The New Covenant Council spirit-chain was finally settling down.
The halo of light hanging in midair no longer flashed violently from bright to dim, but turned with a slow, weighty rhythm—
as if it had finally found an "orbit."
[Errors shall not be cleared to zero.]
[The World Recovery Contingency is downgraded to a backup protocol.]
[All who bear names may participate.]
[The gods are entrusted guardians; they shall deliberate with all races, and any dispute shall go to arbitration.]
Line after line of new backbone clauses were nailed into the world's paper.
The wind inside the Clocktower, however, was not much warmer.
On the mortal seats, someone hunched over, shaking with their head in their hands.
On the minor-god seats, clusters of light curled in on themselves.
On the main-god seats, the shadows of the High Gods sat in dark silence—
Everyone knew: words written down did not mean hearts were convinced.
The bigger problem was the world itself.
Far off in the system layer, the self-check module swept out a long string of cold evaluations:
[New Covenant backbone clauses: written.]
[Old rollback fissures: temporarily stitched.]
[Overall structural fluctuation: still high.]
[Prediction:]
[In the short term, inertia from old clauses, friction from new rules, and mutual distrust between parties will continuously generate new errors.]
[If no additional buffering mechanism exists, the system may, at some future node, once again lean toward "extreme methods of settling the ledger."]
"Extreme methods."
From the Observer Seat, Qi Luo stared at that line and gave a strained smile.
"It's already being much more polite," Ruan Ji said hoarsely, sitting down beside him. "Earlier, all it ever wrote was 'rollback'."
"Now it's learned to word things nicely."
Qi Luo didn't laugh.
He was looking deeper.
In one corner of the world's paper, faint new lines were beginning to grow—
They were "add-on space" extending out from the New Covenant backbone.
Like the crowded corner of a ledger almost full, the world was forcing open a sliver of margin, getting ready to write in "guarantee clauses."
[Suggestion: introduce a "stability node" for the operation of the New Covenant, to shoulder additional costs generated during the period of rule-friction.]
[Said node should possess:]
[——High coupling with existing clauses;]
[——The ability to be marked, invoked, and deleted;]
[——Upon deletion, the capacity to release part of the accumulated structural pressure, preventing the system from once again leaning toward a full-board settlement.]
In extremely technical language, the world had just提出 something that, down in Rust Street, they would call a "fuse."
"Stability node," Yuan Heng's shadowed figure also saw the line.
He was silent for a moment. "So this is what you'd call—"
"'Set someone up so if they die, everyone else gets to live.'"
The mortal seats stirred uneasily.
"What the hell is a 'stability node' supposed to be?" the Rust Street craftsman muttered. "It doesn't sound lucky."
The old priest's eyes dimmed. "It means… when something goes catastrophically wrong, the system can cut this one first."
"Use that one name to plug a larger hole."
The light on the minor-god seats shivered. "Isn't that just the old 'sacrifice' all over again?"
"Not exactly the same," a minor god who'd picked up a bit of theology said weakly. "Now the world is writing 'bear the structural pressure,' not 'please the gods'."
"Sacrifices used to be for the High Gods to see."
"This one… is for the world itself to use."
——
Qi Luo stared at the words "stability node." A dull tightness spread through his sternum.
He knew this proposal didn't mean the world was suddenly turning cruel.
If anything, it was the opposite: this was the first time it had not gone straight for a one-click rollback.
It was searching for a compromise cost—
Not erasing everyone's errors anymore, but also not planning to endure chaos from rule-friction indefinitely.
It needed an outlet.
A name that could be tagged as "sacrifice when necessary."
"It's really just asking one question," Qi Luo murmured. "——'So who's willing to be the fuse?'"
Ruan Ji snapped her head toward him. "Don't say it."
Qi Luo turned his face away, dodging her gaze. "I didn't say anything."
The world, however, had no intention of letting them play deaf.
[Stability node candidates:]
[1. Must hold high-level permissions and be able to directly touch backbone clauses.]
[2. Must be a name that has already consented to serve as a New Covenant cost node.]
[3. Deletion of this name must strongly impact structural operation, but not to the degree of total system collapse.]
[Current name matching all conditions: Qi Luo.]
This line slipped quietly into the vision of a few seats.
On the high seats, one of the main-god shadows let out a low laugh.
