Chapter 694: Plan Z

"What did you say?"

Miranda, who had just rotated down to rest, leaned on her sword and knelt on one knee, asking Komuto, who had come to pass the order, in disbelief.

"Retreat? Now?"

She worked hard to adjust her breathing and looked around. The Royal Guards were passing orders through gestures or whispers. Quite a few faces showed the same surprise, but for most, the expression flashed past and they obeyed in order, retreating.

"Then what about the enemy?"

Miranda looked toward the center of the field. At Toledo's command, the four skilled fighters besieging Lausanne retreated at the same time.

Lausanne II obtained a brief chance to breathe, but Toledo gave another order. Nate Neshy, who had been ordered to stand by for too long and was therefore full of anger, roared and leaped into the field, his sword striking out like a rainbow!

Clang!

Lausanne narrowly parried this sword, but Neshy's second sword immediately followed without pause!

"Interesting, young man." Lausanne's eyes brightened, though his movements did not slow. "You are even stronger than that girl with the Pegasus movement."

But the moment his words fell, Neshy's expression changed drastically. Shamed and furious, he roared, and his offense became even more urgent!

Although there was only one person, Neshy's blade flashed rapidly with astonishing momentum. Sword light covered every angle of his opponent's body, not at all inferior to the previous four-person siege. For a time, he actually suppressed Lausanne II until the latter could only defend and not attack, unable to advance a single step.

Miranda frowned repeatedly at the sight.

Strange.

This reckless fool had not been this strong when fighting her before, even two against one.

"Oh my, the mad dog is out of the cage... cough, sorry, lady, I mean..." Komuto at the side quickly corrected himself. He returned to the conversation with Miranda, his face troubled. "This is the prince's order: let the line run long and catch the big fish."

"This fish is not big enough?"

Miranda could not understand. "This fellow's strength is close to supreme class, and we were only a little short of..."

"He is in the supreme class, perhaps even stronger." A familiar voice came from behind them, unhurried and confident.

The two turned back. Mallos stood behind them, fully focused on the one-on-one duel in the field.

Komuto immediately straightened and greeted him. The Watchman nodded to him, signaling him to continue passing the order.

"Stronger?"

Miranda stood, flicking her longsword. "But he-"

At this moment, Mallos moved his arm and seized Eagle Soar from the female swordsman's hand!

Miranda was shocked and turned. "You-"

Damn it. She had only been momentarily unguarded just now, and that was why he...

Swish!

In the field, Neshy seized a chance and attacked with a dangerous killing move, sword wind hissing, but Lausanne II dodged it at the last possible instant.

Mallos' brows furrowed almost imperceptibly. He flicked the longsword in his hand and stabbed it into the ground.

"For the sake of agile and varied posture, the mainstream swordsmanship of the Pegasus line uses one-handed grips more often than two-handed grips." Mallos looked at Miranda. "But you have been using both hands to wield your sword continuously for more than five minutes."

"What does that have to do with what we are talking about-"

But in the next second, the Watchman seized Miranda's right wrist!

Miranda was shocked and angry. "What are you-"

"Because one hand can no longer hold on," Mallos said faintly.

Miranda froze at his words.

Mallos' expression did not move. He gently pulled off the female swordsman's black glove.

The female swordsman's right hand, covered in thick calluses and even somewhat deformed, was now trembling uncontrollably.

Her fingers were severely congested, red and swollen. There were even bloody scuffed marks at joints such as the web between thumb and index finger, and a cut on the back of her hand was still seeping blood.

Miranda's breathing quickened, and her gaze focused.

Looking at an injury far beyond his estimate, Mallos frowned.

"I know his sword is not easy to receive, and I know you have a strong will, but do you not feel pain?"

Miranda's expression changed. She pulled her hand back at once!

"Only a small injury."

She gritted her teeth and put the black glove back on, her face full of indignation, though her fingers could not stop trembling. "The key now is that we already occupy the advantage. No matter how strong his swordsmanship is, he cannot hold on much longer against many with few. Retreating at this time..."

"No offense intended," Mallos interrupted her, his words icy. "But from top to bottom in Star Lake Castle, everyone around the prince must obey my orders."

Miranda stopped dead.

Mallos narrowed his eyes. "Of course, by tradition, the prince's mistress is excepted."

Miranda clenched her teeth.

Mallos' expression did not change. He stared at her calmly.

"Yes, Lord Mallos." Several seconds later, the female swordsman took a deep breath, recovered her calm, stepped back, and bowed. "As ordered, sir."

