Chapter 122: Upheaval

Xiao Feng suddenly ceased his singing. His body hung suspended in the air for a fleeting moment, motionless, as fragments of bluebell petals enveloped his slender frame—a floral burial so beautiful it was suffocating.

Yet, no one found it beautiful. It felt heartless, even cruel.

Macarius sat slumped on the ground, tears of grief carving deep, jagged tracks down his face.

Shi Can shuddered and bowed toward the rain of flowers. A series of flashes flickered within his enormous right eye, though no one could say what they portended.

The man in white sighed and shook his head, seemingly lamenting the worthlessness of Xiao Feng’s death. He caught a petal in his hand, pressed it gently to his chest in a gesture of respect, and turned to face the black mandara nearby, its petals still tightly furled.

Luo Hanyai felt his senses returning. He stared blankly at the falling petals, frozen. Suddenly, as if struck by a trance, he trembled and backhanded himself hard across the face.

"Smack!" Whether due to the lack of control over his newly awakened body or the crushing weight of his own guilt, the blow was fierce, leaving five distinct, crimson finger marks on his cheek.

Xiao Feng had no chance to witness any of this. His body turned crystalline at a visible rate, dissolving into countless fine, blue particles. A faint, flickering glow slowly coalesced into the phantom shape of a bluebell. The azure flower bloomed brilliantly in the void, swaying gently as if caught in a breeze, though the familiar, ethereal melody was gone. Only a low, mournful wail echoed from somewhere unknown, as if the world itself were weeping for him.

The bluebell drifted delicately toward Luo Hanyai. The spirits of the wind guarded the fragile bloom with care, terrified that the slightest mishap might cause it to vanish into nothingness.

It came to a slow halt before him, every vein in its petals stretching out. After a moment of hesitation, Luo Hanyai reached out and brushed the dreamlike flower with his fingertip.

The petals trembled slightly. All the azure radiance seemed to reach the end of its life, like an old man in his twilight years—no longer brilliant, but fading into a dim, twilight gloom. The bluebell grew increasingly ethereal until it dissolved into oblivion.

Everything concerning Xiao Feng vanished along with the flower, leaving not a single trace behind. Just as his name implied, the wind came from the endless void and departed in silence, leaving nothing in its wake.

"Sigh, why didn't you die?" the man in white suddenly asked, sounding genuinely regretful.

Luo Hanyai looked at him in confusion, noticing only then that the man had retrieved the white lantern that had been hanging on the wall and was walking toward the black mandara.

"Indeed, why would I die so easily?" The eerie black mandara slowly blossomed, as mysterious and inscrutable as ever. But upon closer inspection, one could see that the inner walls of the petals were densely covered in cracks. Man Luo staggered out from within the bloom, his face deathly pale, clearly having suffered grave injuries.

"Even if you aren't dead, you’re not far from it."

"I’m afraid that will disappoint you. No matter how weak I am, I am more than capable of finishing the likes of you." Man Luo stared at the man in white, his stance unyielding and his tone resolute.

"Oh? I hope your body is as tough as your mouth." The man in white blurred into a phantom, meeting Man Luo’s palm strike head-on.

"Cough, cough, cough..." Man Luo’s expression shifted, and he began to cough violently, just as Xiao Feng had moments before.

"It seems your injuries are more severe than I imagined." The man in white watched as Man Luo coughed up chunks of black-stained ice, appearing to breathe a sigh of relief.

"To think that an unpredictable variable almost ruined all my plans." Man Luo ignored the man's assessment, a confident smile still lingering on his pale, paper-thin face. "But those within my plans will not be affected by this."

"Oh? Are you saying I was part of your plan, too?" The voice of the man in white turned chillingly dark.

"Not just you. Everyone, except for that old man and the child." Man Luo shook his head, looking at the man in white with a touch of disdain. "I am going to attack now. Are you ready?"

"I should like to see exactly what you are worth." The man in white gave a light shake to the lantern in his hand, standing his ground with confidence as he awaited the assault.

"Such laughable arrogance." In a split second, Man Luo appeared before him. Streams of deathly energy surged from the white lantern like grayish-white dragons, rushing straight toward him.

Unexpectedly, Man Luo did not dodge. A strange smile played on his lips, as if the deathly energy meant nothing to him.

The man in white watched in bewilderment, unable to fathom such behavior. He knew the power of his lantern well; he was certain that even he would find such deathly energy troublesome to contend with, let alone Man Luo.

Suddenly, a small blade appeared in Man Luo’s hand. Ignoring the lethal energy coiling toward him, he thrust it directly toward the man in white’s heart—a move that seemed intended to ensure mutual destruction!

"Defend!" At the command of the man in white, a massive surge of deathly energy poured from the lantern, manifesting as a suit of grayish-white armor around his body.

The deathly dragons plunged madly into Man Luo’s body, while at the same time, the blade pierced toward the armor.

The man in white stared, uncomprehending. Why would Man Luo do this? Though he was anchored in place by the need to channel the deathly arts through the lantern, it was clear that this trade would leave Man Luo far worse off. Why add injury to his already critical condition with such a foolish choice? Was there something special about that dagger?

The energy from the lantern intensified, nearing a tangible state.

As the dagger made contact with the armor, the man in white felt a sudden, ominous foreboding—an instinct honed by years of dealing with the dead. Seeing the twisted smile on Man Luo’s face, his heart skipped a beat. Without hesitation, he cast the lantern aside, attempting to evade the strike.

"Thinking of dodging now? Too late!"

The blade pierced the man in white’s body without resistance, as if his armor were nothing more than air.

"You..." Though he avoided a lethal blow to the heart, the blade sliced a deep gash across his abdomen. Blood gushed instantly, and it seemed as though even his intestines were laid bare.