Chapter 69: Kill the King

Kill the King

"Hah." Chan Yi stood straight, coldly eyeing the sentinel whose emotions were under control. One had to admit, this was exactly what a clear-minded guide needed.

"Hold the chain well, don't underestimate the enemy." She conveyed via spiritual fluctuation to Fu Guang, turned, and her purple robe traced a graceful arc in the air.

The blond-haired girl stood in place, pondered a moment, then stepped up to follow Senior Chan Yi.

Yu Ran beside her shrugged, patted Fu Guang's shoulder, and curled her lips into an "Come on."

Fu Guang nodded in agreement, though she didn't really understand why Senior Yu Ran told her to "come on."

She glanced sideways at Xi Guang walking alongside her; his cold face showed no flicker, calmly meeting her gaze.

Had she overthought it? Fu Guang turned back as usual, walking forward while briefly pondering, then quickly dismissed it.

Better to think about what she might encounter soon.

Upon entering the territory of Yummengze, as its name suggests, water and sky blended into one; the sky and sea were both clear blue, like a mirror, making it impossible to tell where sky ended and sea began.

The water beneath her feet moved with her steps, stirring tiny ripples that spread outward, intersecting with others' ripples in expanding circles.

"Captain." The team member beside Lan An asked anxiously about his condition.

"Nothing." Lan An's emotions calmed, but his face remained grim and unpleasant; he continued to look at the blond girl's position, even with the intention of gradually approaching.

"That—" the team member had just begun to speak when Lan An cut him off.

In an instant, as if realizing something, he furrowed his brows: "Do you know her name?"

He stared unblinkingly at the longtime teammate; the crew-cut man, for some reason, the captain looked as if he wanted to devour him, his aura pressing down in layers, and he barely perceptibly shrank under that gaze.

The shark people are the overlords of the sea and the natural enemies of other marine creatures.

Normally they are preyed upon, just as plant-eating spirits fear carnivorous beasts; instinctively they are somewhat wary of the captain.

"Do you know her name? Answer me." Lan An repeated patiently, his blood racing, heart pounding fast, thudding in his ears.

He had a premonition that he would soon learn something.

The crew-cut man, under Lan An's gaze, nodded foolishly, "I know, it's called"—the words reached his lips but he couldn't utter them.

He vainly opened his mouth, but no sound came from his throat.

"Uh-oh, is he about to discover something?" After Xiao Lan arrived at Yummengze, she became very lively; at this moment, in Fu Guang's mind, she gloated over his misfortune, enjoying the spectacle as if it were no big deal.

Fu Guang recalled that when the well-meaning fish was clearly unconscious, she had blurted out, "Your Majesty."

That word, together with the crew-cut man's behavior, made her think of something.

Across the crowd, two pairs of blue eyes met, and the same phrase crossed both their minds: "to avoid uttering the name of the venerable."

Those of lower rank may not directly speak the name of those above them, for a name represents the person.

To ordinary people, a name is merely a reference, a label—just as the sea is called the sea and clouds are called clouds—it simply lets one clearly indicate what is meant, a simple and quick designation.

Conversely, those in power can feel that everyone who avoids speaking their name either grants them favor or inflicts punishment.

In past lives, the great demons always hid their names, for knowing a name would allow it to be used against them.

To speak its name is to call its fate.

Repeated often, the words become an intangible curse, the same for everyone.

And those who cannot be called—what are they?

Lan An curled his lip, his wanton gaze fixed on the thin, weak Fu Guang, his bare stare like a hook hanging on her.

Like a sword, he wished to trap her in a prison made solely of gazes.

Weak king, your subjects are watching you.

Those who seek to usurp authority, your gaze is too overreaching.

Fu Guang showed no fear, her gaze locking with Lan An's without yielding; this was a silent gunpowder, and anyone who sought to take her power was an enemy.

This was her first nominal enemy.

The unwilling-to-be-subordinate sentinel wished to eliminate the weak, not-yet-grown king.

Fu Guang read this from the sentinel's gaze, she smiled, the same sharpness fully revealed, she raised her hand and made a slash across her neck.

Her cold blue eyes fixed on the black-haired man, a fierce glint flashing in her pupils.

She turned around, realizing at some point the team had scattered, so it's no wonder no one stopped her.

Not far behind, Xi Guang's silver lashes drooped, shielding his cold golden eyes; he stood motionless there, as if asleep.

At some point a vast white mist rose, leaving only Fu Guang and her guardian sentinel, and the guardian sentinel was in a state beyond its normal condition.

Xiao Lan burst forth from the mental landscape, eagerly absorbing Yummengze's energy; the heavy white mist grew thin until two crack sounds rang out, and then it settled.

Fu Guang ran her hand over the smooth eggshell, finding two cracked lines on it.

The tiny one almost thought it was a dark spot on the shell, unable to see inside through the gap.

She tapped the shell with her fingertip; Xiao Lan, looking full and content, leaned slantingly against her palm, voice lazy and youthful saying, "I'm going to sleep; don't bother me whether there's anything or not."

Then with a swish, it vanished from Fu Guang's palm, leaving her laughing and crying; eating then sleeping, sleeping then eating—this spirit of hers was easy to keep alive.

Fu Guang paced over to the seemingly passed-out Xi Guang; the tall man lowered his head, his golden longsword plunged into the water.

It was like a statue she had seen sometime before; Fu Guang circled the sentinel twice, and in the mental conduit the sentinel's spiritual fluctuations were still fairly steady.

If the mental landscape hadn't been attacked, other conditions would have arisen; she wanted to help but didn't know where to begin.

Fu Guang surveyed the surroundings, finding little change from the start; yet when she looked at the water, she happened to meet her own inquisitive eyes reflected on the surface.

Fu Guang crouched, saw the person beneath the water blink at her, then detach from the feet connected to her.

From above, only the pattern on the sole of her shoe could be seen pressing on the water, alongside concentric ripples.

Then she saw "Fu Guang" casually sit down, take off her shoes and socks, toss them aside, and, with interest, dance barefoot on the water.

Fu Guang watched the dance; the girl's lithe limbs moved, and even from this angle she felt the dance was quite familiar.

"The Prayer for Life Dance." The face from her memory had long blurred, only retaining a lively voice.

"Praying for hope, celebrating rebirth." Fu Guang pondered ashore; they were beings of the Morning-Evening clan, for whom life is born in the morning and death comes at evening.

Every morning signifies a rebirth, every night is a death.

So what, life is short, cherish it as you go.

Just consider it a celebration of my rebirth, Fu Guang, come dance with me.

"Celebrating rebirth?" Fu Guang opened her palm; there was a small red mole on her wrist.

A mark that had never existed in her previous life.