When no one spoke, the crackling sound of wood burning from the fireplace became especially pronounced.
Casually walking up to the fireplace, Zhou Qian, with half of his face illuminated by the firelight, gave Qi Liuxing a knowing look. Qi Liuxing quickly took out something resembling a Bluetooth earpiece from his bag. This pair of earpieces was called [Secret Call], a small tool given to Zhou Qian by [137] in the previous instance, which allowed two people to chat privately without being overheard.
Now, Qi Liuxing approached the bookshelf, pretending to look at book titles but was actually speaking quietly with his back turned to the others. “Hmm? What’s the situation? I think your third point was spot-on and critical. There are many hidden plot points in this instance. By triggering these plots, we can either increase or decrease our life points. So the rankings earlier really aren’t important—at least not now.”
After some thought, Qi Liuxing added, “I think the early stages are primarily for exploration. Once all areas are explored and everyone’s life points rankings are solidified, some will start killing based on the situation.”
However, Zhou Qian decisively responded, “You’re wrong.”
Qi Liuxing turned his head to glance back and noticed Zhou Qian standing by the fireplace. Facing the flames and his back to the crowd, nobody would suspect that he was discussing anything. The rest of the teammates began exploring the room, seemingly not noticing Zhou Qian’s actions. Qi Liuxing then asked, “What do you mean?”
“Currently, I rank first, Li Buhui is second… and Wu Ren is last.” Zhou Qian queried, “Did you notice that the rankings might have a hidden pattern when viewed from another angle?”
After mentally reviewing the rankings, Qi Liuxing exclaimed, “Oh, I see… If we rank by combat capabilities or killing abilities… Wu Ren would be first!”
Without considering the cunning use of skills or rare items to counter-kill or escape, purely based on combat capability, it was easy to see that the combat rankings of players were inversely related to their life points. Zhou Qian, having the highest life points, also had the lowest combat capability under normal circumstances.
Zhou Qian added, “Furthermore, the system mentioned that players with higher points can’t obtain cards and points from players with lower points after killing them. But this doesn’t mean that high-point players can’t kill those with fewer points. So, in this game, players can freely kill each other. The significance of points is only relevant to whether one can obtain cards after killing.”
Qi Liuxing, taken aback, realized the implications.
Zhou Qian continued, “The life point rankings are merely a smokescreen. As you mentioned earlier, the ranking can change drastically as we uncover the story. But our combat capabilities won’t change, which is the real deciding factor in this game.”
Based on combat capability, the player rankings were: 1. Wu Ren; 2. Situ Qing; 3. Ke Yuxiao; 4. Yin Jiujiu; 5. Qi Liuxing; 6. Li Buhui; 7. Zhou Qian.
People with relatively lower combat capabilities were actually the ones with more points right now.
Wu Ren, who was ranked first, could target everyone ranked below him.
As for Situ Qing, she wouldn’t target Wu Ren. In extreme situations where she needed to kill for points, she would be inclined to target those ranked 3 to 7.
The same logic could be applied to others.
Zhou Qian mused, “Players with higher combat capabilities will target those with lower capabilities. How will the ones with lower capabilities respond?”
Qi Liuxing quickly replied, “If it were me, I’d be wary of those ranked higher in combat. Perhaps… take the initiative and strike first.”
Zhou Qian nodded. “Exactly. Assuming a ‘kill or be killed’ situation, disregarding teaming up, morals, friendships, and the like, and just focusing on maximizing personal benefits and minimizing risks…”
“If you see Yin Jiujiu, ranked ahead of you, running out of mana, knowing that she might try to kill you when her mana recovers in an hour, you’d strike first and kill her.”
“From the perspective of my own survival, I need to analyze the choices of others. So, based on the analysis above, temporarily excluding all special cases, I can abstract the predicament I’m facing into a simple problem—”
“First, everyone wants to kill me. I am the ‘lamb to the slaughter’, and the remaining six of you are hunters.”
“Second, if the top-ranked hunter kills me and loses their mana for an hour, they will surely be killed by the second-ranked person, taking the initiative of striking first. The same logic applies to others.”
Qi Liuxing frowned. “So, we have to analyze the choices of each person? Hmm… If I think in sequence from the beginning, it’s hard for me to analyze.”
Zhou Qian said, “Right, so we should deduce from the back to the front.”
“Ranked 6th is Li Buhui. Firstly, he can kill me.”
“For those of you ranked in the top five, you can kill him anytime, whether his mana is depleted or not, it doesn’t affect you much. So even if he kills me and drains his mana, he doesn’t care, because even at full energy, he can’t beat any of you.”
“Secondly, as per our previous analysis, if you kill me and lose your mana, Li Buhui will surely kill you. He still doesn’t fear losing his mana because the person who might’ve preemptively targeted him, me, would have already been killed by you.”
“So, what would you do at this time?”
Qi Liuxing quickly replied, “Li Buhui can freely kill without hesitation. If I guess his choice, then to avoid being killed by him, I certainly won’t kill you.”
“Then we can make predictions for two people—Li Buhui might kill me; you won’t kill me.”
With that said, Zhou Qian continued, “Let’s deduce from the back to the front again. The one ranked before you is Yin Jiujiu, in fourth place. Assuming she’s smart and can analyze everything we’ve said…”
“That means she knows you’d be wary of Li Buhui and won’t kill me, her, or anyone else. In other words, she has anticipated your prediction. Under such circumstances, she’d dare to make a move on others!”
Zhou Qian’s voice deepened. “By this logic, the Rank 3rd Ke Yuxiao won’t make a move, but the Rank 2nd Situ Qing will.”
“So, to simplify things, in extreme cases, those ranked in even numbers are most likely to target me.”
After a silence of thirty seconds, Qi Liuxing finally comprehended everything and exclaimed, “Impressive…”
“I think my doctor is even more impressive. He sent me a message a few seconds before I figured it out.” Zhou Qian looked up and smiled silently towards a certain direction in the void, then turned his gaze back to the flames in the fireplace.
“Of course, this is a simplified analysis, excluding many special cases. The real situation might be different. However, the three people in even rankings, excluding Situ Qing for now, Yin Jiujiu and Li Buhui are still the ones I need to be cautious of.”
After a pause of three seconds, Qi Liuxing said, “So now we have anticipated their predictions. You’ve explained all this to me… You actually want me to help guard against them, right? Speaking of which—”
At this point, without relying on a private chat earpiece, Qi Liuxing walked to the fireplace. “You’ve been staring at this for so long. What’s in here?”
Beside the coat rack was a cane.
Zhou Qian took the cane, stirred the logs, and pulled out a charred object—shockingly, it was a burned human head.
“What the hell is this?” Qi Liuxing frowned.
“When Li Buhui went to open the door, a ghostly figure of a little girl appeared, preventing him from doing so and asking him to find her murderer,” Zhou Qian said. “Perhaps this little girl was killed in this room.”
After a pause, Zhou Qian added, “Not only was she killed, but she might’ve also been dismembered. We’ve found fingers, some hair, and a skull… There should be other body parts to find.”
Qi Liuxing wasn’t afraid of ghosts, but hearing about a murder or words like “dismemberment” instinctively made him uncomfortable. He said to Zhou Qian, “Let’s look together then. Since we’ve already discovered it, the exploration itself isn’t dangerous. We might lose some points at most. But given that we only have so many hours to survive, it’s better to leave the study sooner.”
While discussing the situation related to the little girl’s body, the two openly conversed aloud, and the rest, hearing it, began to search for related items.
They boldly opened all the cabinets and took down each book from the shelves to inspect.
Qi Liuxing pulled open the large cabinet near the fireplace. The cabinet was mostly empty, with hardly anything inside. But strangely, there was a frame inside.
He took out the frame and noticed some glass fragments on the inner side of the wooden frame.
“This…This is…”
Qi Liuxing began, but Zhou Qian finished his sentence for him. “It’s a mirror frame. Look over there—”
Following the direction of Zhou Qian’s finger, Qi Liuxing saw a trash can.
Setting one end of the frame on the ground so that it leaned against the tall cabinet, Qi Liuxing walked over to the trash can. He quickly realized that it contained many shards of a mirror.
Returning to the wooden frame, he noticed a brown rope attached to one side. He looked around and saw Zhou Qian heading somewhere.
Following Zhou Qian, Qi Liuxing saw two nails on the wall. It appeared Zhou Qian had the same realization—there used to be a mirror hanging on the wall in this study. For some reason, someone shattered the mirror, threw the fragments into the trash, and placed the frame back in the cabinet.
Why was the mirror shattered?
Zhou Qian, too, couldn’t figure out the reason. He then began searching the desk for clues.
Ignoring the many details on the tabletop, he opened a drawer. Inside were some hair bands, hair clips, and, surprisingly, another mirror. This one was much smaller, about the size of a palm, and oval-shaped. It was weird, though—someone had painted it black, rendering it useless as a mirror.
A large mirror had been shattered, and a small one had been painted over.
Was someone avoiding looking in mirrors?
What happened next seemed to confirm Zhou Qian’s suspicion. Yin Jiujiu suddenly produced something resembling a makeup compact. The mirror inside it was also broken; its fragments mixed with the powder, creating a chaotic mess.
The group gathered and briefly discussed.
“Why doesn’t she dare to look in the mirror? Is she a vampire?”
“We shouldn’t make wild guesses without new evidence.”
“I agree. We only know she might be an evil spirit. Whether or not she fears mirrors, we can’t say.”
“Hold on. Look at this,” Yin Jiujiu’s voice called from the desk. She held up a photo that Zhou Qian had noticed earlier but hadn’t examined closely.
The photo depicted what seemed to be a witch’s execution. Yin Jiujiu read aloud from the back of the photo—
“Evil witches… are the flowers of evil spreading like a disease in this town! They grow in power, harming the innocent. They will be punished! My mother is also a terrifying witch! She claims I am an evil spirit… and says she will kill and seal me!”
“Damn it, I am just a living human being. I am not an evil spirit! My mother has gone mad… She’s insane!”
“I’ll report her to the town leader! Before she kills me… I’ll have her reported! Then she’ll end up like the woman in this photo, burned alive by flames. Then I won’t die!”
After reading this, Yin Jiujiu commented, “It seems that the little girl was probably killed by her mother. I think her mother wasn’t caught. At least not before her daughter’s death.”
Li Buhui, who had the second-highest number of life points, immediately responded, “What are we waiting for? Let me try opening the door. Maybe if we tell her this, she’ll let us out. And then we can explore other places. Perhaps opening the door will cost me some life points, but maybe solving the little girl’s problem will earn me some. Either way, I think it’s worth the risk!”
It was Ke Yuxiao who stopped him this time.
“No, wait.”
Normally mild-mannered, Ke Yuxiao’s tone was now firm, almost reprimanding, indicating the seriousness of the situation.
Ke Yuxiao was a very mild-mannered person. Zhou Qian’s impression of him was that he was the type to leisurely water plants and play with birds, living a quiet and peaceful life. However, his tone at this moment was quite stern, almost bordering on reprimand. It was clear he considered the situation very serious.
Li Buhui, taken aback by his shout, asked, “What’s wrong?”
Ke Yuxiao said, “Assuming our conjecture is correct, the owner of this room is a witch. She believed her daughter to be an evil spirit, so she killed her. She then hid different parts of her daughter’s body in various locations within this room to seal this ‘evil spirit’. Based on this theory, the entity that has trapped us now is the ‘daughter’s’ soul. But should we really help her?”
“She claims she’s not an evil spirit, but what if she really is one…”
[Please note, each person can only draw one card, and each person has only one chance. If you are not satisfied with the card result, you are not allowed to return the card to the black box and draw another one.]
[Violators will die instantly.]
These two lines of messages blinked for a few seconds before disappearing.
Because of this, Zhou Qian, who was skilled in gambling and good at playing cards, had to temporarily abandon his plan to hide the cards.
Zhou Qian was now standing by a desk, the closest to the black box. He walked up directly and became the first person to draw a card.
After drawing and looking at the card, in the center was a simple number—”24″.
But this number wasn’t directly printed on it; it seemed to be some kind of electronic display.
According to the system, this would be his life points. But what these points meant, Zhou Qian didn’t know yet, so he quickly put the card into his bag.
The other six players exchanged glances and then approached to draw cards in turn.
After this, the system didn’t give any new instructions, and for a moment, the players seemed unsure of what to do.
The first to make a move was the average faced Li Buhui. He went straight to the door, put his hand on the doorknob, and tried to open it.
“I think you all are being too cautious. Unless it’s an instance where you have to fight monsters right away, in decryption-related games, no matter how hard, players need information to play. So, there is no risk of unexplained death at the beginning.”
“Even if this instance has something to do with witches, it’s not a big deal. The finger and hair we saw just now are probably related to witchcraft, right? But both Jiujiu and I touched them, and we’re fine!”
After saying this, Li Buhui tried to turn the doorknob.
But he obviously couldn’t.
“Sss… It doesn’t seem to be stuck, nor does it look locked.”
“It’s strange. Why can’t it be opened…”
The next moment, Li Buhui found the reason.
When he tried to turn the doorknob, another force was turning it in the opposite direction.
So he couldn’t turn the doorknob at all!
“This… This door is very strange.”
Just as Li Buhui said this, he heard Yin Jiujiu’s deep, warning-filled voice. “Watch out, above you—”
Above?
What’s above me?
Before Li Buhui could ask, he saw a strand of wavy brown hair dangling in front of him.
With a shiver in his heart, he suddenly looked up and saw a pale face.
Li Buhui wasn’t easily scared, but he was taken aback by this, letting go of the doorknob and sitting down on the ground.
A semi-transparent figure in a skirt appeared before him. It was clearly the ghost of a little girl. She had a pale face, green eyes, and obvious freckles on her cheeks. Her legs were suspended in mid-air, and she hung upside down, looking at Li Buhui.
Seeing his reaction, the little girl smiled and then hugged his neck, whispering in his ear, “You can’t leave yet. Unless… you find the one who killed me.”
As her words faded, the little girl disappeared.
At this moment, everyone received a notification—
[Player Li Buhui was touched by “?”, losing 2 life points.]
[Players can discover the identity of “?” through exploration.]
Seeing this, Qi Liuxing took Ke Yuxiao to Zhou Qian’s side, giving him a sincere thumbs-up, and whispered, “I initially wanted to ask you if there would be unexplained death risks at the start of the game, which has always been your viewpoint. I didn’t expect… luckily, you stopped me.”
Zhou Qian whispered back, “Whether having more life points is better or having fewer is still uncertain. After all, we don’t know what they really mean. Sometimes… having more isn’t necessarily a good thing.”
Zhou Qian didn’t expect his words to be proven so quickly.
The system soon released new rules.
[Main Quest Triggered: Find a way out of this room.]
[Hint: Please explore as much as possible; clues from the study room are crucial for subsequent progress.]
[Announcing rules related to life points. Please listen carefully.]
[One life point corresponds to one hour of survival in the instance; the countdown starts now.]
In a place where no one could see, Zhou Qian took out his card to check.
The display no longer showed just “24”.
Below the number “24”, a countdown display appeared, showing [59:59].
It seemed that this countdown was calculated by the hour. Meaning, after 59 minutes and 59 seconds, the “24” in the middle of Zhou Qian’s card would turn into “23”.
The system continued to send rules.
[Skills and items related to copying, stealing, and robbing are ineffective on the cards that record life points.]
[The only way to snatch someone’s card is to kill the corresponding player.]
Upon reading this, a chill went down everyone’s spine.
The system messages continued—
[The highest life points one can have is 24, corresponding to 24 hours of survival.]
[The current ranking of seven players by life points, from highest to lowest, is as follows: 1st Zhou Qian; 2nd Li Buhui; 3rd Qi Liuxing; 4th Yin Jiujiu; 5th Ke Yuxiao; 6th Situ Qing; 7th Wu Ren.]
[The system loves peace; to prevent players from killing each other, there are restrictions on player behavior.]
[Players with higher points killing those with lower points will not get the corresponding card. For example, Zhou Qian, you’re already so fortunate to have so many points. Why would you still want to kill? The system does not allow this behavior.]
Lucky? Lucky my ass.
Having a high number of points indeed allowed Zhou Qian to survive for a longer time, but it also made him the target of everyone else!
If one considered players with lower points as hunters, Zhou Qian was now like a sheep, out in the open, ready to be hunted down!
Qi Liuxing and Ke Yuxiao exchanged glances, and both took out a sword and a flute, respectively, standing guard in front of Zhou Qian.
The system rules continued—
[Players with lower points can kill those with higher points to obtain their card and life points. However, doing so will result in a penalty: your mana will be completely drained for an hour, and all mana recovery items will be ineffective during this time.]
[Lastly, cards can be gifted. But if you only have one card and you gift it, your life points will be drained, resulting in immediate death.]
[Tips: 1. There are many hidden plots within the dungeon map. Exploring can not only find ways to complete the dungeon but also increase your life points.]
[2. It’s not recommended to kill teammates at the start of the game. It’s better to work together. After all, having too many points may not be a good thing—]
[The mayor of the town enjoys playing 24-point games, and the last survivors whose points add up to 24 may win the ultimate victory!]
Zhou Qian stood by the desk, glancing at the other players. Most were looking at their wristwatches, probably reviewing the system’s messages to better understand the game rules.
