Chapter 628: That's How It Is

This time is set to be longer than the first two.

Ilya stared anxiously at the Flame, even lightening her breathing.

"Are you sure?"

Weiba Daye's voice suddenly changed, no longer that flippant tone but a seriousness Ilya had never heard, "Are you sure you didn't missee? That girl expressionless? Scary? Would she swallow you in one bite?"

The ruby Magic Staff's shaft bent slightly, as if nodding. "Sure... I saw with my own eyes... it was her..."

Weiba Daye fell silent for a long while.

The Flame grew weaker and weaker, the face's outline grew ever more vague, until only a swirl of lapis-colored light remained, flickering faintly in the darkness.

"That girl,"

Its voice was very light, so light it seemed to drift from far away, "What exactly did she go through..."

Ilya stood there, not knowing what to say.

She watched the Flame brighten slowly, the face reappearing, its expression far more complex than before, as if something pressed on it that it could not shake off.

"You just said," Weiba Daye's voice returned to that flippant tone, though the force behind it was clearly forced, "What is Dongmu City doing with the Holy Grail War? And Master, Servant, and the like? What are those things?"

Ilya froze for a moment, then strained to recall the bits she knew.

"It's... seven people... and seven Servants... fighting... the winner can make a wish..."

She talked on and on, realizing she could say very little; most of it came from the ruby, some from overhearing Lin and Saber, fragmented, and even she felt she couldn't explain it clearly.

Weiba Daye, after listening, had his face shift into a subtle "old man, subway, mobile phone" expression—eyes half‑closed, mouth corner turned down, the whole face saying, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"So you mean,"

Its voice dragged out like squeezing toothpaste, "There are seven people, each with a henchman, seven groups fighting, the victor can make any wish? Anything at all?"

Ilya quickly nodded. "Roughly... that's it..."

"And you're the Master?"

Ilya nodded again.

"What about your Servant?"

"It's Zhigengniao Jiejie... her singing is beautiful..."

Ilya's voice lowered, "But she was captured by bad guys... I used two Command Spells to rescue her... now only one remains..."

Weiba Daye's Flame flickered once.

"What is a Command Spell?"

"It's... something that can command a Servant..."

Ilya raised the back of her hand; of the three Command Spells on it, only one remained, the bright red sigil glaring under the lapis-colored flame, "Once used, it's gone..."

Weiba Daye stared at that sigil for a long time, his facial expression growing even more complex.

"So now you're alone in this unknown damned place, your Servant not by your side, relying on a clumsy broken stick, still hoping to get out?"

The ruby in Ilya's palm flared sharply.

"I'm not... a broken stick..."

"Shut Up (Cocktail Technique), clumsy one."

Weiba Daye said irritably, then turned to Ilya, "You don't even know what's outside, you don't even know what became of that girl called Huo Huo, yet you dare run around alone?"

Ilya lowered her head, fingers clutching the ruby until her knuckles turned white.

"I... I don't know what to do... I just want to find Zhigengniao Jiejie..."

Weiba Daye looked at her demeanor, the Flame flickered again.

It wanted to scold her, saying, "You little brat has less courage than Huo Huo, a brain even dumber than Huo Huo, and with such meager skill you still dare to imitate others as a Master, still daring to venture here alone."

But it opened its mouth and said nothing, just hovering in midair, watching the small figure hunched over, clutching the Magic Staff.

"Fine."

It suddenly said, its voice tinged with resignation, "I'm bored anyway, so I'll help you look for that thing called Robin."

Ilya jerked her head up, the tears in her eyes not yet dried, but those eyes already lit up.

"Really?"

"False," Weiba Daye said irritably, "I'm just messing with you."

Ilya's eyes dimmed again.

Weiba Daye looked at her expression, the Flame flickered once more.

"Really, really! It's annoying! Can't I help you! Stop giving me that look!"

Ilya smiled.

She hugged the ruby, tilted her head back to stare at the lapis-colored Flame, and nodded vigorously.

Weiba Daye turned his face away, the Flame burning a bit brighter than before.

Perspective shift.

San Yue Qi one hand wrapped around Lin's waist, the other hand braced against the crooked rebar and broken slabs among the ruins, her whole body like a swallow skimming the ground, speed so fast that the surrounding building debris blurred into streaks of gray in her peripheral vision.

Lin was pressed to her side, her brown Tail protruding from behind the skirt, pressed against the outer thigh by the wind, the hairs at the tip swept backward like a tuft of grass flattened by a gust.

Lin kept her mouth tightly shut, not out of fear but because any wind that entered would block her throat; occasionally a muffled "slow down" slipped out between her clenched teeth, but the wind shredded the sound into fragments, even she couldn't hear what she said.

Bai Hang followed San Yue Qi at less than ten meters behind, her fluffy Fox Ears pressed to the top of her head by the wind.

She wielded no bow, her hands free to aid balance; each step landed exactly where San Yue Qi had just stepped, precise as if measured, even the splintered stones kicked up matched perfectly.

Her azure eyes squinted slightly in the dim light, pupils reflecting the pink figure ahead, yet her ears turned toward another direction—that was the direction Jing Yuan vanished, he had said he was scouting ahead and then gave no further word; the Command Spell was silent, nothing at all.

Jing Yuan was not among the three of them.

He took another path, up high, on the broken rooftops and crooked skybridges, places San Yue Qi might not even see when looking up.

Bai Hang could sense him, the Command Spell taut but unbroken, indicating he hadn't yet encountered anything requiring action.

This kind of silence didn't last long.

Bai Hang's ears moved first; the pair of Fox Ears that had just been pressed against the top of her head suddenly stood up, turned at an angle toward the left front, then flicked back quickly.

Her body reacted faster than her brain; her feet were already nailed to the ground, and she abruptly halted from a high‑speed sprint, the soles of her boots carving a shallow groove in the broken stones.

"Stop—!"