Chapter 121: The Shattering of the Wind Chime

Manro’s expression suddenly changed. The seductive gleam vanished, replaced by a tenderness as gentle as flowing water, while a soft smile touched the corners of his lips.

“Children are prone to throwing tantrums. Most of the time, it’s because they’ve been spoiled. A beating usually sets them straight.”

Little Wind stared coldly at Manro, then addressed the others around the table. “What about you? Which side are you taking?”

Stone Silkworm lowered his head and said nothing, as though he had heard nothing at all. Yet his faintly trembling hands had already betrayed his thoughts. Yes, he was afraid. He feared Little Wind, but he feared Manro even more. Otherwise, he would never have willingly become Manro’s lackey.

Macarius continued sipping the Mist Tea in his hand. He smiled at Little Wind and gave him a slight nod, as if declaring that he stood on Little Wind’s side.

The White-Clad Man shook his head. He said nothing and showed no inclination to take sides. Instead, he gazed at Little Wind and Manro with keen interest, apparently curious to see which of them was stronger and who would emerge victorious. Clearly, he had no intention of stepping forward just yet. He was here to watch the spectacle.

“Have you figured it out?” Manro smiled sweetly. His handsome features took on an alluring charm, like a deadly poison that countless people would willingly swallow. “You can only win the support of that weakest old fool.”

Little Wind barely managed to slide off Luo Hanya. He braced himself against the table to keep from falling, while the deathly intent in his eyes grew ever denser. He slightly raised his trembling lips and said weakly, “So what? Prepare to die!”

“Heh heh. Then just wait and see.”

Manro blinked and waved a finger at Little Wind in disdain.

“But—”

Before Little Wind could respond, Macarius suddenly roared, “Despicable!”

Manro, who had been wagging his finger in place, slowly dispersed. Yet another Manro, his face bright with seductive amusement, appeared behind Little Wind and gently pressed a hand wreathed in black energy against his back.

It turned out that before his words had even ended, Manro had already transformed into a phantom and slipped behind Little Wind. The figure left standing in his original position had merely been an illusion he created.

“Cough, cough, cough!”

Manro retreated several steps and looked smugly at Little Wind, who was coughing without end. As he watched the black blood spill from Little Wind’s mouth, he stood proudly like a victorious champion, as though the outcome had already been decided.

Macarius angrily moved to Little Wind’s side. With a hand covered in wrinkled old skin, he lightly tapped Little Wind’s forehead, then supported him while glaring furiously at Manro.

“He’s still a child! How could you ambush a child who’s already on the verge of death? How can you be so despicable?”

“Hahahaha…”

Manro seemed to have heard the funniest joke in the world. Clutching his stomach and slapping his thigh, he laughed uproariously.

“I truly wonder whether you’re really the Wise Mind you claim to be. You know perfectly well what I am. Calling me despicable is the greatest affirmation and praise you could possibly offer me. Hahaha… You really are laughable—just like some senile old fool.”

“Is that so? The truly laughable one should be you.”

Little Wind slowly opened his eyes. His pupils seemed unfocused, staring blankly at Manro. Then he softly uttered a single word:

“Detonate.”

A trace of pain suddenly appeared on Manro’s handsome face, but vanished in an instant. He waved his hand and once again resumed his dazzling smile.

“What a pity. Did you think I hadn’t noticed when I struck you just now? I’ve already forced out most of the cold energy. How could that little bit remaining possibly harm me? You should worry about the Mandala poison inside your own body first!”

“Then you needn’t trouble yourself over me.”

Macarius fixed Manro with a cold gaze. “You will undoubtedly die today.”

“Hmph? If I remember correctly, you’ve never drawn upon the power in your heart. You’re basically nothing more than an ordinary old man. What gives you the right to say that?”

Manro smiled faintly. Anyone unaware of his true nature might have found the expression as refreshing as a spring breeze. At this moment, however, it only sent an icy chill through the room.

“You’ll understand.”

Macarius’s gaze became incomparably gentle. Threads of golden light flowed from his body, illuminating everything around them and coating it in a mysterious radiance, as though he were a saint or deity from legend.

At last, a trace of wariness appeared on Manro’s face. He looked upon an opponent both utterly unfamiliar and unfathomably mysterious, not daring to relax for even a moment.

“I never imagined that you were the one hiding your strength most deeply.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

The radiance surrounding Macarius grew brighter and brighter, illuminating the entire room. Its gentle glow made the place resemble heaven itself.

Manro examined the room, which had taken on an almost sacred air. He lightly tapped the empty space before him, a hint of confusion appearing on his face, as though something here had puzzled him.

“Stop wasting your effort trying to investigate. None of this is something you can imagine…”

Macarius’s voice became vast and majestic, like a judge pronouncing the final verdict, or God announcing the coming of doomsday.

Manro paid no attention to the meaningless proclamation. Frowning, he repeatedly traced his fingers through the air, outlining a mysterious and sinister black mandala.

“You…”

Manro’s expression changed drastically. In an instant, a black mandala appeared from thin air and enclosed him within a chamber of petals.

“It’s too late. Everything is too late. You were right—where would I have such power? I’m just a wretched old man. All of this was merely a bluff.”

A faint smile appeared on Macarius’s face. Then, as though he had exhausted the last of his strength, he sank to the floor. In the blink of an eye, all the light vanished with him.

Yet Little Wind, who had been shielded behind him, had now become something else entirely.

Blue flowers covered in purple veins, their petals only half-open, surrounded him. Though there was no wind, they swayed on their own, giving off clear, refreshing chimes that stirred memories of childhood in everyone who heard them.

“Ding ding dong, ding ding dong, ding dong…”

The delicate sound of wind chimes echoed through the room, as though recounting a sorrowful tale. It pierced the hearts of all who heard it, urging grief and tears to rise.

Surrounded by countless blue bellflowers, Little Wind now resembled a fairy among the blossoms—frail and lovely, inspiring an irresistible tenderness.

A strange radiance shone from Little Wind’s eyes. His cheeks were flushed, his lips red and his teeth white. No trace remained of his former weakness and sickly pallor. He looked exactly like a mischievous, adorable, healthy child.

“With all my life as the sacrifice—the Ice Curse, Sound of Death.”

Little Wind smiled happily. Accompanied by the sweet, melodious chime of the flowers, he seemed utterly unlike his former self.

Macarius shut his eyes in pain. When he raised his head again, tears streamed down his aged face.

Crack…

A hairline fracture appeared simultaneously across every wind-chime flower. The flowers, which had been swaying without wind, froze for an instant and released their final note.

That crisp sound surpassed every melody in the world. In that single moment, the entire world fell silent, as though everything were listening to the fatal note.

At that moment, Little Wind forgot every pain he had ever endured. Only his carefree, joyful voice remained:

“The wind chimes shatter, the ice grieves. Little Wind departs and never returns—never returns, oh, never returns…”

To be continued.