Chapter 632: Factions

At a certain time, at a certain moment.

Time seemed to suddenly stand still.

Above the massive dark vortex, cracks split open one after another, and people constantly crawled out from within. It was as if a pomegranate had burst open, with pomegranate seeds rolling out one by one, or perhaps like a Surinam toad opening the pustules on its back, with countless tadpoles crawling out.

Half his face stained with blood, his clothes in tatters, Liu Hu crawled out from the Shadow and landed abruptly on a giant web, nearly falling through a mesh; he hurriedly reached out to grab it and scrambled up in a sorry state.

The giant web was woven from individual silvery-white threads, each twisted to the thickness of a hemp rope, yet they felt both silky and supple to the touch. Liu Hu recognized at a glance that these must be the silver threads he had just grabbed in the darkness.

Those silver threads should have been extremely tough; previously, when they were so thin, two Sword Guests pulling on one could not snap it. Now that they were twisted into a hemp rope, it was even less of a problem for one person to stand on them.

The problem was that this web was suspended in mid-air, at least ten zhang above the ground. Moreover, the area below was not empty ground, but that viscous Yingyuan liquid, resembling a vast swamp.

For a Sword Guest, a distance of ten zhang was nothing; even falling without protection would not necessarily be fatal, but not a single person dared to fall into that kind of liquid. There would likely not be a second Wu Shayu to lift them out of the Yingze.

Furthermore, the mesh of the web was far too large, a zhang wide and long; never mind standing vertically, one could easily fall through even lying horizontally. He wondered if any unlucky soul had just crawled out of the battle only to fall directly into the abyss.

The people who had luckily survived just now stood on the web, their hearts hanging in suspense, despairingly realizing that the disaster they had narrowly escaped was only just beginning.

Damn it...

Even Liu Hu could not remain calm; he cursed wildly in his heart: I only came to watch, I came to be entertained, I am a great noble and a big financier in Jingcheng, how did I get dragged into this, and how did I become the entertainment?

He truly regretted it immensely; this errand was not one that absolutely required him, but he had come voluntarily because he wanted the credit and even hoped to skim some profit in a place far from the Emperor's reach. Had he known it would be like this, he wouldn't have come even if they paid him a hundred thousand taels of silver.

Just in the battle that had just occurred, he had encountered another Sword Guest, and after a chaotic fight, he had finally luckily won, but a wound was left on his face that would likely be difficult to heal in the future. This counted as being disfigured.

Of course, Liu Hu saw the state of the other Sword Guests around him and knew his injury was still light; several were bathed in blood, with no telling how many wounds added to their bodies. Some were simply lying on the ropes, their two feet dangling in the air, looking as if they couldn't even stand up, like squid hung on a line to dry.

After all, everyone was a Sword Guest; even if there were differences in skill, was it easy to decide life and death in such a short time?

Yet Liu Hu felt that even if they were missing arms or legs, it was not as valuable as his own face. Those slave owners were merely scum of the Human World, and no one would care if they died, but his face had to be seen by the great figures in Jingcheng often; what would he do if it were disfigured?

At this moment, he saw several familiar manor owners huddled together, sighing and lamenting, and someone asked: "Everyone, who did you kill?"

The few looked at each other, and after a while, someone said: "It was too dark, I don't know."

Everyone nodded one after another, saying: "It was truly too dark, it was impossible to see who it was. Sigh, it was all a blur, a terrifying battle; we don't even know who we killed."

As if!

Liu Hu knew full well they were lying. Not to mention that one could hear each other's voices during the battle—if they were acquaintances, they should have recognized them—the moment the Shadow opened at the end, the light from outside shone in; as long as they weren't hacked beyond recognition, the victor could see at a glance who the loser was.

It was just that seeing it would be very troublesome.

If one did not know who the opponent was, this life-and-death struggle forced by necessity was absolutely unavoidable; the living fought to live, the dead died silently, no one was at fault, and the victor would not be blamed.

But if one knew who the opponent was, especially if the opponent was someone they were familiar with or even had a friendship with, then they would more or less bear the pressure.

After all, if they had already recognized the other party during the battle, then between two acquaintances, the one with the harder heart was more likely to win. The closer the relationship, the greater the advantage for the one who struck first.

The people still alive now at least did not have soft hearts.

But it was best not to speak of these things; everyone had a tacit understanding, and saying they didn't know was the right thing to do. Not knowing who they killed, not knowing who was killed by whom—this was good for everyone.

Liu Hu himself truly did not know who he had killed; it seemed to be a Sword Guest bodyguard for an outside slave merchant, whose strength was actually decent, but who lost in vision and means. Such people were truly pathetic; being a Sword Guest was one thing, but to protect a slave trader—it would have been better to just die. Thus, he bore no pressure at all.

Not everyone present was "blissfully ignorant"; Liu Hu saw a White-haired Swordsman lying on the ropes, weeping loudly, crying as if he had just lost a loved one, and he heard him wail: "Brother, I have failed you..."

Toward such people, Liu Hu was equally disdainful: Hypocritical. You know to cry now? Why didn't you hesitate when you struck just now? If you killed them, you killed them; if a man doesn't look out for himself, heaven and earth will destroy him. What is the point of shedding a few tears afterward? To show you are kind?

One should be as indifferent as he was, or like...

