Chapter 19: Timely Rescue (Patreon)

When Wangquan Baye woke up, the last image in his mind was himself raising a sword and cutting down toward his own sister.

He jerked upright, his forehead slamming into something hard — Li Quzhuo's skull. The two of them let out identical yelps and rolled apart, each clutching his own forehead.

"Boss, what was that for?!" Li Quzhuo said, his eyes practically welling with tears.

"I—" Wangquan Baye stared blankly at his own hands, then looked around at the people sprawled across the ground in every direction.

At the same time, he also saw Ji Wuji's charred, still-smoking corpse, and Li Zizai's remains — all four limbs sheared clean off.

Wangquan Baye froze on the spot, the blood in his veins seeming to freeze solid in an instant.

Ten of them had banded together to venture Beyond the Circle. In the span of just a few hours, two of them were already gone for good.

The survivors slowly broke free from the deranged state the black mist had inflicted on them, their heads splitting with pain, their bodies drained of strength. Fragments of the frenzied slaughter they'd inflicted on each other still lingered in their minds. The moment they came back to their senses and took in the carnage before them, the whole group fell dead silent.

Li Quzhuo's legs gave out, and he collapsed straight into the muddy gray dirt. His face was ghost-white, his lips trembling for a long moment without a single word coming out.

Mu Shenqi clenched his fists, every muscle in his body taut. His eyes were full of lingering fear and regret — the savage killing intent from when he'd been controlled still lurked somewhere deep in his mind. Just thinking about how close he'd come to cutting down a companion with his own hands sent a cold shiver through his whole body.

Yang Yitan hung his head, his shoulders trembling faintly. The light of the Yang family's Heavenly Eye had gone dim — he'd been the first one Phantylia planted a hidden seed in, and step by step it had sown discord among them, stirring up everyone's darkest emotions until this massacre of mutual slaughter was born.

Wangquan Baye's throat worked convulsively. His chest felt crushed under a massive boulder, and a suffocating wave of guilt crashed over him without mercy.

He was the leader of this team. He'd insisted on ignoring the Way of Great Peace's warnings, determined to push Beyond the Circle to seek out some so-called "truth." His stubbornness, his refusal to listen to anyone, had ended up getting his companions killed.

What broke him even further was the image that wouldn't leave his mind—

his own eyes blood-red, sword in hand, cutting down without hesitation toward his own sister, Wangquan Zui. The icy sensation of the blade slicing through flesh still seemed to linger on its edge even now.

Then he began searching frantically for any sign of Wangquan Zui: "Sis, little sister, Wangquan Zui..."

"Wangquan Zui—!"

Wangquan Baye's voice tore across the wasteland, shrill and desperate as a wolf backed into a corner with nowhere left to run.

He flipped over one collapsed companion after another like a madman, his hands shaking so badly he could barely hold his sword — until a small, cold hand reached out from the side and patted him on the shoulder.

"Brother, I'm right here."

Wangquan Baye spun around.

His sister stood behind him, whole and unharmed. Aside from a face pale as paper and a shocking splotch of blood staining her clothes, she looked... intact, somehow.

Her waist wasn't severed. Her neck wasn't severed. Both her legs stood firmly on the ground, and she even had the strength to roll her eyes at him.

"You—" Wangquan Baye's voice caught in his throat. His eyes moved from his sister's face to her waist, then back to her face, sweeping across her three times over, confirming that the body he'd severed with his own hands had been reattached without a single seam showing. "How are you... I clearly..."

"The Daoist of Great Peace picked me up and put me back together," Wangquan Zui said, pointing at the man not far off who was in the middle of sealing the Black Fox. "His technique was pretty slick, honestly. He just didn't bother with anesthesia while stitching me back on. Hurt like hell."

Tears streamed down Wangquan Baye's face all at once.

The young master of the Wangquan family was, at that moment, crying like a three-year-old who'd just had his candy snatched away.

He yanked his sister into his arms with enough force that she nearly got hurt all over again, repeating the same words over and over: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"All right, all right, quit wailing." Wangquan Zui shoved his face away in apparent disgust, though there wasn't a trace of real annoyance in her tone, and her own eyes had quietly gone red.

[March 7th: Waaah, sibling love, so touching I could cry! I love how Wangquan Zui acts tough but is such a softie underneath!]

[Kiana Kaslana: Going from Wangquan Zui, to sliced Wangquan Zui, back to whole Wangquan Zui again — that's basically a medical miracle.]

[Hu Tao: Although, that said, This Director is far more curious whether the Daoist of Great Peace assembled her on the spot or took her back somewhere to put her together.]

[Dan Heng: Given his strength, he probably reattached her right there using spiritual power.]

The touching reunion between brother and sister didn't last long, because the commotion from Gusttave's direction dragged everyone's attention away.

The sealed Black Fox avatar slammed against the golden barrier again and again, shrieking a piercing wail. Every impact sent a ripple shuddering across the barrier's surface, yet it couldn't breach even the slightest fraction of it.

Her stunning face twisted out of shape, the mockery that once filled her eyes long since replaced by humiliation and fury. Through the thin wall of light, she glared at Gusttave with a stare that could kill, her voice shrill enough to shred an eardrum.

"Daoist of Great Peace! You dare lay hands on This Sovereign? Once my true body descends, I'll make sure you can neither live nor die!"

"You villains keep recycling the same handful of lines. Could you try for a little originality?" Gusttave yawned, slapping a talisman onto the barrier without much thought. The Black Fox avatar's shrieking was instantly muffled, leaving only a dull buzzing, like a fly trapped under a glass cup. "What was the name of the last one who talked this tough at me... oh right, Master Poison. He's still in prison running a sewing machine. Want me to reserve you one too?"

[Kiana Kaslana: Running a sewing machine?! Ha ha ha, prison offers that kind of job now?!]

[Zenless Zone Zero · Belle: Labor reform — a classic, honestly.]

[Jade: An avatar of the mighty Lord Ravager, compared to some guy running a sewing machine — now that's a real insult.]

The Black Fox avatar shook with rage, the black mist around her churning even more violently, yet still unable to break through that thin veil of golden light.

Gusttave paid her no more attention. He casually stuffed the sealed orb of light into the pouch at his waist and turned to face the Masked Daoists members sprawled across the ground.

The smile on his face faded a little.

These reckless little punks who didn't know how high the sky was lay scattered every which way. Some were still unconscious, some had just woken and were still dazed, and some were already awake but didn't dare meet his eyes.

Two bodies lay on the ground — Ji Wuji's charred corpse still gave off faint wisps of smoke, and Li Zizai's remains had already been covered with an outer robe by his companions. Ten people had set out together; two of them would never make it back.

Of the eight who remained, all bore wounds of varying severity. The worst off was Wangquan Zui — though her body had been reattached, she'd suffered severe internal damage and could barely stand on her own.

Gusttave's gaze swept over each of these young faces in turn, finally settling on Wangquan Baye.

Wangquan Baye's tears hadn't even dried yet. The moment his eyes met Gusttave's, it was like getting struck by lightning — his spine snapped straight on reflex. His lips moved a few times, wanting to say something — thanks, an admission of fault, a plea for punishment — but every word jammed in his throat, and not a single one made it out.

[Author's Note: Mid-Autumn Festival reading! Top up 100 and get 500 VIP coupons free! Grab it now (event period: September 25 to September 27).]