The circular door split in the middle, sliding open to both sides. Behind the door was a spherical room, perhaps designed to maintain the balance of the ship in a weightless space.
A man paced anxiously inside the room like a caged animal, his silver hair slipping onto his shoulders, which he irritably swept back behind his ears. Hearing the door open, he turned his head in surprise, froze for a few seconds, then rushed over.
“Alois!” He embraced the convalescing young man tightly, almost crushing him in his arms. “You’re alive… Thank goodness, you’re okay…”
“I’m okay…” Alois murmured. He felt the strength and warmth of Joshua’s arms, which gradually warmed his icy body, melting the winter ice in his veins, making his blood surge once again.
Only at that moment did he truly realize that he had survived.
He hugged Joshua’s back and lifted his head to kiss his lips. The assassin responded passionately, sucking on his tongue nonstop, dominatingly stealing his breath until Alois was almost out of air before letting him go.
“Leo told me you were badly injured.” The kiss slid from his lips to his cheek, then to his neck. “Do you know how worried I was?”
“It’s all healed…” Alois tilted his head back, exposing his throat to him like prey to a predator.
“Really?” Joshua murmured ambiguously in his ear. “We need to check that properly sometime…”
Just as the two were about to become even more entangled, Leo deliberately coughed loudly. “You guys, mind the occasion.” He awkwardly looked away. “There are many people in the reception room waiting to see Alois. Keep it together.”
Only then did Joshua reluctantly let go.
“Many people?” Alois blinked. “Is everyone on the Socrates?”
“Yes.” Joshua nodded. “We were almost intercepted by the Duke’s rebels halfway. Luckily the Socrates was nearby.” He frowned as he spoke, as if being rescued was not a cause for celebration but rather a misfortune.
“What’s wrong?” Alois sensed his discomfort. “You don’t seem happy?”
Leo stepped between them. “Neo Athens is a hundred thousand light-years away,” he explained. “That’s far. Their carriers never leave their home planet. That they sent the Socrates all this way…” The AI paused, giving the silver-haired assassin a meaningful look. “They came specifically for Joshua.”
“Why?” Alois blurted out.
“…Who knows.” Joshua’s answer was evasive. Alois felt he was hiding something, but before he could press further, the assassin was pulling him towards another door on the opposite side of the spherical room. Leo silently followed.
The door led to a much larger spherical chamber, much more spacious than the previous room, decorated luxuriously. It resembled more of a lavish salon than a reception room. As soon as they entered, Alois heard the high laughter of the AI Beatrice, who was vividly speaking to a group of people like a skilled orator, and her audience were the surviving crew of the ship Dream of a Cold Night.
Their arrival coincided with the end of Beatrice’s speech (Alois suspected she knew they were coming and timed it accordingly), she gracefully bowed and turned toward them, prompting the audience to look their way.
“My God, Alois!” The first to shout was the cook, Celia, “You’re alright!”
The people snapped out of their reverie, realizing their companion had miraculously survived and now stood before them. Ibb was the first to step forward, giving Alois a bear hug, nearly knocking him down with his enthusiastic embrace.
“Thank God, you’re safe!” the mechanic choked up.
Then, one by one, the rest came forward to hug Alois, the girls kissing his cheeks and playfully making faces at Joshua, who pretended not to see while he pouted.
Everyone tacitly avoided mentioning Joanna, as if the captain hadn’t had an accident and was still alive somewhere in the world. This thought intensified Alois’s sorrow. The people before him had spent more time with Joanna, some even from the beginning. They must be even more heartbroken. Yet everyone feigned joy, burying their grief deep within.
They never mourned the past; they only praised the future.
After embracing each person, Joshua quietly grabbed Alois’s hand and pulled him slightly back, guarding him like a greedy dragon hoarding his treasured possession.
Leonard managed a reluctant smile. “Now that everyone’s happily reunited, let’s discuss serious matters. What are your plans going forward?”
His words cast a shadow of dismay across everyone’s faces. They had been avoiding this question, delaying day by day as if by doing so they could forever forget Joanna’s demise. But someday they would have to face this cruel reality.
“I’ve already notified Milantu.” Beatrice spoke with a clear voice. “No response yet. I think they need some time to adjust to this… bad news.” She took a deep breath, trying to speak calmly. “I think the Leonard on that side should be able to calm everyone’s emotions well.”
“…That’s not necessarily the case,” Leo muttered.
“The Socrates can spare a small ship to take you back to Milantu,” Beatrice added. “Rest assured, even the most ruthless rebels wouldn’t dare attack a ship from Neo Athens.”
A low murmur of discussion arose in the reception room. Everyone looked at each other, undecided, and finally turned helplessly to Leo. When Joanna was alive, she was the undisputed master of the ship Lady of the Night, and Leonard, conveying her orders and advising as a consultant, was more like the embodiment of the Lady of the Night itself; he was also a servant of Milantu, exercising leadership in Joanna’s absence.
When Joanna left, Leo became their mainstay. He sighed resignedly. A machine designed to serve humans was now forced to make decisions for them.
“We return to Milantu,” he said. “The rest… We’ll discuss after we get back.”
This was undoubtedly the best decision they could make at the moment. No one objected.
“I’ll notify the crew to prepare the ship,” Beatrice said, “But there’s one thing you must know.” She elegantly turned to Joshua. “Mr. Joshua Plank must accompany the Socrates to Neo Athens. We came all this way just to find you. We cannot return without achieving our purpose.”
Joshua turned his head, squeezing Alois’s hand tightly.
“There’s no one I know there anymore,” he said sternly. “I have nothing to do with Neo Athens.”
“It truly saddens me to hear you say that.” Beatrice covered her mouth. “It was your teacher—former Governor Giorgione who ordered us to find you.”
The assassin looked surprised. “Impossible! He’s not…”
“Governor Giorgione has managed to live till today through genetic modification and cryo-preservation,” the blonde girl said softly. “He has always dreamed of welcoming the late Kester or you. Don’t you want to see Governor Giorgione?”
Joshua was silent, his expression dark. He held Alois’s hand tightly, letting him feel the intense struggle within. Although Alois didn’t know who Giorgione was or what he meant to Joshua, intuition told him their relationship was profound, worth crossing a hundred thousand light-years and deploying Neo Athens’s carrier.
He leaned close to Joshua’s ear, whispering, “Joshua, I’ll go with you.”
Joshua seemed even less pleased. “This has nothing to do with you,” he grumbled.
“That’s right.” Beatrice tilted her head. “We’re looking for Joshua Plank. Not anyone else.”
The assassin glared at her, his black-gold eyes blazing like flames from hell, startling the AI into stepping back, her crisis logic calculator nearly issuing an alert.
“He’s not ‘anyone else’,” Joshua declared coldly. “He’s my family.”
The blonde girl trembled, turning away in anger. “We can… take an extra person…”
Joshua then proudly compromised, “I’ll go to Neo Athens, with Alois.”
Ibb Descartes timidly intervened, “Aren’t you returning to Milantu?”
“Of course, we are. Just… taking a slight detour.”
“That’s a really big detour ‘accidentally’,” Beatrice said sarcastically. Joshua glared, and she sheepishly shrank her neck.
In October 1416 by the standard calendar, a month infuriating for students because their history exams always revolved around this special period. In October 1416, Duke Winnet raised the banner of rebellion, “Mad Queen” Joanna Begrel fell like a shooting star, ending the “Mythic Era” of the galaxy, and a ship from Neo Athens mysteriously appeared at the Empire’s border, speeding back to its home planet. At that moment, no one knew the purpose of its appearance. Thousands of years later, historians might open the documents, guessing its mission from its voyage log and jump trajectory. They would be surprised to find a few familiar names on the passenger list—names that shone with unparalleled immortal brilliance in the history books.
Alois’s vision darkened, and a large amount of blood gushed from his mouth, staining the inside of his helmet, blurring his view. His organs spasmed continuously, each convulsion pushing out more blood. He felt cold all over, his fingers gripping the control stick stiff as ice. He knew this was a normal reaction to being hit by infrasound waves, and he comforted himself by thinking that as long as he kept breathing and called for help soon, he would survive. But the severe pain and cold repeatedly dashed his optimism.
A sudden, nameless fear surged in his heart. He was going to die here, in the vast, empty space of the universe, alone, without a living soul beside him.
‘No, that won’t do,’ he thought. He hadn’t completed the mission given by the captain; he needed to ensure his companions escaped safely; he needed to return to Joshua…
If he were the protagonist in some novel, now would be the time for a miraculous weapon to descend from the heavens to rescue him from peril.
He refilled the cockpit with air, then removed his helmet, finally clearing his vision.
Then, the radar indicated that an immeasurably large object had appeared ahead—through the optical screen, space seemed to warp, and a massive gray-white spaceship emerged from a jump state, slowly transforming from a sphere, its struts and outer layers unfolding like a flower blooming in the starry sky.
Alois’s lips moved. He recognized this spaceship; he had seen it countless times on television—it was one of the three carriers Neo Athens prided itself on, the Socrates.
He loosened his grip on the control stick, allowing himself to fall into darkness.
Alois was groggy and dreamt a lot. Sometimes he was vaguely aware that he was dreaming, and at other times he couldn’t tell whether he was in a dream or reality. His dreams were noisy and chaotic, with many people talking, but the noise made it impossible for him to hear anything clearly.
He had a vague vision of Darius swinging his fists at him. Darius, still a teenager then, was the unrivaled top student at school, always carrying an arrogant demeanor. Then Darius turned into Annot. The Prince had a faint smile with Alveira silently standing behind him. Soon, the siblings transformed into the three pirate siblings, chirping about something he couldn’t make out.
After a long while, the three’s figures also vanished. Alois wandered aimlessly in the dark, feeling helpless like a child, walking endlessly until a silvery light appeared before him. At first, he thought it was the Bard’s graceful, white figure, but it turned out to be the silver-haired Joshua.
He opened his mouth to call Joshua’s name, but all that came out was blood. The blood dripped to the ground, soaking a large patch of darkness, the intense smell of blood permeating the surroundings. Then the blood transformed into a fluttering red flag, then into Joanna’s red hair.
The female pirate looked at him under the starry sky, silent, just staring quietly. Alois stood face to face with her, seemingly close enough to touch, yet separated by an entire galaxy.
It felt like centuries had passed, yet it seemed just a moment. Joanna gave him a comforting smile, turned, and stepped into the endless dark.
Alois opened his eyes, unsure if he was still dreaming or truly awake. He tried moving his arms; sensation gradually returned to his body, and the lingering pain told him he was still alive.
So he began to look around. He lay on a hard platform, covered by a transparent lid. He tried to lift his arm but found it obstructed by something like water, hampering his movement. This must be a medical pod, he thought. Am I saved? Where am I?
He mustered all his strength and tapped on the transparent lid, making a “clang” sound.
“It’s good to see you awake,” a crisp female voice came through. It was a stranger’s voice, one Alois had never heard before. He turned his sore neck and saw a young girl standing outside the medical pod. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen years old, her dazzling golden hair shining brightly. She wore a black, elaborate gown, somewhat similar to Leo’s but more ornate, like a custom-made evening dress.
“Who… are you?” Alois rasped, his voice echoing weirdly in the healing fluid, making it unclear whether the girl could understand him.
The girl smiled faintly. “I am Beatrice, the artificial intelligence serving this ship—” She gestured to indicate her location. “The Socrates.”
It took several minutes for Alois’s sluggish brain cells to search his memory for “Beatrice”. Yes, she was one of the three AIs of Neo Athens, named after the beautiful angel in Dante’s “Divine Comedy” who guided the poet into heaven.
She said this was the Socrates? One of Neo Athens’s three carriers?
“How… did I end up here?”
“You were severely injured in battle,” the AI explained, “and just as the Socrates was passing nearby, it rescued you.”
Alois faintly remembered the giant spaceship he saw before he passed out. “What about my companions? The captain? What about Joanna? Was she saved too? How is she?”
A trace of sadness flickered across Beatrice’s face. “You were very badly injured.” She sidestepped the question about Joanna, giving Alois an ominous feeling. “You need to rest. Once you recover, I will tell you everything.”
