"You're about to leave, aren't you?" Galadriel’s words weren’t a question, just a calm statement. "Before you go, I want to give you a farewell gift." She raised her hand and slipped off the beautiful and mysterious Ring of Water, handing it to Teacher Yang. Her eyes lingered on him, deep and unwavering: "Take it with you. I think it’ll help you more than it ever helped me."
Teacher Yang was silent, not reaching for the ring. He saw much more than just a piece of jewelry. After a moment, he asked in a low voice, "You've made up your mind?"
"Yes, I’ve decided—to give up immortality and fight for godhood. Win or lose, I have to try. Even if I die in the end, I’ll die with no regrets." Galadriel’s tone was calm and resolute as she pressed the ring into Teacher Yang’s palm. "From now on, I’m no longer immortal. I’m just a seeker on the path to godhood. I hope one day we’ll meet again above the heavens, and then, you can return this ring to me."
Teacher Yang studied the Holy Ring, now even more radiant than before, and finally nodded seriously: "Alright, I’ll keep it safe for you. I hope you’ll come get it yourself someday."
"I will."
From this day on, the Elven Queen would no longer be eternal.
Meanwhile, atop the White City’s wizard tower, the White Robe Wizard watched this moonlit meeting through his crystal ball, his heart nearly shattered. He pursed his lips, looking utterly miserable—just like when Galadriel got married. That political wedding had made him sad but not hopeless, and he’d even held onto a bit of hope. But now, he felt her heart was truly out of reach, and even hope was gone.
"So this is where you are." Just as Gandalf was about to cry but couldn’t, a familiar voice called out. Gandalf’s old face twitched as he quickly composed himself and spun around. It was none other than Jill Young, sneaking in like a rooftop bandit.
Jill Young landed on the giant windowsill of the wizard tower and waved at him: "Yaho! Friend over here, how’s it going?"
Gandalf was now allergic to anyone surnamed Yang, and immediately snapped, "I thought you were some burglar, but it’s you! Spill it—what do you want?"
"Whoa, did you eat gunpowder for breakfast? Why so fired up!" Queen Jill didn’t know what set him off, but she just grinned. "So, old man, about that ring of yours..."
"The ring?!" Just hearing about it made Gandalf’s heart clench. His face went from sad to downright tragic. "Don’t mention the ring again..."
"Aw, come on, it’s not the end of the world. No need to look like you’re about to cry!" Jill hopped over and patted Gandalf’s shoulder. "Look, I’m not the irresponsible type. I’ve tried all sorts of ways these past couple days, but honestly, I haven’t found a great solution yet. So I just came to let you know—hang in there a bit longer, I promise..."
"Forget it!" Gandalf wiped his old face, eyes flashing with resolve, ready to turn the page on this chapter of his life. "What’s the point of keeping this thing?!" He yanked off the ring and shoved it into Jill’s hand, gritting his teeth with meaning. "If it doesn’t want to stay, why should I force it? Take it!"
"Huh?!" Queen Jill was shocked. "Seriously, old man, what’s gotten into you? Weren’t you chasing me for answers just a couple days ago? Why are you suddenly handing out gear?"
Gandalf, clearly fed up, turned and strode out of the wizard tower: "Take it or leave it, I’m outta here!"
"Hey, think it over!" Jill really wanted the Ring of Fire, but she was still honest enough to shout after the old wizard: "Don’t go making rash decisions! If you ever want it back, you won’t find me, and then you’ll have nowhere to cry!"
"Me, cry?!" Gandalf, back turned, instantly reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He wiped his face lightning-fast and, still facing away, shouted furiously, "You could toss it in the sewer for all I care! I never want to see it again—just take it and disappear!"
Gandalf was gone in a flash, leaving Jill a little dazed by his antics. "What’s gotten into this Magneto-lookalike old man? He’s acting so weird!" But she quickly shrugged it off, happily rubbing the ring. "Whatever! This ring looks awesome—way classier than any designer brand. Since he’s so dead set on ditching it, I’ll let Joan play with it later~~"
The next day, the sun was shining and the sky was clear—a brilliant, glorious day.
Early in the morning, everyone was washed up and dressed to the nines. Commoners, nobles, kings from various lands, and all sorts of elite figures gathered atop the White City’s grand platform. This spot had once suffered the most threatening attacks, bore the strongest defensive magic circles, and even grew the legendary White Tree—a truly special place.
That white tree, symbolizing the unbroken royal bloodline, was utterly destroyed in the battle with the Mountain Giants. But life always finds a way—now, a fresh little sapling had popped up from the earth in the garden. Bathed in sunlight, it grew strong, a sign of renewal after chaos and rebirth after destruction.
Sauron was dead—the last dark age was over. Let this world and that little sapling step into a brand new era together.
Today’s grand ceremony was long-awaited—and absolutely deserved.
At the perfect hour, proud soldiers raised shining brass horns. The horns gleamed in the sunlight, as did the soldiers’ faces. They puffed out their cheeks and blew with all their might—the victorious sound rang out across the White City. The crowds below heard it and erupted in wild cheers.
