As his consciousness withdrew from the whirlpool of schemes in the simulated world and returned to reality, the first thing Aoki felt was a bone-deep exhaustion and a faint lingering pain in his shoulder, as if the ache from before had not quite faded.
The toll of plotting and emotional expenditure within the simulation was far greater than he had imagined.
He opened his eyes, and what greeted him was a rough, rocky dome overhead. The air was thick with the scent of earth, medicinal herbs, and a faint aroma of roasted mushrooms.
Beneath him was a bedding of dry moss and some kind of unknown animal pelt—surprisingly soft.
He was lying in a simple yet clean stone house.
“Aoki-dono! You’re awake!” Xiaoya’s voice rang out in surprise from nearby.
She was crouched beside a small hearth, poking a few golden-brown mushrooms with a stick.
Though there was still an air of exhaustion from their flight, she looked much better than before, her wounds simply bandaged.
“Where is this…?” Aoki propped himself up, his voice a little hoarse. The qi technique within him began circulating on its own, easing his discomfort.
“This is the Shizu Tribe, a secret gathering place of us halflings, hidden deep within the folds of the mountains. It’s very safe!” Xiaoya quickly handed him a cup of clear water held in a giant leaf. “That lunatic Tsukiki definitely won’t be able to find this place for a while.”
Hearing Xiaoya speak this way made him want to laugh. Before, it had always been “Hero-dono, Hero-dono,” but now it was “lunatic.”
But it was only natural—anyone who had been hunted like this would come to hate their pursuer.
Aoki took the water and drank a few sips, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.
He looked around. Though the stone house was simple, it had everything needed for daily life. Woven items and hunting tools hung on the walls, filling the place with the scent of living.
For now, they were safe.
He composed himself and asked the question weighing most heavily on his mind: “Xiaoya, when we escaped, you mentioned Nongli… What happened to her afterwards? Did Tsukiki…”
Xiaoya was about to hand him a roasted mushroom when her motion froze, and pure confusion appeared on her face. “Nongli? Aoki-dono, who’s that? Is she someone else who needs help? When we escaped, only Tsukiki was chasing us.”
Aoki’s hand holding the leaf froze in midair.
Nongli… was gone.
Not forgotten, but—like Lin Qiyou—completely erased from the “records” of this real world.
Yet, rather than a bitter sense of loss, what he felt was a bizarre, almost unbearable awkwardness.
Still, without Nongli, Xiaoya was by his side. That confirmed one thing: the result would not change, and the world could self-correct after changes in the simulation.
“It’s nothing. Maybe I just remembered wrong.” Aoki lowered his gaze and took a bite of food, steering the conversation back to the present. “Tsukiki won’t give up so easily. Although this place is hidden, it’s not entirely foolproof. We need to figure out a way to settle this problem once and for all.”
Seeing that Aoki no longer pursued the topic, Xiaoya let out a sigh of relief. She took a bite of roasted mushroom and said vaguely, “I think… we could notify the Church! Tsukiki-dono—no, now that Tsukiki has returned, if the Church knows, they’ll definitely send people to bring her back and take charge again! After all, she’s still officially the Saintess… or Hero?”
For a moment, even Xiaoya was uncertain whether Tsukiki was a Hero or a Saintess.
The proposal sounded reasonable—using the Church’s power to keep Tsukiki in check.
But Aoki slowly shook his head, his gaze deep. “Not enough.”
“Not enough?” Xiaoya was puzzled.
“Not enough reason.” Aoki analyzed coolly. “In her current state, the chaotic Church may not be able to control Tsukiki at all. If we notify them rashly, it may not solve our problem—it might only alert our enemies, or even bring more upon us. What we need now is absolute safety and a chance to breathe, not to be swept up into a bigger storm.”
Seeing Xiaoya’s half-comprehending expression, he added, “Tsukiki’s target is clear—it’s me. In her eyes, the threats from Lin Qiyou and Nongli, these ‘visitors from another world,’ have been temporarily dealt with. That means all her attention will focus on me. Before she finds us, we must gain enough strength to protect ourselves—or strike back.”
“Lin Qiyou? Nongli? Who are they?”
As Xiaoya looked at Aoki’s calm, undisturbed face, an inexplicable chill crept into her heart. Aoki-dono had just escaped death, surrounded by danger—so why was he so composed? As if everything was still under his control?
This unnatural calm made her uneasy, yet oddly, it inspired trust.
“So… what should we do?” Xiaoya swallowed the mushroom in her mouth and asked softly.
“Wait,” Aoki answered with just one word.
“Wait? Wait for what?”
Aoki didn’t reply. He simply lay down again, closed his eyes, as if gathering his strength, or perhaps waiting for something.
Xiaoya watched him, filled with doubts, but dared not press further. She could only gnaw silently on her mushroom, praying for good fortune.
*****
The night passed quietly.
At dawn the next day, the sky was barely light, and the Shizu Tribe was still wrapped in peace. Suddenly, a shrill, urgent blast of horns split the silence of the valley!
“Wooo—wooooo—!”
The horn blared, sharper and more frantic with each note, laced with panic.
Immediately after, the tribe filled with the noise of hurried footsteps, shouts, and the clash of weapons.
“What’s happening?!” Xiaoya leapt up from her bedding and rushed to the stone house door, nervously peering outside.
Aoki opened his eyes as well, a flash of anticipated light in his gaze. He sat up slowly, listening intently to the chaos outside.