“No! I want to know now!” he roared, pounding on the transparent lid, which remained immovable. The projection of the girl AI suddenly vanished. Alois smelled a sweet scent, then his limbs grew incredibly heavy, strength draining from his body, eyelids weighed down as if bearing immense weight. He thought, I’m lying in healing fluid. They must have mixed some sedative in it. He couldn’t even resist as he drifted back into sleep.
This time, he didn’t dream.
When he woke up again, nearly all the pain had disappeared, but he felt extremely listless, unwilling to move. The healing fluid still surrounded him. It seemed the doctors on the Socrates had no intention of letting him out of the pod yet.
“Beatrice?” Alois tried calling the AI’s name.
Instead, a familiar figure appeared before him—purple long hair, ornate scholar’s robe—it was Leonard.
“You’re awake.” Leonard’s face showed no joy, as if Alois’s survival was something not worth celebrating.
“Leo?” Alois was very surprised. “Why are you here?”
“They found a chip on you,” Leo replied dully. “I’m now loaded onto this ship.” He irritably waved his hand. “Stuck with a nagging woman!”
He was probably referring to Beatrice.
“Leo, how is everyone else?” Alois asked the question that had been lingering in his mind. “What about Joshua? The Captain?”
“Joshua is fine.” Leo was more forthcoming than Beatrice. “Everyone’s fine… except for the Captain.”
Alois shuddered. “The Captain… What happened to her? Is she injured? Or…”
“Don’t ask,” Leonard interrupted him. “Stop talking. Don’t say anything.”
Alois took a deep breath, feeling the healing fluid fill his lungs. He wanted to cry out but couldn’t even make a sound.
This can’t be. The Captain couldn’t possibly be dead. She’s Joanna Begrel, the invincible legend of the galaxy. How could she die!
Alois hoped this was just another of his many nightmares. He stared at Leo, hoping to see a hint of deception on the latter’s face, hoping Leo would suddenly burst out laughing and say, “Ha, you believe that?” hoping Joanna would suddenly appear from somewhere, mercilessly mocking his naivety…
But there was nothing.
With his head throbbing, he fell asleep again in the sedative-laden healing fluid. He woke up a few times, vaguely hearing voices around him, but he was too weak to ascertain who they were and what they were saying.
Days passed in a daze, and when Alois awoke from a dream for the umpteenth time, he found the lid of the healing pod open, lying stiffly on the platform, dressed in a sleeveless hospital gown. Next to the pillow, neatly folded, was a set of clothes, not his own.
He cautiously sat up, moved his spine, and realized he felt no pain at all.
Leonard, hands tucked in his sleeves, appeared beside him, startling him.
“I was just about to wake you up,” the AI said expressionlessly. “Since you’re awake, come down and walk around.”
Alois stepped onto the cold floor barefoot. After standing up, he felt dizzy and nearly fell back onto the platform. It took a while to stabilize. Leo looked helpless. “Be careful,” he said. “You’re still a bit anemic.”
“Okay.” Alois steadied himself, waited for the dizziness to subside, then picked up the neatly folded clothes next to him, compared them against his body—they fit perfectly, clearly specially prepared for him by the Socrates. After dressing, he discovered that the clothes were actually a robe, similar to Leo’s but much simpler in style.
“Come with me. Someone is waiting for you.”
Following Leo out of the medical room, they faced a circular corridor leading to a large circular door. Leo walked to the door, glanced back at Alois as if urging him to hurry up.
“Who is waiting for me?” Alois approached him nervously.
Leonard showed the first smile since their reunion. “Of course, it’s the person you want to see the most.”
“Alois! The enemy has deployed the second squadron!” Joanna’s command came through the speaker. “You retreat first. Go protect the others. I’ll hold them off!”
“Understood!” At this moment, arguing with the captain about who should stay or go was pointless. On the battlefield, a moment’s hesitation could lead to drastically different outcomes. He had to trust the captain’s judgment. The enemy in front of him was indeed troublesome, sticking like gum on the sole of a shoe, impossible to shake off. He regretted that Titia wasn’t here;. With her and her brothers’ exquisite skills, dealing with the Empire Army would be a breeze.
On the other side, Joanna shot down an enemy fighter, suddenly turning the tide. The Bard traced a beautiful silver-white trajectory through the blackness of space, like a comet dragging a brilliant tail across the sky, dazzling to the point of being blinding. She elegantly brushed past the Empire fighters, mocking the slow and dull men, who could only spend their lives chasing after her silhouette.
Laser beams fell like rain on the enemy fighter. Alois swiftly retreated, leaving the battlefield to Joanna. In an instant, the white Bard dominated, spinning the troublesome enemy around, who couldn’t even touch her.
“Get out of here!” Joanna ordered again. “Don’t let them catch up to the escape pods!”
“Yes, Captain!” Alois maneuvered the black fighter away from Joanna, reluctantly looking back at the silver craft. “Captain, if you can’t win, just surrender. The Empire Army treats its prisoners well.” He repeated what Joanna had once said to him.
“Bullshit! Is that something you should say! Watch your salary!” Joanna laughed and scolded, “Just boosting the enemy’s morale, undermining your own dignity! Could I possibly lose?”
Ah, of course not. Alois smiled to himself. What was he worried about? How could there be an opponent the captain couldn’t defeat? She was the undefeated myth of the galaxy.
Another fighter was shot down, and the squadron leader cursed through gritted teeth. The situation with the second squadron wasn’t looking good either; three out of five fighters were down, and another was severely damaged. The white Bard and the black Godot II were like reapers from hell, wielding sharp scythes, mercilessly reaping lives.
Fear enveloped the squadron leader like a thick soup. His hands trembled, barely able to grip the control stick.
“First squadron!” A dying cry came through the speaker. “Request to launch subsonic wave missiles!”
The squadron leader’s eyes widened. “That’s banned!”
Subsonic wave missiles, as the name suggested, used sound waves as weapons against enemies. Although the squadron leader’s fighter was equipped with them, they weren’t to be used lightly because subsonic wave missiles were considered “inhumane” and had long been explicitly banned by the Empire. Launching one would require a thirty-thousand-word report.
“Life is more important than a report!” the teammate insisted.
The squadron leader clenched his fist around the control stick. “Although it’s a bit despicable, tactics are just trickery after all…” he consoled himself and unlocked the system’s restrictions on the subsonic wave missiles.
Another enemy fighter was shot down, and Alois whistled. He turned to go back and support Joanna, but before he could locate the captain, a sharp alarm pierced through his ears.
“Subsonic wave missile?” Alois was dumbfounded. These rebels really dared to use subsonic wave missiles? In modern space warfare, ships would normally evacuate air to prevent subsonic waves from harming the crew. Only in fighter combat, because the pilot’s body must contact the craft, did the sound transmitted through solids cause more damage. During the first Galactic War, subsonic wave missiles were the most feared weapons, claiming countless pilots’ lives. When Emperor Nasir I ascended the throne, he listed them as prohibited, never to be used lightly.
Alois quickly activated the air pump, draining the air from the cockpit and isolation layer, but it was too late. He felt the cockpit violently shake, followed by his body trembling uncontrollably. It was as if something exploded inside him, his organs felt like they were being squeezed into a pulp by an invisible hand. He opened his mouth but could only cough up blood. The blood smeared on his helmet’s visor, blocking his view.
He struggled to see through the blood, barely noticing a white shadow flickering on the optical screen, like the first ray of dawn piercing the darkness, burning his eyesight. From that moment, and for many years to come as Alois approached the merciful embrace of the Lord, he would remember this scene—like the night he escaped from Hecate, a woman descended in a Gondola from the sky, her hair blazing like a tuft of flames—that dazzling white craft was like a ghostly apparition, a brilliant meteor streaking across the night sky, weaving incredible trajectories before his eyes.
The Bard danced among the stars, striking from unexpected directions, confounding the enemy. Joanna laughed gleefully as she pressed the missile launch button. It had been many years since she had fought a battle so exhilarating. Since becoming a captain, she rarely touched the controls of a fighter, almost forgetting the feel. Today’s formidable opponent brought back the thrill of her youth, when she roamed among star clusters at the age of nineteen, pirating every passing ship, returning laden with trophies amid showers of bullets. Unrestrained, free, supreme, crushing anyone who dared challenge her—this was the life she yearned for!
She hadn’t expected that after so many years, she would rediscover this familiar feeling. Perhaps it was the formidable enemy, or perhaps the desperate situation of fighting with her back against the wall, that brought Joanna the joy of battle she hadn’t felt in a long time.
She couldn’t help but silently thank the all-knowing, all-powerful Lord above for allowing her to live such a carefree life in her remaining years, to do everything she wanted to do, meet everyone she wanted to meet, more free and joyful than anyone because she lived according to her own desires, bowing to no one and nothing, thus without regrets or remorse.
“Is this really the life I wanted…?”
As if recognizing her true desires for the first time, touching that hidden craving deep within her soul, Joanna momentarily lifted the burdens from her shoulders. Not as the captain of the Lady of the Night, not as the leader of the pirate legion, but simply as Joanna Begrel, herself, fighting alone.
—And yet, never lonely.
She allowed the cabin to refill with air, then tore off her helmet. Blood from her lips splattered in the air, forming little red beads. Impatiently, she flicked away these droplets of blood and reengaged in the fight. Her insides ached, crying out to their master, but she ignored them. What was pain compared to the battle before her? It was utterly inconsequential!
The fighter that had launched the subsonic wave missile was now a pile of dust, annihilated by her retaliatory strike, leaving not even a trace of bone or ash. The only remaining enemy was the one who had tirelessly battled Alois. Joanna knew this was the most formidable of the foes. She licked her lips, tasting the salty blood, as sweet as the wine of victory for her in that moment.
The movements of operating the fighter were deeply ingrained in her, becoming instinctive, executed without thought. Then Joanna saw a vision. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was a vision. Although she knew she was still on the battlefield, yet other scenes appeared before her eyes. She had heard that at the moment of death, one’s life would flash before their eyes—was she about to die?
Lieutenant Leslie Faraday let out a scream he wasn’t even aware of. The laser beams from the Bard struck his craft, melting through the hull and scorching his skin, muscles, and bones through his spacesuit. He screamed and laughed triumphantly as his fighter lost control. The radar detector also melted in the intense heat, and he could no longer see the distribution of friend and foe, but it no longer mattered. He watched through the optical screen as the large troop formation behind him strangely parted, making way like a crowd for a king. Cleared behind the parted path was the fleet’s mothership, its main cannon charging with energy, causing the remaining alarms in the cockpit to wail madly. Lieutenant Leslie couldn’t distinguish between his own screams and the alarms. One of his eyes had melted; the other was painfully seared by the heat, yet he refused to close it. He saw the light stream from the mothership’s main cannon brush past him, engulfing the detestable, ghost-like silver-white craft.
Joanna Begrel, go to hell before me! Leslie thought nearly ecstatically. This is my victory!
The dazzling light stream finally claimed his last bit of vision. What followed was a sea of blood red, then an endless darkness.
Joanna was sure it was a hallucination.
She saw herself at fifteen, receiving her first fighter, dancing with joy, telling everyone she could, wishing all to share her elation.
She saw herself at twenty, obtaining a strange chip from a black market merchant, inserting it into a terminal, and a young man with purple hair in a long robe appeared from the hologram. She asked, “Who are you?” The young man replied with a deferential yet teasing demeanor, “My name is Leonard.”
She saw her former first officer come to her with a look of distress on his face. “Captain, my dog had puppies. We can’t keep them all. Do you want to take one home?” The officer’s puppies were squirming in a cushioned basket, their eyes not yet open. Seeing the dogs reminded her of a scientist who liked experimenting on dogs, prompting her spontaneous suggestion. “Let’s just call it Pavlov then.”
She saw herself standing under the black eagle banner of the Empire, with the Queen herself awarding her a medal. Behind her, people roared like a tsunami, singing her praises, worshiping her like a god.
She saw herself in the shipyards of Neo Athens, where a huge curtain pulled back to reveal a splendid black hull behind it. She still remembered the thrill of that moment, her heart surging like a young girl in love.
She saw herself setting foot on the barren lands of Milantu for the first time, the light of the red giant star stretched like a scar across the sky. She turned around; all her surviving companions stood behind her, quietly staring at her. She spread her arms wide and proclaimed, “From today, this is our home!”