That was right. She knew that although the prince himself had a gentle temperament and had approved her with his own words, her joining the Star Lake Guards halfway still made many people uncomfortable.

Some things were deep-rooted. They could not be solved by a leader's sentence or an order from above.

It was just like when she had first arrived at Broken Dragon Fortress. Those ordinary soldiers did not merely respect Officer Sonia; they supported her and saw her as one of their own. They could make those vulgar jokes with the Flower of the Fortress that made everyone laugh together.

But they would never make such jokes with Miranda. Even if they did, it was behind her back, and it would be the kind that made her deeply uncomfortable.

But...

Miranda looked at the Star Lake Guards around them, who were retreating one after another and slowly disappearing from sight.

But Paul had also joined halfway, including Wya and the mute. Yet they could fit in very well.

Why?

Miranda took a deep breath and turned around.

Forget it. Compared with Aishi, she was already far too fortunate.

At this moment-

"I have a plan."

Mallos' voice sounded, explaining:

"Code-named Z. It can kill this fellow at the smallest cost."

Plan Z?

Miranda raised an eyebrow and turned back.

"Really? How?"

As they spoke, Neshy's offensive reached a second climax. His attacks came faster and faster, each move linked to the next, step by step forcing Lausanne II into a state where he could not parry.

But Mallos' brows furrowed tighter and tighter.

"Go meet with the others. Hugo, I mean Standard-bearer Fubi, will explain it to you."

Miranda still wanted to ask, but stopped at the final moment. She bit her lower lip.

"I understand."

In the next second, the situation in the field suddenly changed. One second before Neshy attacked with a certain-kill sword, Lausanne sent out a sword from the most impossible angle, striking the former's wrist!

Neshy groaned in pain, and everyone's nerves tightened.

But Messenger Toledo charged into the fight from the side at the right time. Three plain and ordinary saber moves barely held off Lausanne's counterattack, giving the wounded Neshy a chance to be replaced and withdraw from the battle.

Faster than imagined.

Mallos pondered.

"Help me with something, lady. Go persuade Young Master Bozdorf. I can tell he also has objections to the order." Mallos snorted softly. "These noble-born young masters and young ladies from outside the guard who are hard to discipline truly give one headaches."

"I am not... I understand." Miranda was first displeased, but then controlled her emotions. "Yes. I will make sure Paul obeys orders."

Or obeys her sword.

Mallos looked at her reaction, his gaze subtle.

Miranda wanted to retrieve her weapon, but Mallos reached first and drew out Eagle Soar.

"An ancient imperial sword?"

"Reforged. Its former body was destroyed, so it lost many of its supposed miraculous powers," Miranda shook her head. "It cannot compare with His Highness' Falkenhaus family heirloom, Vigilant, or the heirlooms of other families..."

But Mallos shook his head in denial.

"Wrong. It is definitely better than the prince's sword. Much better."

Miranda froze.

Mallos moved his wrist and offered the hilt forward.

"Because he never uses it."

Miranda paused.

Several seconds later, she nodded and took Eagle Soar with a trembling hand.

"Remember today's feeling," Mallos said meaningfully.

"What?"

Mallos snorted lightly and looked at the two people dueling in the field.

"There are not often such opportunities, where a dozen super-class experts guarantee your absolute safety while a supreme-class expert who specializes in swordsmanship and shows no mercy serves as your free sparring partner, letting you stretch yourself between life and death and temper yourself into exceptional performance."

Free sparring partner, exceptional performance?

"Not only me," Miranda felt a little uncomfortable. She looked at the colleagues around them. "They are the same."

"No. They cannot. Most cannot. They can only be beaten," Mallos shook his head and turned to leave. "Just like when His Highness takes ancient imperial language lessons, Doyle also stands by the door and listens. But to his ears, it is all jabbering, with no benefit, at most helping him sleep."

Mallos turned back, leaving her a side profile.

"Only when one's level has been reached can one benefit from it."

Miranda looked at her trembling hands, thoughtful.

Several minutes later, the saber light Toledo was steadily guarding with became unstable. After receiving three of Lausanne II's swords in succession, he retreated several steps!

"Very good defense." Lausanne laughed coldly, sending his longsword forward. "But still not enough."

In the next moment, Toledo roared and rolled awkwardly along the ground, retreating away.

But Lausanne II did not pursue. He sensed something and turned back, discovering Mallos standing behind him with one hand on his sword hilt.

