Chapter 79: I Truly Deserve to Die!
Somewhere within the wilderness of the Barak Kingdom.
The night was as dark as ink, the stars sparse; only a bright, full moon hung high in the sky, casting its clear, silvery light down upon the makeshift encampment below.
Whenever a squad from the Holy Knights Order was out on a mission, they would assign sentries to keep watch through the night, guarding against any potential attacks by the Fallen or wild beasts. Tonight, the watch fell to Qian Renxue and Tian Yue.
Tian Yue sat upon a relatively flat stone, propping her cheek in one hand while idly twirling a slender stick in the other, using it to poke at the glowing embers beside the campfire and eliciting faint crackling sounds.
She stole a glance at the figure seated cross-legged not far away—a silhouette clad in white and gold, eyes gently closed.
Qian Renxue wore a simple white undergarment beneath a light suit of armor; her long golden hair was tied back in a simple knot, with a few stray wisps falling across her forehead.
The moonlight traced the perfect contours of her profile, yet it also served to accentuate her air of coldness and detachment.
Sigh...
Tian Yue sighed inwardly.
Sister Xue... ever since that incident involving Jiang Bai, she hasn’t known a moment of true happiness.
All day long, aside from cultivating and hunting down the Fallen, she simply shuts herself off from the world.
This simply won’t do...
She wanted to strike up a conversation with Qian Renxue—to distract her, if only for a moment—but she feared she might disturb her meditation.
After agonizing over the decision for some time, she ultimately decided against it; instead, she resumed her aimless poking at the fire, tilting her head back to gaze at the solitary moon hanging in the sky.
It’s such a long, drawn-out night... I really wish I had someone to talk to...
...
At that very moment, Qian Renxue was not, as Tian Yue had assumed, engaged in deep meditative cultivation.
Instead, her consciousness had descended into the deepest depths of her own Sea of Spirit.
It was a vast, boundless ocean of gold—its light gentle yet sacred, a testament to the purity of her Angel Martial Soul and her Six-Winged Angel bloodline.
Yet, right at the heart of this golden ocean, there floated an "anomaly"—an alien presence that stood in stark contrast to its surroundings.
It was a swirling orb of purplish-black light, roughly the size of a human head, rotating slowly and ceaselessly.
Its edges were blurred and indistinct, while its interior was a realm of profound, impenetrable darkness—as if it served as a gateway to some unknown, void-like dimension.
It hung there in absolute stillness, radiating an aura that was simultaneously cold and deathly silent—yet, paradoxically, seemed to share a subtle, intrinsic connection with Qian Renxue’s own soul power.
This mass of purplish-black light had suddenly appeared within her Sea of Spirit about six months ago.
Qian Renxue had attempted countless times to probe it, communicate with it, or even dispel it—yet every effort had ended in failure.
It lingered like a silent phantom, entrenched in the deepest recesses of her soul—neither growing nor diminishing, neither departing nor fading away.
The only thing that offered her a modicum of reassurance was that this orb of light displayed neither aggression nor corrosiveness; on the contrary... it felt as though it were an intrinsic part of her own power, merely existing in a form she had yet to comprehend.
What exactly is it...?
Qian Renxue’s consciousness took the form of a tiny golden figure of light, hovering a short distance from the purplish-black orb, observing it in silence.
Her Angel Martial Soul embodied pure light and divinity; yet this purplish-black aura... carried the distinct scent of darkness and death.
But why... do I feel as though it shares the very same roots and origins as I do?
She tentatively extended a slender thread of golden spiritual intent toward the orb.
Just as it had happened countless times before, the instant her intent brushed against the orb’s surface, a sensation—chilling, sorrowful, yet profoundly familiar—surged through her consciousness like an electric current.
In that fleeting trance, she seemed to glimpse a dark, still lake; a solitary white figure bobbing amidst the gloom; several wounds glowing with a purplish-black light... and a pair of pale, tightly sealed lips.
Jiang Bai...
Her heart gave a sudden, sharp pang of pain.
Qian Renxue abruptly withdrew her spiritual intent; the tiny golden figure of light quivered ever so slightly.
She dared not probe any deeper, terrified that the surging tide of memories and anguish would once again overwhelm her.