She saw herself sitting in the captain’s chair on the bridge, her own throne from where she commanded her fleet on paths of glory.
She lowered her head and noticed on the radar that the green dots representing her side were reduced to just her, while all the enemy red dots had vanished. This indicated that Alois had successfully disengaged from the combat area and caught up with the escape pods.
And so, Joanna smiled again.
She had never feared death. Death was merely a door. She would pass through that door to another place, where she would reunite with her companions who had gone before her, gather her subordinates, and once more raise her crimson banner to conquer the worlds beyond.
Fang Xiu casually picked up the Luoyang shovel and drew an incomplete circle around Fourth Master’s pile of flesh. Then, he removed the hair ring from his finger and buried it at the missing corner of the circle.
With only one arm left to work with, Fang Xiu’s movements were a bit clumsy, but his expression remained focused. Despite the rain soaking the paper money at his feet and the wails of evil spirits nearby, none of it seemed to matter.
“Bai Shuangying, the best part of the show is about to begin. Want to enjoy it with some snacks?” Fang Xiu asked cheerfully after finishing his task.
Bai Shuangying accepted the invitation. With a flick of his hand, he pulled Fourth Master’s soul out and found a nearby gravestone to sit on. The soul transformed into three milky-white orbs, which Bai Shuangying held in his arms as if cradling popcorn, ready to watch a movie.
He tore off a small piece and popped it into his mouth, savoring the rich flavor, realizing that Fourth Master must have carried the weight of many lives and blood debts.
“Delicious,” Bai Shuangying said with a pleased smile.
“Eat as much as you want. There’s plenty more where that came from,” Fang Xiu said, wiping his nose, looking quite content.
Then, turning to Cheng Songyun, he said, “Cheng Jie, touch the corpse’s hand. The item should be nearby.”
Cheng Songyun, barely able to think, mechanically obeyed.
As soon as her hand touched the corpse, she realized something was wrong. The skeleton’s shoulder joint had an odd fork, and near the neckbone, there was a noticeable growth, like an underdeveloped skull. And indeed, in the hands of the skeleton, she found something.
The corpse’s three hands were clasped together at the chest, as if the deceased had been holding it with great care at the moment of death. What she found was an icy-cold bead, about the size of a marble, blackish-red in color, dirty, and completely dull.
Even without any knowledge of metaphysics, Cheng Songyun could feel that this object was special.
…This was the “E” of Weishan Village.
Right, she had to destroy the “E” quickly.
Cheng Songyun lifted the Luoyang shovel and brought it down hard on the bead. There was a sharp sound, but the shovel merely vibrated in her hands, and the bead remained completely unscathed, not even showing the slightest mark.
Fang Xiu approached the bewildered Cheng Songyun, bent down, and picked up the bead. He examined it closely and even sniffed it.
“Well done, kid—!” Shan Hunzi laughed wickedly upon seeing that the “E” had been found. “I knew you were up to something! Nicely done, really nice!”
He pulled out a strip of cloth covered in scriptures and casually threw it into the air. The cloth unraveled and formed a glowing golden protective circle. The vengeful spirits outside tried to breach it, but they were repeatedly repelled by the glowing light.
“This Silk of Merits can hold them off for half an hour. Now, give it to me,” Shan Hunzi said, extending his hand. “To destroy the ‘E’, you have to understand its true form before you can take the right action. We don’t have time for research, but I’ve got a Samadhi True Fire talisman that can burn it up.”
“No,” Fang Xiu refused flatly. “Fourth Master was in such a rush to destroy the ‘E’ himself. That must mean there’s some benefit to doing it personally.”
Shan Hunzi’s eyes flickered, and he suddenly changed the topic. “Alright, then explain what just happened. According to you, the mutated people weren’t live sacrifices, but the Gods of Weishan… How did they become the Gods of Weishan?”
“Mai Zi shared survival tips with us, Doctor provided food and treatment, and Cheng Jie always stood up to protect others… They all insisted on being kind to others, and then they transformed to look like the gods,” Fang Xiu explained confidently. “If something looks like a god, acts like a god, and bad things happen when you offend it, then isn’t it a god?”
Shan Hunzi: “?”
Wait, the statue of the god looked like that, and you just assumed they were good gods?
“Apparently, becoming a God of Weishan isn’t that complicated. You just have to accumulate virtue. The shrine has that couplet, ‘Refrain from all evil, and practice all good deeds.’” Fang Xiu paused. “The spirits here reverently worship the gods, so to the ‘E’, the concept of the God of Weishan is crucial… Cheng Jie and the others didn’t break any taboos, so they became part of the taboo itself.”
Shan Hunzi chewed over his words but couldn’t detect any deceit.
So, becoming a god was about accumulating virtue? No wonder Fang Xiu was so keen on letting Cheng Songyun become a god. This kid hadn’t done much good at all, and even he, a seasoned villain, was a bit taken aback by Fang Xiu’s behavior.
Thinking this, Shan Hunzi glanced surreptitiously at the protective circle, noted that the spirits’ attacks had weakened his talisman, and the golden glow was growing dim.
He shifted his gaze back to Cheng Songyun. “But what about the ‘offending the God of Weishan’ part? Nothing happened when Fourth Master pushed her.”
“Cheng Jie is indeed a God of Weishan,” Fang Xiu said. “But so is the one buried in that grave.”
Shan Hunzi was shocked. “Even the dead ones count? But I took Mai Zi’s weapons back then…”
“The ‘E’ operates on strict rules and can’t distinguish intent. It only recognizes actions like discarding gifts, arson, or theft as inherently rude and offensive.”
Fang Xiu looked at the open coffin. Rain was soaking the skeleton inside, making the bones wet and shiny.
“Mai Zi wasn’t buried. You took her weapons but didn’t disturb the corpse. The ‘E’ couldn’t tell if it was theft or you helping to clean up her remains. That kind of ambiguous action doesn’t violate the taboo.”
“But digging up graves and exposing corpses definitely does.”
At the mention of “grave digging”, Cheng Songyun shivered.
“It’s okay, Cheng Jie,” Fang Xiu reassured her. “Even when Doctor cut off his own limbs, nothing happened. The God of Weishan comes with exemptions.”
“But we can’t destroy the ‘E’. It’s indestructible. What do we do now…?” Cheng Songyun was in disbelief that the two of them could still chat so calmly while the vengeful spirits outside were furiously attacking the protective circle. After just five or six minutes, the golden light of the cloth was already fading.
Old Man Fu clung to the edge of the protective circle, barely ten paces away from them. The cracks on his face had turned into large holes, and the characters for “Blessing” on his robes had changed from black to bright red.
“The Blessing have fallen—” he wailed in a piercing voice.
“We have to hurry!” Cheng Songyun couldn’t bear to look anymore and urged Fang Xiu.
But Fang Xiu acted as if he hadn’t heard her. He rubbed the jade Buddha on his chest and continued his conversation with Shan Hunzi. “Since we still have time, I’ve got two questions for you. In exchange, I’ll let you handle the ‘E’.”
Shan Hunzi cursed under his breath.
If not for Fang Xiu wearing that jade Buddha and Cheng Songyun being protected by the taboo, he would have already killed them both. But now, he couldn’t touch either of them and had no choice but to negotiate.
No matter. He had already made his plans.
He’d said the protective talisman would last half an hour, but it wouldn’t hold out for even fifteen minutes. Once the barrier collapsed without warning, Fang Xiu would have no choice but to hand over the ‘E’ to survive.
Lying tricksters like this brat needed to have their rhythm disrupted and be given no time to think.
“First question: Why are the spirits so obsessed with mimicking the villagers?” Fang Xiu asked calmly, unfazed by the impending danger.
Fang Xiu still cared about that? Shan Hunzi thought. Perfect, just the distraction he needed.
“For humans to ascend to immortality, they must cultivate virtue. For ghosts to ascend, they must cultivate an ‘E’. Spirits can’t follow the righteous path, so they have to rely on what already exists.”
“The ‘E’ is like the finest spiritual artifact. If it doesn’t recognize you as its master, it’s useless. But if it does, you can use it however you want.”
Shan Hunzi glanced at the protective circle again, deliberately slowing his speech.
“Spirits can’t understand human nature, so they can’t grasp the true cause and effect of the ‘E’. That’s why they strictly follow its rules, painstakingly acting their parts. The first one to be fully accepted by the ‘E’ will ascend to become a ghost immortal.”
“So, the spirits are all pretending to be the dutiful children, hoping to inherit the old man’s estate?” Fang Xiu asked.
Shan Hunzi: “……”
Shan Hunzi: “Something like that.”
Fang Xiu chuckled. “So it’s a scam. No wonder they’re so angry.”
After all, Old Man Fu had tricked his way into becoming the village chief. He must’ve put a lot of effort into it. Cutting off someone’s path to immortality is like killing their parents, and in this case, it was cutting off their divine ascension.
“Second question: Once the ‘E’ is destroyed, will the survivors be protected by the underworld? These spirits don’t look like they’ll let us off easily.”
“There’s definitely protection. These bodies are specially made by the underworld, like disposable spiritual vessels.”
Since it was about what happened after the ‘E’ was destroyed, Shan Hunzi saw no point in lying.
“As soon as the ‘E’ is gone, the bodies will activate, and no spirit will be able to harm us.”
“Thanks for the answers. But since you set me up from the start, trying to force me to hand over the ‘E’, I won’t be giving it to you.”
Fang Xiu smiled. “And stop staring at the protective circle. It’s pointless. I know how to destroy the ‘E’.”
Shan Hunzi’s gaze hardened. “Kid, this ‘E’ destroyed the entire Weishan Village. Its core must be incredibly evil. What makes you think a newbie like you can destroy it barehanded?”
Something’s wrong. Shan Hunzi thought, What has Fang Xiu figured out?
Shan Hunzi desperately tried to recall every detail. From the three taboos to the eerie atmosphere of the festival. The couplets in the shrines were more terrifying each time, and the spirits along the way grew more and more sinister… Fang Xiu’s lies to Fourth Master were half-truths. There had to be a clue in his words…
“Don’t bother thinking about it.”
Fang Xiu toyed with the round ‘E’ in his hands, his gaze sweeping over the furious Old Man Fu just a few paces away.
“You and Fourth Master assumed a tragedy happened in Weishan Village, believing the brightest ‘Eastern Shrine’ was the beginning and the darkest ‘Southern Shrine’ was the end. But from the very start, you had the direction reversed.”
“I just played along with your assumptions and spun the truth ‘upside down’. That’s all.”
Fang Xiu’s smiling gaze shifted to Bai Shuangying.
Under Bai Shuangying’s curious watch, Fang Xiu slowly raised the ‘E’ to his mouth and bit down gently.
Crunch.
“It really is candy,” Fang Xiu muttered. “Strawberry-flavored.”
He had caught a faint scent of artificial flavor earlier. The inheritance of a beautiful story, after all, wouldn’t be too bad.
As Old Man Fu roared in shock and anger, the ‘E’ shattered in Fang Xiu’s mouth. A violent storm of dark energy erupted from him, pinning everyone in place.
The wind whipped up the books and papers inside the coffin, and one decayed piece of paper was caught by the gust, flying out of the coffin.
Bai Shuangying remained seated on the gravestone, his long hair unmoved by the storm. He lowered his head, watching the burial paper drift down.
It landed in the mud, slowly soaking through with rainwater. The words were slightly smudged, but the contents were still readable.
You know that mountain spirits are also gods. At the foot of Weishan, the trees grow dense and somber.
Pitiful abandoned children, discarded like an old shoe, ascends to immortality, dressed in blue robes.
The village’s boys and girls are its guests, honored ones inside and outside the shrine.
Upholding virtue and punishing evil with clear judgment, and henceforth, justice is seen in the hearts of men.
—A gift from Village Chief Sun Ruyi to the God of Weishan.
Fang Xiu saw this poem in another way.
The moment he bit down on the ‘E’, the countless karmic threads it carried rushed into his mind—its creation, its memories, and the day everything began.
For a moment, Fang Xiu could hear the cicadas of midsummer.
When Cheng Songyun pushed the door open and came out, she looked completely dazed. Seeing her unharmed, Shan Hunzi let out a surprised sound, while Fourth Master thoughtfully stroked his chin.