Amid the cheers, Queen Galadriel, Lord Elrond, Gandalf the White Robe Wizard, and the King of Rohan—all these exalted figures turned their gaze toward the palace gates of the White City.
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Jasper Xiao appeared.
He carried the Sword of Kings, clad in formal, imposing armor, his steps steady and resolute as he came into view.
In that moment, everyone’s eyes were fixed on him. The crowd parted like waves, and several special guests came into view—Aragorn was there too. The Elven Prince, the Dwarf Prince, Frodo and the other three hobbits, the entire original Fellowship—they all showed up. Sauron’s shadow had vanished, and the curses he left behind were gone too. Those who’d once been in peril now arrived, radiant and full of life.
They came with blessings and admiration—and, of course, just a touch of awkwardness.
The awkward part? There was only one throne, but now two possible kings. No one knew quite how Aragorn and Jasper Xiao were supposed to face each other.
Frodo quietly tugged Gandalf’s sleeve and whispered, "Old wizard, you’re the wisest one here—what do we do?"
"I don’t know either." This double-king situation was far from ideal, but Gandalf didn’t seem worried: "Still, I do know one thing: both of these men are true heroes, tested by darkness. They won’t bring any shadow to the world."
The crown was brought forth, held by the oldest immortal in the world—none other than Lady Galadriel herself. She gracefully approached Jasper Xiao and, under the gaze of the crowd, presented the crown: "I’m not qualified to crown you, because you don’t need anyone’s blessing. I can only say: you truly deserve this."
"King!" "King!" "King!" The shouts rose up in waves, soon swelling into a tidal roar. Each cry came from a passionate heart, and together, their fervor made a holy light shine from Jasper Xiao. Within that light, a crown-shaped Holy Seal formed and leapt forth.
Holy Seal—King.
This was a seriously powerful Holy Seal, capable of boosting any Paladin’s strength sky-high.
But Jasper Xiao just looked at the crown—and suddenly smiled.
"King?" He picked up the crown, smiling and shaking his head. "This crown doesn’t belong to me."
The cheers stopped, abruptly.
Holding the crown, Jasper Xiao walked step by step to Aragorn. He met Aragorn’s complex, stunned gaze with eyes clear as sky and sea: "Honestly, I’m confident I could be a good king. I’d care for my people, be loyal and brave, and... lead everyone to a better life. So, brother—"
He clapped Aragorn’s shoulder: "I hope you can do it too, because if you mess up, I’ll be the one embarrassed. I’m not hoping to be sung about for ages, but I don’t want historians to call me a fool or an idiot either. It’s fine not to chase fame, but at least don’t leave a bad name, right, Aragorn?"
"I..." Aragorn opened his mouth, but really didn’t know what to say.
"Oh, and one more thing." Jasper Xiao reluctantly stroked the Sword of the True King. The sword sang softly, as if it didn’t want to part with him. But he finally shoved it into Aragorn’s arms: "This is a fine sword—a king’s sword. Don’t let it gather dust."
Crack! The crown-shaped Holy Seal shattered, scattering into countless points of light and vanishing. He’d refused the throne and a chance to boost his power—he’d lost more than just a fancy title.
Aragorn gazed deeply at the Paladin before him. Words swelled in his heart, but all he could do was nod—hard.
The rightful heir took the sword from his arms and pressed it back into the Paladin’s hands: "Better you keep it. I’m pretty confident in myself, but if my descendants ever lose their way—if someone gets lost in the whirlpool of power and desire—Jasper Xiao, my brother, you or your successor must take up this sword. Strike down tyrants, cut down villains, and slay the demons that block our path. Let the light of heroes shine across the world again!"
The points of light flew back from every direction, returning to Jasper Xiao’s body. A brand new Holy Seal formed—not outwardly, but deep within his soul, shining bright. It was a sword, radiant and straight.
Holy Seal: Hero.
Three days later, the Void Ferry arrived. In the blink of an eye, the Chosen Ones left Middle-earth and returned to Earth—their birthplace.
Going there and coming back, everyone had changed. The loot in their inventory and the scars on their bodies weren’t the only things they brought home. Beyond what could be measured, maybe the intangible gains were even more important.
Jasper Xiao gave up the throne and power, but what did he gain? He found something more solid and lasting than authority or strength. On the long road to godhood, only such unchanging, rock-steady things can help him reach the end.
Since he’d promised to meet the twins at the throne above, he had to keep moving forward, one step at a time.
Godhood—what does it mean?
Does it mean eternity?
Does it mean omnipotence?
Does it mean supreme glory and endless power?
Maybe so, but it also means a path full of thorns—a heavy burden and a stormy journey.
"Major Sting, you’re finally back!" Jasper Xiao had just returned to Earth when he got an urgent message. The officer on the other end of the video looked panicked and rushed, clearly bringing big news: "The top brass have called an emergency hearing—the situation is critical! You need to come back right away; the committee needs your input!"
Jasper Xiao frowned: "What happened?"
"World War—looks like it’s really about to start!" The officer’s face was tense, full of looming dread and panic. "The Black Death Emperor—arrived at Midway Island yesterday..."