I Build a Shelter in the Eternal Night

The blade slid through soft tissue, precisely reaching the deepest point, and gave a slight twist.

The burly man’s body gave a single, almost imperceptible twitch. He died without so much as a whimper.

He repeated the process.

The second, then the third.

His movements were repeated with mechanical precision.

Soon.

The sixth man in the room died at his hand. There were no incidents. From start to finish, all six died in their sleep. He was so fast that they never even woke from their dreams at the moment of death.

Everyone has to die.

No one can live forever.

Therefore, choosing a suitable death was a mandatory lesson for everyone.

And being killed silently in one’s sleep was a relatively pleasant way to go.

At least, it was far more comfortable than drowning or being torn to shreds by a Ghost Object.

"..."

Shao Qiu gently wiped the blood from his dagger on the last target’s coarse linen clothes. He stood still, listening intently. There was no movement outside. ’It seems no one is watching the Life Tokens tonight.’

’Otherwise, the shattering of six Life Tokens would have alerted the entire organization.’

He slowly backed out of the room, leaving the door just as he had found it.

He continued toward the other houses.

All detection measures were useless against him; not a single alarm sounded. He was like a silent specter, mechanically reaping lives after nightfall.

...

The Eternal Night receded on schedule, like the tide.

The first pale rays of dawn shone down.

Shao Qiu stood at the water’s edge, his white robes stained with specks of blood. He toyed with the dagger in his hand, a smile spreading across his face as he watched the sun slowly rise over the distant horizon.

The scent of blood mingled with the salty sea air, creating an alluring, faintly sweet aroma.

One man.

One night.

Single-handedly, he had erased the Wind and Rain Tower.

’The greatest Assassin Organization?’

’It was a far cry from his old Godslaying Hall.’

’How should I show off this little trip to the Domain Lord when I get back? He’ll have to praise me for this.’

A day passed in a flash.

Soon, the sky began to darken once more.

A few lone boats drifted in from the sea. As planned, members of his Dark Pavilion had arrived to rendezvous with him. They would spend the night here taking stock of their gains, then pack everything up the next day to take back to the Mortal Realm.

They would take everything they could carry.

Shao Qiu had once again left his familiar marks on the island: the sigil of the Dark Pavilion and a Dark Pavilion Pursuit Order.

A pity.

There was no telling when someone would discover this place. It would likely be a long, long time from now.

The island was exceptionally well-hidden, after all.

...

「Mortal Realm.」

The night was deep.

The auction was tomorrow. Lame Monkey and the others were busy in the camp, making final preparations.

Meanwhile, in an inn in Mortal City.

The Patriarch of the Sheep Race, an old man with graying temples, had personally arrived with the trade caravan. He sat in the inn room, his face impassive as he gazed at the aggrieved Gongyang Yue. After a long silence, he finally turned his head toward Gongyang Yiyue and spoke, his voice hoarse.

"My wife died young. I was afraid she would suffer the same fate, so I’ve always kept her at home. She has a rather simple disposition."

"She doesn’t know any better. But you should, shouldn’t you?"

"Do you have any idea what it means to barge into another faction’s territory during the Eternal Night?"

"Especially when you’re a Night Watcher."

"You, of all people, should know this, shouldn’t you?"

"..."

Gongyang Yiyue lowered his head and sighed softly. ’He wanted to say that even though he looked like a middle-aged man, a Supreme Elder of the Sheep Race who appeared to hold a high and powerful position...’

’...he was a Night Watcher.’

’Having been activated once, he had, in truth, only been alive for nine years.’

’To put it bluntly...’

’...he was basically a nine-year-old boy. But no one treated him like a child, so he couldn’t act like one. He could only learn, slowly, how to handle emergencies like an adult.’

"Father."

Gongyang Yue crept cautiously toward Patriarch Gongyang. "This has nothing to do with the Elder. It was my fault. I insisted. I already apologized to Domain Lord Chen, and he said he didn’t mind."

"Doesn’t mind?"