"The world's very honest."
"It knows this whole setup started with the Key himself writing it in."
"'This name may be deleted at any time.'"
"He handed the knife over himself."
Down on the mortal seats, the Rust Street craftsman couldn't see these system details.
He only sensed Qi Luo's breath suddenly catch.
"Qi Luo?" He stood. "What's wrong?"
Qi Luo rubbed his brow. "Nothing."
——Even he didn't believe his own "nothing."
Ruan Ji grabbed his wrist.
Through the collaboration chain, a cold system prompt slid into her perception:
[Reminder: as a collaborative node, you may be affected by the stability node clauses.]
[Suggestion: move away from the signing node.]
She looked straight at Qi Luo, teeth clenched. "You heard it."
"The world's already hung 'stability node' next to your name."
"What you need to do now is not walk toward it, but—"
"—spell it out," Qi Luo cut her off.
"Spell it out?"
"If we write it clearly, it won't be 'any old wire anyone can grab and burn'," he said softly.
"If we write it clearly, it won't be the next 'Recovery Contingency'."
"You forget?" He met her eyes. "Recovery Contingency was a 'stabilizing mechanism' back in the day too."
"No one wrote down what the cost was."
"No one wrote down whose neck went on the block."
"So in the end it became a hammer you could drop on anyone's head whenever you felt like it."
Ruan Ji opened her mouth and found no sound.
It wasn't that she didn't understand.
If anything, she understood too well.
——If they didn't nail down the rules of this "stability node" now,
——then anyone could be shoved into that slot later.
"You want to fill that pit," she said tightly. "With yourself."
Qi Luo smiled faintly. "Someone has to walk it first."
——
The world dragged out a new frame over the blank space.
[New Covenant Appendix · Temporary Administrator Clauses (draft):]
[Purpose: to provide a "cost buffer node" for the operation of the New Covenant, bearing some of the price of structural stabilization and Old Covenant error-correction in a world where holistic rollback will no longer be used.]
[Candidate: current Temporary Administrator · Qi Luo.]
[Status: unsigned.]
The moment that frame appeared, the temperature of the entire council hall seemed to drop by a degree.
Someone on the mortal seats blurted, "No way!"
The minor-god seats flared into a panic of flickering light.
On the main-god seats, though, there was only a strange quiet.
"Why so quiet up there?" the Rust Street craftsman shouted at the high seats. "Weren't you the ones who loved talking about 'noble sacrifice for the world' the most?"
"Now that somebody's actually putting his name in the slot, you all clam up?"
A main-god projection replied icily, "We merely refuse to admit this clause is necessary."
"The sooner we do, the harder it will be to turn back from it."
"Do you have another plan, then?" the old priest asked, voice surprisingly calm.
"Any way to keep the New Covenant from generating massive friction in the short term and make the old fissures heal on their own?"
"If you do— I'll be the first to recite it for you in my prayers."
"If you don't, then don't put on a show of false mercy while that child down there is putting pen to paper."
"You weren't this soft-hearted before."
The main gods said nothing more.
They couldn't say "yes."
They knew perfectly well: clashes between old and new rules would go on for a long time.
The quarrels between gods and mortals, minor gods and main gods, all races and the world itself wouldn't vanish just because of a few lines of covenant text.
Errors would keep happening.
Right now, the world was merely saying: instead of using "rollback" to swallow all errors again, it wanted to try stopping part of the pressure at one deletable name first.
——
Qi Luo rose to his feet.
The light-wall before the signing node lit up again.
"Don't go," Ruan Ji grabbed his sleeve. "You've already paid once for the backbone clauses."
"Your deletion difficulty is much higher now than it was. The world wrote that down itself—deleting you requires a special procedure."
"If you write yourself into the 'stability node,' you're giving it a chance to walk around that barrier in broad daylight and spend you as 'structural cost'."
"I know," Qi Luo said.
"And you're still going?"
"Yes." He looked at her and slowly smiled.
"I'm not doing this to make things easier for it."
"I want a place that reminds it, when it tries to take the easy way—"
He tapped his chest. "——you have another option."
"You can delete me without deleting the world."
"When you feel the itch to hit 'rollback,' you can hit 'Temporary Administrator' first."
"That's cheap," Ruan Ji bit out. "You're treating your own life like a fuse wire."
