—even most tank warriors at her level would envy such numbers.

Somehow, swimming through that haunted river had turned her into an absolute **health juggernaut**.

**"Ooooooh…"**

A mournful dragon’s cry resonated through the cavern.

Behind her, boulders rained down on the island like a meteor shower. Ye Bai took one last glance back, but the dragonkin undead on the altar island were no longer visible—whether because they were too small or because the skeletal dragon had wiped them all out, she couldn’t tell.

Only the lone dragon could be seen sitting atop the altar, gazing at the sliver of ashen sky visible through the narrow fissure above.

It had chosen to bury itself along with the entire dungeon, alongside the undead forcibly bound to the world of the living, ready to embrace true death at last.

Even as Ye Bai swiftly turned and fled through the narrow passage, sprinting down the tunnel, that haunting image remained seared into her mind, impossible to shake.

……

Deep within the collapsing dungeon, the last gap in the ground was squeezed shut by the shifting earth, vanishing without a trace.

A nimble gray donkey leaped and darted across the trembling terrain, escaping upward.

On the altar, the ancient dragon Antito Lusvine—half-buried beneath crushing boulders—saw the final flicker of soulfire in its eyes gutter out.

With one last glance toward the Sky City, a home it would never return to, it closed its eyes. Its body gradually fused with the surrounding stone, sinking into eternal slumber.

At that very moment, Ye Bai finally emerged from the dungeon, bursting onto the surface. The world opened wide before her—it was already daytime, the second day’s light greeting her.

And then, the system notification chimed once more:

[You have participated in the historical event ‘Twilight of the Sky City.’ You have gained 100 History EXP. You have gained 1,000,000 EXP.]