Just then, Zhou Qian sensed something and turned his gaze. He locked eyes with Wu Ren, the player currently ranked last in life points. Known as the Rain Man, Wu Ren specialized in assassination with hidden weapons. Zhou Qian couldn’t let his guard down.
The atmosphere became tense as Wu Ren looked at Zhou Qian with dark, narrow eyes.
Zhou Qian smiled. “You’re not thinking of attacking me, are you?”
Wu Ren didn’t speak but continued to glare at Zhou Qian.
Zhou Qian added, “According to the rules, if I kill you, I won’t gain anything—no card, no benefits. So, it would be pointless for me to attack you. Likewise, it would be pointless for you to kill me. If you do, you won’t be able to use your skills for an hour, making you vulnerable to others.”
“Wu Ren, in your eyes, I may be the ‘lamb’ waiting to be slaughtered right now, but my mana is still full. I can still put up a fight with you. So, in reality, you might not be able to kill me.”
“Even if you do manage to kill me by chance and get my card, your life points will increase, making you the number one lamb to be slaughtered. By then, you will lose an hour of mana. You, as the ‘lamb’, will truly be at the mercy of others.”
“Besides, don’t forget, our primary task now is to explore the storyline and leave this room.”
“You’re a smart person; there’s no need for you to kill me, right?”
The next moment, Rain Man Wu Ren narrowed his eyes.
His eyes were already small, making it look like they were almost invisible.
But the gloomy aura in his eyes showed through, sending shivers down the spine.
He said, “Indeed, I don’t need to kill you right now. Let’s explore first. But—”
He smirked, staring into Zhou Qian’s eyes. “What you just said wasn’t explaining the rules. Me killing you, losing my mana, becoming number one, getting into danger… anyone with half a brain can figure that out.”
“So of course, I won’t kill you. But…”
“The system didn’t mention what happens if we kill you at the same time, did it?
“If all of us kill you simultaneously, maybe we can split your life points. If all of us are involved and our mana is depleted, then no one will have to fear anyone else. Right?”
Zhou Qian smirked. “Ooo… You make it sound like I should be terrified. But—”
“The system didn’t announce such a rule. So you can’t guarantee that teaming up means you can split my life points. Even if multiple people kill one, only the person who deals the killing blow might get the card. Firstly, you’ll just be free labor. Secondly—”
“I led the team in. At most, you can team up with two others. It’s a four vs three situation. Worst case scenario, it’s a mutual loss.”
“The game just started. Do you really want to play it this way? Do you think with only two or three people left, you can get out of this instance? Remember, the ultimate goal is to total 24 points. The specific ‘combination method’ hasn’t been announced by the system. Thirdly—”
Wu Ren seemed taken aback, not expecting a “thirdly”.
He then saw Zhou Qian, smiling pleasantly, walk right up to the doorknob. “Thirdly, how do you know I won’t ask that little girl to hold onto me more?”
With a genuinely happy, even somewhat naive look, Zhou Qian said to Wu Ren, “Maybe if she holds onto me a bit more, I won’t be number one anymore. Is it meaningful for you to make an enemy out of me now? Maybe we’ll be allies soon!”
Wu Ren: “…………”
“The rankings can change at any time, and alliances might be unstable. Instead of harboring resentment against each other now… how about we explore? What do you think?”
Zhou Qian smiled faintly and turned towards the bookshelves.
At that moment, his watch vibrated.
When he checked, it was a message from his gambler and his primary doctor, Li Xuehai—
[Be especially wary of those ranked in even positions, like Yin Jiujiu, Situ Qing, and Li Buhui.]
This was almost exclusively a privilege of the system. It often used this to share accolades or issue warnings. Except in very rare cases, it seldom granted Players the opportunity to use the announcement feature.
And now was one of those “very rare cases”.
The announcement was limited to a hundred words and couldn’t contain special characters. The content that could be conveyed was very limited, so choices must be made carefully.
In Nol’s previous conception, he would use this to contact neighbors scattered all over. He’d be better off lurking in the shadows rather than throwing himself into the maelstrom—just a group of succubi could disturb his peace of mind, so he needed to give himself enough room to breathe.
But now, Nol thought differently.
He looked at the burning sunset on the horizon, the Temple of Life’s flag dyed red by the setting sun, and the mountainous bodies of monsters from the Eternal Church. He saw Teest standing on the golden thread, laughing indifferently, his expression filled with satisfaction and anticipation.
Two hundred years in a world both familiar and strange. Perhaps this was just right for him.
If he no longer unconsciously played the role of a god but instead portrayed a cunning mage with vast knowledge, willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals; an ordinary being among many…
[Good evening. I am the Master of Paradise.]
Nol narrated the content of the announcement. His voice was amplified by the system, sweeping around with the wind of the Black Forest.
[To resist the Demon King’s corruption, at the end of July, the Paradise emblem chose non-human creatures of this land. They have memories from distant times and spaces and are destined for Paradise.]
Nol glanced in Eugene’s direction.
There were many ways to distort the truth, and he couldn’t provide compelling evidence that “this is reality” in just a few words. Rather than convincing Players, it was better to wave the moral banner high—
Joy Garden, no, “Paradise”, was a nascent power that massacred the Eternal Church in plain sight. As big as the Temple of Life was, they shouldn’t be openly hostile just because the Lost Tower didn’t look like a Disney park, right?
This was the first-ever server-wide announcement in Tahe World. Players were eager for clues and would undoubtedly be curious about “Paradise”.
So what if its members were monsters? Shouting the slogan “Resist the Demon King”, would make the enemy of an enemy a friend. Players didn’t have that big of a psychological barrier.
Even if the Temple of Life had ill intentions, they wouldn’t dare to oppose it now.
Now, just one more spark was needed.
[Please guide my compatriots back to the Black Forest, and you will receive generous rewards. Those who cause harm will be enemies of Paradise forever.]
Nol used up the last of his word limit precisely.
‘Come on,’ he thought.
No matter which faction the Players belonged to, their goals were highly consistent—in this world of swords and magic, who wouldn’t want power?
The moment Nol’s words fell, the announcement loaded in front of all Players, with burning characters reflecting in the eyes of both humans and non-humans. Players focused on reading the words, while monsters all looked at the familiar emblem—
Inside the Dragon’s Lair, the slime monster couple dropped the half-eaten poisonous mushroom, and the dragonling Ye Meng stopped practicing water magic.
“That’s Xiao Xu!” Grandma Li exclaimed. “He’s so deceptive.”
“I’ve heard the dragons talk about the Black Forest! In a few months, I can fly there,” the Dragonling said eagerly. “I’ll take you to see it.”
Nearby, in the Red Mist Valley, in the Banshee’s embrace, the little ghost girl reached out to the familiar pattern.
“Mommy, mommy,” she mumbled. “Home, home!”
“Okay, daddy and mommy will take you home.”
At the entrance of the Lost Tower, Anakin looked confusedly at the announcement window, then at Nol’s retreating figure. No wonder their contract didn’t have a clause about “keeping the identity of Succubus Malvina a secret”. This guy had just used a world-wide speaker!
However, no matter who Nol might be, this tower was undoubtedly a new force in the world. Since the stance of the Temple of Life was unclear, perhaps they could… make the first move due to proximity*?
*The water tower that’s first to catch the moon (近水楼台先得月) Idiom referring to someone who has an advantage due to their proximity or relationship to a particular situation or resource (AKA first come first serve).
……
“Wow.” After hearing Nol’s declaration, Billy exclaimed with great enthusiasm. “I never thought that just doing a job could witness history. Brother Eugene, do we still need to compensate you? I’ve never seen such a flamboyant announcement from any faction. This trip was worth it for you.”
Eugene sighed silently.
Merchants sure had big mouths. This tower and this bloody battle would soon spread to every corner of the continent. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Temple could no longer use the claim that “monsters are creations of the Eternal Church”.
However, the master of this tower did leave some leeway. As soon as the trading declaration was made, it deepened the Players’ impression that “the world is a game”. In this way, Players wouldn’t fall into chaos, and the Temple wouldn’t need to take extreme measures for now.
Perhaps, this was also the result that the Master of Paradise wanted.
Considering the current attitude of Paradise towards the Eternal Church, the Temple could use this weapon for the time being. However, they claimed to be enemies with the Demon King. Who knows how sincere they were… Well, at least he knew now who the Mad Monk was loyal to. Time would tell, and the Goddess would surely guide him.
“Let’s go,” Knight Eugene ordered.
His deputy took a deep breath and said, “But what about those who are bewitched…”
“Those brothers simply had their life force drained by the succubi. If ‘Paradise’ doesn’t intend to be our enemy, they will return on their own.” Eugene turned his horse around and spoke with a prayer-like calmness. “Of course, if they don’t return… it would be their greatest honor to sacrifice themselves in order to see the true enemies of the Goddess.”
“Hey, do you still want compensation for the Temple? Don’t wait too long!” Billy shouted behind him.
“Someone will deliver a personal letter from the Archbishop,” Eugene responded without looking back.
As for the Eternal Church… There weren’t many people left to evacuate. Relying on the effect of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, Teest happily exterminated the remaining forces on the battlefield. Nearby, there were still some Nightmares that escaped, and the sound of coins jingling non-stop filled his ears.
Teest’s gaze was unwavering, as if these sounds were creating a cocoon in his ears.
He was just looking at Nol.
That mysterious emblem had disappeared, but Nol was still standing in the same spot. His face was hidden under his cloak, and Teest couldn’t see his eyes, which made him unhappy.
The audience gradually left, and he had to quickly strip off that cloak.
So, Teest’s hunting became even faster.
His ankles were soaked in mud saturated with fresh blood, and his feet and calves were covered in blood, as if he was wearing a pair of slippery boots. There were wriggling tentacles and blood-covered branches all around him. The sunset poured down like a bloody waterfall, warming everything. It all smelled like the divine kingdom he was expecting.
During the process of jumping up following the golden thread, Teest saw Crimson.
He immediately recognized this former opponent. Crimson was stepping on the seriously injured Solo, looking intently at the Lost Tower. Anakin was hiding in the corner, quietly concentrating on casting a spell, trying to knock him down from her height.
Of course, Teest knew her intentions. All cautious and kind-hearted people would think the same—perhaps Crimson saw or heard something and wanted to bring back this precious information to the Eternal Church.
So, they should imprison him, sink him into the blood marsh, and keep the Eternal Church in the dark about it.
How could that be? …These pathetic outsiders didn’t understand the charm of chaos at all.
No one would buy a product whose effects they couldn’t see. The power depicted by a mere adjective might not be taken seriously by the Demons of the Eternal Church.
Teest liked today’s view. He wanted them all to know and then come knocking on his door like flies attracted to flesh.
Teest hugged the shadow wolf’s neck, and a golden thread silently shot out.
He didn’t hide it much, so Crimson naturally detected the killing intent. He leaped off the tentacle in the air, tore something apart, and in the next instant, his figure dispersed in the wind.
Teest then jumped onto the edge of the Lost Tower. He leaped off the wolf’s back, leaving two bloody footprints on the shattered bricks.
“You let Crimson go,” Nol said in a matter-of-fact tone before Teest could speak.
“There needs to be someone to report back, and he just so happens to be the one who can’t die.” Teest looked at the annoying hood on Nol’s head and twitched his finger. “Honey, do we really need to discuss this now?”
Despite the shadow covering him, Teest could sense Nol’s gaze. It swept over his eyes, lips, and hair tips, stopped on his blood-stained calves, and then returned to his eyes.
“Forget it,” Nol said in an almost resigned tone.
Teest smiled.
……
Nol didn’t act according to Teest’s wishes. He still wore his hood tightly.
He waved his staff and jumped onto the silently spread tentacles below. The skeleton dragon caught him and took him to the group of succubi not far away. More precisely, he was flying towards Enbillick Alva, who was near the succubi.
Teest smirked, riding the shadow wolf behind him.
Eugene left, Crimson left, and the Eternalists and Nightmares also left… In the world, only “Golden Sword” Billy was waiting nearby, seemingly indicating, “If you don’t come, I won’t leave.”
With such a group of mercenaries guarding here, the succubi didn’t want to carelessly expose their backs. So, they nervously stayed put and even more nervously sped up their feeding.
Nol confidently lit the black candle, allowing the skeleton dragon to lower its altitude just enough to be at eye level with Billy, who was on horseback.
“Thank you for your assistance,” Nol said, removing a bit of flesh from his vocal cords, making him sound slightly different. “Paradise will always remember the contribution of the Alva Merchant Group.”
“You’re too kind. We just do our job for payment and don’t expect more.”
Unlike when he was dealing with Eugene, Billy now seemed particularly polite. He was only missing a tuxedo and a glass of champagne. “It’s an honor to witness this important moment, sir.”
If you’re not expecting more, why didn’t you leave earlier? Teest gave an undisguised sneer.
Billy pretended not to hear. “Mr. Decoste is an important client of our merchant group. I need to make sure his commission is perfectly executed—look, this group of weak succubi actually entered the battlefield. I’m curious about your next arrangement.”
As he spoke, his ash-gray eyes fixed on Nol, but he didn’t touch the sword by his side.
Nol looked at the bushes not far away. Investigation Knights were scattered around, lying unconscious with a pallid complexion. The succubi paused their feeding and were uniformly looking over.
So, Nol simply raised his staff, and another covenant floated into the sky.
“Until these succubi voluntarily leave, I’ll do my best to ensure their safety. This is my sincerity,” Nol said. “Now your commission officially ends, Mr. Alva.”
The succubi remained silent, but Billy’s laughter echoed through the woods.
“You’re truly thoughtful!”
He continued, smiling teasingly, “Let me make a bold guess. Among these succubi are companions ‘chosen by Paradise’? So, can we consider that our merchant group has safely guarded your compatriots?”
“Therefore, you will also receive a generous reward,” Nol replied seriously. “From this moment, Mr. Decoste’s assets belong entirely to the Alva Merchant Group. I’ve saved you the trouble of subsequent investigations and verifications.”
“If you want a reward more valuable than that property, you’ll have to wait for the next escort.”
“Hahaha, very fair!” Billy laughed, holding the reins, unable to hide his amusement. “You’re an interesting gentleman. I believe we’ll meet again.”
“Hold on.”
Nol glanced at the group of succubi and stopped Billy, who was about to leave. “Now that Mr. Decoste’s commission has officially ended, I think these succubi have the right to know the details.”
Billy looked somewhat surprised, sizing up Nol. “Even after over 150 years?”
“Even after over 150 years.” Just like the succubi, he also needed to know the conclusion.
Billy glanced at the succubi not far away and shrugged.
“Mr. Decoste, at the age of 43, entered into a political marriage with a lady from the Alva family. He was quite an outstanding gentleman, very talented in business. Within the Alva family, he had a good reputation. For a political marriage, Mr. Decoste was an ideal husband and father—he never restricted his wife’s emotional life, and their children became very successful businessmen.”
“As for his decision to donate all his personal assets before his death, his wife and children were aware and didn’t object, though they were somewhat surprised. After so many years, everyone thought he had forgotten about it.”
Billy recounted casually.
“Mr. Decoste asked that after the dream magic shatters, the merchant group should help the Black Forest tribe. I must say, this gentleman was quite visionary. Over these years, we thought these succubi had disappeared long ago.”
“Was Decoste so sure?” Nol asked quietly.
“Yes,” Billy said. “Who knows what he was thinking. His commission didn’t even mention a situation where ‘the succubi would become extinct when the magic disappears’. It was whimsical.”
Under the shadow of the hood, Nol closed his eyes. “…Thank you for letting me know.”
……
This time, the succubus tribe obediently returned to the tower. It was evident they had eaten well. Even though their size remained the same, their skin had a touch of gloss, making them look less like corpses.
The Investigation Knights were left behind, and Nol only cast a few protective spells without bothering to awaken them. He immediately returned to the Lost Tower to treat the succubus queen. If the queen really passed away during the war, it would be serious. Nol didn’t actually want to be the consort of the succubus tribe.
The queen was helped by Nol into a soft armchair, her head hanging as if she was unconscious.
Anakin silently stood by the side of the armchair, assisting Nol in treating her. Solo, being seriously injured, let himself fall unconscious, allowing the succubi to drain his life force to give the queen an “indirect transfusion”.
For a while, the tower was incredibly quiet… and awkward.
Now, Nol felt indifferent about it. His previous treatment of the succubus tribe was like dealing with stray animals in bad condition—first forcibly caging them, then treating and feeding them. Resistance was expected, and the succubi adapted quickly.
He focused on casting healing spells, ignoring the emotionally charged silence.
“I don’t understand.”
Finally, Succubus Doni broke the silence. His tone was no longer rigid. It sounded like a student asking a teacher a question, with a touch of gentleness.
“Why didn’t Queen Hiya announce this from the beginning? If everyone knew about the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ situation, people wouldn’t guess it’s a curse…”
A succubus was initiating communication! Nol’s eyes lit up. Turning his head quickly, he saw Uncle Ma in the corner, opening his mouth.
“What’s there to ask?” Uncle Ma sat alone next to a potted plant, looking at the sky at the top of the tower. “It’s better to not say. If it’s seen as a curse, it’s still better.”
Doni, clearly not expecting the mad knight to intervene, raised his voice. “What do you mean?”
“If the truth is hidden, at most, people will suspect Queen Hiya. The subsequent queens are the victims. If the truth was known, some might feel the queens weren’t strong enough… They would be replaced more frequently.”