"You cursed this kind of setup in Rust Street so many times."
"I did," Qi Luo nodded. "That's why I know how it runs."
"And if I know, I can at least try to rewrite 'fuse' as—"
He thought for a moment, then forced out four words: "——'Temporary Administrator'."
He stepped toward the signing node.
The self-check module flashed a short warning:
[Warning: the Temporary Administrator is attempting to register himself as a stability node.]
[Consequence: in future events of severe structural risk, this name will become the priority target for cost-bearing.]
[Confirm continuation?]
Qi Luo stopped in front of the light-wall instead of stepping through.
He tipped his head back and yelled at the world, "Can you not ask it like that?"
[Ask it how?]
"For example—" he looked up, "ask, 'Are you willing to use your name as a security deposit that keeps the world's finger off the rollback key?'."
The world went silent for a beat.
[Adjusting system wording:]
[——]
[Question: Qi Luo, do you consent to registering your name as the Temporary Administrator's security deposit, to bear the costs of New Covenant operation and Old Covenant error-correction when necessary, thereby reducing the system's inclination to roll the entire game back?]
"That's more like it," Qi Luo murmured.
He stepped through the light-wall.
The stone beneath his feet went cold again.
Unlike the last time he'd rewritten backbone clauses, the barrier did not fully block out sound this time.
The mortal seats, the minor-god seats, the main-god seats—everyone could see him standing in that empty space, as if in the middle of an enormous sheet of paper that had yet to be fully written.
[New Covenant Appendix · Temporary Administrator Clauses (draft):]
[1. To prevent the system from reverting to "full-board rollback" when faced with a large volume of future errors, establish a "cost buffer node" to bear part of the cost of New Covenant operation and Old Covenant error-correction.]
[2. Said node must be a name registered in a state of informed consent, and highly coupled with the New Covenant structure.]
[3. This name may, under specific conditions, be deleted to release accumulated structural pressure; such deletion shall not be used to erase error records.]
[Candidate: Temporary Administrator · Qi Luo.]
[Status: unsigned.]
Qi Luo looked at those lines and drew a long breath.
"Clause three," he said.
"Clause three needs to change."
The world paused. "Change what?"
"You wrote, 'deleted to release structural pressure'."
"You need to add a line—that such deletion may not erase existing error records and compensation duties."
Clause three on the light-screen slowly shifted:
[3. This name may, under specific conditions, be deleted to bear and release part of the accumulated structural pressure.]
[However, such deletion shall not be used to erase existing error records, compensation duties, or New Covenant clauses.]
[Its effect is strictly limited to preventing structural collapse and shall not constitute any form of 'rollback substitute'.]
Qi Luo nodded.
"Clause four," he went on. "We need to spell out who decides deletion."
"You don't get to just delete whenever your system mood dips."
The world was quiet for a moment, then wrote a new line on the light-screen:
[4. Deletion of this node may only be carried out through a special New Covenant Council review procedure. It must be jointly determined by human, god, and non-human representatives, together with the self-check module, that 'Name-Erasure is the only necessary means to prevent structural collapse.']
[No single party may erase this name unilaterally.]
"That's better." Qi Luo smiled. "So even if you wake up in a bad mood someday and want the easy way out, you'll have to schedule a meeting first."
"Let them yell at you for a while."
"You like having people watch you die?" the world asked coldly.
"I like having people watch their own choices," Qi Luo corrected it.
"Every one of you—god or mortal or otherwise—if you ever actually raise your hand to vote 'erase Qi Luo'…"
"You'd better understand you're voting for this—"
He pressed his palm to his chest. "——'Use one name so the world doesn't hit rollback.'"
At the edge of the light-screen, the world carefully appended a remark:
[Note: this procedure is irreversible.]
[Once executed, this name shall be removed from all Covenant Chains and mortal records, remaining only in the error ledger as a "cost entry."]
Outside the light-wall, Ruan Ji stared at the line "remaining only in the error ledger."
Her fingers dug into her palms, knuckles white.
"Can you at least…" she rasped, "write one more line—say they have to ask me first, before they delete you."
Qi Luo blinked.
Then he suddenly laughed—bitterly.
"That's not a clause," he said. "That's a personal request."
"Then I'm requesting it," Ruan Ji ground out. "Write it."