Around them, the guards had unknowingly vanished by more than half. The remaining scattered figures were also disappearing one after another into the distance.

Lausanne II frowned.

Strange.

Why had they given up so quickly?

With many against few, should they not have confidence, feel there was a great chance, and want to rely on a drawn-out battle to capture him alive, then...

"Why?"

Lausanne II's voice was hoarse.

"You clearly already caught me."

Mallos smiled and swept his peripheral vision around, confirming that the guard members were withdrawing in orderly fashion.

"You mean, you caught us?"

Lausanne II's gaze moved.

Bang!

Another firework exploded in the sky, illuminating the two who faced each other clearly.

"You stayed alone," Lausanne II faced Mallos directly, his gaze locked on the other party's sword. "Why?"

"This way, you do not need to chase the others."

Lausanne's gaze changed.

Mallos immediately asked in return:

"Why Lausanne? For a street nickname, there are so many powerful and famous folk heroes and thieves. Why choose this infamous villain and great bandit despised by others? Just to scare people?"

Lausanne II was silent for an instant.

"Like a name, people cannot choose their own nickname." His face was hidden beneath the mask, only his eyes shining. "Just like fate."

Mallos' brow moved.

"Mm. A little profound."

Lausanne II snorted coldly and was about to strike, but Mallos hurriedly raised a hand before himself, signaling for him to wait.

"All right, all right. I admit this: purely in swordsmanship, you can be called miraculous. Among the warriors I have seen, you can rank in the top two."

Mallos' gaze moved.

"Even not inferior to Master Shaoyu of the Tower of Eradication."

Lausanne II said nothing.

"As for your physical quality..."

Mallos pondered for a while.

"You were besieged and fought fiercely for a long time, yet you show no panting. Your movements have not warped, your attacks are as steady as before, your center of gravity is perfectly balanced, and your footwork is not disordered in the slightest." The more the Watchman spoke, the graver he became. "More terrifying is that the intensity of every strike can be maintained at an extremely high level without decline."

The way Lausanne II looked at him slowly changed.

"And there are your injuries. Although I do not know how many wounds you suffered before we arrived... you could not also be unable to feel pain, could you?"

Mallos sighed.

"In short, such abundant stamina, such terrifying physical quality, I have only seen it in the Wrath of the Kingdom."

It completely did not match the previous intelligence.

Thinking this, Mallos changed direction.

"Does all this have something to do with the Anomalous Descent just now? Did you use some... inhuman power?"

Lausanne II was silent for a while.

"Not bad knowledge and eye," he said faintly. "I wonder about your strength?"

Mallos smiled and shook his head.

"Uh, my strong point is not fighting."

In the next second, with a boom, another firework exploded in the sky, and Lausanne's blade instantly stabbed before Mallos' eyes!

Damn it!

Mallos gritted his teeth and drew his sword, barely parrying the sudden strike!

It seemed he had to fight whether he wanted to or not.

Lausanne II's sword trembled in the air and, along with the flickering light and shadow of the fireworks, attacked again. Mallos could only swing with all his strength and block two attacks in succession!

"You said just now that you are the Watchman?"

Lausanne strolled as if in a courtyard, yet pressed forward step by step. The longsword in his hand was sometimes fast and sometimes slow, his offense free and relaxed, matching perfectly with his footwork.

Clang!

By contrast, Mallos' strenuous parries looked as if he were barely holding together, continuously retreating.

"Yes?"

"Absurd."

Lausanne snorted coldly.

"I remember that the previous Watchman of the Royal Guards was absurdly strong. Joaquin praised him repeatedly. Even someone as proud as Bruno willingly admitted inferiority."

Lausanne II's longsword attacked from another direction.

"How did it pass down to you and become so absurdly weak, even worse than your subordinates?"

Mallos defended with difficulty, falling completely passive.

"For a Watchman, the most important thing is not, not martial skill..."

But before he could finish, Lausanne II's longsword moved like thunder, descending from the sky!

Bad!

Swish!

Amid the whistling wind, Mallos retreated three steps and awkwardly avoided this killing blow!

The field returned to silence, until Lausanne coldly pulled his longsword from the ground where Mallos had just stood.

"So that is it. Your personal skill is not much," the black-clothed killer said, his tone easing slightly. "But your intuition and judgment, including your evasive movement, are quite good. Very suitable for being a commander."

In the next second, Lausanne changed direction again, and sword wind howled!