An elderly halfling warrior, gasping for breath and pale-faced, ran past their stone house, shouting to the gathering clansfolk:
“It’s bad! The Demon King’s Army! The Demon King’s Army has broken through the northern defenses—they’re invading in force!”
“The Black Tide! It’s the Black Tide! It’s bigger than ever!”
“The alliance front has collapsed! Several towns have already fallen!”
“Quick! Prepare to evacuate! Move deeper into the mountains!”
Panic spread through the small tribe like a plague.
The screams of frightened women and children, the hoarse commands of warriors—it was utter chaos.
Xiaoya stood frozen at the door, her face as white as paper, body trembling. “The… the Demon King’s Army? Now? How could it…”
She spun around, staring at Aoki, who still sat on the pelt with an eerie, almost unnatural calm. A shocking thought struck her like lightning.
“Aoki-dono… you… you knew all along?” Her voice trembled with disbelief.
Aoki neither admitted nor denied it. He rose, walked to the doorway, and gazed toward the northern sky. Even in this deep valley, he could feel the distant, overwhelming aura of destruction and chaos.
The Demon King’s Army had invaded.
This was the “wind” he’d been waiting for.
News spread like wildfire through hidden channels. Soon, more details arrived: the main force of the Demon King’s Army hadn’t directly threatened the mountains, but had thrust straight toward several vital kingdoms and hub cities in the continent’s heartland. Yet the Black Tide was larger than ever; the continental alliance was caught off guard. The massacre at Rose Capital had thrown the kingdom into chaos—some even said it was the work of the Demon King’s Army.
The front had collapsed at first touch, plunging the entire continent into panic.
Chaos was the best shield for the weak, but also the trouble that the strong had to confront.
Aoki understood: Tsukiki, as the former “Hero,” had inherited both that power and that responsibility—she could not ignore this catastrophe sweeping the continent. With the world’s order on the verge of collapse, just how much strength could this “cleaner” spare to hunt for the “virus” lurking in the shadows—him?
As expected, a few days later, through the rare contact between the halfling tribe and the outside, they received news: the long-vanished “Hero” Tsukiki Fuurin had reappeared. Wielding the Holy Sword, she’d appeared at the broken front of the northern alliance army, using overwhelming force to stabilize some lines and calling for all powers to unite against the Demon King’s Army.
“She… she went back?” When Xiaoya heard this, her feelings were complicated. On one hand, she was relieved that the frontlines had a chance for support; on the other, she was glad that Aoki-dono was temporarily safe. Yet deeper still was her tangled, inexpressible view of Tsukiki.
“She had to go back,” Aoki said quietly, as if stating an unalterable fact. “That is her ‘duty.’”
Yet Tsukiki’s temporary departure did not mean the danger was over. The Demon King’s Army surged forth; the continent teetered on the brink. Who could say how long Tsukiki could hold out, or if she’d still have the spare strength to search for him while battling the Demon King’s Army?
He needed more—needed a power that could truly stand against Tsukiki.
Aoki looked at Xiaoya, his eyes resolute. “I need to rest again. No matter what happens, don’t let anyone disturb me.”
Though confused, Xiaoya nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry, Aoki-dono! I’ll keep watch!”
Aoki lay back down on the pelt, closed his eyes, and let his consciousness once again sink into the simulated interface that bridged past and present.
This time, his goal was clear—find Nongli, and bring her back!
*****
Demon Palace.
When Aoki’s consciousness awoke once more in that young body, he was lying on a bed in a wooden house in the valley. Outside, the sky was still dark—the blackest hour before dawn. Without alarming anyone, guided by his familiarity with Nongli’s aura and the subtle pull of the Soul Qi Technique, he slipped past all watchful eyes like a wraith, infiltrated Benji City again, and arrived outside Nongli’s private chambers.
The guards around her palace had increased, the barriers more tightly woven—clearly a response to recent spying and the swirling rumors. But Aoki knew this place far too well. He found a subtle gap in the formation’s workings and slipped through like a fish.
Nongli was not asleep. She sat by the window, staring into the endless darkness outside, red eyes filled with exhaustion and frustration that would not fade. The pressure within the Demon King’s court, and the venomous rumors about an “illegitimate child,” had worn her out.
“Master?” Sensing the familiar aura drawing near, Nongli turned sharply. When she saw Aoki step from the shadows, a hint of joy flashed in her eyes.
Aoki approached her, looking up at the face that, even in darkness, was still bright and beautiful, though laced with fatigue. This time, he didn’t circle around with words—instead, he spoke bluntly, his tone more serious than ever before:
“Nongli, stop being the Demon King.”
Nongli was stunned, her red eyes blinking as if she couldn’t grasp his meaning: “Master?”
“Come with me.” Aoki’s voice was soft, but it carried a strange magic. He reached out and gently held Nongli’s fingers, which had curled up in surprise. “Let’s leave this place. Leave all this strife and intrigue. Just like… just like when it was only you and me, back in the alchemy room at the very beginning.”
He looked into her eyes, which clearly reflected her shocked face. Then, in a slow and clear tone, with a hint of persuasion perhaps never before present in his life, he spoke word by word.
Like a sudden thunderclap, his words exploded in Nongli’s mind.
Her great body trembled, red pupils shrinking in disbelief as she looked at the small figure before her—her master, whose eyes were as deep as the starry sea. Love… for her? Not the love between master and disciple, but… that between a man and a woman?
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.