The world issued a cool system prompt:
[Personal requests will not be written into the New Covenant backbone.]
[But they may be recorded inside the relevant parties' own god-covenants.]
A heartbeat later, deep within Ruan Ji's Covenant Chain, a tiny note appeared:
[When the world and all seats debate whether to delete the name of Temporary Administrator · Qi Luo, the being known as "Ruan Ji" has the right to submit an opinion.]
[Said opinion carries no veto power, but must be recorded as a side-note to the final decision.]
Ruan Ji froze.
Qi Luo lifted his gaze to her. "Is that good enough?" he asked softly.
"…No," she said. "But it's better than nothing."
——
On the light-screen, the Temporary Administrator clauses had taken shape:
[New Covenant Appendix · Temporary Administrator Clauses:]
[1. To prevent the system from reverting to "full-board rollback," establish a "Temporary Administrator cost node" to bear part of the cost of New Covenant operation and Old Covenant error-correction.]
[2. This node must be a name that is both fully informed and voluntarily registered, and highly coupled with the New Covenant backbone structure.]
[3. This name may, under specific circumstances, be deleted to release accumulated structural pressure, but such deletion shall not erase any error records, compensation duties, or New Covenant clauses.]
[4. Deletion of this name must undergo a special New Covenant Council review. Only when human, god, and non-human representatives, together with the self-check module, jointly determine that it is "the last necessary means to prevent structural collapse" may it be carried out. No single party may erase this name on its own.]
[5. After deletion, this name shall be recorded only as a cost entry in the error ledger, listed as "price paid for the stabilization of the New Covenant and correction of Old Covenant errors." It must not be glorified by later generations as "pure sacrifice," to avoid once again romanticizing cost mechanisms.]
[Candidate name: Qi Luo.]
[Status: pending signature.]
The world lifted an invisible pen.
"Qi Luo," it asked.
[Do you consent, under the conditions above, to register your name as the Temporary Administrator cost node?]
The entire Clocktower went still.
On the mortal seats, the minor-god seats, the main-god seats, across the High Gods' Legion chains where god-messengers hovered, even down in the abyss where the Shadow lurked—
Everyone was waiting for that stroke of the pen.
Qi Luo looked at clause five— "must not be glorified as pure sacrifice"—and couldn't help finding it darkly funny.
"Won't even let me have a nice clean monument," he muttered. "You really went for the throat there."
"That's what you told me to write," the Shadow drawled lazily from below. "Aren't you the one who hates those stories where people's deaths are written up as 'beautiful tales' and never booked properly in the ledger?"
Qi Luo drew in a deep breath.
"Fine," he said.
"Then let's keep the ledger straight."
He raised his hand. His fingertip hovered for a moment behind the words "Candidate name: Qi Luo"—
Then traced a stroke downward.
It was not any known divine sigil, nor an ordinary mortal signature.
It was a string of Forbidden Sigils from his childhood nightmares, finally written whole—
The same indecipherable lines the Fallen Knights had seen carved on his chest in the pipes, when the god-covenants couldn't recognize him at all.
Now, for the first time, they were being fully recorded on the world's paper.
[Signed: Qi Luo]
[Identity: Temporary Administrator · cost node]
[Note: this name may be deleted at any time, to bear the cost of New Covenant stabilization and Old Covenant error-correction.]
The instant this last line surfaced, every spirit-chain in the tower shuddered at once.
It wasn't the tremor of battle, but a sweeping adjustment at the structural level—
As if the weight that had once pressed solely on "World Recovery Contingency" had been shifted, in part, onto this newly written, tiny name.
Down in the abyss, the old rollback fissure was cinched tighter.
It struggled briefly, then seemed to be stitched down into a corner by fresh lines.
The self-check module updated its conclusion:
[Rollback tendency: sharply reduced.]
[New Covenant operating pressure: partially transferred to the Temporary Administrator node.]
[Overall structural stability: improved in the short term; long-term to be evaluated.]
A cold sensation poured through Qi Luo's sternum, inside out.
It wasn't pain so much as the feeling of being slowly pulled away from the world, out of alignment.
He dropped his gaze to his own spirit-chain.
——It was gone.
No, not completely. It had become a half-transparent thread.
To others, it was still there—just faded almost to the same color as the background.
From the world's perspective, his name now bore a special frame:
[Temporary Administrator · Qi Luo]
[Deletable name (through special review).]