"Sitting in the rear, keeping yourself safe, then sending others to die!"

Seeing no way to avoid it, Mallos could only meet him head-on!

Clang!

With a sharp ring, the Watchman dropped to one knee, his longsword raised above his head, firmly blocking Lausanne's vertical slash.

Lausanne occupied the high position. His damaged blade pressed down on Mallos' weapon. Combined with his weight, it made Mallos tremble and unable to move.

"You know, sending others to die..." Mallos held on and spoke with difficulty. "Is much harder than dying yourself."

"That is right," Lausanne mocked with a cold laugh. "People who want to send others to die all think that way."

During the contest of strength, the two swords bent slightly and groaned.

Mallos gritted his teeth, watching the sword edge slowly press closer and straighten, but suddenly laughed.

"What you said just now was right. My predecessor as Watchman had superb martial arts and few in the world could rival him."

He panted with effort.

"But no matter how superb martial arts are, they could not, could not save him."

Mallos' gaze sharpened.

"Or you."

In the next second, the Power of Eradication that had been building inside him collapsed with a crash.

Mallos released his sword hilt, spun, and dodged Lausanne's downward killing slash from above!

Chi!

With a muffled sound, Lausanne's blade cut into the earth.

But the black-clothed killer's gaze tightened. Mallos had flashed to the side, silver light flickering in both hands, sweeping toward Lausanne II's throat.

Lausanne II's heart sank. He threw his head back and barely avoided Mallos' silver-flashing hands!

Swish!

With a muffled sound, Mallos' hands swept past, bringing out a trace of blood.

Lausanne II groaned and retreated with extremely quick reaction.

But Mallos followed directly, like a shadow, sticking close to Lausanne and refusing to let him open distance. The two were so close there was no way to avoid!

Swish! Swish! Swish!

After three consecutive muffled sounds of clothing and even flesh tearing, Lausanne II roared, shook his long arm, and the two figures finally separated!

Mallos was "torn" from him like a sticker and fell to the ground with a thud.

This exchange ended, and the field returned to quiet.

"Close-quarters wrestling from the prairie," Mallos coughed painfully and rose from the ground. "It seems swordsmanship is not the only thing you are good at."

Opposite him, Lausanne II was in a sorry state. He handed his sword to his left hand and raised his right hand, which was covered in blood, looking in disbelief at the countless wounds from shoulder to forearm. One of them had nearly reached a vital point on his chest.

The black-clothed killer lowered his arm and looked at Mallos.

The Watchman held two strange daggers in his hands. One had an odd curve with a hooked edge, while the other had smooth lines but a serrated blade.

At this moment, both ominous-looking daggers dripped blood.

"So that is it. Your nonsense earlier, including your clumsy and unbearable swordsmanship, were only decorations to mislead the eye. What you are truly good at is this pair of short weapons." Lausanne II understood. "The prince's dagger, including his throwing-knife trick, were taught by you?"

Mallos sighed, feeling the weakness inside him.

What a pity.

He had clearly been so close.

"I do not have that qualification or honor." The Watchman flipped both palms. The two daggers shook in the air, scattering blood, and miraculously disappeared. "As a Jadestar, it is better for him to play fewer tricks and properly learn Imperial Wind swordsmanship."

Lausanne II was silent for a while. He stared tightly at Mallos' hands, his gaze moving slightly.

"Those two daggers... one hooks and one cuts, one upright and one reversed; when the twin blades cross, blood light appears at once." Lausanne II hummed out a proverb, his tone changing. "You are from House Mallos?"

Mallos frowned.

"Old Joaquin had an old acquaintance."

Lausanne snorted softly, answering the doubt in his heart.

"In the imperial age, many knights carried daggers as secondary weapons. But only the hereditary imperial torturers of House Mallodios, or rather, House Mallos as it has been passed down to today, treated close-quarters dagger fighting as their main skill, surpassing saber, sword, archery, and riding. They could be called heretics of Imperial Wind martial arts."

Mallos' expression changed.

As expected, this black-clothed killer was broadly knowledgeable and could be called a martial arts master.

Lausanne clicked his tongue.

"But I heard Turnbull say this whole family colluded with rebels and was wiped out in the Bloody Year. What, are you a fish that slipped through the net?"

In that instant, Mallos did not move.

Lausanne II did not urge him either. He did not even bother with the terrible wound on his hand, focusing entirely on Mallos.

"I lied."

