Chapter 209: Program Crash: The System's Warning

The green light at the tip of Shen Yan’s finger was still flickering. The line of defense code was only two characters away from completion. His eyes were fixed on the translucent interface floating in the void, and he muttered the function names as if to encourage himself.

But just as he was about to press Enter, a “buzz” echoed in his mind, as if a string had snapped.

The Terminal Interface trembled violently, the black background and green text suddenly turning into a glaring red. A line of large characters exploded right in the center of his vision: 【Core Thread Overload, Memory Leak! The System will force shutdown in ten seconds!】

The Countdown began.

Beep.

His heart tightened. He quickly called up the Cache area, trying to forcibly save the current Program, only to find that the several spell templates he had been using earlier were all stuck in a loading state. The Code blocks were in complete disarray, as if someone had taken scissors and shredded them.

Beep.

He tried Compiling again, but halfway through entering the Command, the entire Interface crashed. When he reopened it, only a line of blood-red text remained flashing: 【Error 404: Heavenly Dao Protocol Refuses Response】.

It’s over.

Shen Yan’s mind went blank, his fingers frozen mid-air. He could feel the Source Code Spiritual Root inside his body burning, as if it had reached its limit. His Mental Power had been completely drained, and he could barely stand.

At that moment, the black-robed figure beside the demon general, who had remained motionless until now, raised a hand.

That person formed hand seals, and a dark purple Energy sphere rose from their palms. It didn’t emit light; instead, it absorbed all the surrounding light, like a black hole. The air emitted a sharp tearing sound, and the ground beneath it began to crack, spreading all the way to the feet of the five.

The Talisman Paper Yu Xiaotang had drawn earlier instantly charred. The needle-thread Barrier Pei Yue had set up shattered with a “crack.” Luo Li’s Demonic Fire shrank to the size of a bean, and even Ye Zhao’s Sword Qi trembled.

This move was wrong—it wasn’t ordinary magic.

Shen Yan gritted his teeth, wanting to re-Initiate the System, even if only for a second. He pinched his thigh hard, the pain making his vision go white, but there was nothing in his mind, not even a Cursor.

For the first time, he felt how terrifying life without a Terminal could be.

Beep.

The Countdown reached zero.

The black-robed mage released their hand, and the dark purple Energy sphere flew out. It wasn’t fast, but wherever it passed, Spiritual Energy was annihilated, space collapsed, and even sound was swallowed.

Shen Yan stood where he was, unable to move.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to dodge; it was that he could do nothing now. His cheat had crashed, his Code wouldn’t run, his mind was a blank slate.

He could only watch as that sphere of death rushed toward them, about to smash into the center of their formation.

Then, a flash of silver light.

Ye Zhao turned and kicked him in the chest.

Shen Yan was sent tumbling backward, hitting the ground before he could even react. When he looked up, he only saw her back.

She stood at the very front, her long hair swept up by the shockwave like a banner. Her Lifebound Sword was fully unsheathed, its blade gleaming with a cold light. Sword Qi condensed into an arc-shaped light wall, standing before everyone.

“Close your eyes,” she said softly.

The next second, the magic sphere collided with the sword wall.

Boom—!

The shockwave exploded, blasting a deep crater into the ground. Debris flew, and dust shot into the sky. Shen Yan’s ears rang from the impact, his vision filled with white spots.

But he still saw it clearly.

Ye Zhao stood motionless, the tip of her sword planted on the ground, her entire body as if nailed in place. Yet a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, dripping down her chin and splattering into small crimson dots on the earth.

The light barrier had shattered, but she had endured the final blow with her sword-forged bones.

Wind swept dust past her, a tear in her robe fluttering. Blood slid down the blade of her sword, dripping steadily onto the scorched soil.

Shen Yan lay sprawled on the ground, his throat parched. He wanted to call her name, but when he opened his mouth, only a hoarse rasp emerged.

Crawling forward on hands and knees, his nails digging into the dirt, he finally drew near behind her.

“Why… why did you push me away?” he gasped.

Ye Zhao didn’t turn around, her gaze fixed on the black-robed mage in the distance. The man was slowly raising his hand, preparing to strike again.

“You can’t write Code anymore,” she said. “Now it’s my turn.”

Shen Yan gave a bitter laugh. “I’m fucking useless.”