Uncle Ma’s tone became particularly… strange, as if he were trying to stab at something.
“Even knowing the effect of the ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, you treat it as a minor thing. And you keep asking.”
“Malvina, it’s rude to interrupt.” Doni frowned. “And as a knight of the queen, you didn’t voice such opinions before.”
“Because I just realized it recently. Isn’t that okay?”
Uncle Ma continued gazing at the blue sky above, as if there was some cosmic truth in it.
“Because of ‘such a small thing’, so many queens have died. I have to accept that.”
His throat sounded dry. “Admitting it isn’t a big deal—some things, even when said, most people just can’t understand. I can’t understand, couldn’t in the past, and won’t in the future.”
“But I should’ve protected her properly. Even if I couldn’t understand, I could’ve protected her. She had no Decoste—not even a proper knight.”
‘Uncle Ma might not be referring to the unconscious current queen,’ Nol thought.
Hiya once said, don’t go alone. Maybe at this moment, Uncle Ma was getting closer to the person he wanted to understand.
At this moment, the eyelashes of the succubus queen on the armchair fluttered. Nol was pleased and instinctively looked around—
The first floor of the Lost Tower was packed with succubi, Players, and a reflective neighbor. Only Teest was missing.
“Anakin, you handle the explanation from here.” Nol directly stopped his healing magic.
Ying Feng had a habit of waking up on the hour, but just as he sat up, he remembered that there was another person beside him who relied on him to maintain sleep during a critical period of bonding. As expected, when he turned his head, the person on the bed was already rubbing his eyes awake, with a look on his face that clearly said he hadn’t had enough sleep.
He recalled reading that a Qizi, during special periods, needed 1.5 times their usual amount of sleep. Lack of sleep was the leading cause of mental strain. However, the fact that a Qizi couldn’t sleep without their Qizhu nearby conflicted with Ying Feng’s regular routine. Using saliva-induced hypnosis was indeed effective, but its duration was too short.
While Ying Feng was seriously considering how to resolve this contradiction, Ling Xiao seemed unbothered. He jumped out of bed and quickly occupied the bathroom. By the time he came out again, he was refreshed and looked entirely different from when he had just woken up.
Seeing him so energetic, Ying Feng felt he might be overthinking things. By the time Ying Feng was ready to leave, Ling Xiao was already nowhere to be found in the dormitory.
Ying Feng’s instinctive reaction was to use his mental connection to search for him. However, the terms of their exchange from the previous day timely intervened, preventing him from doing so. As a result, he quietly retracted his mental probe without a fuss.
Ying Feng didn’t see Ling Xiao in the cafeteria, so he headed straight to the playground for his second stop. Sure enough, as he had suspected, the person who had gone out for a run early in the morning was jogging on the empty track, completely unaware of his vulnerable state. Without thinking, Ying Feng approached and stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
Unsure of what he had done to upset Ying Feng again, Ling Xiao replied, “Morning run.”
“Doctor Yao said you’re on mandatory leave.”
“Doesn’t leave allow for physical exercise? I’m preparing for military school admission. I have to start now. My competitors are strong Qizhus. How could I possibly compete without putting in effort?”
“Weren’t you the one who fainted a few days ago?”
“I was tired and hungry at the time, drained of energy. Now that I’ve eaten and rested, why can’t I run?” Ling Xiao didn’t understand why Ying Feng was making such a fuss. It seemed as if Ying Feng, who had previously been indifferent, was now overly concerned.
“One doesn’t train without breaks. The books say you need ample rest during this period; otherwise, your mental state will suffer. Finish your meal and head back,” Ying Feng said curtly.
“I had enough rest last night,” Ling Xiao retorted, displeased. “I’m not a pig that just eats and sleeps.”
“Are you going back or not?”
“No.”
After Ling Xiao spoke, his fingertips tingled. Over the past few days, he had come to recognize this as a sign of an incoming command from the Qizhu. He tried to speak, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate. He could only glare angrily at Ying Feng, who was being contradictory.
Ying Feng’s power merely made a brief appearance before halting. The air between the two solidified, and time ticked away. The newly built trenches of mutual understanding between them were on the verge of collapsing at any moment. The fragile agreement would shatter with just a single step forward.
Just when Ling Xiao thought he would be forced back to his dormitory, the mental control that had swelled within him receded like a tide. At the crucial moment, Ying Feng refrained from taking action, allowing the tense atmosphere to finally dissipate.
Ying Feng stepped aside. “Run then.”
To Ling Xiao’s surprise, Ying Feng was the one making the concession. He resumed jogging suspiciously. Ying Feng maintained a steady pace behind him, neither speeding up nor slowing down.
During this morning run, Ling Xiao felt completely uneasy. Ying Feng was not far behind him, with a watchful gaze fixed on him. It felt like a thorn in his back, and after being observed for such a long time, even his steps became erratic.
Eventually, Ling Xiao couldn’t continue, not even achieving half of his intended goal. Without using the power of the Qizhu, Ying Feng’s mere gaze and following tactic had forced Ling Xiao to concede, filling him with a sense of defeat.
“Okay, I’m done. You don’t have to follow me anymore,” Ling Xiao said impatiently.
“Where will you go next?” Ying Feng asked calmly.
“Train…” Before Ling Xiao could finish, he saw Ying Feng’s reaction and realized that his plan to visit the training hall would probably be thwarted. Even if Ying Feng didn’t stop him, all Ying Feng would have to do is sit down expressionlessly, and soon enough, Ling Xiao would admit defeat.
Forget it. Ling Xiao felt as if he was cursed. He regretted ever discussing joint plans with Ying Feng, who, once he set a goal, would resolutely see it through. So, Ling Xiao bit back his words and instead asked, “Where are you going?”
“The library.”
Ling Xiao was taken aback. If not for their accidental pact, he would never have known Ying Feng was such a studious person. But remembering how Ying Feng self-taught system operations to retrieve data from an outdated computer, this didn’t seem so surprising.
“I’ll go too,” he said, regretting it immediately, recalling the library’s boring ambiance. Yet, Ying Feng seemed pleased with this response. This way, he could do his own thing and also keep an eye on Ling Xiao.
With a gloomy face, Ling Xiao followed Ying Feng to the library. Ying Feng hadn’t finished the book he borrowed before, but during his reading, new questions arose, leading him back to the social sciences shelf. Bored, Ling Xiao amused himself with the touchscreen in the academy’s archive display area.
Every batch of students from Bikong had a record stored in the database. Ling Xiao clicked on their batch, and familiar photos appeared before his eyes. Since they enrolled on the same day, his photo was next to Ying Feng’s. After a few more photos, there was Lan Sheng’s. Ping Zong enrolled the latest, and his picture was different from the others. It was a black and white photo encased in a black frame, standing out remarkably among rows of colored photos.
A weight settled uncontrollably in Ling Xiao’s heart. After closing that page, he randomly selected a previous batch and, sure enough, saw two more photos framed in black. It seemed the principal was right; no matter how they tried to avoid it, tragedy would occur.
Suddenly, he remembered something and rushed to find Ying Feng in the humanities section. “Do you remember the Ash Event we studied in history class?”
“Yes.”
“When did it happen?”
Without hesitation, Ying Feng replied, “3926. Why do you ask?”
Getting his answer, Ling Xiao disappeared in a flash. Ying Feng, curious about his actions, followed.
If the incident happened in 3926, it meant the enrollment time of this batch of students would have been pushed back at least ten years. Ling Xiao tried clicking on the student archives of 3916. Displayed on the screen were dozens of black and white photos framed in black, a sight so haunting it was hard to believe.
“What is this…?” Ying Feng probably guessed the meaning of the black frames but didn’t understand the context.
“These are the student photos from the year of the Ash Event,” Ling Xiao said. Although the number of casualties was mentioned in their history classes, seeing the photos stirred a different emotion than just hearing a number.
“So only a little over half survived, which means…” Ling Xiao’s eyes sparkled, while his hands continuously scrolled down. “All the Qizis who were defeated in the coming-of-age ceremony died…”
Realizing this horrifying conclusion, he felt a chill in his heart.
“Wait.” Ying Feng suddenly held his hand.
Ling Xiao stopped too because among the survivors, he saw a familiar photo. Upon first glance, he felt a strange sensation.
“Ling…Xing?” Ling Xiao whispered the name. “The one who woke up in the same energy chamber as me, was from that batch too.”
Ying Feng’s hand remained motionless. Even Ling Xiao found it strange. Turning to look, he saw Ying Feng staring at the person in the photo with an indescribable sadness.
Ling Xiao was stunned. The mighty Ying Feng, whom he thought was unshakeable, was displaying such profound sorrow. Without any tears or frowns, the deep pain was hidden beneath a calm facade. More than seeing it, Ling Xiao felt it, perhaps due to the bond between a Qizhu and a Qizi. The emotions flowed into Ling Xiao, disrupting his tranquility.
After what felt like an eternity, Ying Feng snapped out of his trance, realizing he was still holding Ling Xiao’s hand. Though they had shared a bed, kissed, and made love, this unintentional touch made them more embarrassed than any of those intimate moments. They both awkwardly pulled away, each looking in opposite directions, searching for an excuse.
“I was shocked by the number of deaths.” Ying Feng spoke first.
“Me too,” Ling Xiao immediately replied.
“No wonder the academy mourns with bells every year.”
“Yeah.”
Their dialogue was superficial, merely covering up their true feelings.
“I’m heading back to the dorm.” Ling Xiao felt that the library wasn’t a suitable place for him anymore.
This time, Ying Feng didn’t stop him. “Alright.”
Ling Xiao practically fled from the library, mulling over the distressing information he’d uncovered, feeling the library had cast a shadow cast over his heart.
Once his emotions stabilized, the exhaustion from the morning exercise began demanding its toll. Ling Xiao randomly picked up one of Ying Feng’s books, and after reading a few lines, he felt sleepy.
When Ying Feng returned from the library, he saw Ling Xiao leaning against the bedhead, holding a hefty theoretical book. He had already fallen asleep, without even having turned the first page. His head wobbled, suddenly dropping down, startling him awake before drooping again, swaying side to side.
Ying Feng sat down next to him, placing the borrowed book on his left side. The noise seemed to have startled Ling Xiao, who struggled to barely open his eyes. Ying Feng’s silhouette vaguely appeared in his field of vision.
Then Ying Feng, without saying a word, slapped the bed next to him with his right hand. As if he had received a command, Ling Xiao, with sleepy eyes, immediately leaned over. The moment his body touched Ying Feng, he fell asleep in the next second. The speed at which he fell asleep was so astonishing that even Ying Feng found it eerie, considering it was just noon. Just how exhausted had he been before?
Ling Xiao slept for two hours, and when he woke up, Ying Feng was still reading beside him. Knowing that Ying Feng stayed because of him made Ling Xiao feel a bit awkward.
“Still doing your morning exercises?” Ying Feng teased him upon seeing him awake.
Ling Xiao played dumb and stayed silent.
“There are only three days left; just stay put.”
“I’ll get bored to death,” Ling Xiao protested.
“If you’re bored, watch TV.”
Ying Feng turned on the TV, and there was a breaking news segment.
“…Recently, a national archaeological team discovered two gigantic stone statues near the Great Rift in the southern hemisphere. The statues, one male and one female, have severely damaged faces due to their age. Archaeologists used computers for virtual restoration. Experts believe these two figures might be the ancestors of the Tianxiu People described in historical texts…”
At first, Ling Xiao watched listlessly, but as the restored image appeared on the screen, he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. Eventually, he moved closer to get a better look.
“What are you doing?” Ying Feng was puzzled at Ling Xiao’s unusual behavior while watching TV.
“This person; I recognize this person,” Ling Xiao said, pointing to the male figure. A name was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t recall it.
“That’s an ancient person, and you recognize him?” Ying Feng was skeptical.
“Xing, Xing,” Ling Xiao remembered. “Xing Lou!”
Yes, it was him. Even though the image was of a grown man, the facial features matched the youthful appearance of someone he had seen before. It was clearly the same person at different ages.
“Xing Lou?” Ying Feng furrowed his brow at this unfamiliar name.
“Xing Lou!”
Xing Lou sat up, panting heavily.
“Are you alright?” Yue Ying’s voice was filled with concern. “You stopped breathing for a long time.”
Xing Lou waved his hand, taking a while before he could speak. “Even though we technically can travel through time, the further we go from this time point, the more it feels like the soul is being torn apart. It’s too painful to continue.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself. It sounds too absurd to try to change network time to reach another dimension of that time,” Yue Ying remarked.
Xing Lou shook his head. “When I first developed this function, I could only send myself back one minute. After several lifetimes of effort, I can now go back several years. I believe that if I keep going, I can change history and revive your people.”
Yue Ying chuckled bitterly. “I’m the only one left of my kind. What’s the point of revival?”
“No, it’s possible,” Xing Lou began, but then a connection request interrupted him.
He accepted, and Tai Yin’s projection appeared in the center of the room.
“I have good news.” Tai Yin got straight to the point. “We’ve successfully matched the blood type you need.”
Xing Lou’s eyes sparkled with hope. “Really?”
Tai Yin activated the device beside him, and a transparent half-figure appeared in the air.
“He’s the one you’re looking for. On this planet, he’s the only one with a genetic match to Yue Ying and the only one who can awaken him.”
Xing Lou stood up, walking step by step towards the figure, his eyes shining brighter with each step. It seemed like the person in front of him was already within his grasp.
Shi Jingzhi had thoroughly examined the head inside and out and then passed it on to Chigou. Upon receiving the head of an old acquaintance, Hua Jingchun didn’t know how to handle it.
She had known Wu Huai since they were young and always held a deep admiration for the Chigou sect. Relying on his talents, Wu Huai joined the Immortal Assembly in his youth, leaving for Yidu, never to return. Initially, he wrote letters to her, but gradually, even those stopped coming.
Passion could fade, and youth was fleeting. Perhaps Wu Huai saw a vast world and lost interest in the barren northwest and the tomb robbing sect.
Yidu was dazzling, and if Wu Huai didn’t want to return to Shafu, he didn’t. Hua Jingchun wasn’t particularly surprised, nor did she inquire further.
She always acted decisively, never dwelling on sentimentalities. It wasn’t until the “Young Patriarch” appeared that she once again saw Wu Huai’s familiar yet estranged face.
She was now in her forties, but his appearance seemed to have stopped aging. The only proof of their past connection was the little “compassion” Wu Huai showed—he didn’t kill her on the spot but instead threw her down the Three Provinces Cliff.
Apart from that, she saw only a proud and cold stranger.
The Immortal Assembly always maintained a gentle public image, and Wu Huai wasn’t someone who simply followed others. Two decades had passed, and the changes in the opposition shocked Hua Jingchun. Being targeted by such an organization, had Chigou really escaped disaster?
In the end, she agreed to the Kushan Sect’s proposal, proposing a martial arts conference in the name of Chigou. The Chigou sect was a demonic sect and didn’t need to participate. According to Yin Ci’s words, the conference would divert the Immortal Assembly’s attention, giving Chigou some peace.
The Kushan Sect still held their Young Patriarch hostage, and Hua Jingchun saw no reason to refuse. As per the agreement, Chigou just needed to give their verbal commitment…
…How strange!
“Sect Master Shi, our proposal for the martial arts conference has been made, and the response has been good.”
Hua Jingchun said patiently, craning her neck.
“Many sects have suffered mysterious misfortunes. They all seek balance and will want to make a final stand. In this situation, in a few days, balance must be restored. So…”
Shi Jingzhi peeked out. “So?”
“So, we’re even! Even though our sect robs tombs, we have our limits!” Hua Jingchun held the head, almost in tears. “This is unacceptable!”
Shi Jingzhi smiled brilliantly, retreating back into the shadows.
This wasn’t the Kushan Sect; it was more like a den of foxes. Both the master and disciple were both deceitful, and Hua Jingchun regretted her choices.
A few days ago, the news of the martial arts conference was released. Just when Hua Jingchun wanted to discuss the matter of Su Si, Shi Jingzhi made another request.
[Sister Hua, I’d like to visit the temple in Shafu City. You have good relations with the officials of Shafu, right? Can you arrange for the temple to be closed for a day, saying Chigou wants to worship the Imperial Celestial?]
The Chigou sect, always dealing with tombs, cared deeply about the spirits. Previously, they had closed temples for worship, and given their recent tribulations, a session of worship seemed appropriate. Including the Kushan Sect wasn’t a problem.
She readily agreed then, but now deeply regretted it.
They gave the Kushan Sect three hours. Hua Jingchun initially thought the Kushan Sect might be looking for clues in the temple. But to her surprise, the duo brought tools and went directly to the celestial’s statue, tinkering behind it.
The clinking sound irritated Hua Jingchun. Fortunately, the Chigou sect was a demonic sect, allowing her to suppress the urge to expose the two. All she could do was hold her head, wanting to cry without tears.
She had intended to make some wishes in front of the celestial, hoping for Wu Huai’s peaceful passage without haunting Chigou. But now, she felt that the Imperial Celestial was incredibly merciful for not punishing them on the spot. She just hoped that when divine retribution struck the master and disciple, it would be accurate and not harm the Chigou sect.
Had Protector Hua seen what was behind the celestial, she probably wouldn’t have been able to stay in the temple.