After a long while, Mallos spoke softly.

"Regarding your background, the Standard Wing did not find much." The Watchman slowly raised his head, emotion difficult to distinguish in his eyes. "Not as much as the Watchman's records."

Lausanne II's gaze changed slightly.

"That is right. Master Joaquin took in squires nine times in succession. However, on the eighth occasion, he took in two squires at once, including Joao Aknight." Mallos' expression was flat, utterly unconcerned. "But the other squire of humble birth, for certain reasons, had his name and deeds become taboo long ago."

Lausanne II tightened his grip on his sword. His blood flowed over the hilt and down the blade.

"Joe Boyer."

Mallos spoke softly.

"Or should I say, Squire Boyer?"

Pop!

Another firework exploded.

Joe Boyer.

Lausanne II stood rigidly in place.

That name had been forgotten for a very long time.

"My name is Lausanne," he said subconsciously.

Mallos smiled.

"More than thirty years ago, at the Emerald Celebration's Selection Tournament, you secretly wore Squire Aknight's armor and charged into the final round, barely losing to the 'Sword of Returning Light,' Prince Horace, who had returned from the Tower of Eradication, swept through the strong, and ultimately took first place."

The Selection Tournament.

The Sword of Returning Light.

Lausanne II trembled slightly.

"Although you were impersonating someone else, your first appearance was outstanding, and you were Master Joaquin's prized student. You should have become famous young," Mallos continued, his voice steady. "Yet soon afterward, you made a monstrous mistake, causing the king's eldest son, Midier, to fall from his horse and suffer grave injuries."

The king's eldest son.

Lausanne II was dazed for an instant.

But after only a few seconds, he laughed coldly.

"Fell from his horse? Grave injuries?"

The black-clothed killer's face was hidden behind the mask.

"What else do you know?"

Mallos narrowed his eyes.

"The king's eldest son fell into a deep coma, bedridden and near death." The Watchman's tone darkened. "Queen Natalie, pregnant at the time, loved her son dearly, and in worry and fear, unfortunately went into premature labor. Her body was harmed, and she died of illness."

"The late king lost wife and son in succession, filled with grief and rage," Mallos observed Lausanne's reaction. "Therefore, everyone involved was punished harshly. As for you, your sword was destroyed and your armor taken. Your hand was branded, your name removed. All honors were stripped from you, and you were imprisoned in the Prison of Bones. Even the runner-up name you left at the Selection Tournament was erased, and for many years no one dared mention it."

Destroyed sword, taken armor, branded hand, removed name...

Lausanne slowly lowered his head and looked at his sword hand.

Mallos sighed.

"Only after the Sacred Tree Kingdom sent a spiritual medicine did the king's eldest son finally wake and recover. He then showed mercy one by one and pardoned those involved that year, even though because of this he had lain ill for years, failed to see his mother one last time, and afterward was frail and sickly, unable to walk freely."

Lausanne II laughed coldly.

"Mercy. Pardon. Ha. Midier, how noble." He spoke through gritted teeth, each word filled with hatred.

Mallos took a deep breath and moved his hands.

"The rest of the story is probably that you met people from the Blood Bottle Gang in prison. After leaving prison, you had nowhere to go, so you willingly degenerated and began doing the dirty work of murder and silencing."

"Then, on a night many years later, you encountered a fellow student who was far inferior to you back then but had now risen high and served before the throne as a Royal Guard: Sir Aknight."

"Haha!"

Without warning, Lausanne II suddenly looked up and laughed. "Had nowhere to go? Hahahaha. Willingly degenerated? Hahahaha!"

Mallos frowned lightly.

Lausanne laughed for more than ten seconds before gradually stopping. His eyes looked toward Mallos again.

Mallos breathed out.

"Perhaps you do not know, but Master Joaquin was ultimately implicated by you. Filled with guilt, he resigned and returned home to live in seclusion," the Watchman shook his head. "He barely made a living by teaching children basic swordsmanship. He drank all day, his final years bleak, and died depressed."

"He deserved it."

Lausanne II interrupted without hesitation, his words filled with complicated hatred. "He deserved to live worse than death, to drown in the dream he wove for himself."

Mallos frowned tightly.

Several seconds later, he raised his brows and sighed.

"Do you know why someone who received the punishment brand can still wield a sword normally?"

Lausanne's gaze moved.