Unable to find an answer, she could only temporarily suppress this lingering doubt and unease.
Her consciousness withdrew from the Sea of Spirit.
Qian Renxue slowly opened her eyes.
Beneath the moonlight, her violet eyes appeared deep and weary; the profound pain buried within was expertly concealed behind a mask of cold detachment.
She turned her head to look at Tian Yue, who was sitting beside her, gazing up at the moon with an air of utter boredom.
"Tian Yue."
Her cool, clear voice broke the silence of the night.
"Huh? Sister Xue! You’re awake?"
Tian Yue hurriedly tossed aside the wooden stick she was holding, turned around, and forced a smile onto her face. "I was just keeping watch—I’m wide awake!"
Observing her strained attempt to appear energetic, Qian Renxue felt a faint warmth bloom in her heart.
Tian Yue was the granddaughter of the Golden Crocodile Douluo; having grown up alongside Qian Renxue, she possessed a lively and spirited nature—one of the few people in these cold, bleak days capable of bringing her even a glimmer of warmth.
"Go get some rest," Qian Renxue said, rising to her feet. She brushed at some imaginary dust on her armor, a faint smile playing upon her lips.
"I’ll take it from here."
"No, no! There’s no need!"
Tian Yue waved her hands frantically as she, too, stood up.
"I really am not sleepy! You’re the one who needs more rest, Sister Xue; you’ve been leading the charge on the front lines these past few days, expending the most energy..."
Gazing at Qian Renxue’s face—which, though still flawless beneath the moonlight, appeared terribly pale—she couldn’t help but speak up: "Sister Xue, you really ought to smile more often! When you smile... you look absolutely beautiful! In the past, even when your expression was cold, there was still a light shining in your eyes. But now..."
Mid-sentence, Tian Yue abruptly cut herself off, wishing she could slap herself across the face.
She had truly managed to bring up the one topic that should have remained untouched!
Sure enough, upon hearing her words, the light in Qian Renxue’s eyes instantly dimmed, and the corners of her mouth—which had just begun to lift—drooped once more.
She raised her head, fixing her gaze upon the bright, pristine moon above.
"But..." Her voice was barely a whisper, soft as a sigh.
"He is gone now. No matter how beautiful I might be... who is left to see it?"
"..."
Tian Yue parted her lips, but her throat felt as if it were choked by some obstruction; she couldn’t utter a single word. She lowered her head in frustration, wishing desperately that she could turn back time.
I really am a fool!
In a desperate attempt to shatter the suffocating silence and sorrow, Tian Yue hurriedly looked up, pointing toward the sky in an effort to change the subject: "Sis... Sister Xue! Look! The moon tonight... it’s so perfectly round, and so bright! Haha..."
Following the direction of her finger, Qian Renxue’s gaze once again settled upon that solitary moon.
Its clear, cool radiance bathed the earth—and her—in light; yet, to her, it brought only a bone-deep, piercing chill.
"Yes..." she murmured softly, her voice drifting away.
"The moon is still the same moon. But... I can never gaze upon it with him again."
She slowly closed her eyes, as if transported back to that Lantern Festival in Yelin City—a scene of dazzling lights and intertwining figures.
Hand in hand, they had wandered through the bustling crowds, watching fireworks, solving lantern riddles, and sharing a single, sweet pastry...
And then there was that kiss in the corner—awkward yet fervent—bathed in the mingled glow of moonlight and lanterns...
Back then, she had thought it nothing more than an ordinary moment.
Now, looking back, her heart was torn to shreds.
After a long silence, she opened her eyes and gazed at the bright moon—a celestial orb that seemed to have remained unchanged since time immemorial. She recited a verse in a low, haunting tone, her voice laden with boundless desolation and longing:
"The bright moon shone then, just as it does now..."
"Once, it lit the way for the returning clouds..."
As the verses faded, the wilderness fell silent once more; only the night wind could be heard, keening softly.
Tian Yue stood rooted to the spot, gazing at Qian Renxue’s figure bathed in moonlight—a silhouette that appeared utterly solitary. Her eyes welled up with sudden emotion.
She bit down hard on her lip, wishing she could slap herself for her insensitivity.