[Roles: New Covenant backbone editor / cost node.]
On the mortal seats, the Rust Street craftsman suddenly shivered.
"Look at his shadow," he rasped. "Is it… lighter?"
The old priest froze, his eyes widening.
On the level mortal eyes could see, Qi Luo's outline had not thinned.
He still stood there—cloak, hair, breath—all very real.
Only—
The shadow he cast on the stone wall behind him had started to pale at one corner.
As though that piece were slowly merging into the stone.
On the minor-god seats, a particularly sensitive glow-ball curled up tight. "His… his name, where we see it, looks like half of it's been erased."
"The world is sliding him toward the 'cost entry' side," the Shadow murmured. "It's running a rehearsal in advance—what it would feel like if it actually deleted him one day."
Ruan Ji burst through the light-wall and grabbed Qi Luo's wrist.
The barrier didn't stop her this time—
As though, after these clauses were signed, it admitted it no longer had any right to stand between them.
"How do you feel?" she asked in a low, tight voice. "Truthfully."
"Like…" Qi Luo thought for a long time. "Like someone drew a dotted line under my name."
"And now all it takes is one snip to cut that line out of this page."
"Are you scared?" Ruan Ji asked.
Qi Luo considered it.
"Yes," he said.
"Scared?" She blinked, clearly not expecting him to be that blunt.
"Afraid they really will raise their hands someday, and do it too lightly," Qi Luo said with a crooked smile.
"Afraid they'll forget whose neck the blade is falling on."
"Afraid the world will decide hitting this key is easier than keeping the error ledger."
"And you still signed?"
"Yes," Qi Luo said.
"Because while I'm afraid of all that, I'm afraid of something else too."
"What?"
"I'm afraid it'll get tired someday."
Qi Luo lifted his eyes to the vast sheet of paper.
"Afraid it'll say, 'Forget it, rollback is easier'."
"I'd rather brace that first sigh of exhaustion right here."
He paused, then added under his breath, "You know how it is."
"You've been a Hunter long enough. You know in the end, someone always has to stand on the unluckiest square."
"I just don't want it to be anyone else anymore."
Ruan Ji stared at him.
A long time later, she drew a deep breath.
"Fine," she said.
"Then you stand."
"I'll stand right beside you."
"Before the world deletes you, it'll at least have to look at me first."
She looked up and addressed the world, voice like ice:
"Listen closely."
"From now on, whenever any god, mortal, or race representative raises their hand to cast that vote—"
"——you will record their names, and my dissent or consent, together after that decision."
The world answered, as it always did, exactly:
[Recorded: in any future execution of the Temporary Administrator deletion procedure, the names of all voters and their positions must be logged.]
[This record shall not be erased.]
[It shall count as an "accomplice roster" for the cost mechanism.]
Qi Luo couldn't help a short laugh. "Accomplice roster."
"Good," he murmured. "Then nobody gets to wash their hands clean."
——
The light-wall around the signing node slowly faded.
The ink in the New Covenant Appendix section dried.
[New Covenant Appendix · Temporary Administrator Clauses: signed.]
[Status: in effect.]
[Current Temporary Administrator cost node: Qi Luo.]
[Reminder: this name's existence-status is now "half-bound, half-deletable," presenting as semi-transparent at the structural level.]
[All parties should account for this node's carrying capacity when enforcing future clauses, and refrain from over-reliance.]
For once, the world had added a line about "avoiding over-reliance."
As if reminding itself, and everyone present—don't throw every piece of wreckage at this one name.
But in the corner of the paper, it wrote another tiny note:
[When the system once again faces the temptation of "rollback," it may first evaluate "whether invoking the Temporary Administrator cost node can avert full-board settlement."]
[This shall serve as the final buffer between New Covenant and Old.]
Qi Luo returned to the Observer Seat, looking, at a glance, not so different from before.
Only—when mortals lifted their eyes and used spirit-sight on the ring of chains—
Among the countless lights of names, there was one spot just slightly dimmer than the rest.
That light wasn't extinguished.
It was still there, only looking as though any gust might snuff it out.
That was the seat of the Temporary Administrator.
And the place where the signature under "this name may be deleted at any time, to bear the cost of New Covenant stabilization and Old Covenant error-correction" had finally come to rest.