Patriarch Gongyang’s expression was grim. "That’s only because Domain Lord Chen is giving face to Qi Yue! Otherwise, you barge into another power’s territory at night with a Night Watcher and without any warning—how is that any different from a declaration of war?"

"To put it bluntly,"

"if Domain Lord Chen had decided to act, you would have dragged the entire Sheep Race to the brink of annihilation! When you leave home, you represent the Sheep Race. Your every word and deed reflects on me. You can’t just think of yourself."

"And you think a simple apology makes everything all right?"

"Father..."

Tears welled in Gongyang Yue’s eyes. Her father had never spoken to her in this tone before.

"Never mind."

Patriarch Gongyang was about to say more, but he couldn’t bear to see his daughter’s expression. He let out a soft sigh, then turned to Gongyang Yiyue. After a long pause, he spoke quietly.

"I don’t have many years left."

"The intended heir to the Sheep Race was originally Qi Yue."

"But now Qi Yue has joined the Mortal Realm. If we were to find a husband for Gongyang Yue instead... first of all, who knows if she’d even be willing? And with her personality, she would never be able to control him. The entire Sheep Race would become a pawn in someone else’s game."

"Many people would die."

"So—"

"my main purpose in coming here was not the auction. It’s to see if we can merge the Sheep Race into the Mortal Realm. That way, Qi Yue can still be the heir."

"Qi Yue has already broken through to the Martial King realm."

"Her status in the Mortal Realm is not low."

"It’s enough to protect the Sheep Race."

"But..." Gongyang Yiyue struggled to accept this. He stood up, dazed. "Patriarch, if we do that... the Sheep Race’s lineage will be broken. With our Hidden City, our clan can live on safely."

"..."

The obviously old man walked wearily to the window. "The Sheep Race has no successor," he said, his voice raspy. "It doesn’t matter how hidden our city is. It’s useless. How many powers have crumbled from within?"

"Anyone else who takes over will fail to win the people’s support. An internal struggle for power is inevitable."

"Merging with the Mortal Realm and letting Qi Yue succeed me is the best option. No one will dare to question her."

"What is the true purpose of a clan?"

"It is for everyone to come together, Huddling for Warmth, so that we can survive the Eternal Night."

"I believe,"

"that one day, the Eternal Night will recede. It has faded once before, so it will surely fade again. It’s just a shame I won’t live to see it. I hope the descendants of the Sheep Race will."

"Get some rest."

"I’m a little tired."

In truth, there was one thing he hadn’t said.

’From a purely dynastic perspective, marrying his daughter to just anyone wasn’t the best choice. Marrying her to Chen Fan was.’

He didn’t dare to imagine it.

’What a glorious prospect that would be.’

’Although Chen Fan is still young and doesn’t need to worry about heirs yet, a power must have a designated successor to ensure stable growth. Otherwise, if Chen Fan were to die unexpectedly...’

’...the entire faction would instantly become leaderless.’

’The Mortal Realm would shatter.’

’If Chen Fan left behind his Essence before his death, that would be one thing. Someone could use it to inherit his structures. But if he died suddenly without leaving any Essence behind, all these buildings would crumble to ruin, and the various Pavilion Masters of the Mortal Realm would have to go their separate ways.’

But he knew this was unrealistic.

So he didn’t voice these thoughts.

It would be pointless.

...

「Mortal Realm Camp.」

Chen Fan watched as Zhao Shengping carefully used a pair of tongs to hold up a very unremarkable-looking clod of earth, caked in thick, yellow mud. Then, he picked up a hammer.

As the mud was cracked open,

an indescribable aroma instantly billowed out, dispelling the winter chill and bringing a thread of warmth to the camp.

The moment the outer shell flaked away,

steam billowed up.

An aroma blending the crisp bitterness of lotus leaf, the earthy fragrance of baked clay, and the scent of some unknown fruitwood instantly filled the air. It revealed a whole chicken within, roasted to a glistening, juicy, amber-colored perfection.

The skin of the chicken was taut.

There wasn’t a single charred spot.

It was as perfect as a work of art.

If a perfect score was ten, this beggar’s chicken deserved a seven for its appearance alone.