As the three men watched, Cheng Songyun stammered through a description of the situation inside the shrine. While she spoke, she kept glancing at Fang Xiu, but he remained silent.
He appeared deep in thought, fingers subtly playing with the edge of Bai Shuangying’s sleeve. In reality, he was pondering a curious problem.
Bai Shuangying’s clothing transformed along with him from a non-Newtonian fluid into human form, which explained its strange texture. Since the clothes were part of Bai Shuangying, did they have any sense of touch?
Fang Xiu pinched the sleeve lightly. Bai Shuangying didn’t react.
He pinched it again, and still no response.
On the third pinch, Bai Shuangying wordlessly reached out and pinched Fang Xiu’s earlobe in return.
…Apparently, there was some sensation after all. The study of spirits was truly fascinating, Fang Xiu thought.
“Ha!” Fourth Master suddenly clapped his hands. “I’ve figured out the third taboo.”
Shan Hunzi: “Not many of us left, so share it quickly.”
Manpower was indeed scarce, and after hesitating for a couple of seconds, Fourth Master decided to speak.
“I heard that during mountain god rituals, people have to imitate the god’s appearance.”
Fourth Master pointed at Cheng Songyun. “She’s transformed to look like the god’s image, which must mean she’s been marked as a ‘live sacrifice’. Live sacrifices belong to the God of Weishan, so Old Man Fu wouldn’t dare harm her.”
Shan Hunzi: “How does that work?”
“The third taboo is that you can’t harm a live sacrifice,” Fourth Master said solemnly.
Fang Xiu gave a small, surprised cough, blinking his eyes.
“That guy surname Fang said that ‘guests’ who slack off in their duties are chosen as live sacrifices. We don’t know much about the woman, but Doctor was sloppy in his duties, and this one just messed up our food supplies. Every one of them is useless.”
Fourth Master continued.
“And remember, the woman was stabbed through the heart, and Doctor hanged himself. If they had violated the taboos, they would have died the same way. But in fact, the person who stabbed the woman had the strangest death. She turned into a pile of flesh. That’s because he violated the taboo by harming a live sacrifice.”
“…It all fits. It all makes sense! It’s definitely the resentment of the live sacrifices that created the ‘E’!”
Fourth Master got more and more worked up, spitting as he spoke. “Damn it, I finally figured out the cause and effect!”
Fang Xiu muttered, “But wasn’t there a rule about protecting the villagers…?”
“Protect?” Fourth Master sneered at him. “The villagers here survive by snatching offerings meant for the God of Weishan. The ‘E’ outlawed stealing and fighting, so they can’t take from others. To eat, they have to commit sacrilege.”
“How ruthless. It’s only because these spirits don’t eat human food that we were thrown off track.”
Shan Hunzi chuckled. “If that’s the case, then the western cemetery is the closest to Weishan, full of yin energy, making it the perfect place for live sacrifices. If we reach the end of the west without encountering a ghost wall…”
“Then that proves the ‘E’ is in the cemetery,” Fourth Master said, waving his hand. “Let’s go. I know how to break the ghost wall.”
“Amazing.”
Shan Hunzi grinned, his small eyes gleaming.
“But since Miss Cheng has revealed her transformed body and cleared the challenge in front of Old Man Fu, once we break the ghost wall, Old Man Fu will know we’ve made a discovery.”
“At that point, it’ll come after us without hesitation. There’ll be no turning back.”
“Why? Aren’t they supposed to mimic the villagers?” Fang Xiu, who had been enjoying the conversation from the sidelines, finally spoke.
Shan Hunzi glanced at him with a sly smile. “I can’t tell you for free.”
Fang Xiu: “……”
Damn, getting hit with his own trick actually stung a bit.
But no worries. Shan Hunzi would volunteer the answer soon enough.
……
They reached the western edge without encountering any spirits. At the end of the ghost wall was nothing but an empty void. There was no shrine, no ghost stalls, and no cemetery in sight.
Cheng Songyun, struggling to adjust to her new limbs, was panting. “Isn’t the west supposed to be the most dangerous?”
Fang Xiu moved closer with a serious expression, causing Cheng Songyun to shiver and perk up her ears.
Fang Xiu said, “Cheng Jie, you don’t play video games much, do you?”
Fang Xiu continued, “In most games, when you reach a map without minor enemies, players call that the ‘boss room’.”
Cheng Songyun: “……”
We haven’t talked for this long, and this is what you wanted to say?
She looked anxiously into the darkness. Shan Hunzi had been right: once they broke through the ghost wall, Old Man Fu wouldn’t let them off.
Fang Xiu’s live offering theory was a lie, and any deductions based on it by Fourth Master must also be wrong.
…Was it really okay to proceed so recklessly?
“You go first,” Fourth Master said, pushing Cheng Songyun forward. “The rest of you grab her clothes and follow.”
Fang Xiu obediently grabbed onto her with his one good arm.
Cheng Songyun sighed quietly, steeling herself as she stepped into the darkness.
Sure enough, the ghost wall didn’t hinder a “noble live sacrifice”. After only a few steps, the scenery opened up before them.
They had reached the cemetery of Weishan Village.
With the endless rain, the cemetery looked especially gloomy. The gravestones were crowded together, surrounded by wild grass and mud. In the distance, Weishan loomed faintly through the rain, casting an oppressive shadow over everything.
The moment they stepped into the cemetery, a piercing, furious shriek echoed from above the village.
Fang Xiu recognized the voice. It was Old Man Fu.
“We’ve been discovered. Move, move, move!”
Fourth Master pulled them through the dense gravestones, heading straight for the far western side of the cemetery.
Here, closest to Weishan, stood a row of arched gravestones. Some were new, others old, and the inscriptions were all blank.
They blended in with the varied village gravestones, nothing particularly remarkable. Last time Fang Xiu had visited the cemetery, he’d only noticed them after careful observation.
“I saw these before. The people buried here don’t have names, so they must be the ‘guests’.”
Fourth Master pointed to ten gravestones. “…These are the ones for the live sacrifices.”
Compared to the other unnamed gravestones, these ten were noticeably taller and more intricately crafted.
“Live sacrifices belong to the god, and the villagers wouldn’t touch their belongings. The ‘E’ must be inside the coffins.” Fourth Master quickly explained and shoved Cheng Songyun. “Start digging from the newest one, hurry!”
The third taboo prohibited harming live sacrifices, so no new ones could be buried.
Everything aligned perfectly with his theory, and Fourth Master’s face flushed with excitement.
The ghostly wails above Weishan Village continued as Cheng Songyun hesitated, unsure if continuing like this was really wise.
“Hurry up, Cheng Jie. Time is running out, and following orders is probably your best option.” This time, Fang Xiu looked directly into her eyes.
Cheng Songyun took a deep breath and started digging with her hands.
Yin energy surged in the cemetery as malicious spirits lunged at them. In the distance, larger ghostly figures began to gather.
Fourth Master raised his arm guard, deflecting attacking spirits, while Shan Hunzi muttered incantations, summoning headless ghosts from the ground to protect the other side.
Fang Xiu… Fang Xiu was leaning against Bai Shuangying, watching Cheng Songyun dig.
Cheng Songyun: “……”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
Fang Xiu whispered to Bai Shuangying, “See, sometimes it’s good to be a little injured.”
Cheng Songyun’s hand-digging was slow. Shan Hunzi pulled a yellow paper talisman from his pocket, blew on it, and it turned into two spades.
“You two, use these!” he said, tossing them to Cheng Songyun and Fang Xiu.
Fang Xiu didn’t take one.
His face pale, voice weak, he looked like he might collapse any second. “Sorry, my shoulder is dislocated, and it hurts too much to use my strength…”
Shan Hunzi: “……”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
Fang Xiu whispered again to Bai Shuangying, “You see? We’ve got the perfect seats to watch this show.”
Bai Shuangying pursed his lips. Being around Fang Xiu often gave him the odd feeling that his conscience was aching. Thankfully, he didn’t have one, and clearly, neither did Fang Xiu.
And so, the once-quiet cemetery grew lively.
The sound of piercing suonas grew closer, blood-stained paper money fluttering through the air. The spirits around them crawled forward, seemingly abandoning their pretense of “mimicking villagers”.
The spirits attacking them were growing stronger. Fourth Master’s arm guard could no longer deflect them, forcing him to chop them down with his peachwood sword. Shan Hunzi’s headless ghosts were torn apart by the horde, and the ones he summoned grew fewer and fewer.
The spirits only increased in number. Fourth Master and Shan Hunzi were sweating, retreating as they fought, while the safe zone behind them shrank.
Fang Xiu could see Old Man Fu’s suona troupe in the distance approaching from all sides, surrounding the entire cemetery. Under Old Man Fu’s lead, the spirits were closing in fast.
The time was right.
Fang Xiu lifted his eyelids and walked over to Cheng Songyun.
With the spade, Cheng Songyun was digging much faster now. The coffin wasn’t buried deep, and soon the lid was revealed.
It was one of the clay coffins they had seen before, though much larger. With no time to think, Cheng Songyun pried the lid open.
Inside was a curled-up skeleton.
The body was sitting, legs pulled up to the chest, now long since reduced to white bones.
Surrounding the bones were dried branches, withered flowers, and shriveled fruits. Scattered among them were everyday items like pencils and books. There was no sign of any special artifacts. It was just an ordinary grave.
Seeing that the grave had been opened without incident, Fourth Master pushed Shan Hunzi aside and rushed to the coffin.
He shoved Cheng Songyun out of the way, reaching inside.
What happened next all took place in an instant.
Shan Hunzi turned his head to look at Fourth Master, just as Fourth Master grabbed the skull.
Fang Xiu, who had been prepared, reached out with his right hand toward Fourth Master.
Cheng Songyun lost her balance and fell to the ground.
…There was a muffled thud as Cheng Songyun landed on the ground.
The next second, she was splattered with warm, fresh blood and chunks of flesh.
Shan Hunzi’s eyes widened, and Fang Xiu’s lips curled into a smile. He was holding onto the necklace with five jade Buddhas that had been around Fourth Master’s neck.
Fourth Master had vanished, leaving behind only a mess of flesh and fragments of his magical weapons.
Time seemed to freeze. Rain gently pattered onto the remains.
“I told you before, they wanted to use me to test the taboos, so I used them to test them instead.”
Fang Xiu put on the jade Buddhas and smiled at Bai Shuangying. “Finally, I’ve completed my test.”
“The first taboo: no food or water in the village may be consumed, except offerings.”
“The second taboo: no harm may come to the villagers, except in self-defense.”
“And… the third taboo: do not offend the God of Weishan, except for the Mountain God itself.”
The author has something to say:
Farewell, Fourth Master. The Jade Buddha group has met its end (cue dramatic suona music).
This arc is about to conclude, and the truth of Weishan Village and the true nature of our main couple will be revealed one by one—
A battle of unprecedented brutality unfolded, changing the colors of the heavens and the earth, darkening the sun and the moon.
The already apocalyptic land once again faced a terrible slaughter.
Mountains and rivers were uprooted, giant pits and barrier lakes formed continuously, the earth trembled incessantly, tsunamis washed over the land, and waves swept all the land away.
This was a battle between the two strongest beings in the heavens and the earth—their twelve eyes, six hands, and six feet stirred countless storms in an instant.
Countless civilians had already died in previous wars, yet even in death, they couldn’t rest peacefully. Their bones turned to dust under the impact of the tsunamis and earthquakes!
In just five minutes, the land where Zhou Qian and his companions stood was reduced to a small area not yet swallowed by the ocean.
And in those five minutes, all they could do was try to survive the dense earthquakes and tsunamis.
Just avoiding damage along the way, Zhou Qian, He Xiaowei, and the others saw their health drop to below 10%.
During the fight between the two strongest beings, the deep blue dragon was undoubtedly in the most dangerous spot because it was following the two Supremes!
When the Supremes reached the eastern sea and stirred up towering waves, the dragon weaved through countless waves. When they reached the western deserts, they stirred up terrible sandstorms in an instant, capable of uprooting mountains and destroying buildings, which could obliterate a city like Loulan if it happened in the real world.
In such circumstances, the dragon fearlessly followed!