He turned his head and saw an acquaintance. It was that YoungMaster of Huanri Manor.

At the first sight of this YoungMaster, Liu Hu was actually startled.

The first surprise was that he was clean, without a trace of blood, not even a trace of having fought. This was extremely rare; unless it was a Sword Hero whose strength was clearly a cut above the rest, an ordinary Sword Guest could not be so presentable. He looked as relaxed as if he had just stepped out for a stroll. Liu Hu suspected he had struck at most one sword. And that sword was extremely fast, killing without leaving blood.

This must have been honed by killing many people.

The second surprise was the expression of this YoungMaster—he had no expression.

It was not numbness or blankness either, just a completely calm face, a standard face, as if it were a sketch used for an official government portrait, without a single excess muscle twitching.

This was the first time Liu Hu had seen a living person with this expression, and he never expected it to be from this YoungMaster, who was usually quite slick and eloquent.

Could this be his true side?

No wonder he vaguely felt this person's temperament was fractured—at times boastful, at times cautious, at times meddlesome, at times insidiously wicked—so it was all a disguise; he was actually a cold and heartless person. For a YoungMaster pampered in wealth to have this personality and to disguise himself this way, he must be a born evildoer.

Once Liu Hu thought of this, he couldn't help but think again: With this kid hiding so deeply, is there some conspiracy? Among the accidents these past few days, which one is related to him?

He did not know that Wei Se's calmness was not coldness, but simply exhaustion. When tired, one cannot make expressions. The reason he was tired was that he had not killed like an assassin for a long time; although he had only struck one sword, it had consumed all his energy, leaving him physically and mentally exhausted.

For a Sword Student to kill a Sword Guest with one strike, was that so easy? It required the right time and the right place, with everything under control.

But fortunately, the thing he worried about most did not happen. Although his opponent was an acquaintance, it was not from his own side.

Then he would not be polite.

After killing, he was very calm, as calm as if he had just finished a meal.

It was just that once he landed on the web, he knew various slaughters would follow one after another, perhaps forcing him to face all kinds of choices, inevitably leading to mutual slaughter; thinking of this, he could not help but feel physically and mentally exhausted.

As he looked up, he saw an acquaintance, Chi Mingjing.

She should have been at the First Tier, right? To have actually arrived here, it seems the Wangliang has dragged everyone into the water.

Chi Mingjing's body was only slightly stained with blood; clearly, that battle just now was not intense, and her strength was quite strong. But she did not relax like the others; instead, she was like a taut bowstring, as if she were about to thrust a fierce sword at any moment.

Her gaze was fixed intently on someone, filled with hatred. Wei Se followed her gaze and saw another acquaintance—the Jian Di Si Inspector, Fu Inspector.

What the hell?

Why did Chi Mingjing hate the Fu Inspector so much?

Wei Se only felt it was absurd, and immediately became nervous: If they had a private feud, it would be very easy for them to turn on each other. That would consume more than a little of his side's strength.

Which side should he stand on?

Neutral?

Neutral meant standing on the side of Fu Inspector, because Fu Inspector was far stronger than Chi Mingjing.

"Clap, clap, clap—"

A round of applause rang out; Wu Shayu appeared from nowhere and was standing in the center of the crowd.

"Congratulations to you all for successfully defeating your opponents and surviving. Now, congratulations on becoming true chess pieces. The web beneath your feet is the chessboard."

Wu Shayu did not care in the slightest about the angry gazes directed at him; after all, he had someone backing him, and hatred was like fine wine, making him feel better the more he drank. He said, "Although you are chess pieces, the great existences playing the game still give you a chance to choose. There are three factions for you to choose from as pieces. You may choose—"

Following his words, three pea-sized dots floated around each person, each a different color:

Gold, silver, and black.

"The three colors represent three factions. As for which three factions they are, or who is sitting behind the chessboard, you can guess for yourselves. Begin now, scramble for them."

Black... that should represent Lord Wangliang, right?

Everyone guessed this; it was easy to guess. Only a few people could roughly figure out the meaning of gold and silver.

"Silver is that Ruyi Sword, right? Gold should be Jinwu Dianxia? No... it could be Destruction!" Wei Se pondered to himself, "Does Destruction also have consciousness? Just like Jinwu Dianxia? Then he... which side is he on? Since there are three factions, does that mean he isn't standing on either side?"

That made sense; they had been separated for over a hundred years and had never been in contact, so why would he stand on the side of Ruyi Sword?

And he might not necessarily stand on the side of Jinwu either, right?

Then, should he choose silver?

Or take a gamble and choose gold, which is similar to Tang Xiansheng?

Or should he continue according to his identity, choose black as a matter of course, and act as an undercover agent in the Black Faction?

As he hesitated, Wu Shayu already said, "I advise you all not to hesitate; the number of people in the three factions is the same. Once a faction is full, it will not accept any more people."

Wei Se's heart stirred, and he deliberately hesitated for a moment; sure enough, with a swish, the black light dot dimmed.

The Black Faction was already full.

Fine, now he didn't have to worry about being suspected for not choosing Wangliang.

He still grabbed the gold; after all, Tang Zhao was the sun, so he would choose the color of the sun.

At the same time, Fu Xianchan also chose gold.

And Chi Mingjing, who had been staring at her, sneered and chose silver without the slightest hesitation!

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