Yin Ci patted Shi Jingzhi’s back. “Be careful, don’t really scare her.”
“No worries, she can’t see.” Shi Jingzhi crouched even lower, the silver knife in his hand gleaming. “Three hours is a bit tight; we need to be quick.”
After the martial arts conference, they would inevitably confront the Immortal Assembly. By then, they’d have no chance to get close to the flesh idol, so they decided to take advantage of Chigou’s reputation to examine it.
Removing a large shell according to the pattern, they indeed saw the flesh idol inside. This one looked fresher than the one in Yongsheng Temple. The eyes in the flesh moved quickly and shed tears as soon as they saw the two.
Shi Jingzhi gently peeled off layers of meat paste, occasionally packing a portion. As the idol slowly healed, Yin Ci controlled its shape with his sword qi, ensuring that Shi Jingzhi could peel deeper and deeper. The statue was massive, and as Shi Jingzhi delved deeper, separating the meat became increasingly difficult. Sweat formed on Shi Jingzhi’s forehead. He didn’t have time to wipe it, and many sweat droplets crossed his eyelashes and seeped into his eyes.
Just as Shi Jingzhi was about to blink to relieve himself, Yin Ci freed a hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
“Thank you.” Shi Jingzhi sighed with relief. “How much longer?”
“Half an hour.”
“I’ve almost reached the innermost part. Do you still have that strange feeling?”
Yin Ci paused for a moment, then said firmly, “It’s even stronger than before.”
“I’ve probably noted the way the meat is layered. Remember the giant tree root statue in the forbidden area? The structure of this flesh idol matches the tree root’s direction completely. It must be a ‘blueprint’ for those who shape the statue.”
Shi Jingzhi’s eyes were fixed on the incision of the flesh idol, and he continued to cut further inside.
Yin Zizhu was a mortal, and this meat paste was once human too. Both had touched “immortality”, though under very different circumstances. Yin Ci felt an indescribable familiarity with these flesh idols, and it wasn’t for no reason. Since the flesh idol was man-made, he was sure he could find its flaws.
Hiss.
A soft sound echoed as Shi Jingzhi’s blade touched something.
Surprisingly, a piece of white cloth with blood characters appeared amongst the layers of flesh. The white cloth, soaked with blood, blended with the dark red meat, only faintly showing its original color. Positioned at the core of the flesh idol, the cloth covered something relatively solid. Thick layers of meat and bones intertwined around it, protecting whatever was behind the cloth.
That must be the flesh idol’s “core”.
After a brief search, Shi Jingzhi chose a protrusion with fewer obstructing bones. Despite the fatigue in his wrist, he delicately lifted the cloth, treating it as gently as a fragile bud.
What lay beneath the cloth felt slightly stiff, perhaps hiding the secret of the flesh idol’s undying nature.
The answer was right in front of him, and Shi Jingzhi felt a bit emotional. Back in the forbidden area, the two were busy being wary of each other, and their main focus was on the Shirou. They had let the flesh idol burnt beyond recognition, which was a regrettable incident.
…Fortunately, it wasn’t too late.
Shi Jingzhi didn’t damage the cloth with the blood characters. Taking a deep breath, he skillfully located a seam with his silver knife and finally unfolded the cloth—
Half of a pale hand was revealed.
The hand was slender and beautiful, with an extremely fair complexion, showing no signs of decay. Amidst the writhing meat paste, this hand gave him chills.
He had seen this hand before. He had kissed it. This hand had once shielded him when he was young and had given him the most comforting embrace.
…He would never mistake it. It was Yin Ci’s hand.
Before he could process it, the malicious truth pierced his heart. Shi Jingzhi’s hand trembled, and he almost dropped the silver knife.
Yin Ci, standing beside him, couldn’t see what was inside the incision. Thinking that Shi Jingzhi was exhausted, he was about to comfort him when Shi Jingzhi turned his head, his eyes filled with horror.
“I know…”
Shi Jingzhi licked his dry lips, his voice shaky. He tried to start on a gentle note but couldn’t find any clean words amidst the bloodshed.
“I know why He Cheng’an kept beheading you. This meat statue isn’t your kind. Its core is made of ‘you’.”
He said, almost in despair.
Yin Ci didn’t immediately grasp the situation. He looked blankly at Shi Jingzhi for a moment, intending to see for himself, but was stopped by Shi Jingzhi’s hand.
Shi Jingzhi’s voice was hoarse. “Your body is inside. Lately, you… you’ve been unstable; it’s best not to look.”
After saying that, Shi Jingzhi carefully restored the layers of meat and cloth. He stood in front of the incision, waiting for it to heal. Yin Ci didn’t push him away but stood silently, obviously waiting for him to continue.
Shi Jingzhi stood there as if in a trance, piecing together fragments of information.
The earliest temple of the Imperial Celestial was in Yidu, created by the first Imperial Preceptor. Over the centuries, only a dozen temples were added.
The complexity of the meat statues indicated that they weren’t successful right away. The earliest temples probably used Yin Ci’s body as material, as an experimental ground. Yin Ci’s body was limited, so the Imperial Preceptors didn’t waste much, so the statues were built conservatively.
Two hundred years ago, the temples of the Imperial Celestial appeared on a large scale.
That was during the era of the Queen of Milan. They had witnessed similar events in that era. The Queen of Milan’s Arcane Arts was based on one person as the core, and the others as flesh. Although the “composition” wasn’t pure, it could also absorb vital qi and ensure its immortality.
However, the Arcane Arts carried the fragmented remains of ancient corpses. Initially, Shi Jingzhi only felt that the two seemed similar, without delving deeper into the matter. Reflecting on it now, in the grand scheme of things, they were never far from the truth.
[The corpse is completely dead, with no connected meridians. Vital qi cannot flow. How can it be resurrected? To channel the vital qi, we need a continuous piece of living flesh.]
Chen Qianfan’s voice echoed again in his mind.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Shi Jingzhi bitterly said, “I have a speculation…”
“Inspired by the Queen of Milan’s Arcane Arts, the Immortal Assembly began manufacturing these flesh idols.” Yin Ci spoke first; his voice was still calm. “Using my headless corpse as the ‘core’ and cultivating ordinary monster materials for flesh, they can mold thousands of idols.”
“Also, the structure of the flesh idols is identical to the giant tree root idol. And that structure is identical to your ‘true self’. They were molded in your likeness. They are your…” Shi Jingzhi couldn’t continue.
Yin Ci placed a hand on a flesh idol, staring at the eyes within the fleshy mud. He wasn’t sure if there was any consciousness behind those eyes or if his voice could be heard.
After a deep sigh, Yin Ci finally said what neither wanted to voice.
“They are my ‘replicas’.”
When he said this, Yin Ci felt as if his heart stopped.
He had previously speculated about the immortality of these flesh idols. In his speculations, he thought he was one of them, maybe a highly successful “finished product”.
But he was the first—the original “flesh idol”.
This wasn’t an overnight endeavor. Someone knew of his “true self” and used it to create the tree root idols, which were then replicated. Others researched the Queen of Milan’s techniques, using his corpse as the “core”. Yet others cultivated villages like “Yuanxian Village” for their flesh and labor.
This wasn’t the work of a single moment or individual. It would take at least a century of accumulation. The Imperial Preceptors expended such effort not just for novelty. Why flood the nation with these crude replicas?
…Perhaps he knew the answer.
Yin Ci approached Shi Jingzhi, cupping his face to steady his head.
The sweat still glistened on Shi Jingzhi’s face, and Yin Ci could feel the heat radiating from him. Without words, Shi Jingzhi seemed to understand, his eyes shifting from fear to sorrow.
However, Yin Ci spoke.
“The Arcane Arts remain active by constantly absorbing vital qi. In the barren north, it can sustain itself for centuries by consuming some monsters.”
Flesh idols were semi-living, even more sophisticated than the Arcane Arts, and definitely more powerful.
“A’Ci…”
“The flesh idols don’t need to fight or move. They are placed in the most prosperous cities, with worshippers constantly coming. The vital qi they absorb is clearly excessive, and this excess must have a purpose.”
Creatures with excessive vital qi were monster material, occasionally found in nature. The monster materials in Yuanxian Village weren’t exceptional, but their quantity was unusually high. If one intentionally increased the vital qi, one could artificially produce monster materials…
What could be achieved by gathering the vital qi of the entire nation?
“Zizhu, stop.” Shi Jingzhi tried to retreat, but Yin Ci held his head firmly.
“How did I not think of it earlier? I’ve met the only child of Xu Li, and he’s definitely not a Child of Desire. Previous generations of Child of Desire weren’t outstanding, so much so that the Queen of Milan from two centuries ago was the first to become famous. It was only when temples were everywhere that the Child of Desire began to flourish—interestingly, I even killed one of them.”
That Imperial Preceptor never revealed the truth to the Queen of Milan.
Yin Ci’s voice grew softer.
“After all, how can a person have thousands of desires out of nowhere? It’s merely the worshippers’ desires channeled into the vital qi. When you’re born from such vital qi, it’s natural to be of such a nature.”
“…” Shi Jingzhi remained silent, looking intently at Yin Ci as his amber eyes moistened.
The two stood behind the idol. The space here was narrow, as if only the two of them existed between heaven and earth. The air was filled with solemn incense, and they were surrounded by the grotesque, writhing mud.
If this scene were a dream, how wonderful it would be.
Shi Jingzhi searched his heart and soul, trying to find words to refute Yin Ci and deny this terrifying speculation. Unfortunately, Yin Ci’s theoretical reasoning was sound, and he could find no flaws.
Yin Ci’s hypothesis was likely correct.
He carried the blood of Yin Ci’s enemies and blossomed from Yin Ci’s remains.
Even for the great general Yin Zizhu, there must be a limit to resentment. Shi Jingzhi wasn’t particularly guilty, but his heart pounded painfully in his chest. Overwhelmed by deep pity, he didn’t have the time to ponder the conspiracy. His heart wavered—should he now beg “Please don’t vent your anger on me”, or should he let Yin Ci vent his frustrations fully?
Shi Jingzhi couldn’t find an answer. So he simply closed his eyes, adopting a “do with me as you please” demeanor.
Unexpectedly, he didn’t encounter the rage of Yin Ci, not even a suppressed angry breath. After a brief silence, something warm and soft touched his lips, and a slightly warm tongue teased its way through his teeth.
It was a kiss, intense but brief. After the intimate moment, Yin Ci finally let go of Sect Master Shi’s head.
“I won,” he whispered.
Shi Jingzhi: “…?”
“Back on Huilian Mountain, we had a bet. If I uncovered the cause of your ailment first, you’d grant me a request.”
“Huh?” Sect Master Shi, having just experienced a whirlwind of emotions, was somewhat dazed.
Yin Ci’s face held not a hint of resentment; his usual nonchalant look prevailed. “What do you mean ‘huh’? There are limits to everything. Even a Child of Desire is mortal. When filled with so much vital qi, how could they have a long life? Your meridians are likely being torn by the excessive vital qi.”
“…Well, I won. I’ll ask for my reward first,” He emphasized again.
Shi Jingzhi touched his chest, still not fully recovered. “Aren’t you resentful of me?”
At that moment, he even forgot about the cause of his illness.
Considering that Hua Jingchun was still in the shrine, Yin Ci held back his laughter. “What nonsense. If I held a grudge over every causality, the Yun Dynasty would’ve been wiped out by me. Meeting you is a blessing.”
Otherwise, he might never have known the truth.
“The ‘results’ accumulated by the Immortal Assembly over the centuries are mine. The most promising descendants of the Xu and Sun families are mine. Is there anything more wonderful in the world?”
Hearing this familiar rhetorical question, Shi Jingzhi was stunned for a long while. Yin Ci looked at him with a smile, just like before he knew the truth.
After a while, Sect Master Shi finally showed a genuine smile. He reached out to hug Yin Ci. ‘How wonderful,’ Shi Jingzhi thought. The cause of his long-sought illness had been revealed. Although many mysteries remained unsolved, he had never felt so at peace…
Wait, something’s wrong.
Yin Ci watched as Shi Jingzhi’s hugging gesture slowly distorted, turning into one of holding his head, then slowly crouching down.
“Regardless of what they made the Child of Desire for, or how the Shirou work,” Shi Jingzhi said, clutching his head, “if the cause is as you say, to survive, wouldn’t I have to destroy all the flesh idols in the country?”
There were thousands of temples. Even if he and Yin Ci split up and destroyed one a day, they wouldn’t have enough time.
Wasn’t he doomed?!
Outside the shrine.
Su Si and Yan Qing wore tattered civilian clothes, hiding in a dark alley, guarding several bags of kerosene. Yan Qing occasionally checked the time, while Su Si’s head drooped, nearly falling asleep.
“It’s almost time,” Yan Qing reminded considerately.
Su Si rubbed his face, his gaze a bit scattered. “Three hours, my back is stiff… San Zi, have you ever started a fire before? Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Never,” Yan Qing admitted. “But if we seem too proficient at playing resentful refugees plotting revenge against Chigou, wouldn’t that raise suspicions?”
“You can be quite scary sometimes,” Su Si remarked, patting his face to wake himself up. “It’s strange, this time they sneaked in perfectly and brought everything they needed. Why risk everything by setting a fire?”
Yan Qing gripped the kerosene bag, momentarily lost in thought. “Perhaps the Sect Master had other considerations.”
“What are you thinking about? I’ve never seen you daydream while working.”
“Thinking of you,” Yan Qing said seriously. “The Chigou sect wants you to be the next Young Patriarch. Are you planning to stay?”
Stunned, Su Si paused before teasingly asking, “Do you want me to stay? If I do, won’t it be hard for you alone?”
Yan Qing didn’t take the bait. “I know you. You’re not indecisive. Just yesterday, the Sect Master talked to you. If you’ve made up your mind, tell me…”
“I haven’t,” Su Si smirked. “Didn’t you once say that someone like me wouldn’t announce my departure? Oh, and you also said that if I ever speak up, you’d trust me.”
His own words were thrown back at him. Yan Qing sighed. After a moment, he picked up the kerosene and started the fire as planned.
The matchstick ignited the kerosene, and the flames soared up to eight feet high. The region of Shafu was arid and lacked water, so within a short span of time, the temple was covered in thick smoke with flames reaching the sky.
The next day, news from the Yueshui Pavilion spread all over the southern and northern regions—
The Patriarch of Chigou committed heinous crimes with far-reaching implications. Wu Huai met his tragic end, sparking widespread anger among the people. The members of Chigou, carrying Wu Huai’s severed head, went to the temple to pray and dispel the curse. However, they were attacked by a group of desperados who set the temple on fire. While no Chigou members were harmed, the temple in Shafu was destroyed due to the uncontrollable blaze.
According to bystanders, a young child passed by the burnt statues and reportedly heard numerous sighs of relief. With the catastrophe so recent, what relief and sighs could there be? It was likely just a sensational rumor circulating among the public. Everyone was advised not to be gullible.
Kinky Thoughts:
Well, in a way, He Cheng’an was correct. Yin Ci’s “offspring” is the strongest.
Sometimes, Shi Jingzhi would follow closely, and Yin Ci’s mood became much more stable.
If the truth had emerged when he was in utter despair, yearning for death, it would undoubtedly lead to a bout of demonic possession. Initially, he pulled Shi Jingzhi from the “heavens” to the “mortal world” out of mere curiosity. Who would have known that upon gaining a human heart, Shi Jingzhi would pull him away from hell.
Twenty-four years had passed, and here they were reunited in the mortal world.
Yin Ci was enveloped in an odd calm, explaining briefly to Hua Jingchun. Shi Jingzhi was listening intently on the side, still harboring a stifled emotion in his chest—
Half an hour ago, in a guest room of the Fallen God Tower.
Shi Jingzhi looked down at Yin Ci on the bed. Yin Ci’s consciousness had returned. His face was still a tad pale, but his gaze was incredibly gentle. Shi Jingzhi caressed his soft hair, his heart becoming increasingly restless. From the hunter’s descendant to the immortal enigma, he had peeled off this man’s many masks and saw the true face of Yin Ci, which even Yin Ci himself didn’t know.
This was the best person in the world—his person. Only he knew this person’s real name.
A moment ago, he was anxious, fearing gain and loss, but now it felt like he had everything. Joy surged through him like a blazing fire, making Shi Jingzhi’s mind foggy.
There were so many emotions that words couldn’t describe; he urgently needed an outlet.
Unable to resist, Shi Jingzhi kissed the corner of Yin Ci’s eye, murmuring words that had been buried for three hundred years in his heart. The beast of desire was no longer tearing at him from within but rather teasing him, the tingling sensation driving him mad.
Yin Ci understood Shi Jingzhi’s emotions and decided to fan the flames. Holding Shi Jingzhi’s head, he returned a firm deep kiss. Unaccustomed to such provocations, Shi Jingzhi began to think of how to completely possess him.
He even thought he saw a glint of fire.
It must be an illusion, Shi Jingzhi thought seriously. Perhaps his desires were too intense, and it felt like his inner fire was becoming visible.
While Sect Master Shi was lost in his thoughts, his inner robe was swiftly removed by Yin Ci’s hands. Not wanting to be left behind, just as his hands were about to touch Yin Ci’s belt, a sudden shout of “incoming water” mixed with the sound of gongs broke the mood.
