Book 12 Chapter 1

Spark of Jealousy

"Liu Ye'er!"

Baek Moo-young, one of the twin sons of Koo Jeong-hyeon and one of the most anticipated members of the Hyeongsan School, said.

I swear I heard Na Yerin's screams of agony.

The voice was crystal clear and beautiful, like crystalline raindrops falling on a silvered mirror, playing notes. It was also deep as an abyssal lake and high as a marten's coat, and it held a magic that mesmerized the listener. But now the voice was filled with urgency and surprise, fear and anxiety.

The voice had once been frozen as cold as the northern winds that blew from the icy lands of the north. Never before had it carried the remnants of emotion in its chill winds. Now it had melted like a stream receiving its first rays of sunshine and trembled so precariously! Had that cold voice ever resonated so high with so many different emotions?

As far as he could recall, it never happened. It probably doesn't even show up in the Association's relentlessly intimate surveillance records (which the Walled City across the Silk Road calls "stalking records" and the professionals who do it professionally are called "stalkers").

And even he, who prided himself on having had his fair share of women in his life, couldn't argue with the fact that it was the clearest, most beautiful, mysterious, and mesmerizing voice he'd ever heard.

At that moment, Baek Moo-young's eyes caught a strange glimpse of his friend Wei Zichen (who hadn't yet crossed over, though he wished he had).

He was bent at the waist, staring blankly at his hands. He looked like a suicidal man, despairing of life and ready to take his own life. At this dangerous moment, when hundreds of arrows were falling incessantly like rain in the rainy season, and the spinning blades were falling wildly on the chains, it was an act of insanity, of giving up the right to live.

Bai Muyoung found his old best friend's behavior strange, but with the threats to his life coming from all directions and the constant attacks, he no longer had time to pay attention to him. Even at this moment, dozens of arrows were shooting for his life. If he were to be killed by one of those sharpened metal branches, he would not be able to face the inquisitors.

Unable to commit a cardinal sin, he turned his attention back to the attack that threatened him and began to deal with it decisively, his sword slicing through the wind and spraying cold sword energy.

"Hmph……."

Wei Zichen was staring at his empty hands with bloodshot eyes. It was obviously a clean empty hand, but because of his bloodshot eyes, it looked as if it was stained with blood. It was obviously an extension of his arm that was attached to his body, but right now, it seemed as distant to him as the bottom of the Heavenly Road Cliff.

When had she ever shouted so impatiently, so urgently, so out of control, that she could barely hold a normal conversation?

Yu Zichen was blinded by a jealousy that burned like a black flame.

"Crackle! Crackle!"

Throwing off the bonds of reason and surrendering himself to the torrent of emotion, his present state was not unlike that of a madman. There was no reason in him now to seek right; he was completely unguarded.

Puck! Puck! Puck!

The eyeless arrow missed its distant target, grazing his side and slamming into the floor. But he still didn't stir. Was he going to die like this?

A viper slithered across the dirt toward his heel and flashed its venomous bite. It was a stranger, not one of the people who nested in this canyon, but one who had come from other lands and fed on other things.

Its venom was ten times that of a normal viper. Moreover, its venom was like an evil sword wielded at the command of something. For the snake that had escaped the pack, the target could have been any, but it chose this dazed man because he was close by and, judging by his limp form, would offer little resistance and could be easily subdued. It was a wise decision.

The black-scaled viper lunged with ferocity, a pair of white fangs gleaming. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it flew.

Eek!

In a flash of light, the viper's head and body were sliced in half with a thin line of blood, just one step ahead of Wei Zichen's feet. Black blood oozed out of the severed section of the viper, staining Wei Zichen's clothes with red stains.

It was the three swordsmen who saved him with their swords in a moment of crisis. Together with Bai Muyoung, they were once known as the Three Heavenly Dragons. Even now, their names have not faded, but their friendship has already faded into obscurity, and now only the remnants of the past remain with a sense of loneliness.

"Hmph, hmph, hmph! Kikikikikik!"

Even though his life had been saved, Wei Zichen didn't say thank you. Instead, he was letting a mixture of self-pity and mockery slip from his lips like a real man.

The darkness around him seemed to envelope him, and now he couldn't even see his old friend.

'Am I going crazy with nerves?'

Qing Shui frowned slightly. He was familiar with the occasional psychotic outburst from a novice in his first battle. It was the result of hyper-sensitized nerves being torn apart by the harsh shock of blood, pain, and death.

But Qing Shui quickly denied his suspicions; as far as he could tell, Wei Zichen wasn't that weak-minded. After pondering for a moment, Qing Shui suddenly realized that Wei Zichen's bull was still.

The moment he locked eyes with Wei Zichen, who silently raised his head, Qing Shui felt his heart sink in shock. His two pupils were filled with futility and despair, like the eyes of a dead man, with not a shadow of hope in them.

"Cough cough. Wasted effort, my friend. I wish I'd just let him die……. It would have been so much, much better……. Then I wouldn't have had to feel this pain like tens of thousands of pegs in my heart, and now I can't even die at will, because now I don't want to die! Instead……."

Muttering in an eerily cold and cynical voice, as if he was in despair, Wei Zichen once again glanced at his hands. For a moment, he felt unbearably annoyed by his reddened hands, and he wished that his reddened hands were stained with the blood of that bastard Bi Ryuyeon.

A maddening thirst burned in his mouth, and he wished he could slice open the bastard's chest and drain the lifeblood from his heart to quench it. He would sell his soul to the devil if he could quench it.

Uncontrollable jealousy and guilt met and swirled ferociously in his mind. In this ferocious maelstrom, the guilt shattered without a trace, and an unbearable hatred filled the void.

An unbearable whirlwind of madness engulfed his mind and body. It tore his weakened mind and reason to shreds. But no one noticed this change in him. Not even Bai Muyoung, who was struggling against a hail of arrows from afar, nor even Qing Shui, who watched him from right beside him, noticed that his mind was slowly being consumed by demonic forces.

In Wei Zichen's mind, a thin line that had been struggling to be maintained until now suddenly snapped.