Through tsunamis and sandstorms, as fast and resilient as the dragon was, it inevitably suffered severe injuries.
Soon, the dragon’s body was covered in blood; its blue scales were stained almost purple with red blood!
[What’s happening?]
[Has Qian Ge not decided whom to help, so 137 doesn’t dare attack either side and just follows them? But what’s his purpose in following them?]
[Now Qian Ge and 137 are chatting in a private channel, we don’t know Qian Ge’s intentions!]
[I think even 137 didn’t ask! If Qian Ge asks him to follow, he just keeps following!]
[Damn, he’s too far away. I can’t see his health, but I feel like he’s about to run out of HP!]
[This instance is too terrifying. I’d choose the normal way to clear it, fighting Amei and the spirits in the “past” timeline to get out.]
[Right, what’s the situation with the Hidden Blade?]
[He should also be able to make a choice, right? Choose the normal way to clear?!]
……
Another ten minutes passed.
Bai Zhou, in dragon form, having followed the two Supremes around most of the world at high speed, didn’t continue but found Zhou Qian and regrouped with him.
By this time, even his health was only at 7%.
Zhou Qian and the other players stood on the last remaining piece of land in the area.
The blue dragon returned to Zhou Qian’s side, injured from head to tail, as if it had traversed thousands of miles through the waves to finally find its lover.
Perhaps tired, Bai Zhou did not hover in the air upon reaching shore but gently landed under Zhou Qian’s gaze.
Zhou Qian looked up at him, opened his arms, and Bai Zhou, with his high head lowered, landed and coiled his tail, resting his head gently on Zhou Qian’s shoulder.
Extending his hand, Zhou Qian gently touched the horn on his forehead, immediately feeling the cold blood.
He softly said, “At first, I thought your blood wasn’t red.”
Bai Zhou asked him, “Are you scared?”
Zhou Qian shook his head, then looked at his blood-stained fingers for a while.
After a moment, moving his gaze away from his fingers, Zhou Qian bit his own finger as if tasting Bai Zhou’s blood.
Then he smiled at Bai Zhou. “It’s sweet. And a bit cold.”
The blue eyes lifted. Bai Zhou quietly watched Zhou Qian like this.
Zhou Qian’s eyes, whether from anger or some other emotion, had a hint of bloodthirstiness. Meanwhile, his lips, stained with blood, had a contrary and striking color.
Zhou Qian was also injured. His face and body were covered in dust, and his hair was soaked by the sea, tasting of salty sea breeze.
This Zhou Qian should look very wretched.
But in Bai Zhou’s eyes, Zhou Qian was so captivating at this moment, as if he was born to live in such battles.
After a while, Zhou Qian removed his finger, turned his head, kissed the horn on the dragon’s head, and said, “Thank you, Zhou Ge, for your hard work.”
He then showed Bai Zhou the scale he had been holding in his palm. “I tried to enter your spiritual realm through it. Our compatibility must have increased again. What you saw along the way, I saw through your eyes. It’s all clear now.”
Letting go of Bai Zhou’s hand, Zhou Qian firmly held the Rib of God and looked towards the horizon.
The two strongest had moved away from this area, now gradually approaching again.
“What place has more bones and resentment than an apocalyptic world?” Zhou Qian said, his lips tinged with Bai Zhou’s blood slightly raised.
“Zhou Ge, rest well. Now, it’s my turn.”
Summoning the little dragon, Zhou Qian rode on it.
Beside him, He Xiaowei couldn’t help but ask worriedly, “Qian’er, you’re not going to… directly confront the Supremes, are you? Although the bones of the whole world can be used by you… you can only make one move—”
He Xiaowei’s heart raced. “These are the strongest of the three realms. If you can’t kill one of them with one move and get affected by their minor moves, you’ll…”
Zhou Qian turned his head and smiled at him. “Who said I’m going to fight them?”
He Xiaowei was puzzled. “Then you…”
“Wait and see.” Zhou Qian urged the little dragon away. He felt someone was following him and turned back, and indeed, he found it was Bai Zhou.
Bai Zhou didn’t stop him nor asked any questions, only saying, “I’ll be right behind you.”
In that moment of eye contact with Bai Zhou, Zhou Qian felt all his gentleness and indulgence.
He could be wild, but Bai Zhou would never consider him crazy.
Turning back, Zhou Qian looked towards the sky. The two Supremes had fought their way here, their health dropping to below 50% before quickly recovering to over 80%. That was because the golden bird followed them all the way, continuously healing them. It seemed to possess inexhaustible healing power.
With only 10 minutes left until the 30-minute limit, the two Supremes paused again. They had almost destroyed the world in their fight, but still couldn’t kill each other, not only because they were both too strong but also because the golden bird kept healing them.
So, the second pause was because both sides needed to think about how to break the stalemate.
A minute later, both sides started moving again.
This time they no longer ran around the world; their methods of attack were similar to their first encounter.
However, this time both sides were even more ruthless, and the killing intent expanded unprecedentedly. Around Alayne’s side, a giant lotus with 27 petals bloomed.
Under the enhancement of magic and divine power, the petals quickly turned into 27 blades, all stabbing towards the other Supreme!
The other Supreme trio acted together, and 15 giant creatures appeared in the air in an instant, each monstrous in its own right, with one being a tongue covered in thorns and another a single eye.
This eye had a power similar to that of Medusa in Greek mythology, able to petrify those it gazed upon.
Just as the blades formed, Alayne was caught by the monstrous eye, her fingers beginning to petrify, but a golden light arrived just in time to save her. After regaining consciousness, Alayne no longer took it lightly. The blades moved at her will, blocking the monstrous eye’s gaze.
As the blades and monsters were ready to fight on behalf of the two Supremes, far away, Zhou Qian, whose health had dropped to below 10%, began to use his ultimate move.
A mournful wind arose, as if thousands of ghosts were wailing.
But in fact, the realm of the dead no longer existed, and even the spirits had vanished from this world, so the only response to Zhou Qian was the millions of bones nearly ground to dust.
How strong is the resentment in the bones of a world?
Strong enough to rapidly gather from every corner of the earth to Zhou Qian’s side, instantly appearing beside him.
Under the call of the Rib of God, tens of thousands of bones manifested powerful resentment.
As the 27 blades and 15 monsters were about to collide, the bone resentment, at Zhou Qian’s command, charged into the sky like a vast army.
Thousands of bones formed a giant wall, attempting to temporarily trap the blades and monsters within, rather than allowing them to continue harming each other.
But the Supremes were truly the strongest in the world. Even so many bones couldn’t fully stop them, with several blades and a few monsters breaking free from the bone confinement, rushing towards their predetermined targets.
In an instant, both Supremes were injured, and the golden bird flew over, its wings shining with golden light, healing both sides completely. Afterward, it stayed nearby, its gaze towards the battlefield seemingly anxious. It didn’t wish for either side to be injured.
However, more blades and monsters were still within the wall constructed of bones.
Zhou Qian was drenched in sweat, with it continuously dripping down his forehead. His face was washed over and over again, appearing pale and wan.
The more dead there were, the stronger his power became.
But this also meant the difficulty of controlling it increased.
Eventually, Zhou Qian trembled with the effort, barely able to hold onto the Rib of God. He clenched his teeth tightly, mobilizing all his strength to complete his plan before the effect of his ultimate move ran out.
The wall of bones quickly transformed. The area it encircled became narrower and more elongated, as if trying to form a path.
At a critical moment, Zhou Qian coughed up blood, and the thousands of bones in the wall nearly collapsed.
But Bai Zhou seemed to fully understand his intention. The dragon’s tail swung, its scales opened and closed, and countless water droplets rose, converging into several streams, rushing towards the wall of bones to help forge a path!
For a time, the blades and monsters lost direction, with a high wall of bones behind them preventing their retreat. On either side, barriers made of bones and streams forced them to continue forward along the predestined path.
Forced to move forward along this path, the front wall suddenly collapsed at a certain moment, and the blades and monsters finally found an exit, rushing forward competitively!
But the end of the path wasn’t Alayne’s group of Supreme, nor Amei’s side, nor the empty sky, but directly towards the golden bird!
Everything happened in an instant. The golden bird had just spread its wings, using its power to heal the wounds of the two Supremes, and it had no time to evade.
At that time, Zhou Qian turned his head to share a look with Bai Zhou. The power of bone resentment and the water all receded like the tide. It turned out that their entire purpose was to divert the countless blades and monsters’ attack direction at a critical moment.
The little dragon, having exhausted all its strength, turned back into a scale and flew into Zhou Qian’s bag on its own. Zhou Qian’s ultimate move’s effect completely disappeared, and the moment he was about to fall, the blue dragon leaped forward, catching him firmly before swiftly turning to reunite him with the other teammates.
On the way, Bai Zhou asked Zhou Qian, “Who do you think hit the golden bird first, the blades or those monsters?”
“It should be a random event. If we were to use the metaphysics of this instance, then it’s fate. Everything… depends on the arrangement of fate,” Zhou Qian replied with a smile.
At this moment, he was completely exhausted, only able to cling to the dragon’s body with his hands. His feverish face found the scales cool and comforting, so he pressed closer.
After taking a few deep breaths, Zhou Qian regained some strength, barely propping up his upper body, and turned to look into the sky, just in time to see the golden bird being petrified by a glance from the giant eyeball. Following that, a sharp, giant claw appeared next to the eyeball, striking the petrified bird as if in perfect coordination.
On the other side, several blades that were initially slashing towards Amei’s group were redirected by Zhou Qian and Bai Zhou, also carrying unstoppable killing intent towards the golden bird.
However, the blade’s light was a step too slow, and the claw had already scooped out the golden bird’s heart first!
The golden bird, capable of healing everything, could heal everything except itself.
Its body then disintegrated into countless light points, falling like meteors across the land, leaving no trace behind.
With the death of the golden bird, it vanished into nothingness.
At that moment, someone shed tears—Amei’s group of the Supreme.
Miwa shed the most tears; his face seemingly filled with shame.
Alayne’s group of Supreme immediately came over, but it was too late to save anything.
Vels looked at Miwa with a bit of heartache.
Miwa said, “This matter is finally concluded. In the end… it’s my indecision and my fear of death. I should have resolved it sooner. I am a coward.”
Vels sighed deeply. “This matter was done by both of us. If you are a coward, then what am I? We just… didn’t want to admit we were wrong. We just wanted to prove… we were on the right path.”
Miwa smiled bitterly and shook his head, then looked in Zhou Qian and his team’s direction.
He and the two beside him suddenly became infinitely large, so much so that Zhou Qian could easily see his expression—he was looking at himself.
Pointing at Zhou Qian and the others, Miwa said, “They were sent to this world by fate. Actually, the root of the problem is, both you and I were unwilling to sacrifice ourselves…”
“We destroyed the entire world, yet neither of us wanted to die… We almost didn’t care whether the world could start over again…”
“Vels, the original intention of doing all this has long been lost.”
Miwa stopped looking at Vels and only spoke to Zhou Qian. “Thank you for killing me.”
Following those words, Miwa, Amei, and Liu Shui all disintegrated into dust in the air.
[Duel completed. From now on, this world will have only one Supreme Being. Player’s hidden mission is completed. Please wait for the ending credits. Rewards will be exchanged after the animation ends.]
From watching one of the Supremes die to receiving the system message, He Xiaowei seemed unable to believe what had happened.
When the dragon Bai Zhou landed with Zhou Qian, he couldn’t help but ask, “What? Qian’er? I don’t understand… Why did killing the bird lead to the Supreme’s death?”
“Because of the fourth prohibition.”
Zhou Qian said, “‘Never kill a bird’. This prohibition was directed at Vels and Miwa.”
After reviewing the details of the golden bird healing wounds at the beginning of the duel and connecting it with the folk tales about Difu, Vels, and Miwa, as well as after confirming their identities weren’t actually “deserters”, Zhou Qian knew how to solve the puzzle.
The process was actually simple—
Since Zhou Qian had confirmed they didn’t belong to this world and were not so-called deserters from the Land of Silence, then those prohibitions weren’t aimed at them.
All the villagers’ knowledge of the players came from Difu. If Difu said they were deserters from the Land of Silence and said they had betrayed the Land of Silence and joined the Kingdom of Words, the villagers temporarily believed it.