Shi Jingzhi: “…”
He seriously began to think he was some eminent monk from the Jiachen Temple who had lost his way; otherwise, why would every attempt at breaking his vows be watched by the heavens? As if a wooden fish was in front and a gong behind, they seemed intent on ruining the mood.
Sitting stiffly on the bed with emotions running across his face, perhaps noticing Shi Jingzhi’s dazed expression, or perhaps feeling good from their encounter, Yin Ci, with a hint of mischief, covered his eyes and burst into laughter.
Having laughed enough, he suddenly turned around, pressing down on Shi Jingzhi, who looked like a cooked crab. “You don’t have to be so sensitive. Let the outside world burn if it must. But today, you and I—”
“Sect Master!” From outside, Yan Qing’s voice cried out. “Sect Master, open the door quickly! A’Si is seriously injured!”
A glimmer of hope flashed across Shi Jingzhi’s eyes, only to be shattered by Yan Qing’s shout. Pretending to be dead for a moment, he gathered all his self-control, and then took Yin Ci’s inner garment to wear.
Just as Yin Ci was about to put on his inner clothing, he reached out and felt nothing. Seeing the other’s desolate look and remembering that he had torn the garment, Demonic Lord Yin felt guilty and remained silent with a solemn face.
After hastily dressing, Shi Jingzhi muttered the “Purifying Words” under his breath. But his addiction was too intense, and as he subconsciously raised his hand, his fingers almost touched his teeth.
Yin Ci quickly grabbed that hand, saying, “That’s enough. We can’t be careless here. Third time’s the charm. Next time, I’ll set up a bridal chamber for you.”
Hearing these words, the madness in Shi Jingzhi’s eyes intensified. Thankfully, he had improved self-control and didn’t bite himself. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Zizhu, why do I feel that you’re promising more and more?”
So much that he felt he might burst from overflowing hope.
The name made Yin Ci remain silent for a long time. Finally, he looked up and said, “Your Highness, whether it’s a proposal or a wedding, it can’t be done alone.”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t reply immediately. He took the charm from the remnants of his clothing and placed it close to his chest. Turning his back to Yin Ci, he headed for the door. When he spoke again, still with his back to Yin Ci, there was a slight tremble in his voice. “Mm, instead of a long, worry-free life alone, I prefer this.”
“I know.”
As they spoke, there was a fluttering sound from the window. Sparrows chirped anxiously outside, coinciding with Yan Qing’s knocking. The two men, helpless, had to end their tender moment and get busy.
Soon, the master and disciple understood the situation.
Seeing Wu Huai reduced to just a head, Shi Jingzhi’s intense desire turned into frustration. Listening to Yin Ci’s calm voice, he felt a hint of envy.
Why was it that only he had to exercise such restraint?
Despite his feelings, the current situation had to be addressed. Shi Jingzhi clenched his fist.
After hearing Yin Ci’s concise explanation, Hua Jingchun hesitated and claimed she needed to think. Su Si and Yan Qing relaxed significantly when they saw the person from Chigou leave. Only one person in the room became increasingly nervous, shaking so much that the stool’s legs rattled.
Shi Jingzhi pulled the cloth from Xu Jingming’s mouth, amusingly watching him gag.
“You… You want to kill me.” Xu Jingming, with a mouthful of cloth taste, lost all his bravado from the Ghost Tomb. “You deliberately sold Chigou a favor, so they’d instigate various martial sects to hold a martial arts conference! All to hinder Qu Duanyun and seize the Shirou! You know I heard everything; you surely won’t let me—ow!”
Without hesitation, Shi Jingzhi gave his half-brother a knock on the head. Xu Jingming, pampered all his life, immediately shed tears.
“You’re not from the Immortal Assembly. Why should I kill you? After making such a commotion in Chigou, anyone with ears would have heard. If I killed you, it’d just bring more trouble.”
“How do you know I’m not from the Immortal Assembly?”
Shi Jingzhi looked at him with a hint of pity for a moment. “The Immortal Assembly doesn’t favor the Emperor’s eyes and ears, nor do they accept fools. You fit both criteria.”
Xu Jingming was instantly enraged. Yet he considered that his current situation might be a prelude set up by Qu Duanyun and lost all his energy to scold Shi Jingzhi. Even if this brother caused a national calamity, one couldn’t just blame him for everything.
However, Shi Jingzhi seemed to see through his thoughts. “You’ve been tricked by Qu Duanyun to this extent. You might as well see him fail. If he wanted you to die in Chigou, I’d let everyone know you’re here, so he can fetch you back to Yidu with the officers… At that time, you’ll stay faithfully by the Emperor’s side, and the Imperial Preceptor won’t risk harming you.”
“Qu Duanyun is indeed from the Immortal Assembly. I didn’t say he was involved. How do you know?”
“Have you ever thought about why that person specially drugged you, threw you into a basement, and set it on fire?”
Shi Jingzhi, expressionless, leaned in.
“If the aim was to frame Chigou, it would be simpler to kill you from the start and leave your body here, and there would be no further complications. That person not killing you himself means he either had some kind of bond with you or killing you ‘wasn’t his style’… The only one I can think of is Qu Duanyun.”
Shi Jingzhi had paid attention: Qu Duanyun was an interesting character. He wasn’t purely good, but he wasn’t hypocritical either. He had a unique sense of morality.
Xu Jingming, as the Prince of Rong, held a noble status. Although he didn’t value commoners’ lives, he wasn’t deserving of death according to either Great Yun’s or Taiheng’s rules.
Yet, he was still unsure. He had limited interaction with Qu Duanyun and could only gauge by Xu Jingming’s reaction.
As expected, Xu Jingming’s gaze shifted, and he shrank a little.
Having witnessed Wu Huai’s methods and eavesdropped on the conversation between Yin Ci and Hua Jingchun, Xu Jingming realized this was related to the Imperial Preceptor. Qu Duanyun’s appearance at this time couldn’t be coincidental.
The most infuriating part was that Shi Jingzhi hit the nail on the head. Why didn’t they kill him earlier? If the mastermind was Shi Jingzhi, he probably would have been torn apart by now.
The only one capable of such a thing was Qu Duanyun, born in the Qu Clan and raised in Taiheng.
Xu Jingming’s eyes reddened, and he gritted his teeth. “What a hypocrite. He doesn’t even want to dirty his own hands.”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t continue the conversation. He motioned for Yan Qing to escort Xu Jingming to his room, and also to guard him.
Watching Yan Qing obediently leave and seeing his own attendant being only Lord Bai, Su Si was displeased. He tried to sit up and angrily said, “You’ve arranged the message and got the allies from Chigou, so why release him? Kill him and throw him near Yidu. The emperor won’t blame Chigou and might even punish Qu Duanyun.”
“I still have questions for Qu Duanyun; he needs to wait. As for Xu Jingming, I have my uses,” Shi Jingzhi said distractedly.
Once they were alone, Shi Jingzhi occasionally glanced at Yin Ci, and the familiar feeling of disappointment enveloped him.
Yin Ci looked at Shi Jingzhi for a while and then, turning his back to Su Si, grabbed Shi Jingzhi’s hand. The latter was confused but let Yin Ci hold on.
Yin Ci brought the hand to his lips and gently bit Shi Jingzhi’s finger. Not long before, Shi Jingzhi almost bit the same spot to suppress his desire.
Unlike Shi Jingzhi, who bit without thinking, Yin Ci’s bite was gentle, and his warm tongue briefly touched the finger. Shi Jingzhi inhaled sharply, understanding the gesture. His eyes lit up, and his disappointment vanished.
They both had a lot of restraint.
Shi Jingzhi, in a good mood, whispered in Yin Ci’s ear, “Let’s go, Zizhu. Dawn is approaching. How about we have a drink?”
A day later, in the Imperial Preceptor’s Residence.
Jiang Youyue stared at a letter. There was no wrinkle between his brows, and he was in high spirits.
“Not able to outdo Taiheng, they chose the knife of Chigou. Not only did they not fall into despair, they even used the martial arts conference to buy time. Impressive,” he mused. “This generation’s Child of Desire is indeed promising.”
There was a glimmer of hope after numerous Imperial Preceptors had come and gone. The only concern was that Qu Duanyun was becoming more and more unruly, which needed to be addressed properly. They had to find out more about Xu Jingming, the Prince of Rong, to ensure he didn’t ruin their plans at a critical time.
Once this storm passed, their Hundred-Year Project would finally succeed.
Ling Xiao’s visit came to an end. Qian Ji personally escorted them out to the main gate.
“Remember my words, never come here again. The vast world outside is where you should be.”
After bidding farewell to Qian Ji, Ling Xiao returned to the academy with the principal. Compared to the omnipresent oppression at the disease control center, every student here seemed so vibrant and full of life. Just by looking at them, one could feel a sense of hope. Ling Xiao started to understand why the principal chose to stay and work at the academy.
“Do you know why, even though we know the peace during the coming-of-age ceremony is a lie that will eventually be exposed, we still use this lie to paint a rosy picture?”
Ling Xiao shook his head.
“We’ve tried many methods before this. Some people volunteered to be bound during the coming-of-age ceremony, but they bit off their tongues when their blood was taken. Some slept through their tumultuous phase in a sleeping chamber, but when they woke up, their hormone secretion skyrocketed to uncontrollable levels. No physical, chemical, or biological means succeeded before the coming-of-age ceremony.”
“One year, we explained all the drawbacks of what they would experience before and after the coming-of-age ceremony. As a result, the entire cohort of students refused to participate. However, due to one person’s hormonal imbalance, it triggered a chain reaction. The fledglings killed each other, resulting in the greatest tragedy in centuries. That day, a comet named “Ash” passed by; hence, the incident was later known as the ‘Ash Event’.”
Ling Xiao’s heart jolted. The name ‘Ash Event’ had been written in history books. Every year on that day, the academy would toll bells in remembrance. The books merely mentioned it was an accident. The true cause was something he learned today for the first time.
“The coming-of-age ceremony is like a hurdle for our kind. No matter what we try, not everyone can overcome it. Some are always left behind.”
“Did Dr. Yao give you medicine?” The principal suddenly changed the topic.
Ling Xiao hesitated. “Yes.”
“When I first discovered that the drug could alleviate pain, I took it almost daily and became seriously addicted. The doses kept increasing until they no longer met my needs. When I tried to quit, the spiritual pressure I had been avoiding hit back with compound interest. Every ounce of pain I was supposed to endure hadn’t diminished; instead, it had accumulated with high interest.”
“Being a Qizi is like the coming-of-age ceremony; you have to walk a certain path on your own. If you take shortcuts now, you will have detours later. All the debts you thought you escaped are just accumulating. But over the years, I’ve learned restraint and have been taking the medicine less and less.”
Ling Xiao saw a glimmer of hope. “How did you manage to sleep without the medication?”
“I didn’t,” he said calmly. “I just need less and less sleep.”
This truth was a blow to Ling Xiao. He thought that if one was as strong as the principal, one could overcome pain. But the principal had spent a century just learning to coexist with the pain.
“I know what you’re thinking. You feel that living like this is worse than death. But I persist because I still delude myself into thinking that I can meet the person who abandoned me one more time.”
Only then did Ling Xiao realize, in shock, that the principal’s Qizhu hadn’t died. He thought the principal’s experience was similar to Lan Sheng’s, but the principal had actually been abandoned.
“For our kind, nothing is simpler than death. But for some of us, the journey of life is the hardest. Only by living can we have a chance to meet again.”
“This is why I’ve persisted until now. I believe Lan Sheng also has his reasons. What you want to give up on is what some people desperately wish for. Some will never get it. We are still holding on, what reason do you have to give up?”
“If you haven’t been separated, don’t be in a rush to let go. If long separations can end in reunions, what more with those you spend every day with?”
Ling Xiao walked back to his dormitory, lost in thought. His steps quickened until he started running. As soon as he returned to his dormitory, he went straight to the bedside, picked up the medicine Dr. Yao had given him, stared at it for a while, and finally threw the whole bottle into the trash.
Ying Feng had been watching him the whole time. “Why did you throw it away?”
“I don’t need it anymore,” Ling Xiao said, looking down at the bottle in the trash. What he threw away wasn’t just the medicine but also some immature notions he had been holding onto, only to realize they were unnecessary. “I won’t take my life lightly, I won’t be my own enemy, I will live well, get permission to study further…”
He looked up determinedly. “Ying Feng, I promise I won’t drag you down.”
……
The next day, when Ying Feng woke up, he unexpectedly found an extra person in his arms. Ling Xiao buried his head in Ying Feng’s chest and was sleeping soundly. Yet, Ying Feng couldn’t recall when he had pulled him close. Could it have been an unconscious act while he was in a deep sleep?
The day before, he had read a great deal about the relationship between a Qizhu and his Qizi. He also learned about the sleep disturbances a Qizi can experience during a vulnerable period due to the lack of physical contact with their Qizhu. Those who bonded because of emotional ties would inevitably sleep close together like they were now, which meant they wouldn’t experience the problems Ling Xiao had.
However, the soothing effect of this simple physical contact couldn’t compare to the duration of intimacy they shared the previous day. Just as Ying Feng was getting up, Ling Xiao woke up from his dream. His groggy appearance made it evident he hadn’t had enough rest. But he quickly perked up, got out of bed, and sat face-to-face with Ying Feng, intending to “negotiate”.
“I have a suggestion.”
Ying Feng listened quietly.
“We both know our bonding was an accident. You don’t want this outcome, and neither do I. But we are, in essence, in this together now. If I can’t improve my mental rating, neither of us can progress in our education. Since we can’t achieve the kind of equality Dr. Yao mentioned in terms of love, we can establish another kind of equality.”
“Go on.”
“We can each propose our own conditions. Once one of us proposes a condition, the other can propose another. If both agree, the condition becomes effective.”
Ying Feng had no objections. “You start.”
Ling Xiao thought for a moment. “You cannot order me around in public, and not in private either.”
Ying Feng quickly responded, “You can’t be overly friendly with others in front of me or behind my back.”
Ling Xiao weighed the request and felt he was getting a better deal, but he didn’t understand Ying Feng’s reasoning. “Can you tell me why?”
Ying Feng’s face was emotionless. “Because it makes me uncomfortable.”
This answer was unexpected for Ling Xiao. He thought Ying Feng would use the logic “Because I’m your Qizhu” or “Because you’re my Qizi.”
“Agreed,” Ling Xiao affirmed the first condition and then proposed the second. “Don’t use your psychic ability to locate me casually. I have my privacy.”
“You can’t stay out late. In special situations, you need to notify me.”
“Deal. Don’t use your powers to scare or coerce me. And never hit me.”
“To ensure your mental development is normal, I will exercise my rights appropriately. When necessary, I will use certain measures, and you can’t refuse.”
Ling Xiao wasn’t sure what “certain measures” meant, but he instinctively felt it wasn’t good. After some hesitation and considering the importance of ensuring the balance of power, he agreed. “This condition is accepted. For now, these are my three points. Do you have anything to add?”
“Don’t max out the card at the end of every month.”
Ling Xiao’s mouth twitched, and he replied gruffly, “Alright, I haven’t thought of what to exchange for that yet. We’ll discuss it when I have an idea.” Then he initiated the network connection. “Now I want to visit the school. Are you coming?”
The two logged into the education department’s virtual platform. At the entrance were direct portals to various colleges, sorted by comprehensive assessment. The top one was the Royal Sky Military Academy. Ling Xiao didn’t hesitate and chose it as the first stop for their tour. Standing in front of the grand and imposing main entrance of the academy, they felt an overwhelming sense of respect. The Tianxius, who had lived and thrived on this land for generations, were taught from a young age to be loyal to their homeland. Long before they learned to love an individual, they learned to love their country.
It was hard to imagine that such a profound impression came just from a virtual projection. If they could truly stand in front of the school or even enter it, what pride and honor that would be! From the moment Ling Xiao stood in front of the school’s entrance, he was captivated. With a voice full of excitement, he turned to the person behind him and said, “I’ve thought of my next exchange condition. I want to take the entrance exam for…”
“Royal Sky?” Ying Feng swiftly finished the sentence for him. “You can save that condition.”
Ling Xiao turned in surprise. “Why? You don’t agree?”
“No,” Ying Feng denied. “Because that’s also the condition I wanted to propose.”
Ling Xiao suppressed the surging emotions in his chest and took his first step. It was a step into the Royal Sky Military Academy in the virtual network and also a formal step into a new life in the spiritual world.
Inside the virtual campus, there were no real people. To provide visitors with a more intuitive impression, the school simulated images of teachers and students using 3D figures. As they walked from the entrance, they saw students from different majors undergoing various types of training. Unfamiliar battle techniques emerged one after another, making Ling Xiao dazzled.
The staff member responsible for explanations in the admissions office was a real school employee, not an AI. As soon as he saw Ling Xiao and Ying Feng, he greeted them politely.
“Welcome to the Royal Sky campus network. The touch screen provides all the enrollment information and detailed introductions to our majors. Please feel free to browse, and I’m here to answer any questions.”
Ling Xiao approached a large screen. Dozens of colleges were further divided into hundreds of departments. Each department had a symbol next to it; some had a circle, others had an X.
“What do these symbols mean?” He pointed and asked.