“You’re not.” Ye Zhao’s voice was soft, yet each word struck like a nail. “You’re the only one who dared to risk your life to alter the Heavenly Dao Rules. I’m just buying you a few more seconds.”

Shen Yan’s nose stung.

He remembered the last time in the abandoned temple, when she had shielded him just like this. Back then, he had grinned and said, “Sis, you’re so cool,” only to have his hair blasted off by a Fireball Spell the next second.

This time was different.

He wasn’t the Programmer hiding behind her anymore; he was the one who should be protecting her.

But he couldn’t even run a Program now.

“Let me try,” he said, pushing himself up from the ground, his legs still trembling.

Ye Zhao glanced back at him, her eyes sharp. “Take one more step forward, and I’ll kick you again.”

“I’m not trying to throw my life away,” Shen Yan wiped his face. “I want to tell you—that guy’s second spell will have a zero-point-eight-second Latency. Because he has to rebuild the energy field, like restarting a Server.”

Ye Zhao narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?”

“I saw his hand seals change just now,” Shen Yan coughed twice. “The first was counterclockwise convergence; the second must be clockwise release. There’s a Buffer in between. If you can interrupt him within that zero-point-eight seconds, his magic will backfire.”

Ye Zhao fell silent for two seconds, then nodded. “Noted.”

She turned back, gripping the hilt of her sword, her breathing gradually steadying.

Over there, the black-robed mage brought his hands together once more, a dark purple energy sphere slowly coalescing.

Shen Yan stood behind her, his fists clenched so tightly they turned white. He could do nothing but watch her face that level of attack alone.

He suddenly understood what helplessness meant.

Before, he had always believed he could solve everything with Code. Fireball Spell, Sword Control Script, Decompilation, cross-Interface calls… He thought that as long as the Logic held, he could win.

But now, the System had crashed, and he couldn’t even cast a shield.

And she, without a word, drew her sword and charged.

The wind stilled.

The black-robed mage’s hands reached their highest point.

The energy sphere took shape, larger than before, devouring even more light.

Ye Zhao moved.

She didn’t charge forward. Instead, she sidestepped, her sword tip tracing an arc on the ground, Sword Qi gathering and ready.

The moment the energy sphere left the mage’s hands, she lunged forward, her sword light flashing like lightning, aimed straight for the mage’s face.

The mage indeed faltered for an instant, his hand seals shifting slightly.

Now!

Ye Zhao spun, her sword sweeping horizontally, striking the mage’s wrist as he formed the seals.

A crisp crack echoed.

The sound of breaking bone was unmistakable.

The black-robed mage screamed, the energy sphere spiraling out of control and hurtling back toward his own face.

Boom!

Violet light exploded, and the man was sent flying backward, crashing into a pile of ruins, motionless.

Ye Zhao sheathed her sword, kneeling on one knee, breathing heavily.

Shen Yan rushed forward to support her, noticing her entire right arm trembling, nearly unable to hold the sword.

“Are you insane!” he yelled. “What if your calculations were wrong?”

“Didn’t you say there were zero point eight seconds?” She looked up at him, blood at the corner of her mouth, yet she smiled. “I trusted you.”

Shen Yan froze.

He looked into her eyes and suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

He had been trusted before, but no one had ever dared to entrust their life to him, the “human bug collector.”

Especially at a time like this, when he couldn’t even run code.

“Don’t do this again,” he said softly. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Then fix the program sooner next time,” she leaned against him to stand up, her voice softening. “Otherwise, I’ll kick even harder.”

Shen Yan supported her as they stood in the center of the ruins, with dust still lingering behind them.

In the distance, demon generals were still forming ranks, and new enemies were approaching.

Shen Yan looked down at his phone—the screen was black, unresponsive even when he pressed the power button.

His mind remained empty, with no terminal, no notification tone, nothing.

But he was no longer panicked.

He touched the backup phone in his pocket and glanced at the woman standing beside him.

Code may crash, the system may fail, but he still had people.

He whispered, “I will definitely fix the program.”

Ye Zhao said nothing, only placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, her gaze fixed on the distance.

The demon general raised a giant axe, and the earth trembled.

Shen Yan raised his hand, the tip of his finger glowing faintly.

Though weak, that trace of green light had finally returned.

(End of Chapter)