Difu also told this to Zhou Qian and his team, aiming to lay the groundwork for disputes between the two sides later on, making it easier for her to profit.
The so-called prohibitions laid down by the sorcerer Liu Shui, Amei’s efforts to remind them of the prohibitions’ existence, even changing the color of glass… all were designed by Difu and Amei, just to make them believe in their own identities.
Thus, the four prohibitions weren’t restricting the players.
Then who were they restricting?
Why did they exist, and where did they originate from?
When Difu concocted lies to deceive the players… How did she learn about these prohibitions?
Considering the limited information, the only people related to her in the divine realm were Miwa and Vels.
So Zhou Qian guessed, these prohibitions were actually restricting them.
Zhou Qian couldn’t be entirely certain of this, so when the two Supremes fought around the world, he specifically had Bai Zhou follow them.
Sure enough, they were originally fighting in circles, but when they passed by a certain sea area, they simultaneously stopped, then deliberately found a straight line to leave the sea area.
When passing through a desert, the two Supremes also made similar movements.
During this, Bai Zhou deliberately found landmarks, enough to confirm that the sea area was named “Brega Sea”, and the desert was called “Tara Desert”.
Among the prohibitions, “Do not walk counterclockwise around Tara” and “nor clockwise around Brega” were specifically aimed at Vels and Miwa.
The four prohibitions were all targeting the gods.
After listening to Zhou Qian’s brief explanation, He Xiaowei was astounded. “Isn’t that too confusing? So what me and Xiao Qi were doing with the flame reaction experiments in the mining area, being so cautious about which stone is what color… it was all in vain, huh? Was that fire-related prohibition also aimed at those two gods?!”
“Probably,” Zhou Qian said.
He Xiaowei: “What about the two villagers? Weren’t there two villagers named Brega and Tara?!”
Zhou Qian said, “Sometimes when we name things, we draw inspiration from the names of mountains, rivers, and seas.”
After a long silence, He Xiaowei: “… Fuck.”
“Of course, this is from analyzing the logic of the story,” Zhou Qian said. “From the perspective of game design… this is just the game designer’s sense of humor.”
At this moment, all the sounds of fighting had disappeared, and the world was quiet.
Slowly, a beam of light pierced through the clouds from the horizon, falling directly on the remaining Supreme.
In the beam of light, Vels, Alayne, and Bo Lu all closed their eyes. Seconds later, when they reopened them, their gazes were devoid of any emotion.
As if, by severing the last thread of concern in their hearts, they became detached and ascended.
At that moment, He Xiaowei seemed to understand something. Standing beside Zhou Qian, he voiced his thoughts. “What’s the meaning of this instance… Telling us that only by killing the most important person, one can become a god?”
“Or is it saying… Only through heartlessness and detachment can one become a Buddha, an immortal, or a god? Then what about us mortals… Never mind, I’m better off staying as a mortal.”
He Xiaowei indeed had an interesting perspective.
In terms of solving puzzles and even emotional intelligence, he could sometimes be slow to catch on or quite dull.
But when it came to understanding some profound truths, he seemed to grasp them easily.
Hearing his words, Zhou Qian didn’t respond but simply turned to look at Bai Zhou beside him.
At this moment, Bai Zhou had reverted to human form. He was quite seriously injured, but it wasn’t apparent on the surface.
Raising his hand to support Zhou Qian’s shoulder, Bai Zhou looked down into his eyes, understanding his meaning after a long moment. “It’s different, Zhou Qian.”
Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes, saying, “Zhou Ge, I’m not a good person. I’m very selfish. If it were me, I wouldn’t kill you to save the world. It doesn’t matter if it’s the end of the world. We can just die together. If you and I could be buried alongside the heavens and earth, that would be quite nice too. In my view, that scene would also be very beautiful. But…”
But if it were Bai Zhou, would he commit suicide to save Zhou Qian and even all living beings?
Or would he, like the characters in the instance, after countless futile efforts in endless cycles, eventually choose to give up?
No, whether it was one of these two ways, he seemed to underestimate Bai Zhou.
Zhou Qian felt that he would definitely seek the most perfect answer.
But does that answer really exist?
His meeting with Bai Zhou was too hasty. There were many things they hadn’t had the chance to fully understand.
Zhou Qian didn’t have the opportunity to discuss deeply with Bai Zhou, as the ending animation began.
Looking up into the sky, Zhou Qian saw the flashback story being played there.
In the divine realm.
When young Miwa and Vels saved a golden bird during their visit to the endless sea and brought it back to the divine realm.
One day, a venerable elder in the divine realm became seriously ill and was near death. The gods couldn’t cure him, and he had prepared for his demise.
That day, Miwa and Vels visited the elder with the golden bird.
The golden bird spread its wings and, after a few flaps, miraculously healed the elder.
The origin of this bird was unknown, but its ability was astonishing—diseases that no god in the divine realm could cure were healed by it.
Afterward, the divine bird not only cured the elder but also healed countless gods in the divine realm, receiving adoration from many and eventually becoming the highest in status in the divine realm.
When one prospers, all associated benefits. Not only was the golden bird greatly respected, but all birds also gained unprecedented status in the divine realm.
The divine realm wasn’t as wonderful as people imagined, with many restrictions on the gods. Gods could draw power from various places, and to limit their abilities, “prohibitions” were set from the highest authorities down.
At that time, to show affection for birds, “Never kill a bird” became a prohibition applicable to all gods. Those who violated it would die.
Later, during a visit to the human world, Miwa and Vels witnessed a group of nobles falsely accusing a poor man, leading to his beating to death.
This incident deeply alarmed them.
Diseases and physical pain could be cured by the golden bird, but what about malice?
Lies, betrayal, hatred… These negative factors existed not only in the divine realm but also in the human world, causing endless suffering and posing a great danger. Could a way be found for the golden bird to cure the malice in the human world?
Miwa and Vels, young gods with goodwill towards all three realms, shared a vision—to eradicate all evil in the world.
Once all malice was eliminated, only goodness would remain in the world.
Could the golden bird, in addition to healing physical wounds, also heal the human heart?
The two young gods hit it off and started training the golden bird intentionally.
Eventually, it succeeded. It could absorb malice and heal the human heart.
But what they never expected was that by absorbing too much evil, it became evil incarnate.
The Goddess of Malice, Difu, was thus born.
She freely roamed the three realms, stirring up countless troubles, eventually leading to the war of the three realms and the world’s end.
After that, Miwa and Vels both faced the same dilemma—
Killing the golden bird would mean death for violating the prohibition; not killing it would lead to the final duel with their friend.
Unwilling to face that ultimate duel or see so many deaths, they paused time, hoping to return to the past to find an answer that would prevent the world’s destruction.
But in the end, they returned to the present, pushing history forward again.
As the last segment of the animation played, Zhou Qian’s lips curled into a mocking smile.
“So, these two gods are selfish. If they could change time, why didn’t they return to when they first found the golden bird? If they didn’t pick it up, didn’t bring it back to the divine realm, or even prevented it from being trained to absorb malice, perhaps things could have truly changed.”
He Xiaowei asked, “Yeah, why didn’t they do that?”
Zhou Qian replied, “The golden bird healed countless gods, and along with the entire bird species, it gained immense respect. As owners of the golden bird, Miwa and Vels must have also gained enough reputation and high status. Moreover, I think, at the beginning, when the golden bird absorbed malice, the effects were very good, so their status further increased, even reaching a point where they were second only to the highest authority.”
“In such a situation… how could they give up those positions? They certainly didn’t want to start over. What if the world was destroyed? They would live to the end, become the strongest, and even become the great creators of a new world… They were probably willing to do so.”
“The only trouble they faced… was just having to fight against their so-called friend.”
Shaking his head, Zhou Qian continued, “So, Amei and Alayne, Bo Lu and Liu Shui, really had it hard. They would never want to kill each other unless absolutely necessary. But Miwa and Vels were always intending to put each other to death. Of course… maybe they weren’t like this at first. They truly had goodwill towards the world, deciding to find a bird to absorb all malice. Maybe they were also infected by the malice of Difu.”
He Xiaowei sighed, looking up at the Supreme in the sky. “So, among these Trinity… does Vels have malice, and can he really create a new world together with Alayne and Bo Lu?”
“Sunlight reveals shadows. Moderation is key, and sometimes, evil needs to be allowed to exist. The difference is just the specific way it’s handled. Good and evil sometimes have to coexist, complementing each other. Otherwise—”
Zhou Qian switched to a cheerful smile, teasing himself and touching Bai Zhou’s shoulder, “How did Zhou Ge and I come together?”
“That analogy isn’t right,” He Xiaowei immediately said.
Beside him, Qi Liuxing also stepped forward. “Indeed, it’s not.”
Zhou Qian didn’t say anything. He just looked at Bai Zhou, seriously asking, “Are you okay?”
Bai Zhou shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Just then, the screen displaying past scenes disappeared, and the triumvirate of the Supreme approached Zhou Qian and the players.
Facing the players was Vels.
He waved his hand, and each player suddenly held a very clear sphere.
[Player receives item: Star]
[Function: ?]
[Grade: ?]
“God said, let there be light in the body of heaven to divide the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to ordain the seasons and day, and to shine forth to give light universally unto all.”
“And so, God created the sun, moon, and stars.” (See author’s note.)
“Thank you for helping fate make a choice. You may leave now.”
After speaking, the Supreme vanished.
A portal appeared in their place with a teleportation device through which the players could leave the instance.
“We got the hidden reward and can clear the instance!” He Xiaowei, clutching the sphere in his hand, showed a satisfied smile.
But soon, his smile turned to shock.
He Xiaowei turned pale, grabbing Zhou Qian’s arm as he walked towards the portal. “Wait… where’s my master?!”
The author has something to say:
The annotated part, the sentence is adapted from the creation stories of Jehovah~
Kinky Thoughts:
The creation stories of Jehovah are the first two chapters of the Book of Genesis in the bible. The first story is about God creating the heavens and earth in six days, then resting, blessing, and sanctifying the seventh day.
The second story is about God creating Adam from dust and placing him in the Garden of Eden, where he is given dominion over the animals. Eve, the first woman, is created from Adam’s rib as his companion.
The specific quote is from Day 4, where God created the sun, moon, and stars.
Lieutenant Leslie Faraday pulled up the radar, displaying four green dots and three red dots—the green dots represented allies, and the red dots enemies. He glanced at the optical screen, which showed a spacecraft floating quietly in space (one of the red dots). Facing the onslaught of enemies, it was eerily unresponsive—not out of calm, but truly unresponsive—as if it were a ghost ship that had drifted for hundreds of years, its crew long since turned to dust and ashes, with only its faithful computer still steering the ship through the endless cosmic path.
“How strange,” Lieutenant Faraday said into the team’s communication channel. “Is this really Joanna Begrel’s ship?”
“It can’t be wrong,” his companion replied.
“But there’s no response from them,” Faraday said distractedly. “Could it be that they’ve resigned themselves to surrender?”
His companion said, “I scanned the nearby star field and found that a few minutes ago, four small escape pods left the ship, heading toward Ansod G2.”
Faraday understood the situation. The Mad Queen, knowing she was outmatched, chose to abandon the ship and flee. Tactically, it was undoubtedly the right move, but—
“Joanna Begrel actually fleeing from battle—it seems the myths of the galaxy are just that, myths.” Faraday smirked with a mocking smile. “If I take her down, the title of ‘Ace Pilot’ of the Empire Army will truly be mine.”
“Don’t be so smug, Leslie,” the flight squadron’s captain warned. “You’re too young and haven’t witnessed Joanna Begrel’s capabilities firsthand. Don’t underestimate her.”
“Ah, ah, got it, Captain,” Leslie replied nonchalantly. He thought to himself, ‘The captain always puts her on a pedestal. Everyone worships her like a goddess.’ He didn’t believe in such “myths”. He would knock that mad pirate off her pedestal, use missiles and lasers to make her crawl in the dust, and let everyone know that he, Leslie Faraday, was the strongest pilot in the Empire Army.
The flight squadron approached the lifeless Dream of a Cold Night. Radar scans over the ship confirmed no life signs. “They really have all fled,” the captain said. “Catch up with the escape pods. We must eliminate them before they land on the planet.”