“In the past, some of the majors at Royal Sky didn’t admit Qizi. But in recent years, we have opened all majors for both Qizi and their Qizhu to compete fairly. Those with a circled major mean that if the Qizhu passes the entrance exam, the Qizi can enroll without examination. Those with an X require both the Qizhu and the Qizi to take the exam.”
Ling Xiao casually clicked on one, and a new window popped up, providing a detailed introduction to that major. Among the notable alumni, Ling Xiao recognized a familiar face.
“Ah, that’s the one from that day.” The short military officer who had escorted him from the medical station to the detention center. He hadn’t realized that the officer was also a graduate of the Royal Sky Military Academy.
The receptionist wasn’t surprised he recognized Fu Yao, as he was a well-known figure. “Major General Fu Yao and his Qizi are outstanding graduates of our Combat Command major. Many students apply to this major because of him. A few years ago, he accepted our school’s invitation to serve as a guest lecturer in the Joint Combat major, allowing some students the opportunity to be directly mentored by him. It’s now one of our most popular majors.”
“Joint Combat major…” Ling Xiao located it on the list. Its symbol was unique—a circle with an X inside.
“What does this symbol mean?” he asked, puzzled.
“It means both individuals take the exam together, right?” Ying Feng, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up, making his first comment since they arrived.
“Exactly,” the receptionist replied with an appreciative look. “This is the only major that requires both the Qizhu and the Qizi to apply together. If either fails the exam, they cannot join the major. Hence, it’s the toughest major to get into.”
Learning about its difficulty only ignited Ling Xiao’s fighting spirit. He viewed a video featuring joint combat tactics of the Qizhu and Qizi. Watching their skills made Ling Xiao feel like his own abilities were child’s play. He imagined himself and Ying Feng in their place. Would they one day fight side by side with such synergy? Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of the unrealistic thoughts. Their partnership was based on mutual benefits, not deep feelings like other close couples. The duo in the video, however, worked seamlessly together, almost as if they were one entity.
Ling Xiao downloaded several major introductions he was interested in. Ying Feng noticed all the chosen majors required the Qizi to take an exam, but the Joint Combat major wasn’t among them.
After copying the data, Ling Xiao expressed his gratitude to the receptionist and then logged off the network. He didn’t even plan to look at the rest of the school. He studied the materials until the lights were turned off. By that time, Ying Feng had already gone to sleep, and Ling Xiao intentionally delayed for quite a while.
Once assured that Ying Feng was asleep, he carefully moved closer, like the previous night, sneaking up to press against Ying Feng’s back. It felt comforting, like a ship returning to its harbor or a bird returning to its nest. As sleep overtook him, the person he leaned on turned, wrapping an arm around Ling Xiao, drawing him into an embrace.
Ling Xiao was completely stiffened, and the sleepiness he felt just a moment ago had vanished into thin air. His little act was caught in less than a day, and the exposure of his intentions made him lose face immediately.
Just as he was frozen, not knowing what to do, a cold, emotionless voice from Ying Feng came from above.
“Aren’t you aiming to improve your psychological rating and move on together in school? Since our goals align, let’s work hard together.”
Inside Spring Hill Mental Asylum, Zhou Qian was making final preparations to enter the game with Qi Liuxing.
This time, Zhou Qian was unable to bring He Xiaowei along.
Firstly, He Xiaowei needed to revisit the normal instances to earn more skill points. He was planning to become a dedicated healer, enhancing his skills even more.
Secondly, when Zhou Qian chose to be the team leader and created the preparation room, ready to select teammates for matching, the system prompt appeared:
[When players enter a special instance as a team, there’s a limit to the number of members to maintain game balance. Only three teammates can be taken this time.]
Zhou Qian clearly understood the system’s intentions: even in future instances, he couldn’t bring all of his ideal teammates into the game. If everyone was too coordinated, it would indirectly reduce the difficulty of the instance, affecting the game’s balance, as the system warned. Due to the crafty system, Zhou Qian had to leave behind his healer, only taking with him the “Sword and Heart” duo and Situ Qing.
At that moment, He Xiaowei called. “Qian’er, I’m worried! What if Situ Qing messes things up? Who knows if she’s genuinely trying to make amends?”
Zhou Qian responded, “Do you think I can’t see through her?”
He Xiaowei: “…I’m just worried! What if she joins some legion and aligns with a powerful gambler? Or even if she doesn’t change and stays as she was before—”
Zhou Qian: “We can test her in the next Level 3 instance. If she dares to act out, I won’t show mercy.”
“That makes sense. Testing now is better than waiting for a higher difficulty level, which would probably bring more trouble.” He Xiaowei seemed to understand. “But I’m still worried about you guys. Haa… How can a team not have a healer?”
Zhou Qian sincerely said, “So, you need to work hard on leveling up in the normal skill instance. Next time, we’ll have a great healer. We’ll rely on you for future high-difficulty instances.”
“Ah, I am indeed very important.” He Xiaowei seemed suddenly full of energy. “Alright Qian’er, I’ll go!”
Zhou Qian smiled. “Good luck.”
While Zhou Qian was on the phone, Qi Liuxing was taking a shower. Qi Liuxing was a very ritualistic person. Before entering an instance, he would shower and change his clothes, nearly to the point of lighting incense.
After his shower, Qi Liuxing noticed Zhou Qian was off the phone. With only the bedside lamp on, half of Zhou Qian’s face was in shadow, looking somewhat gloomy. Qi Liuxing glanced at the urn on Zhou Qian’s nightstand, hesitated, and then asked, “Do you think… under these circumstances, if he knows from the other side, would your classmate bless us?”
Zhou Qian raised an eyebrow and said meaningfully, “Why don’t you pray to him in the game?”
“What do you mean?” Qi Liuxing was confused.
“Nothing.” Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes. “Well… I’m not entirely sure yet. Let’s keep observing.”
Qi Liuxing noticed Zhou Qian looked quite upset, almost as if he was angry. But with Zhou Qian’s acting skills, Qi Liuxing couldn’t tell if he was genuinely mad or just joking.
“Eh? Are you upset?” Qi Liuxing asked.
“…I’m okay.” Zhou Qian still looked somber.
“Oh.” Qi Liuxing continued, “Didn’t you mention someone took you as a disciple? Where is he?”
“I don’t know where he went,” Zhou Qian replied with a somewhat clenched tone. He quickly accessed the game interface, seemingly searching for something with great intensity.
“What are you doing? Checking the trading hall? Looking for equipment or items?” Qi Liuxing asked.
Zhou Qian: “No. Doesn’t the system have a player feedback function? I’m giving the system some feedback.”
Qi Liuxing: “What kind of feedback?”
Zhou Qian: “I hope they introduce a blocking feature.”
“Ah? Who are you going to block? Not me, right?”
“Of course not, Sword God brother. I’m relying on your damage output.”
“…………”
Then, Qi Liuxing heard Zhou Qian say, “Yes. I should… extort a large sum, then block him.”
……
On the other side, in an instance setting reminiscent of a post-apocalyptic zombie world.
A figure, once sleek, was now covered in wounds and blood. He had been fighting a seemingly indestructible zombie for seven days and nights.
At this moment, he was dizzy, his body merely breathing in and out instinctively. He could distinctly feel that the way he wielded his sword was now purely based on muscle memory and instinct. He couldn’t control his body logically, let alone think of a combat strategy. This person was Hidden Blade.
Hidden Blade felt like he couldn’t get past this obstacle. Amidst his dizziness, he was somewhat concerned about Bai Zhou, wondering how he was faring. In this instance, there were no mysteries to solve, just straightforward monster-fighting to level up and enhance their combat skills.
However, almost no one came to this dungeon. The reason was simple—the boss here was extremely powerful. There were two bosses inside: one strong and one weaker. Hidden Blade was fighting the weaker one; he didn’t dare to approach the stronger one and left it to Bai Zhou.
During this time, one thing Hidden Blade couldn’t help but wonder about was—why hadn’t Bai Zhou summoned his dragon form?
In his dragon form, Bai Zhou’s attack and defense would multiply, reducing their risk and speeding up the dungeon clearing process. It wouldn’t have dragged on for seven days and nights.
These god-level players in the game could transform between human and animal forms. It was said that once they reached the peak and truly “become gods”, they could switch between these forms at will. But they couldn’t do it yet.
Bai Zhou transformation into a dragon and Hidden Blade into a fox were equivalent to using an ability, and the cooldown was quite long.
Hidden Blade had already transformed into his fox form three days ago, so he couldn’t do it again now. But when did Bai Zhou ever become a dragon?
Lost in his thoughts, Hidden Blade suddenly found himself struggling. After a powerful blow to his chest, he was sent flying into the air, crashing hard into the ground. The impact injured his spine, and there was a dull sound from the back of his head hitting the ground, dropping his health to just 5%.
His pupils shrank in fear as he saw the zombie’s fist coming for his head.
He was out of options. Overwhelmed by the pain, his sword fell to the ground with a clang. Just as he was about to give up and await his fate, a faint light approached.
In this dark world, compared to the fierce zombie, the light was easy to miss. But anyone who saw it was completely drawn to it. It was a thin but sharp light, carrying a deadly intent, as if the God of Death had raised his scythe!
Bai Zhou was here!
The zombie’s punch weakened just inches from Hidden Blade’s face. This was because that faint blade of light had decapitated the zombie!
Witnessing this, Hidden Blade was momentarily dazed. He had chosen his name because of his affinity for blades, aspiring to excel in swordsmanship. He had always believed himself to be an excellent swordsman… until he met Bai Zhou.
When would he ever be as formidable as Bai Zhou?
Suddenly snapping back to reality, Hidden Blade turned his head and saw Bai Zhou walking towards him, his back facing the endless blaze.
Bai Zhou’s silhouette was tall and slender, and his facial features were obscured by the backlight of the fire, making it hard to discern his expression.
As Bai Zhou walked closer, a faint, shimmering light danced on the ground. It emanated from the weapon in his hand—a simple, ancient, yet ferocious tang sword.
Just moments ago, Bai Zhou had gripped this sword and swung it at the zombie from a distance…
With just a single swing, he eliminated the creature that Hidden Blade had been battling for seven days and nights!
Unexpectedly, there was a sudden movement on the ground. It was the head of the zombie, which started to shake.
Indeed, it was a formidable creature. Its head was cut off, and yet it could revive once again!
Following that, Hidden Blade watched as Bai Zhou stepped forward, snapped his fingers at the zombie, and its entire body burst into flames.
In no time, it felt as if the entire world was ablaze—there were only two zombies in this instance, and their bodies were quite massive. At this moment, as both were being incinerated, it seemed as if the entire world was set ablaze.
The pale face, drained of blood, was painted red by the flames. Facing the grand blaze, Hidden Blade gradually regained his composure. He took a deep breath and looked towards Bai Zhou. “Thank you! Thank you so much, God! I’m deeply grateful. Did you defeat the main boss long ago and was just testing me, so you only intervened at the last moment?”
However, Bai Zhou remained expressionless and replied succinctly. “No. I’m short on time.”
“Short… short on time? Oh…” Hidden Blade realized. “Are you going to log into another NPC? Wait… you can’t. Logging into NPCs consumes a lot of mental energy. You should rest. You’re… you’re also low on HP!”
Bai Zhou didn’t utter a word but simply looked down to open his system panel.
“Hey, listen, and please don’t get mad at me for being chatty. I’ve heard… your body is undergoing a severe rejection reaction.”
“You should return to reality, get treated, and then rest properly. You can’t go on like this…”
“In recent times… you want to keep leveling up and also act as an NPC… Well… how about I help you log into the NPC? I swear, I’ll protect Zhou—”
Suddenly, all of Hidden Blade’s ramblings stopped. In front of him, Bai Zhou raised a finger, signaling him to remain silent.
With the deaths of the two zombies, this apocalyptic world began to crumble and disintegrate. The daylight vanished entirely, and darkness engulfed everything.
Standing in front of the collapsing world, amidst the flames and the dark, Bai Zhou’s tall figure stood as straight as the tang sword in his hand. The blade of his white tang sword was smeared with a trace of blood, probably left from when he killed the biggest boss.
Blood also stained half of his face and one black pupil. Holding the sword in his right hand and raising a finger with his left, the sight of him looking over was truly terrifying.
In that moment, facing Bai Zhou’s gaze, Hidden Blade involuntarily shivered, a coldness stemming from deep fear crawling up from his spine. It seemed as though the person standing in front of him wasn’t a hero who had slain zombies, but a monster that brought about the world’s destruction.
He suddenly recalled the questions he asked when he agreed to be transformed.
“Will I die?”
“Can you truly create a god?”
“Are you creating gods or… a monster?”
Wait, no, that’s not right.
Bai Zhou just saved him.
Taking a fearful breath, Hidden Blade tried to muster a smile towards him. “Well…” But he couldn’t finish his sentence. Bai Zhou had already logged out of the instance, completely vanishing from his sight.
……
“10, 9, 8…” This was the countdown on Zhou Qian’s system panel.
Once the ten-second countdown ended, he received a notification from the system.
[Player Zhou Qian has entered the instance: “Flower of Evil”]
[Instance Difficulty: Level 3; Clear Rate: 50%]
[Hidden Achievement Completion Rate: 6%]
[Number of Players: 7]
With the system’s notification, Zhou Qian found himself in a study room. The room was styled like a medieval Western aristocratic chamber. Paintings hung on the walls, brown carpets lay on wooden floors, bookshelves lined the walls densely packed with books, and the desk was expansive but messy, with pens spilling out of a fallen holder, one of which teetered on the edge of the table.
The room’s tones were gloomy, with a faint sense of dampness and cold permeating. In contrast, flames crackled in the fireplace, providing a touch of warmth.
Zhou Qian, Qi Liuxing, Ke Yuxiao, and Situ Qing loaded into this instance and appeared near the room’s entrance wall. The positions of the other three players were relatively scattered.
The first person Zhou Qian noticed was a girl. She had a ponytail, no makeup, wore jeans and a white t-shirt, looking very capable.
[Name: Yin Jiujiu]
[Rank: A]
[Strengths: Primary Tank; Secondary Melee Damage]
[Gambler System Evaluation: A powerful tank-type female warrior; her weapon is a peculiar wine gourd, drinking from it boosts her strength. I’m debating whether to call her “Wine Goddess*”.]
*Referring to Dionysus/Bacchus. The god of wine-making, orchards and fruit, vegetation, fertility, festivity, insanity, ritual madness, religious ecstasy, and theatre.
Not far to the left of the female warrior Yin Jiujiu, a short, thin man with a buzz cut sat crouched. His appearance was very nondescript, the kind that would easily blend into a crowd without notice.
Through the watch, Zhou Qian also accessed information about him.
[Name: Li Buhui]
[Rank: C]
[Strengths: Team Buff, Status Recovery for teammates]
[Gambler System Evaluation: A mediocre player with ordinary skills and an average growth rate. Probably relies on hugging the thigh of the female warrior to level up.]
Hugging the thigh of the female warrior?
Looks like he was brought in by Yin Jiujui.
But why would the gambler system… belittle him like this, openly revealing his secret to other players?
Zhou Qian pondered briefly before turning his attention to his last unfamiliar teammate.
[Name: Wu Ren]
[Rank: A]
[Strengths: Ranged Assassin; Skilled with concealed weapons]
[Gambler System Evaluation: An extremely powerful assassin. The needle is his most potent weapon. When it rains needles, it means he has come with killing intent. I call him ‘Rain Man’.]
[Rain Man]… the title sounded a bit off.
Zhou Qian raised an eyebrow. At that moment, he noticed a box mysteriously appearing on the carpet in front of the desk.
The box was sealed on all sides, with only a round hole on top, just large enough for a hand to reach into.
He wondered if the system required players to reach in and draw something out.
Zhou Qian took a step forward and looked at the box, but only observed it. He took no additional action until further instructions from the system.
Suddenly, a startled sound came from a player nearby.
Turning his head, Zhou Qian saw that it was Li Buhui, the average-looking male player.
He had been squatting against a bookshelf with cabinets below. He had carelessly opened one, saw something inside, and immediately let out a yelp.
“What’s wrong?”
The question came from Yin Jiujui, the female warrior standing close to him.
Swishing her ponytail, Yin Jiujui walked over with determination. Unlike Li Buhui’s timid demeanor, she opened the cabinet boldly and took something out.
It was a human finger. The finger appeared quite “fresh”, with red nail polish still on the nail.
Yin Jiujui didn’t seem scared, but her eyebrows furrowed tighter.
She then pulled out another item from the cabinet—a strand of long, curly brown hair.
“What the hell is this?” [Rain Man] Wu Ren exclaimed.
“I don’t know,” Yin Jiujui replied, glancing at the other players. “What do you guys think? Should we search the room together? Also… can the door be opened?”
She looked at Qi Liuxing, who was closest to the door, as she asked the last question.
“I’m not sure. I’ll try.” Just as Qi Liuxing was about to touch the door handle, he was stopped by a voice.
It was Zhou Qian.
Qi Liuxing quickly retracted his hand and looked at him. “What’s up?”
Zhou Qian now approached the desk. Bending down, he easily saw a photo—a scene of a woman tied to a stake being burned. She held a long, straight, black object.
It was easily recognizable as something like a magic wand.
Zhou Qian said, “Before we receive the next plot clue, let’s not touch anything haphazardly. This instance seems to be related to witches. If we are in a witch’s house, we should tread carefully.”