"Back then, my great-uncle was in the guard's Punishment Wing. He was responsible for executions and interrogations. Of course, that included punishment brands." Mallos raised his head and looked at Jade City's night sky, made colorful by fireworks. "As you said, he and Master Joaquin were old acquaintances."

Lausanne II tightened his grip on the sword in his hand.

But Mallos' words turned cold.

"But my great-uncle was not someone who perverted the law. Nor was the guard a place beyond the law. Do you think he truly dared, or truly could, practice favoritism and let you off under the eyes of so many colleagues?"

The field was silent for several seconds.

"The truth is, on the night before your punishment brand was to be carried out, Master Joaquin, whose life of noble integrity was worthy of a knight's model and whose sword study made him a martial arts master, violated the ban and forced his way through the palace gate..."

Mallos narrated steadily, his tone calm.

"Before the late king and the entire court, Master Joaquin removed his helmet, the helmet the late king had granted him..."

He said softly,

"And smashed his own sword hand."

The one who defeated Lausanne II was not Black Sword, but someone else?

Thales walked on the road, carefully thinking about this sentence.

At this moment-

[Xi gu kalana.]

Mm?

What sound?

Thales' gaze moved and he turned his head back.

Hilley still looked as wretched and full of worries as before. Srimanny seemed absent-minded and tripped from time to time. Glover looked gloomy as he supported both Ralf and Catherine...

Everything was normal.

Strange.

Had he heard wrong?

Thales shook his head and continued walking.

Next, they needed to go to Emerald Palace. It should be in this direction...

Mm?

Thales froze again.

Emerald Palace... Emerald Palace was, which direction?

In that instant, he stared blankly at his feet and once again felt:

Never Lost had failed.

He had lost direction again.

Thales subconsciously looked left and right.

Left and right, front and back, all around... faint and ominous white smoke rose again around them.

[Mi tara naka...]

It came again.

Strange and stiff syllables murmured from the distance, blurry and unclear, with no logic and unknown meaning.

Thales grew anxious and turned to call the others.

Do you see it? Everyone? This strange white smoke, just like in the tunnel, and... what is going on?

Mm?

Thales froze.

It felt so strange.

But he had no time to think and only continued anxiously calling everyone.

I am asking you! Speak! Do you see this white smoke? Why-

In the next second, Thales' heart paused.

The boy took a deep breath and instantly realized: no, he was not speaking.

He had not even opened his mouth.

He had not even moved his tongue or teeth.

He had not even seen everyone behind him.

All he saw was the mysterious white smoke slowly steaming upward.

He only felt, felt as if he had said those words.

Just like when half asleep and half awake, one always wants to do something, and always thinks one has done something: bought the thing one wanted most, achieved the greatest ideal, finished the hardest homework...

But in truth, in the dream, you did nothing.

You could accomplish nothing.

Thinking of this, Thales panicked and suddenly turned back to shout.

Do you see it? Hilley! Glover! Ralf! What is going on? What happened to us? Answer me!

The surrounding white smoke grew thicker and higher.

Thales roared with all his strength.

But he realized again: he had done nothing. He had not turned back, not shouted, not roared.

He only moved forward step by step in a daze.

Half asleep, half awake.

Wait. This feeling... Thales was incomparably tense. Did Lausanne II catch up? Was this his ability?

When had he been caught?

How should he wake up?

But.

No.

Thales shook his head, or rather, he felt that he shook his head.

But instinctively, he felt: this time was different.

Different from the dream illusion Lausanne had given them, that had seemed almost solid.

It was like...

Like sleep paralysis, where the mind is clear, but one can do nothing.

Like he had turned into a walking corpse, only his soul trapped inside his body, crying to heaven and earth yet helpless.

He could not blink, could not speak, could not even move a finger.

He could only maintain his previous action and quietly move forward, waiting to be slaughtered...

What should he do?

[Xi gu kalana mosa fumiya...]

The strange syllables pierced through the white smoke again and came from the distance, still impossible to understand.

Thales froze.

Wait. He had heard these syllables before. He had just heard them. These were not dream murmurs!

They were...

In the next second, Thales shuddered!

Beep-

A burst of tinnitus came, but this time, Thales could do nothing and could only endure it painfully.

Beep, beep-

But the tinnitus quickly disappeared.

Gurgle. He only felt his ears block and clear, as if surfacing from water.

At the same time, those strange syllables seemed to jump in his ears and automatically turn into recognizable language.

[Please, not now.]

It was a familiar voice, speaking words he could understand.

And it came from... beside him?