“Understood.”
Leslie turned his fighter towards Ansod G2. On his radar, four green dots formed a V-formation—he was the leader, with even the captain behind him, which gave Leslie a rush of exhilaration. The other two enemy red dots seemed to detect their aggressive intentions and also moved quickly, closing in on Leslie’s squadron.
The lieutenant’s lips curled up again in his characteristic smirk. The enemy had only two fighters, while they had more than double that number, with a whole fleet behind them. The Mad Queen was either incredibly brave or deliberately seeking death. Leslie leaned toward the latter.
The radar had identified the models of the two enemy fighters, one Godot II and one Bard. Leslie’s eyes were glued to the optical screen displaying the Bard; its bird-like graceful shape, streamlined beautiful lines, and its light, prancing stance were like a magnet to his gaze, drawing him in so much that he momentarily forgot everything else.
The expensive concept model from Neo Venice was only affordable to the high nobility of the Empire and those fools with mush for brains didn’t understand the beauty of a fighter jet. The Bard, in their hands, was a pearl cast before swine.
Leslie licked his lips, pulling his gaze back. He decided to capture that silver-white body as a war trophy for himself. Only he was worthy of the beautiful Bard.
As for the other aircraft, Leslie raised an eyebrow. The Godot II was such an old model it should be lying in a museum, not appearing on the battlefield. Alright, Leslie admitted it did have an advantage in speed, and some veteran pilots took pride in handling the Godot II. Leslie, however, thought they were just seeking glory in old memories to comfort themselves.
“Bring it on, whatever you are!”
The two enemy fighters were now within Leslie’s range. He launched two missiles, then glided downward to avoid the shock of the explosions. His teammates followed suit, their coordinated maneuvers making them look like a finely tuned instrument.
The brightness of the explosions obscured the optical screen. There was no sound of explosions in space; one had to compensate with imagination.
“It can’t be this easy, can it…?” the lieutenant chuckled lightly.
As if responding to his skepticism, a black and a white fighter jet burst out from the flames of the explosions like phoenixes reborn from fire, swiftly closing in from either side.
Leslie pulled up his fighter, maintaining distance from the enemy jets, but soon he was tightly marked by the black Godot II. The opponent, like a fierce cobra, clung to him relentlessly. The disadvantage in speed made Leslie scramble, but once his squadron mates joined the fray, the outlook improved significantly. The two against one compensated for Leslie’s lack in speed. However, the enemy jet wasn’t as weak as he imagined; its magical-like flying skills and the advantage of the model’s unpredictability kept Faraday on the run. He had just launched missiles when the enemy jet disappeared from view, only to appear behind him moments later.
“Is this guy even human?!” his teammate roared over the comm.
Leslie recalled his officer’s caution that Joanna Begrel’s ship had a formidable AI. Could the pilot of the black fighter really be an AI and not human? He quickly dismissed the thought. No AI could reach such a level. Piloting a fighter had turned into an art form, like a stroke improvised by a painter or a note casually played by a musician—simple yet full of endless power. Only a human could achieve this.
“Be careful!” the captain shouted. “The opponent is likely Alois Lagrange! Don’t underestimate him!”
Ah, so it’s him. Leslie’s inner rage erupted. Never mind Joanna Begrel, even the detestable Lagrange was here. More notorious than the female pirate, Lagrange’s name had overshadowed Leslie’s student days. “Lagrange used this tactic before.” “This is a simulator model Lagrange used.” “The records set by Lagrange probably can’t be broken.” Lagrange this, Lagrange that, as if Lagrange was an insurmountable legend! Whenever the teachers and students mentioned his name, their faces showed a mix of admiration and regret, as if losing him was a great misfortune!
Faraday gripped the control stick. “Whether it’s Joanna or Lagrange, I’ll knock you all down. I will carve my name on your tombstones, telling the world who you fell to!”
He shouted, dodging the attack from the Godot II like a swift shadow, ignoring his teammates’ support, and set up a one-on-one fight with his opponent. They tangled in the vast space, neither willing to let the other go, like two beasts fighting for territory, with the battle only stopping when one of them died.
“Faraday! What are you doing!” the captain roared over the comm. “You’re disrupting the formation! Get back in formation now!”
The radar showed the captain and the other two unable to contain the Bard anymore. The so-called formation was already unstable, so it was no wonder the captain was in a hurry to have him rejoin.
“No!” the lieutenant refused. “Captain, if you can’t suppress the Bard, let the second squadron provide support!”
“You…”
Before the captain’s reprimand could come through, Leslie turned off the communication channel, focusing in silence on the black fighter before him. The second squadron? Whether they came for support or chased the escape pods didn’t matter to him. All he needed was to defeat his enemy. He would prove his strength with real achievements.
Perhaps the captain had given up on disciplining him, allowing the second squadron to strike. The second squadron’s impeccable formation swept across the battlefield, chasing the direction the escape pods had gone.
“It’s terrifying. The Captain is actually abandoning the ship!” Ibb Descartes was deleting the data on the ship while assisting Leo, speaking to Alois in disbelief. “Even when we were tightly pursued by the Federation Army in the past, the captain never thought of abandoning the ship.”
“This time is different.” Leo told the mechanic. “We’re facing the enemy head-on, with no chance of winning. Fortunately, we have few people, so using the escape pods means smaller targets and a higher chance of survival.”
“Are we already discussing the chances of survival?” Alois frowned, looking distressed. “I haven’t even gotten into that mindset, and you’re telling me the enemy is here.”
Ibb sympathetically patted his shoulder. “Who can react to this!”
A small window popped up next to him, showing communication from Joanna. “Ibb, open the hangar.” The captain said, “Charge the Bard and Godot II with energy. Alois,” she turned to the bewildered young man, “if you don’t mind, come with me to cover everyone’s retreat.”
Before Alois could respond, the captain continued on her own, “The nearest planet from here is Ansod G2. It will take about 72 hours to reach there at the speed of the escape pods. Leo, tell everyone, we’ll meet at Ansod G2!”
“Understood.” The artificial intelligence swiftly transmitted the captain’s orders to every crew member’s communication terminal and set up the escape route in the escape pod’s computer system.
After issuing the orders, Joanna said to Alois, “Okay, I know it’s asking a lot of you. At this time, you’d probably rather be with your Joshua.”
Under her suggestive gaze, Alois turned his face away, blushing. “I can prioritize things…” he murmured, “and Joshua can take care of himself.”
“Ah, I know.” Joanna curled her lips. “Meet me in the hangar in three minutes. I need to copy some data first.”
The window closed. Alois coughed awkwardly and said to Ibb, “See you at Ansod G2 then.”
“Yeah!” The simple freckled young man nodded. “It’s okay. You and the Captain will definitely handle those troops. We’ll survive. I still need to go back and see Titia!” He then panickedly touched his forehead. “Damn, I accidentally said the forbidden phrase.”
“It’s okay. I say it often too, and I’m still alive and well.”
Joshua checked his guns and energy magazines, zipped up his spacesuit, and joined the other crew members who were gathering in the equipment bay. Without needing command, they orderly boarded the escape pods and were launched into space. Next to him, the chef Celia, a critical protection target, was grouped with Joshua. The blonde girl was murmuring prayers in some dialect quietly.
“I always feel like I forgot to turn off the stove in the kitchen,” the anxious chef suddenly said to the assassin. “Should I go back and check?”
“Leo will turn it off for you.”
Celia nodded and continued praying in the unintelligible language. The scene evoked a distant memory for Joshua, when people gathered under the starlit “Dante” as it descended to Earth, quietly praying that the spacecraft named after the Renaissance pioneer would take them out of their plight, into space, towards the future.
Joshua fell into a loop of memories. He didn’t board the Dante. He secretly fled that spaceship, returning to Kester’s research lab. It was this youthful whim that began his long, solitary, dark drift of a thousand years. If not for that, he would have gone with his teacher Giorgione to Neo Athens, established the Neo Athens Academy, spread technology and learning, brought about a renaissance of civilization for humanity, and then died two hundred years ago, celebrated and admired as one of the third batch of Earth’s remnants.
…No, he thought. Fortunately, I didn’t board the Dante. I was fortunate that I came to the colonies two hundred years late. It’s a good thing, as it allowed me to meet Alois.
As Alois was boarding the fighter jet, the lights in the hangar suddenly dimmed, and all the lighting disappeared, leaving only a row of small lights along the launch rail to guide the direction.
He put on his space helmet, and the night vision showed the dim hangar and the complex dashboard in front of him. He lightly touched the control instrument to start the system but didn’t immediately close the cockpit and take off.
“Leo?” he tentatively called out. The omnipresent, omnipotent AI didn’t respond to his call this time. He knew it was because the spaceship had stopped powering, and Leo must have been shut down. Losing this capable assistant, Alois suddenly felt somewhat uneasy.
Hasty footsteps came, and the hangar door was manually opened. Alois looked out of the cockpit, and through the night vision, he saw a woman hurriedly running to the base of his fighter jet.
“Captain!”
“Sorry, I was a bit late.” Joanna looked up. It was the first time Alois saw the captain in a pilot’s space suit. The black fabric outlined her shapely figure attractively. Her bearing was heroic, yet she had the force of a storm. She grinned, showing her teeth proudly, as if silently challenging her enemies.
A surge of confidence suddenly filled Alois. What am I afraid of? he thought. With Joanna Begrel fighting alongside me, what is there to fear! Is there anyone she can’t defeat?
“Alois, here’s something for you to hold onto.” Joanna tossed a small, flat object to the young man.
“What is this?” The flat object traced a parabola through the air, sparkling under the dim light along the launch rail in the darkness. Alois caught it, discovering it was a small storage chip. “What’s this?”
“Leo’s backup data.” After speaking, Joanna walked towards the Bard parked next to the Godot II. “I copied two copies, the other is with me, in case something happens to me…”
“Enough!” Alois interrupted her. “Don’t talk like that, Captain!”
“It’s just being prepared for the worst.” Joanna shrugged, stepping up the metal ladder into the silver fighter. “Ideally, we won’t need the backup you have.”
“So giving me this thing is useless!”
“Ah… then just play around with it.”
The Bard’s cockpit closed. The engines on the tail roared, launching it into the launch rail. Since Leo wasn’t there, everything had to be manually operated by the pilot, and it needed to accelerate with the engines to gain initial flight speed. Joanna handled it expertly, and soon, the Bard was catapulted into space like a soaring bird.
Alois was left alone on the Dream of a Cold Night. He held up the chip in his hand, jesting, “Hey, Leo, you’re in my hand now!” Such an opportunity was rare. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it longer. If Leo could hear him, he would surely be furious. But the AI now rested in the tiny chip, knowing nothing.
Alois carefully put the chip in the inner pocket of his spacesuit, closed the cockpit, and began to operate the manual ejection system, which was a headache for him.
Alveira pushed open the oak door, and a biting draft welcomed her, causing her to shiver.
The room behind the door was empty. This wasn’t to say there was no one inside; rather, the entire space gave her an unusual sense of void, as if it wasn’t a living person who resided here but a ghost who had died many years ago. He wandered in his memories, lamenting in regret and self-blame, weeping alone in the darkness and cold wind.
The cold wind lifted a pristine white curtain. Despite the bright sunshine outside, the room held not a trace of warmth. In front of the window stood a high-backed wooden chair, on which someone sat quietly. Hearing the door open, the person didn’t turn around but simply asked softly, “Alveira?”
“It’s me. I’m back, brother.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
The young man in the chair sighed in relief. “It’s good that you are safe. I’ve been restless these past few days, worried about you, fearing something might happen.”
“With Darius protecting me, there won’t be any accidents,” Alveira said, though thinking to herself, ‘Really? You still care about others? Hasn’t your heart already left this world with Leia?’
“And… the Duke? How is he?”
“Also ‘safe and sound’.” She became irritated talking about this. Darius had done nothing and let the tiger return to the mountain. If she were Darius, she would have taken the opportunity to stealthily eliminate that old fox, to avoid future trouble.
On the chair, the Prince shifted. “Is that so…” His voice lowered again. “By the way, there’s something I think I should tell you.”
“What?”
“I’m getting married, to Miss Jessica from the Greenwald family.”