After saying this, Zhou Qian moved to the front of the desk. Spread open on the table was a diary.
On that page, two strange lines were written in red ink:
The first read: [Evil is a flower, its color vibrant yet cold, its scent strong yet distant, its appearance charming yet eerie, its stature lofty yet hidden. It blooms on the edge of hell. (Note)]
The second read: [That night was so beautiful. The most magnificent fireworks I’ve ever seen… Fireworks bursting, falling like meteor showers. We chased and played under the meteor showers… That night, I made a secret wish. I so hope it comes true…]
These words gave an eerily cold feeling.
Before Zhou Qian could ponder further, he and the other players received the same message—
[Welcome to “Beautiful Flower Town”. You are all visitors here.]
[Ordinary visitors cannot survive here… Perhaps you’ll undergo some changes to adapt to the environment.]
[Please draw a card from the “black box” in the center of the room.]
[Each card has a number, which is your survival point. It’s especially crucial in the latter part of the game.]
[Please keep your card safe. Friendly tip: Do not easily show your points to teammates. Because, survival points can be stolen.]
The Lost Tower was a few points taller than the tallest trees in the Black Forest. Nol stood on the platform at the entrance of the high tower. The sunlight slammed down from the sky almost violently, and the wind stretched the blue flames of the black candle long.
He found his limbs heating up, his heart racing, and his fingertips trembling incessantly. The wind flowed into his body along the gaps in his robe, bringing a faint sense of pressure, as if wanting to rub off his skin.
He looked down at the swiftly moving monsters and humans on the ground. They brought an unbearable sense of reality, like millions of bullets shooting towards his eyeballs.
The shout “Start the battle” went out, carried away by the wind.
The succubus tribe couldn’t react in time, causing only a burst of turmoil. The two Players moved, then hastily stayed in place, seemingly not knowing how to start.
No matter. He didn’t shout for them.
The movement of the tentacles brought a heavy and soft tremor, sweeping the approaching Nightmares. The silver-edged green flag of the Investigation Knights unfolded in the wind. Nol pulled up his hood, hiding his face in the darkness.
The candle flame ignited a series of characters. They connected into lines and spiraled to his feet. The Lost Tower followed the most direct command, moving to an open space between the trees.
At this moment, the Lost Tower was like a sundial between heaven and earth, and Teest stood in the shadow, symbolizing the moment.
The giant tentacles move slowly, gradually fixing the direction of the Nightmares’ charge. In the blink of an eye, golden threads fill the space between the tentacles, and the rushing Eternalist couldn’t stop. Their bodies were instantly severed.
Teest leaped forward, rushing to the next Eternalist. The ends of the tentacles always appeared where he needed to step. It seemed as if the sky and earth of the Black Forest were like his backyard.
Nol asked, “How fast can you kill?”
‘By now, he should know the answer,’ Teest thought.
Magic condensed into thousands of golden threads, falling from the dense forest.
It was as light as a lover’s kiss, imperceptible. Then, at some moment—a most inconsequential moment—those golden threads tightened in an instant. The moment the target perceived them, life and blood left their body.
The Mad Monk always acted at night, but he was actually more suitable for the bright daylight. When that molten gold light poured down, the golden threads became shards of sunlight, completely hidden between heaven and earth.
Teest freely danced with his hands, staying away from the distracted Nightmares, focusing on the human commanders. He jumped through the forest, leaving countless delicate traps like a spider.
The Eternalists could avoid the large tentacles but couldn’t avoid the delicate golden threads. With a flick and a pull of Teest’s fingertips, the heads of the attackers fell to the ground like ripe persimmons.
Shadow Wolf Ben extended its mouth from the shadows of the trees and took advantage of the chaos to drink the flesh and blood of the Demon King’s minions. Then it vomited it out with a howl and reluctantly returned to Teest’s side.
Of course, it also tried to open its mouth towards the dead Eternalists, but its mouth was instantly wrapped with Teest’s golden thread, forcing it to give up.
[Did you see it?]
Teest’s hair tips were stained with bright red, and that succubus tail trembled excitedly.
He stood on the back of the wolf, leaping over the surging army of Nightmares. Above the countless hands reaching for the sky, golden threads ruthlessly tighten and loosen.
The black blood of the minions mixed with the blood of humans, creating a cacophony of black and red splashing together. Teest tilted his head, and the blood only managed to touch his cheeks.
[I’m so polite. I didn’t even let Ben eat this fresh meat! Stop being mad at me, okay?] He sent out thoughts half-complainingly with a tone that was more teasing than remorseful.
[No, this wasn’t a minor matter. We should have discussed it properly,] Nol said. [You wore my robe without permission. You started a war without notifying me.]
At the same time, a stout tentacle broke several golden threads and wiped the blood off Teest’s cheek gently.
The smile at the corner of Teest’s mouth deepened. His hands danced twice like he was conducting an orchestra, shaking countless blood beads onto the green leaves.
[I thought you would like this surprise.] Amidst the sound of flesh tearing, Teest became more evidently whimsical. [Even if I messed up, my intention was sweet love!]
[You said you wouldn’t give me “love”.] Nol averts his eyes. The Lost Tower rotated rapidly, and tentacles swept to the other half of the battlefield.
[Oh, sweet appreciation.] Teest smoothly changed his words. [Just as you can’t embed precious gems on a toilet, ‘reality’ is the most suitable lining for you—you were in a daze before, having nightmarish shocks, but now you’re full of vitality!]
[So, I should thank you?] A hint of laughter escaped from Nol’s thoughts.
[It’s what I deserve.] Teest sighed. His raised arm was stained with blood again. On his right ear was a bright red mole, redder than the blood that had just gushed out.
The vanguard suffered heavy losses. The next Eternalists to appear would probably have some status. They were well-equipped, moved in groups, and approached the center of the battlefield cautiously.
But they couldn’t find their enemy.
They saw the golden threads in the sky; they saw the swift, wheat-cutting killings. The Mad Monk danced before them, but they couldn’t see the dancer of this dance of death.
There should be someone there, but whenever they tried to focus, their attention slipped away like dew on a lotus leaf.
They couldn’t see, couldn’t remember, and couldn’t retain any impression.
…The “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” of the succubus tribe—the effect of a single piece of jewelry.
To exert its power to this extent, the user should be a succubus… Was the Mad Monk a succubus? How could it be?
Forget it. It didn’t matter. Corpses couldn’t utilize item effects. They just needed to kill him.
They chose to move forward foolishly.
And in a world where everyone couldn’t hear, the conversation continued.
[So your conclusion is, I shouldn’t blame you, but should also thank you for enlightening me?] Nol’s voice was somewhat tense.
He found that Eugene’s Investigation Knights didn’t approach but chose to observe cautiously. This wasn’t a good sign. It meant they wouldn’t bear the firepower for him—Eugene must have noticed the presence of the Mad Monk. He would rather be the fisherman who benefitted from the fight of the snipe and clam*.
*Idiom referring to while the main parties are engaged in their dispute, a cunning third party can seize the opportunity to gain an advantage or profit. It derives from a fable, which you can read in my Kinky Thoughts.
[Thankful? Maybe,] Teest said in an especially innocent and shy tone. [You say it so straightforwardly that it’s making me shy.]
[What, do you really want to see it to the end?] Following that, Teest jumped off the shadow wolf’s back and hung by a golden thread on the skeleton dragon. His blood-stained silver hair swept past the succubi.
This time, his tone didn’t contain any shyness. [My future subjects are really incompetent. My next service has a cost. Are you sure you want to continue watching? The price is high—I guess, “we don’t heal the queen” resulting in the queen’s death probably doesn’t count as “damage” specified in the contract.]
With that, he pointedly raised his chin towards the Investigation Knights. [This distance is just right. Don’t always wait for people to feed you.]
Nol was about to urge the succubi to guard against the knights, but after Teest’s actions, he was left speechless. That guy seemed to be able to predict what he was thinking, or perhaps, their judgments were inherently close to the same conclusion.
This kind of battle was very… comfortable.
However—
[One code returns one code*.]
*(一码归一码) Idiom referring to treat each matter separately or settle each account on its own merits. || Basically, he’s saying this and that are different.
Watching the succubi jump down from the tower like dumplings, Nol continued to argue with Teest. [I’ll thank where thanks are due, but starting a war arbitrarily isn’t negotiable.]
[I’m so sad.]
Teest cried convincingly. If he hadn’t beheaded two or three in passing, this cry would probably be more persuasive.
As soon as the succubi jumped down the Lost Tower, the newly minted Nightmare corpses obediently caught them. They carried the weak succubi on their backs, hiding them among the writhing tentacles.
Standing on the lush grass, the Investigation Knights’ swords were sharp, exuding a vigorous vitality.
…How long has it been since they came in contact with the outside air?
…How long has it been since they preyed on such young and strong targets?
The more experienced succubi immediately formed several teams. Countless charm spells bombarded the young scouts of the Investigation Knights. Indeed, the Investigation Knights had mental resistance training, but this training definitely didn’t include being bombarded by the charm from hundreds of succubi at the same time.
If quality wasn’t enough, make up with quantity!
Eugene looked up at the tower. He just lowered his gaze to find that a dozen scouts at the forefront were all gone.
Eugene: “…?”
Unless they ran away, the scouts couldn’t have disappeared without a sound.
“Be careful of the charm spell!”
Within a few seconds, Knight Eugene reacted. “Everyone, retreat. Activate long-range magical defense. We’ll approach after the conflict in front is resolved!”
“The mage…” Behind him, the deputy commander said in a strained tone, “Captain, the mage has also…”
Good, the mage also ran. The opposite side must have experienced old succubi, and the total number was at least over a thousand.
Eugene’s smile almost disappeared.
He pulled the reins and sternly urged the entire knights to retreat. The problem was, as far as they retreated, those soft tentacles stretched out. The succubi, like clownfish hiding in poisonous anemones, didn’t approach, didn’t attack, but just kept casting charm.
Damn it.
Seeing the Mad Monk’s golden thread for the first time, Eugene decided to watch the battle on the spot. When the two sides had fought enough, it would be the best time for the knights to intervene.
That was the Mad Monk—the blasphemer he wanted to tear to pieces. This was a great opportunity and mustn’t be easily missed.
Who would have thought that the succubi, silent for two hundred years, would actually emerge from their lair, bypassing the fierce central battlefield and directly cause trouble for the Investigation Knights…
These succubi aren’t actually suitable for fighting. Was it arranged by the tower’s master?
Knight Eugene didn’t think this tower was a gift from the Goddess of Life.
It was surrounded by numerous corpses, emitting a strong evil aura. Not to mention the elusive Mad Monk inside and the attacking groups of the Black Forest tribe… Without a doubt, this was a tower belonging to monsters.
Where did it actually come from?
……
“The dream magic of the Black Forest has disappeared.”
Crimson was sitting in a room at some inn in Grape Collar, listening to the report coming from the communication crystal.
The Eternalists were very patient. They had monitored the Black Forest tribe for two to three hundred years. Crimson wasn’t surprised. Domesticating livestock required generations of effort, and domesticating monsters was no exception.
Now the magic protecting the succubi had disappeared.
Perhaps this generation’s ruler died suddenly, and the succubi didn’t have time to choose a successor. Crimson took a sip of the complimentary juice from the inn, thinking indifferently.
“…An unknown tower has appeared in the Black Forest. The ‘Corrupted Nightmares’ sensed a large amount of succubi presence in it. The members currently stationed in the Black Forest are launching an encirclement attack. If Your Lordship is interested…”
“I’m not interested in the skills of the succubi,” Crimson said. “I am more curious about that tower. I have never heard of succubi using towers as nests.”
“After the battle is over, the front line will sort out the information. We have deployed sixty thousand Corrupted Nightmares in the Black Forest. Unless there are dragons in that tower, they definitely cannot withstand God’s attack.”
The voice coming from the communication crystal was full of confidence.
After speaking, the voice paused for a few seconds.
“Eugene’s Fifth Brigade is causing disturbances nearby. The situation may be a bit chaotic. You…”
“I’m not interested in that Eugene either. Tell me the results after you have finished fighting,” Crimson said indifferently. “I’m just a bit curious.”
He had his own goals.
The leader of the caravan, Enbillick Alva, the renowned adopted son of Duke Alva. He was handsome and wealthy and in his prime. His wife was gentle and considerate, and their children were lively and lovely.
Such perfect prey, so favored by fate… Compared to that immature Eugene, this was a sacrifice suitable to be offered to his God. Crimson had been watching Enbillick for many days, preparing to choose a good day to make a move.
Today was indeed a good day to kill.
Crimson unilaterally cut off the communication and changed into a new outfit. He sheathed his dagger and leaned out of the inn window. Below on the main road, Enbillick, riding a strong gray horse, led a team of mercenaries towards the outskirts of the city… Hm, mercenaries. No Players.
After that group of mercenaries passed, Crimson donned his cloak and quietly left the room.
Once out of the city, the team immediately rushed towards the direction of the Black Forest.
What’s going on? Why is the Black Forest so lively today? Crimson raised his eyebrows and closely followed the team.
Upon reaching the destination, Crimson, in a rare moment, was distracted. He leapt to a higher vantage point, staring dumbfoundedly at everything before him.
The Black Forest was trembling.
Standing on the edge of the forest wasn’t a tower at all—it was a giant monster hidden in a tower. Its black tentacles were whipping in the forest, uprooting giant trees as easily as a gardener pulling weeds.
Among the rumbling sounds of falling trees, the whistles became even sharper. The group of Nightmares was dwindling, slowing considerably. The many hands on their heads and necks hung down limply, somewhat at a loss.
Faced with a monstrous tower that might not even have thoughts, their proud psychic influence was useless.
The Eternalists, who were commanding with shepherd’s whistles, became increasingly disordered, turning the powerful whistle into a child’s airy sound.
Groups of black Nightmares rushed forward, turning into minced meat under the stir of tentacles and then becoming decaying corpses guarding those tentacles. They moved forward to where they came from, tearing the flesh of their kind with broken and deformed hands and twisting wet viscera, until the victims became one of them.
The minions of the Demon King emitted a cold aura. After they became corpses, this aura became even colder. The soil and the leaves were dyed brown-black by their blood, emitting a pungent stench.
Sixty thousand Corrupted Nightmares.
Crimson watched the scene of flesh and blood flying before him and couldn’t help but recall that person’s proud tone.
Sixty thousand cannon fodder is more like it. He knew how these things were made—the bodies of Nightmares came from the corruption of the Demon King, plus a bit of control magic. They were even dumber than the boots on his feet. Encircling weak succubi was one thing, but faced with an absolute power difference, they couldn’t think of any decent idea.
The tentacles of the huge tower maneuvered through the horde of corpses, with the ground’s flesh and blood reflecting a greasy light. The masters of the Eternal Church swarmed towards the golden thread like headless flies, soon becoming a part of the carpet of flesh.
The living-like huge tower stood still, almost lazily, like an adult idly stepping on a colony of ants while waiting for a date.
At the base of countless tentacles, on the platform of the first level of the huge tower, Crimson saw a figure.
It was a thin, youthful-looking man holding a magic staff over half a person tall, with a black candle burning at the top of the staff.
…A black candle?!
Black candle plus black tower—this information would definitely lead to something good from the Church. Crimson’s gaze sharpened momentarily. He put his plan to hunt Billy aside and approached the tower through the shadows.
Crimson bypassed the screaming monsters and crossed the battle line of flying magic. He evaded the Investigation Knights and carefully avoided the dangerous area where charm spells were flying.
The base of the huge tentacle was close at hand. Until—
“It’s you, you piece of shit!”
Solo jumped down from above, initiating a series of traps. “Damn, I was just thinking about how to cope without killing—it’s so good it’s you. Beasts aren’t considered humans!”
Why are there Players here?
What is the situation with this tower?
Fortunately, the opponent was just a little rogue, while he was a formally promoted “Night Assassin”. The two were simply not on the same level. Crimson ignored Solo. He rushed straight towards Nol, his hands clawing at the stone bricks on the edge of the tower.
Then he received a hard hit on the head, almost seeing stars.
Anakin was crouched at the edge of the empty ground in front of the tower. The magic stone on her wand, “Perfect Tear”, was covered in blood. She bared her teeth at Crimson and stepped heavily on his outstretched fingers.
Below, Solo has already prepared the trap net. Crimson forcefully resisted the dizziness and kicked hard on the tentacle, barely avoiding being caught.
“Who is this!” Succubus Malvina—Uncle Ma squatted next to him, pointing at Crimson without any hesitation. “Why are you guys fighting so hard?”
Anakin’s expression blanked for a moment. She hesitated for a while and finally decided to explain in Earthian narrative. “A fugitive from Country A who came to Country C. He has killed many people in Country A.”
“Shit.” Uncle Ma cursed sincerely. “That kid talked to me about some game. I knew I shouldn’t believe it. A game that accepts this kind of thing? The police didn’t catch him?”
Wait, game? This special monster knows about the “game”? Who is “that kid”?
Anakin opened her mouth. “Weren’t you a Player before?”
Uncle Ma gave a long hum, and his tail slapped the ground irritably. “Player? Does fighting the landlord* counts? Well, didn’t Xu Yue tell you about me? I admit my attitude was quite bad before, but it’s not like it was unjustified.”
*One of the most popular card games in China.