Thales was shocked and wanted to turn back, but no matter how he tried, he could not see the person beside him. Only then did the boy realize: he could not move.

[Then when else could it be, Cecilia, my darling girl of yearning...]

A chilling, hoarse voice came from behind him. The moment it sounded, Thales felt his whole body trembling, goosebumps rising.

Cecilia?

That name was...

[All right. Who are you this time?] the familiar voice said.

Thales frowned, or thought he frowned.

[Ha, how would I know? A cruel and brutal prince who killed his own brother? There are plenty in history, far too many... Your family has quite some experience too, does it not...] This was the voice that made people panic and fear.

Thales slowly reacted. Two people were talking.

Although he was beginning to understand these words, they seemed separated by a layer of water... he had to work very hard, very hard, very hard to hear clearly.

And at this moment, Thales' thoughts also seemed to have slowed. Several seconds had to pass before he barely understood the meaning.

[All right. What did you do to Lausanne II, to that black-clothed killer?] This was the familiar voice, carrying disgust and impatience.

And... forcibly suppressed fear?

Wait. Lausanne II, black-clothed killer...

He seemed to have an impression?

[So he is a killer. Interesting.] The chilling voice that made one unable to stop trembling came again.

It seemed... right beside his ear.

Thales swallowed, if he really made such a movement.

[Do not play that game with me!]

[I did nothing. I only helped him a little.] The chilling voice sounded perfunctory and unconcerned.

[Help?] The familiar voice suppressed anger.

What were they talking about?

It seemed very familiar, yet also very... strange?

Thales frowned tightly.

No.

No, he could not go on like this.

He had to hear clearly. He had to understand. He had to react!

Ahhhhhhh-

Thales used all his strength, though he did not know how he was supposed to try, but in the next second...

Boom!

A thunderous sound filled his eardrums, and Thales' entire body trembled violently.

It was the Sin of Hell's River.

The familiar Power of Eradication made Thales both shocked and delighted.

It was an old friend!

Come quickly!

Help me!

Thales roared.

[A little psychological guidance, a heart-to-heart conversation, so he no longer hates himself, no longer hides himself, and becomes more... open and true?] Outside, the panic-inducing voice seemed quite content.

[He went mad! You almost got us killed!]

[But are you not perfectly fine?]

The Sin of Hell's River expanded slowly and with difficulty, like lava that had been instantly cooled and was now reigniting from within, working hard to roll forward and climb over a high wall.

Inch by inch, bit by bit.

Finally.

Splash!

The Sin of Hell's River crossed the wall with a thunderous boom!

It flowed again, rose again, burned again.

Like an animal that had been missing for a long time and had finally returned to its territory, it violently crashed back and forth inside Thales.

Boom!

Thales' eardrums seemed to be pierced through by the Sin of Hell's River, aching and numb, with an indescribable burning sensation.

But...

"Yes, I am perfectly fine! Perfectly fucking fine! Fine enough to 'die'!"

The familiar voice became much clearer, filled with sarcasm that was not unfamiliar to him.

It was a girl.

A girl?

Thales, whose thoughts were slowly returning to normal, suddenly reacted.

It was Hilley!

It was her. It was her and... and someone else talking?

"But according to this transaction, you walked out of the sewer."

The chilling voice came, clear and precise, long and warm. Yet for some reason, the moment Thales heard it, he could not stop trembling.

This... who was this?

At this moment, who was walking behind him, talking to Hilley?

He still could not turn his head, but his Hell's senses, which had returned, let him capture the situation behind him with incomparable clarity.

Glover's steps were steady, but he said nothing, deaf to everything around him, walking forward as if the most important thing in his entire life was to keep his head down and walk.

No, not only him. Ralf, Catherine, Srimanny... all of them advanced like walking corpses, completely unconcerned with their surroundings.

Even though the white smoke before them had already become thick fog, covering heaven and earth, making it impossible to see the way ahead.

"Yes," Hilley said coldly. "Now the transaction is complete. You can scram."

"Yo, do not learn the temple's way of doing things," that voice was lazy and shrewd. "We finally meet. Would it not be nice to catch up and chat?"

"I have nothing to chat about with you."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that!" Hilley rejected in one breath, her attitude firm.

"Really?" That voice suddenly lowered, making Thales shiver along with it. "My lovely six-fingered girl, will you not think about it again?"

"Think about what?"

"Do not play dumb, dear." That terrifying voice drew out the final sound. "According to the transaction, you safely walked out of the sewer, body complete, soul intact... but me, where is my payment?"

