Chương 241: Legend of the Masked Children (XI)

It hurt. Oh my God, did it ever hurt. In the process of trying to save as many people as possible, I've incurred about seventy-seven gashes and twice as many nicks, and all so even through the protection of the Lao and Tao. Or, how I started thinking of them as 'Lt. Ao'. They'd probably kill me if I voiced it, so I never did. Regardless, I had saved just about eighty or so people altogether, gathering them all and shoving them into the basement, telling them to stay inside until someone comes for them.

It was barely a drop in the bucket, though--screams and cries were like a thunderstorm, and I could only ever catch a glimpse of one or two bolts. At some point, a strange thing happened: Rayce showed up out of nowhere, carrying a pair of kids with invisible arms just above his head, and ushering them into the basement too. Honestly, I... I keep forgetting about this kid. In part, it was because he'd barely spoken, especially after we'd crossed the mountain, but there was something more to it.

Sort of like he was 'naturally invisible' or something, or at least had a very muted presence. Even now, he didn't really speak and instead just joined me in seeking more hurt and helping them. All else aside, the kid worked hard and got hurt even worse than me in the process.

"Are you alright?" I asked yet again, offering him a pill. He merely nodded, took the pill, popped it in his mouth, and stood back up like a robot.

"Where did he come from?" Lao Shun asked.

"He was always with us," I said.

"... are you sure?" Honestly? No.

"Yes. You are just a bit blind."

"Huh. Anyway, rest, kid," the old alchemist said.

"It's all wrapped up."

"Is it?" we both asked at the same time, just as Long Tao emerged from the nearby rubble. I mean, he'd always been around; I felt it, though I did lose sight of him at some point, so where exactly he was... that was an enigma.

"Yes," Lao nodded.

"The guy who shouted at us retreated. Lady must have driven him back. The few who survived on the side of the attackers have started their retreat, though... well, they won't get out." Huh. So, really... what the fuck was even the point? No, seriously, what the fuck was the point of any of this?! He came, he chatted, he caused thousands of people to die, and... what? This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

I've already known they were at least nuts if not outright evil, but this... I can't, for the life of me, rationalize this. Unless the goal was literally for everyone to die for some reason-- --could that be it? Are they so desperate for Life Qi that they not only resort to using parasitic vines to suck it from the people, but they are also willing to toss away over a thousand of supposedly their own followers? Nah. It can't be that. There's no way in hell it's that. I refuse to believe it. So... I won't.

It was then that I saw figures emerge from the distant dust, hurried and panicked looks in their masked eyes; as soon as they saw me, they sped through the distance (which was like a good 400 yards, at least) in the blink of an eye, and they were upon me. Like, literally. Light just straight-up tossed herself into my chest, Dai Xiu took my left, Xi Zhao took my right, and Wan Lan was comically standing above me with her arms stretched out in a desperate attempt to stop them.

"Hoii!!" I yelped out as they kicked the air out of me.

"What's wrong? Are you guys hurt?"

"Are you hurt, Master? Oh! You are! Get up, everyone get up!" Dai Xiu cried out.

"Master is hurt! Quick, quick, give him pills!"

"I already took--" So, yeah, that's how I ended up having the three try and shove a bucket of pills into my mouth while Wan Lan, Long Tao, Lao, and even Rayce laughed. Don't laugh, you beasts! Help! Freakin' help me! ** Whispers abound, growing louder and louder with each passing moment of the city being attacked; they began from the Colosseum, as the people noted a set of strange, masked children hurrying about and annihilating everyone in their way.

While most other kids either struggled or outright got hurt or killed, these four were like a reaping storm searing through the city streets. They could not be stopped, even when figures seemingly much stronger than them stood before them. Four battles, in particular, exploded like wildfire, conversations about them seemingly never ending. The most amazing of them, however, had to do with a kid that was no taller than a fruit stall and would still wobble slightly as she walked.

Regardless, it was as though invisible spirits followed her, imploding everyone she passed by and turning them into a shower of blood and viscera. So much so, in fact, that the hooded figures began avoiding her as though she were a harbinger of plague. In their wake remained only shattered and maligned corpses, they themselves towering reapers.

Fan Liuxian was just about to join the escapees when she glanced out the demolished side of the building that was once an inn; from there, she looked upon a young woman with wild, black hair fanning out as she surged among the dozen or so hooded figures, using her body alone to endure them and overcome them. Fan Liuxian's fingers moved on their own as she took out her painting tools, dipped her brush into the colors, and began sweeping across the patterned canvas.

Each stroke was swift and deliberate, as though guided by a spirit residing within her and not of her own will. Her eyes darted and followed the fox-masked figure the best she could when she saw another... and then another... and then another. They were all children, tiny seedlings caught up in the inferno of death, and yet they were enduring. No, not enduring--they were thriving, using flames as the winds in their sails.

She ripped her canvas apart and started anew, ink surging across the rough surface more quickly than it ever did before. The hell, shorn of hope and light, was slowly beaten back, the enshadowed figures all annihilated. She had to capture it--the essence of it. The riling, roaring embers that were just beginning to burn and glow. Sparks, which she knew would become world-devouring flames.

Among the ashes and rubble, cast in the glint of the midday sun, cloaked in identical masks, there stood the opening paragraphs of a story that would be known by the Heavens themselves at some point. As though per will divine, just as she drew the last stroke, all four turned toward her and met her gaze--whether by design or accident, she did not know. It was a fading glimpse into the eyes of the eternal abyss, and she was the one to bear it; all her life, all the struggles she endured...

she felt it all led to this ordained moment of fate, for her to be here and now, to not merely bear witness to a heaven-defying act, but to put it on canvas and immortalize it. The figures disappeared a mere moment later, like ashes in the wind, as the fire within her burned out and she found darkness taking over her world. Unknowingly, she'd expended every last bit of her Qi reserves just to barely engrave faint outlines of their figures on the canvas. Terrifying, she thought. Utterly terrifying...