Jessica, the Chancellor’s granddaughter, was about the same age as Alveira. The Chancellor had long been trying to arrange a marriage between her and Annot. Alveira wasn’t surprised by this news. It seemed as though it was destined to happen. There was nothing astonishing about it.
“It’s mother’s idea, isn’t it? Did you agree?” she asked.
Annot nodded. “Mother said… she said that compared to the covetous Duke, the Chancellor, though ambitious, is more trustworthy and would be a reliable ally…”
A gentle breeze came through. The thin and light curtains floated like a layer of mist, obscuring the Prince’s frail figure.
He stopped mid-sentence because no one was listening anymore. The oak door was wide open, the draft howling through, and his sister had already vanished.
He lowered his head, pulling out a pendant from his chest and opening it to reveal a small paper photograph of a girl smiling brightly like the spring sun.
He stared at the girl’s face for a long time until tears blurred his vision.
……
The “Dream of a Cold Night” was about to cross the Empire’s border and enter the Free City-State territories. Joanna Begrel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness, mission accomplished! Safe return, and then we don’t have to deal with the Duke’s nonsense anymore!” To celebrate, she even indulgently opened a bottle of her private stock wine, enjoying the sweet moment of victory alone in her cabin.
“Don’t be too happy yet, Captain.” Leonard’s holographic image sat beside her, coolly dampening the spirited pirate’s mood, “Until we set foot on Milantu’s soil, we’re not safe. If I were the Duke, seeing what’s on that chip, I would be furious and vow to tear you to pieces.”
“Hey! Why me? Wasn’t this damn idea yours?”
“Even if he wanted to tear me to pieces, he couldn’t…” Leo tilted his chin, then suddenly his expression changed.
“What’s wrong?” Joanna looked puzzled at the AI. She felt the floor tremble beneath her feet, the wine glass on the table also vibrating fiercely, causing the wine to nearly spill out. “Why the sudden acceleration?” she frowned.
Leo looked serious. “A large armed fleet has appeared from the direction of Andromeda.”
“The Empire fleet?” It was common for fleets to patrol the border and large base starships to pass through. The Empire fleet wouldn’t only not hinder civilian merchant ships, sometimes they would even escort them. The female pirate didn’t understand why the AI was so nervous. They weren’t strangers to this kind of display.
“It would be better if it were the Empire fleet,” Leo murmured. “The other party hasn’t identified themselves. I fear they come with ill intentions.”
As the cherished red wine threatened to spill, Joanna quickly grabbed the glass, downing the remaining wine in one gulp. “Could it be the Federation Army?” They must be very bold to sneak into enemy territory!
“Not them!” Leo suddenly stood up. “Joanna, I suggest you immediately order the entire ship to enter escape mode. Prepare the escape pods! I’ve already started the jump engine, hoping to make the jump before we encounter them!”
“This isn’t a safe sector to jump. It’s dangerous!” Joanna tossed the wine glass and bottle into a storage box in the cabin. “What’s going on?”
“Just 36 seconds ago, Duke Winnet officially posted a proclamation on the public net calling for the queen’s overthrow! He has rebelled! The fleet approaching us is likely his forces!”
Joanna opened her mouth in disbelief. “How is that possible… He clearly didn’t get those manufacturing data… How dare he…”
Leo pressed his fingertips to his temples. “He probably thinks we switched the contents and plan to sell them at a high price to someone else. He wants to control the situation before someone else manufactures the ‘Yasha’.”
“Ugh…” Joanna felt a splitting headache.
“That ‘Yasha’…” she frowned deeply. “What exactly is it? Why are you and the Duke so anxious about it? An ultimate weapon to destroy humanity? Can such a thing really be manufactured?”
Leo looked at her with an unfamiliar gaze, giving the pirate goosebumps.
“Of course, my dear Captain,” the AI said softly. “The strongest artificial intelligence and the strongest humanoid weapon, ‘we’ are Kaster’s final and greatest masterpiece. But I don’t want to see my ‘siblings’ released,” he paused, “or manufactured. Without my control, they are just mere killing machines. Those who want to manufacture the Yasha only know its power, but not that this power will destroy its creators.”
“So you switched the chip?”
“That’s right. The secrets of Yasha should be buried forever. Darkness is where it belongs.”
Then Leo raised his voice. Joanna, hearing him, also activated the ship-wide broadcast. “The ship is entering jump status. All crew prepare for emergency procedures!”
“What!” Joanna only had time to grab something to stabilize herself. The vibrations from the jump attempt made her dizzy. A few seconds later, the shaking stopped.
“What now?” she asked, holding back the urge to vomit.
“The other side launched a gravity disruption wave. Jump failed,” Leo said. “They have an entire fleet, and we have just one ship, twenty crew, two pilots.” He glanced at Joanna. “Captain, your decision?”
The female pirate straightened up. She had never anticipated landing in such a situation.
“Abandon ship,” she said. “Everyone take the escape pods and seek refuge on a nearby planet.”
The “Sword of the Queen” hovered above the Leyting Spaceport. The silver battleship hung like the sword of Damocles, tied by a ponytail, a disaster waiting to be summoned at any moment.
Major General Darius Bayes sat composedly in the bridge, coolly directing the marines to land on Leyting to maintain local order and “protect” the esteemed Duke Winnet. He also deployed formations in space to prevent attacks from the Duke or pirates amid the chaos.
While Leibniz was reporting that a small shuttle claiming to be from the “Dream of a Cold Night” requested entry to the cosmic port, Darius was staring blankly at the Princess guard’s casualty report. It stated that Zion had bravely sacrificed himself to protect the Princess. This slightly distracted the major general. Zion had been serving beside him since he was a child. When he left the Empire Capital, he had left this loyal subordinate in the palace to protect the two highnesses, only to find Zion’s body upon their next meeting.
The major general put down the casualty report. “Allow that shuttle to dock. Ensure the Princess’s safety.”
The bridge connected to the cosmic port’s monitors, which showed the shuttle docking slowly at a temporary berth (part of the spaceport had been severely damaged by a previous attack from the “Dream of a Cold Night”). A silver telescopic ladder extended from the shuttle. Darius’s elite troops quickly lined up in two rows in front of the ladder. The shuttle’s door opened, and a young girl emerged, stepping lightly down the ladder. She was immediately surrounded and tightly guarded by soldiers. Darius recognized her as Alveira. What strange clothes she was wearing!
The soldiers physically separated the Princess from the shuttle, escorting her to the spaceport’s lounge. The Princess looked panicked, repeatedly glancing back and waving at the shuttle as if saying goodbye or trying to retain it. However, the shuttle didn’t respond to her gestures. As her figure was about to be overwhelmed by the tall, muscular soldiers, it retracted its ladder and slowly started its engines to leave the port.
Darius guessed that the shuttle’s pilot was either Joanna Begrel or Lagrange, knowing the Princess was acquainted with him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so reluctant to part.
“Dock the Sword of the Queen,” Darius ordered. “Receive the Princess on board, and we’ll escort her directly back to the Empire Capital.”
“What about the Duke?” the adjunct asked. “Shall we escort him too?”
Darius snorted coldly. “Let him die! Doesn’t the Duke have his own battleship? Let him go back on his own!” Soon after, Darius would realize this command was a grave mistake.
As the Sword of the Queen approached the spaceport, Alveira had also reached the lounge. On the screen, she appeared restless, her lips constantly moving as if muttering something. Her hands kept twisting the hem of her top—a habit when she was anxious, something Darius knew well.
What was she fretting about? The major general wondered. Was she worried about her safety? Or was she missing someone?
Suddenly, the Princess stood up and said to the squad leader escorting her, “Can I send a message to the shuttle that brought me?”
The squad leader was puzzled by her request and saluted. “I will inquire for you, Your Highness.” He returned a short while later with a regretful look, “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” he said, “that shuttle doesn’t have superluminal communication equipment.”
The princess immediately showed disappointment. The squad leader quickly added, “But the distance is short. You can use traditional radio to contact it. There will hardly be any delay!”
“Connect me quickly!”
“Yes! If you wish to talk, please come to the communications room!”
The Princess stood up and followed the squad leader to the communications room. Half of the escorting soldiers moved with them. A large group crowded into the communications room, startling the staff there. They nervously connected the Princess to the shuttle she had arrived in. They didn’t dare to look up and just focused on their work.
Alveira entered a private calling booth, surrounded by double-layered glass to prevent anyone from overhearing private conversations. This made Darius uneasy, as he couldn’t hear what she was saying.
“Leibniz, tell the spaceport communication staff to route the signal to me as well.”
“This…” The adjunct hesitated. His superior seemed to have a penchant for prying into others’ privacy?
“Go!”
“Yes!”
The radio signal was routed to the bridge of the Sword of the Queen, on Darius’s encrypted channel. Traditional radio communication was obviously not as clear as quantum superluminal communication, filled with a crackling cosmic static. He heard a familiar female voice ask, “Princess?”
Darius confirmed on the screen that the Princess’s mouth wasn’t moving. She wasn’t speaking. It wasn’t a radio malfunction. The Major General scratched his jaw, not understanding why these women were hesitating so much. Just speak directly, what’s there to hesitate about! What a waste of communication budget!
“Joanna…” After a long pause, the Princess spoke again. “Stop calling me ‘Your Highness’. Just call me by my name.”
“Alveira? Is that alright?”
“Yes!” The Princess gently sniffed, making a sound like a sob. “Joanna, I…” The screen showed the Princess lowering her head and rubbing her eyes. “Can you sing for me?”
“…I sing off-key. Are you sure?”
“Sing for me!”
So Joanna hummed a simple melody, like a pianist idly striking a few piano keys. There were no lyrics—just a lullaby-like hum. The interference from the radio made the sound intermittent, like an ancient song of farewell transmitted from ancient times. Darius had never heard such a melody before; it might have been an impromptu creation by the female pirate, singing as she went.
The starry sky was silent. The galaxy stilled. In the boundless universe, darkness fell. Only this song’s melody drifted, transmitted from one end of the radio wave to the other, amplified through a speaker, echoing near the ear, perhaps continuing to drift in the universe like light, reaching far places long after, to be received by future generations. They would wonder about such a lyric-less song, speculate its origins, create legends. Until those legends were submerged by history, this song-carrying radio wave would also continue to drift, until one day its energy was exhausted on its journey, vanishing in the starry sky.
But that would be a long time from now. By then, Darius, Alveira, and Joanna might have completed their lives, their children also aged. The carriers of past events would eventually degrade completely, humanity’s brief history eventually obscured in the vast river of cosmic time. On that day, nothing would remain, nothing would be left. Stars would burn out their brilliance, turning into dust, scattered in the depths of darkness.
“Duke, Major General Bayes’s fleet has already departed from Leyting.”
In a luxurious hotel suite, the secretary whispered to the Duke. A sunset’s light passed through the curtains, landing on the gold-threaded red carpet. The Duke sat by the window with an ancient paper book on his lap. He carefully turned the pages, cautious not to damage them with too much force. Since acquiring the book, the Duke had been engrossed, spending almost all his time reading. The secretary dared not disturb such a focused Duke, only entering to report significant news.
The Duke expressed no sentiment about the major general’s departure, only lamenting, “It’s a pity that the two people meant to be killed are still alive,” then immersing himself back in the book. The secretary quietly left the room.
An hour later, the Duke summoned the secretary, ordering him to bring the prepared card reader machine. Due to technological advancements, information storage chips had evolved over dozens of generations, and modern computers could no longer read the content of ancient chips. The Duke had previously gone through great efforts to purchase a card reader machine from Neo Athens at a high price, capable of reading centuries-old chips.
The secretary called several bodyguards to bring the machine to the Duke’s room. The Duke turned to the last page, where a hollowed-out section in the hard cover contained a small chip. Winnet, wearing gloves, removed the chip, placed it in the card reader, and stepped back to watch the content display.
“This is information Captain Jacob copied risking his life, containing all the secrets about ‘Yasha’,” the Duke excitedly said. “With this, we can create our own ‘Yasha’, the ultimate weapon to dominate mankind… We can use it to rule the entire universe!”
The machine’s red light blinked rapidly, and after a few minutes, the screen suddenly lit up, displaying the message: “Welcome to the Galactic Diva Camilla’s Tour Concert.”
Kinky Translations 