Hilley was silent for an instant.

"That Lausanne II just now, he is your reward," Hilley's voice trembled lightly. "His soul, life, flesh, senses, wisdom, faith, memories, experiences, knowledge, personality, or whatever other hard currency you like. Take it however you want. No need to be polite."

Thales' thoughts moved.

He instantly realized: what Hilley was saying now was not the common language.

Nor was it any other language, at least not a language Thales could identify.

Rather...

"See, dear, you are making assumptions again. Fairness in a contract is not only written on paper, not only left in speech..."

That voice spoke kindly, like a defense lawyer kindly accepting a client's consultation.

"It exists even more in the heart."

In the next second, it spoke patiently and peacefully, word by word, yet making Thales panic more and more.

"My dear Cecilia Regina Bella Covendier, do you truly think that you invited, or rather urgently requested, me to come up to the mortal world, made me endure the pain of crossing worlds and passing barriers, endure the filthy and turbid air, even risk being discovered, expend energy and stamina to help you block blades and ward off disaster, and then you casually hand that supreme-class enemy to me as payment and tell me to go back where I came from. Do you truly think this is a fair and just transaction?"

"Then..." Hilley's words paused, then immediately became self-righteous. "Yes!"

In that instant, although he could not turn back, Thales could almost see Hilley's face: that overbearing expression he often saw, the one that did not care and said, "What can you do to me?"

Even that terrifying voice stopped for one second.

"Hahahahaha!"

It burst into earth-shaking laughter, sometimes high and sometimes low, making the thick fog around them fluctuate.

"I just love your shameless look! Every time, every time it kills more people!"

Hilley's words paused.

"Shut your stinking mouth," when she spoke again, Thales could hear the anger between her clenched teeth. "Go back where you came from!"

"Ah, heartless partner." It was not angry at all, seeming accustomed to this. "No matter. Collecting debts must be done personally."

"I have no reward to give you, and I owe you nothing! Because you made things worse!" Hilley panted anxiously, her reply somewhat out of control.

"But that is not a reward. That is the payment I am owed." It spoke slowly and unhurriedly.

Thales listened for a while, then suddenly his heart jumped. The Sin of Hell's River was rumbling.

He shuddered and reacted. What was going on?

Hilley, what had Hilley done?

That voice...

What was going on?

What was going on?

What was going on?

"What is going on!"

Thales could not help saying.

"What is this?"

He abruptly turned his head and shouted:

"He... what is it?"

But the instant the words left his mouth, Thales was shocked and immediately reacted. He had succeeded.

He had successfully moved.

He had turned around?

The air fell quiet.

White fog shrouded the surroundings. Everything beyond a few feet was hazy, visibility extremely low.

Behind Thales, Hilley looked at the turned-around Thales in shock, her face pale with fright.

"You... you are fine? You woke up?" Hilley said blankly.

As if she had discovered for the first time that there was still a person here named Thales.

But.

Only her.

Thales stared blankly at Hilley. Behind him, there was only her.

There was no second person. The others were all walking forward with full focus, like walking corpses.

Then just now...

"Aiya, aiya, now this is interesting."

In that instant, countless goosebumps rose across Thales' body!

Because the voice came from behind.

Behind his... ear?

Thales subconsciously wanted to turn back, but Hilley grabbed his face with both hands!

"No, do not look at it!"

Hilley's face was full of fear as she shouted anxiously.

"Stay awake. Do not look at it. Do not think of it. Treat it as a dream, and it cannot-"

But her voice instantly disappeared, leaving only her lips moving up and down.

As if she had suddenly been muted.

Hilley also realized this. She looked behind Thales, eyes wide and mouth open, terrified beyond measure.

"Look, dear Cecilia, you should have said so earlier..."

That voice sounded lightly, surprised and pleased.

At that moment, Thales' nerves tightened, and his whole body went weak!

He felt it.

An icy touch came from his neck.

It was it.

Something gently hooked around Thales' neck, like a mother caressing her son. "It" touched, stroked, and caressed.

Hilley's gaze was terrified, her expression anxious, and she subconsciously shook her head.

No, no, no!

Her eyes glittered, and tears even seeped from the corners.

But all that answered her was a low and ominous laugh.

"Heh heh heh heh..."

That existence spoke again. But this time, Thales could feel that "its" words were filled with unimaginable malice.

"You do have money to pay the bill after all, do you not?"