Anakin lost control of her magic and directly threw a dozen holy light bullets at Crimson who was climbing up. She stared at the female-shaped succubus knight in front of her. “…Who’s Xu Yue?”
Uncle Ma: “……”
Uncle Ma: “…God.”
Ma Zhigang clicked his tongue a couple of times. He looked around and finally puffed up his chest. “Over there—the black-haired mage—that’s my neighbor. We’re from the same community, Joy Garden.”
There was a tone of “We’re very close. It’s all his fault”.
The sounds of fighting and Solo’s constant screams came from below. Anakin turned a deaf ear, looking at Nol, who wasn’t far away, directing the huge tower.
This Mr. Xu grinded the heretics of the Eternal Church like a meat grinder, actively attacked the Investigation Knights of the Temple of Life, and even had an unclear relationship with the Mad Monk.
The Church, Temple, monsters—the three forces were fighting here, and that guy seemed not to mind at all!
Does this kind of person really come from a law-abiding society? Are these monsters non-Players from Earth? Neighbors? What is going on?
What secrets are hidden in this world…?
Moreover, moreover… The Temple of Life is indeed lying to them.
Among a storm of questions, Anakin successfully caught hold of a heavy reality.
……
“Friends, friends.”
As the battle continued relentlessly and the red light ignited in the western sky, a resounding voice suddenly echoed through the forest.
Enbillick Alva, mounted on his gray horse, stepped into the blood and flesh marshland with a usual expression. His voice was amplified by magic that even the shadow wolf had to drop its ears.
“This conflict has been going on for quite some time. I believe everyone can see the outcome. Why not save face for our merchant group and both sides step back a bit?”
He deliberately or unintentionally stopped in front of the Investigation Knights, with the mercenary troops behind him blocking the succubi, who were feasting frenziedly.
A quarter of the knights behind Eugene were gone, but this didn’t stop him from showing a polite smile. “Lord Alva.”
“Call me Billy,” Enbillick said boldly, his ash-colored eyes curving with a smile. “Mr. Eugene, I think those succubi will kill your knights, and the members of the Eternal Church have almost perished. It’s dirty and messy here. Why don’t we go back to the Temple for a drink? What do you think?”
“You’re right. The succubi aren’t highly dangerous, but those starving to death might be—especially when the Mad Monk is here, mingling with those demons.” Eugene said softly, “I’m sorry, Billy. This is important work for the Temple.”
“Ah, then there’s no way.” Billy drew his sword with a touch of melancholy. “You see, this is also my important work.”
Eugene maneuvered his warhorse half a step forward, raising his eyebrows.
“Over a hundred years ago, the wealthy Decoste on his deathbed offered all his assets. He gave the Alva Merchant Group an indefinite commission—if the succubus tribe in the Black Forest appears, we must help resist the possible threat.”
Golden Sword Billy laughed very cordially, but his words said otherwise. “…Like the threat you pose.”
Eugene’s smile seems painted on his face. He said nothing and remained motionless.
“Our merchant group values its reputation. A commission from over a hundred years ago is still a commission.” Seeing Eugene not responding, Billy continued sincerely, “Captain, if you insist on continuing, I will have to note this account down.”
“So.” Eugene opens his moss-green eyes, void of amusement. “Can I understand that the Alva Merchant Group, for the sake of money, would rather stand with that mysterious monster tower?”
“Just like you, for the sake of money, are willing to listen to me talk until now. Even if it involves monsters, reputation is very important.” Billy saluted on horseback. “How about it, sir? …Oh yes, regardless of the outcome, remember to send my regards to the Archbishop.”
Behind Billy, the battle still raged. Golden threads flashed, and limbs flew, dyeing the towering black tower in a bloody glow from the sunset.
Eugene looked in the direction of the gathering golden threads, then at the withered succubi, and finally, he sighed deeply.
“The Temple will request corresponding compensation,” he said.
“Thank you for your understanding. We, of course, all want to coexist peacefully.” Billy laughed loudly. “Then let us next—”
Snap!!!
Before he could finish his words, a tentacle covered in minced flesh slammed violently beside them, showing signs of interception. Billy let out a surprised exclamation, while Eugene lifted his head, looking expressionlessly towards the tower.
The sounds of battle between the monster tower and the Eternal Church had somehow subsided.
And around them, golden threads had appeared unknowingly.
Numerous golden threads wove into a delicate and deadly web around the black tower. Thick, black tentacles snaked through the gaps in the golden threads, and below them was a large blood puddle congealed from dirty blood.
Something lit up at the top of the tower, vast and clear.
It was a strange symbol, resembling a distorted clover. It exhibited a ghostly blue resembling that of a will-o’-wisp, extraordinarily conspicuous in the sunset.
That was exactly the logo of the Joy Garden Community.
Anakin held her head while lost in thoughts while Solo was kicked into the corner by Crimson, who was attempting to climb the tower again.
Uncle Ma frowned while the neighbors were waiting in the distance… and in more distant corners of the world, the wandering Players and monsters.
And Teest, standing above the golden threads, was smiling.
At this moment, everyone with Player privileges saw a burning emblem appear before them. Below the blue emblem, a brief declaration was quickly loading.
At the end of the battle, Nol activated the last function of the “Lost Tower”; a not-so-important small function—
The first guild to activate a large system stronghold could issue a server-wide announcement.
Kinky Thoughts:
The Sandpiper (Snipe) and the Clam
One day, taking advantage of the sunny weather, a clam opened up its hard shell to bask in the sun on the banks of the river. A sandpiper saw it and quickly put its beak into the clam shell to peck at the meat inside. The calm hurriedly closed its hard shell and sealed the sandpiper’s mouth shut. The sandpiper couldn’t peck at the meat, and its mouth was sealed shut, so it threatened the clam and said, “If you don’t loosen your clamp on me, you will eventually die of thirst.” The clam responded without showing weakness, “Your mouth has been clamped by me. If you can’t pull it free, you’ll starve to death!” In this way, the clam and sandpiper fought each other on the beach, and neither would relent. Over time, they became exhausted. A fisherman happened to pass by, and when he saw that they were tightly entangled and neither could move, he easily caught them and took them both home.”
This story was told during the Warring States Period, when the Qin Empire was strongest. On one occasion, the Empire of Zhao declared war on the State of Yan. At the time, the king’s younger brother, Su Dai, was entrusted to go to the Empire of Zhao to persuade the King of Zhao not to send troops. When he arrived, the King of Zhao demanded what he was doing here, to which he told the fable.
After finishing, Su Dai said to the King of Zhao, “If the Empire of Zhao and the State of Yan go to war, the two sides will inevitably be at a standstill for a long time, eventually becoming exhausted. In this way, the mighty Qin Empire will be like the fisherman, who just needs to sit back and reap the benefits. Your Majesty, please consider it carefully before making a decision.” The King of Zhao felt that what Su Dai said was reasonable and dispelled the idea of attacking the State of Yan.
Nol had once envisioned many possible developments.
Most of them originated from intense conflicts concerning differences in lifespan, the Eternal Church, and even racial differences. The ultimate result was the separation of the two due to unhappiness—a standard tragedy.
But she said she had lived a good life.
Even if the queen knew that her strength would eventually be exhausted, destined to walk towards death or madness. Even if she knew that her tribe might not be able to break the siege, what awaited them might be long and hopeless suffering.
Hyacinth would still bless the successors again and again.
May your journey lead to the light.
The message of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” ended, and the dim scene quickly dissipated. Sunlight poured into the Lost Tower, and Nol’s eyes were somewhat sour.
The two Players were stunned, probably thinking this was a fixed part of the quest. Uncle Ma remained silent. His eyes, looking at the unconscious current queen, were extremely complicated.
Only Teest showed no change in expression. His fingertips were playing with one of the earrings. When it wasn’t worn, it no longer looked like a little red mole but like a burning spark.
[Honey, are you still angry?] Teest’s thoughts came. [Old Hunter was forced to follow his fate, which made you unhappy. The queen is different from what you envision, and you’re still unhappy. It’s really hard to figure out…]
[My arrogant master, do you wish to pull the strings more than I do, to let everything develop according to your wishes? This is somewhat difficult, as living beings will always struggle for themselves.]
Next, his thoughts carried an almost malicious smile. [In any case, Hyacinth was a successful ruler. You see, you qualify as the “chance for change”.]
Nol didn’t know how to respond.
He just suddenly realized that he could breathe again. His mind was cold and numb, as if someone had torn away the layers of fog wrapped around them.
Nol looked at the succubus tribe huddled not far away and then at the current queen lying on the ground. Before, to maintain sanity, Nol could only regard them as the legacy of Queen Hyacinth or a symbol representing misery. This was the first time he seriously looked at them.
Yes, this world is reality.
Here, he was no longer the absolute ruler. Those vivid lives would weave the future on their own and continue their journeys. What he knew was just a dream that failed to happen. He could only…change some things.
…Fortunately, there was still much that could be changed in time.
Instead of condescendingly pitying all beings and manipulating fate, shouldn’t he need to enter this world more humbly?
And compared to a ghost indulged in guilt and obsessed with the past, this world needed a “turning point”, embracing kindness more.
In this long journey, maybe what he should abandon wasn’t empathy, but the arrogance that was attached to countless responsibilities… Queen Hiya’s warning was correct. The rulers were lost. Indeed, one should not go alone.
Nol couldn’t help but look at Teest. Did this guy see through it long ago?
Something that was pressing on his back, cold and heavy, quietly dissipated at this moment.
Right, to maintain the magic, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” couldn’t be taken off for more than ten minutes.
Next, they would return the jewelry to the queen first, and then he would command the Lost Tower to clean up the monsters… Then… after that, he could treat the queen and discuss the plans with the succubi properly.
His thoughts became clear and light as a feather. Nol’s eyes gradually lit up. He straightened his robe and took a deep breath.
He took back the crown from the bowed head of Uncle Ma and the necklace from the two Players. But when he stood in front of Teest and reached out. Teest gently grabbed Nol’s wrist and kissed his palm.
It was a soft, dry kiss.
“For you,” Teest said.
“Eh?”
Nol’s thoughts were still in turmoil, and he couldn’t react for a moment. Teest’s smile was deeper than usual, with a bit more smugness and slyness.
“I’m glad. You don’t look like those boring Players now, but you’re still a bit off,” Teest said vaguely. “Your position is still a bit off.”
…What position?
Nol looked at Teest suspiciously. The latter was skillfully playing with the earring on his fingertip, the scarlet color rolling between his fingers. Suddenly, Teest opened both hands in front of him, and the earring disappeared like magic.
“Surprise!” Teest said with a chuckle.
“The time is almost up. Please put ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ back on!” At the same time, Succubus Doni screamed in horror.
Nol had no time to savor those subtle insights. His hair stood on end, and a layer of cold sweat appeared on his back. If “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” couldn’t be put back in time, the magic protecting the dream would directly shatter.
The succubi were closely watched by the Eternal Church. In the real world, besides the Nightmares, there must be other forces from the Eternal Church. The Investigation Knights led by Eugene were lingering near the Black Forest, closely monitoring the nearby movements.
Once the dream shattered, the Lost Tower would be exposed to everyone’s sight.
Considering that the succubus lair was already empty, and the Lost Tower didn’t resemble a certain castle in Disneyland, Nol didn’t believe that the two religions would start with a friendly talk.
Nol grabbed Teest’s hand and kept groping him. Teest was wearing a thin layer of succubus costume, so the white fabric and pale skin were slightly dazzling under the sunlight. The vivid red earring was hard to hide, but Nol found nothing.
“Teest, stop it.”
Nol anxiously pried open Teest’s fingers, his eyes scanning through the other’s empty gaps. “Quickly take out the earring!”
“No, you don’t look really panicked.” Teest laughed. “So you have other arrangements. You’re just not quite sure—not sure where your position is.”
“I—”
“You’re just missing a gust of wind to push you, honey.” Teest stuck out his tongue, and the red diamond earring rested on the tip. “Now, it’s magic time.”
Whoosh.
The ten-minute limit had arrived, and a slight breathing sound resonated in everyone’s ears.
Nol was stunned, then quickly rushed out of the Lost Tower. He didn’t even have time to close the door.
Before his eyes, the dreamlike blue-purple sky was peeling off crazily. The fog between the trees had disappeared. The soft filter on the trees quickly vanished, revealing the original rich and intense colors.
The space didn’t shake or crack. That layer of dream was like dust floating on reality, dispersing with the breeze.
At this moment, above the massive Lost Tower, an endless blue sky unfolded.
Hundreds of magical fluctuations emanated from every corner. In this second, the news of the destruction of the Dream Edge was about to enter countless ears, and this tower would also pierce countless eyes.
Those Nightmares appeared again in reality, along with the Eternalist blowing shepherd’s whistles. Following them, thousands of cold breaths approached from the depths of the forest. And at the edge of the Black Forest, the flags of the Investigation Knights fluttered in the wind.
Teest followed out at some point, still wearing his succubus costume, his long tail happily swaying behind him.
He stood barefoot on some tentacle at the edge of the black tower facing Nol, happily spreading his arms. Behind him, the dense Black Forest lifted the dust, and complex breaths came rushing from all directions. A chaotic storm was at hand.
“Welcome to the real world!”
Teest announced with a smile. The harsh sunlight enveloped his arms, and his silver hair was fluttering wildly in the high wind.
He whistled to the anxious succubi at the gate. “The queen is still in a coma. As the Crown Prince, I command you—vent and take revenge! From this moment on, all incoming enemies are food.”
“I know you don’t like the way my husband and I do things, so you’d better guard this tower. In case the queen dies inside, you will have to endure the two of us.”
The wrinkled succubi instantly transformed into a group of bitter melons. More than a dozen guards swiftly lined up, already in a position ready to attack.
Nol felt the rapidly approaching forces. Damn. Teest was forcing him to make a move. That guy only gave him time to think of a countermeasure.
Luckily, he just happened to be very good at devising countermeasures.
…And, this meant he could have a good fight with the Eternal Church. Nol found, to some surprise, that his hands were slightly trembling with excitement.
“How fast can you kill?” Nol aggressively questioned the chief culprit of the chaos.
“I’m willing to give you 90% of my power.” Teest smoothed out his messy hair around his ear and said with a laugh, “Of course, provided that you cooperate with me with all your strength and assure that you won’t nag about this afterwards.”
Nol gritted his teeth hard. “I just need to vent. This time, I will forgive… No, after this is over, I will settle accounts with you in a more moderate way.”
As he spoke, Nol dropped the crystal cover holding Kando. The black candle’s vertical eye opened instantly. The black-cover notebook was pressed against his chest, and the staff tapped the ground, causing majestic magic power to spread instantly.
The soil near the Lost Tower roiled, and a skeleton dragon soared into the sky, swirling around the tower. The bones of giant beasts hid in the shadows of the tentacles, with numerous eyes burning with blue fire looking towards the outside world. The tower, originally horrifying, now looked eerie, like Death itself.
Under the leadership of the Eternalists, those strange Nightmares, contrary to their usual behavior, rushed towards the black tower in madness. The first to rush weren’t many. Nol cleanly tilted his staff, and giant tentacles swept across. The strong smell of blood began to spread in reality.
The shattered monster skeletons jumped and reassembled. They stood up shakily with blue fire ignited in their broken eye sockets.
They turned around and rushed towards the Eternalists who were blowing the shepherd’s whistle.
“I’m responsible for all close-range defenses,” Nol explained in a deep voice, aligning with this eerie scene.
“The succubi will primarily deal with the Investigation Knights. Use charm spells to dissolve their will to fight. Try not to cause harm.” He then gave his order straightforwardly. “If possible, try to lead them to the people of the Eternal Church.”
“Anakin, Solo, Malvina. If other enemies slip through, remember to deal with them,” Nol said, raising his voice.
“Why the hell am I involved too?” Uncle Ma yelled back from inside the tower. “Don’t you know to respect the old and love the young*? Besides, with your lousy arrangement, it’s all about defense. Who the hell is going to attack!”
*(尊老爱幼) Idiom referring to a person with good moral character (as respecting the elderly and caring for the young is a tradition virtue in China).
Anakin and Solo showed shocked expressions almost simultaneously. They ran to the door and stared straight at Uncle Ma.
“What are you looking at?!” Uncle Ma bared his teeth to them.
“Someone is responsible for the attack.”
Watching the three connect, the corner of Nol’s mouth ticked upwards.
“…The crown prince of the succubi has decided to take up this responsibility, and as his husband, I will assist him fully.”
Teest laughed loudly, winking at the nervous succubi. He maintained a slightly open arm position, leaning back and falling towards the ground like he was jumping off a cliff.
But he didn’t really hit the ground.
At some point, golden threads were stretched between the trees, and Teest stopped steadily on them. The golden threads bounced slightly due to his weight, and Teest lifted his head, making eye contact with Nol, who was looking down from above.
“I push my beautiful vase back on the table… Back on the table—”
Teest hummed a tune he had improvised. In the shadows, he blew a kiss to Nol, his whole body seemingly floating with delight.
“I deserve the best reward—”
Not far away, the main force of the Eternal Church approached first. The bushes shook, the branches broke, and hostility and killing intent pricked the skin like needles. Teest could even see the dark aura around the Demon King’s minions.
“Get ready!” Nol shouted from the tower. Those blue eyes seemed to have been dusted by the wind, becoming even more pure.
Kinky Translations 