I, the Geo Archon Morax with 2.1 Billion Mora, Have Joined a Chat Group [277]

Pope Dustin the Sixty-First of the Divine Word Faith received a message unlike any divine word spoken by Sariel—and it happened at midday, on this very day.

He had just finished a light lunch and was tasting a small dessert.

At his advanced age in this lifetime, his body could no longer handle most foods. His digestive system could only manage soft, liquid fare.

Cheese, thankfully—his lifelong favorite—was still something he could take a few bites of.

After sipping the last drop of wine, Pope Dustin the Sixty-First gestured for his attendants to clear away the dishes.

Then, as was his daily ritual, he began to pray.

—A blessing and offering of reverence to Goddess Sariel, the one who created this world as it is now. And a private reckoning with the guilt and weight of the many sins he had committed in her name.

He had chosen to save humanity. That was the reason he still lived. And for that, he had to give everything he had.

Otherwise, how could he face the countless friends from the orphanage who had died long ago? How could he face the goddess who had sacrificed herself for humanity?

Dear Goddess Sariel, he prayed silently, thank you for your grace. The humans under your protection are still safe today.

Dustin offered this greeting to the image of the goddess he held in his heart.

Just like every day, he knew he wouldn’t receive a reply.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of that semi-delusional state—a state he was well aware wasn’t exactly normal.

But to be on one’s sixty-first lifetime and only be this mentally fractured? That alone felt like divine protection.

And then, in the midst of his wandering thoughts, a voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

{Greetings, Pope Dustin the Sixty-First of the Divine Word Faith.}

“Huh?” He froze in place.

—Telepathy?

{No. This is a Divine Word.}

—No, this voice was not that of Goddess Sariel. Her voice was never this calm, steady, male.

—And Lord Black Dragon, the Administrator, couldn't use Divine Word, could he?

{I am a god from another world. I recently made a wager with the evil god D, the one who created the skill system of this planet—the Underworld God of Entropy.}

—The evil god D?
—High-level Administrator D? I remember Lord Black Dragon mentioning this god once...

{Starting on the first day of the next solar month—New Year’s Day—this entire planet will be divided in two by the power of the skill system.}

{One half will belong to humans. The other to demons.}

—But aren’t demons still human? Genetically altered, yes. Smarter, more powerful physically, sure. But still...

{I don’t know what D’s reasoning is. You only need to understand one thing.}

—What is it?

—I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

{This planet has been turned into a game. I am one of the players. My opponent... is D, the god who created this system. That is why—}

This Divine Word far exceeded the usual fragmented phrases. The calm voice of the young god spilled into his mind like slow, inevitable rain. It made Pope Dustin smile bitterly.

And all the more, it made him feel the crushing weight of helplessness.

For someone like him—a mere mortal—no matter how hard he struggled, he was nothing but a toy in a divine game.

Worse still, even that toy's value was diminishing.

If NPCs in an RPG could at least live their own lives when not harassed by players, then in an RTS game, NPCs existed solely for war.

Even the bots that mined resources could be rigged to carry a welder into battle and blow up enemy bases.

In PvP strategy games, every NPC truly was just a number—cold, emotionless statistics of population and force.

{Tomorrow, at high noon, I will arrive with my companion just outside the capital of the Holy Areus Papal Nation.}

—Understood, O god. I will bring the leaders of the Holy Areus Papal Nation to greet you.

Even so, no matter how deep the despair, Pope Dustin did not relinquish the ember of hope in his heart.

Carefully and respectfully, he replied within.

—Ah, I still do not know your name.

{Hmm… you may call me Zhongli, the Dragon of Stone.}

...

The memories faded.

Standing outside the capital walls with the highest-ranking officials of the Holy Areus Papal Nation, Pope Dustin the Sixty-First pushed aside all thoughts and distractions.

He waited solemnly for the arrival of the god who had identified himself as Zhongli, the Dragon of Stone.

Tick-tock...

Tick-tock...

The sound of a clock echoed in his ears.

Even though this world hadn’t developed the technology to create mechanical timepieces, the ticking resounded in his mind with uncanny clarity.

Divine Word.

He understood it in that instant.

What had once only spoken cold phrases like Skill proficiency has reached a threshold, Skill leveling initiated, or New skill acquired, now carried the rhythmic ticking of a clock—audible to everyone present.

CLANG——!

The bell of high noon tolled—a sound not heard in his mind for nearly a thousand years—ringing once more in Dustin’s soul.

And then, a gentle, radiant glow descended from the sky—faintly golden and warm—enveloping every human being standing on that land.

Everything fell silent.
The buzzing of insects, the cries of birds—gone. Not a trace remained.

Only the ticking remained, tick-tock, tick-tock, echoing across the stillness.

{Greetings, people of the mortal world.}

With that composed voice of a young man, a figure slowly emerged on the road ahead.

He was a handsome youth wearing clothing unlike anything known in this world—relaxed in bearing but not ostentatious, his looks refined but not sharp. Like a polished gemstone, warm and quietly resplendent.

And at his side was a bizarre creature—its upper body that of a pure white human girl, and its lower body that of a spider.

The moment the young man appeared, every human present instinctively sensed it.

He was something higher.
More perfect.
A being fundamentally superior to themselves.

Just looking at him made them want to kneel in reverence.

Pope Dustin the Sixty-First was no exception.

But he was stubborn.

Though shaken by the divine aura, though he knew resistance was futile, he still refused to surrender entirely without speaking.

Even if he and his entire species were nothing but NPC playthings in the hands of gods, he would prove to them—prove to the gods—that toys had value too.

He forced himself to step forward.

Forced himself to stand tall, unlike the other high-ranking officials who dared not even meet the god’s gaze.

He looked Zhongli in the eye.

“Greetings, great Zhongli, Dragon of Stone.”

“I am Dustin the Sixty-First, Pope of the Divine Word Faith, from the Holy Areus Papal Nation.”

---

T/N: hehe i want daddy zhongli to dominate me, ill resist too makes it fun hehe

This is a fan translation of 我，21亿岩王帝君加入聊天群 by 大一统. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!