“These things buzzing around are such a nuisance.”
Swirls of gray, chaotic energy churned through the air, spreading like ink spilled into water.
The black-robed man, his face hidden behind a mask, swung his sword with casual precision, reducing a cluster of hovering metal objects—poised to strike—into ash.
The gust from his strike tugged back his hood, revealing pale, ashen hair streaked with a single black forelock, framing a sickly, pallid face.
Poor Abai, who controlled those metal constructs, could only grimace in despair.
Those gadgets weren’t cheap!
Lyte had already wrecked a batch, and now his own ally was joining in on the destruction?
Abai had hoped to use them to slow Lyte down if he tried to flee, but so much for that plan.
If the black-robed man could hear Abai’s inner complaints, he might have scoffed.
The Chosen Hero wasn’t some ordinary foe—Lyte could slip through anyone’s grasp if he truly wanted to escape.
“Second Captain of Sin’s Domain, codename Shang,” Lyte said coolly, reciting what he knew.
“Spotted a week ago near the goblin encampment by Wagner Town, and now here you are again.”
His grip tightened on the holy sword, its faint hum a constant reminder of the threat before him.
Though it was a low-tier holy sword, its durability rivaled even the mightiest blades, its true power still locked away.
Shang, cloaked and masked, let out a strange, mocking laugh.
“Well, aren’t you thorough? Sounds like you know me better than I know myself.”
Lyte’s eyes become narrowed as suspicion flickers.
The man’s odd demeanor made him wonder if this was some impostor posing as a captain of Sin’s Domain.
Yet the chaotic energy radiating from Shang was no illusion—it clashed with the holy power coursing through Lyte’s sword, the runes pulsing eagerly, urging him to fight.
In his past life, at the height of his power, he might have indulged them.
But now?
Escaping was hard enough, let alone challenging a captain-class anomaly like Shang, whose swordsmanship flowed like a master’s ink painting—beautiful, yet deadly.
“What do you want here?” Lyte asked, his voice steady but probing.
“Looking for someone?” Controlled by a surge of desire, he couldn’t help but test if Shang’s presence was tied back to Noi.
“Oh? You mean that white-haired girl—” Shang caught himself, clamping his mouth shut and pivoting awkwardly.
“Er, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lyte took a deep breath, forcing clarity into his mind.
This was his chance to pry information from Shang.
In his past life, their encounters were all blades and blood, no room for words.
Even their last clash at the goblin camp had ended with Shang slipping away after a brief skirmish.
Only now did Lyte realize the second-in-command of Sin’s Domain was a battle-obsessed fool, not unlike the version of himself before the Witch’s War.
“So, what’s Sin’s Domain plotting in Wagner Town?” Lyte pressed, keeping his tone deliberately naive.
“Can I stop it?”
A simplistic question, but for someone like Shang, it might just work.
“Think what you want,” Shang replied, suddenly cagey.
He’d learned his lesson—his mouth was a sieve, better sealed than leaking secrets.
Lyte smirked, “Heh, typical Sin’s Domain scum. No limits to your schemes, huh? Invading towns, and now kidnapping innocent church nuns?”
A baited taunt, and Shang fell for it.
“Hey, wait! How do you know about that nun—”
He stopped mid-sentence, visibly deflating, as if his captain’s mystique had crumbled into dust.
He didn’t bother refuting Lyte’s jab about Sin’s Domain’s nature.
The organization’s name spoke for itself—its captains knew their actions weren’t righteous.
But for certain people, for certain causes, they had no choice but to seize this planet.
“So, Noi’s already been taken by you ?” Lyte pressed, his chest tight with restless energy.
He exhaled heavily, pushing forward.
“Is someone waiting for me at the finish line? My current… condition—is that your doing too?”
Shang groaned inwardly.
‘Ugh, this is such a pain.’
He itched to draw his sword and settle things with a proper fight, but the Domain Lord had ordered restraint—no chaos in the town, just stick to the plan.
“To be precise,” Shang said, scrambling for a lie, “she joined Sin’s Domain long ago. The Domain Lord developed a technique blending chaotic and light energy, but it cost her memories. Now that the time’s right, we’re here to bring her back.”
Every word was nonsense, spun on the spot.
If not for Nightmare’s request to stall Lyte and keep him from chasing Noi, Shang wouldn’t bother with this charade.
“Oh?” Lyte’s tone sharpened.
“And what’s she to you? If she’s so important, why send an idiot to fetch her?”
‘Idiot? Who’re you calling an idiot?’
Shang bristled, tempted to hack this smug hero to pieces.
Nightmare had reported to the Domain Lord about discovering Tria’s Chosen One, and the order came to test Lyte in Wagner Town, probing for weaknesses.
Nightmare’s ability worked slowly, requiring external stimuli to stir the target’s emotions and hasten its effect.
If they could manipulate a soulless Chosen One, conquering this planet would be within reach.
“She’s… my girlfriend,” Shang said, his voice dripping with rehearsed sincerity.
“I was worried about her, so I volunteered to bring her back.”
The act was flawless, but Lyte felt an odd pang—sour, bitter, and distinctly unpleasant.
He let out a dry laugh, his tone edged with venom.
“Really? Then you must’ve seen how close I’ve been with her these past few days. Not jealous? Not angry? Don’t want to gut me for it? Or are you fine with me stealing her away?”
Shang froze.
‘Love? Jealousy?’
He was a centuries-old anomaly, freshly awakened, barely twenty-nine in human years, with only a handful left to live.
How was he supposed to know how a boyfriend should react?
“Argh, I’m furious!” he bellowed, his performance comically exaggerated.
“How dare you touch my girlfriend!”
Lyte burst into wild, almost manic laughter, the kind that teetered on hysteria.
To Shang, the hero’s aura suddenly felt more like that of a Sin’s Domain captain than his own.
The laughter stopped abruptly, and Lyte’s gaze locked onto Shang, his smile twisted.
“One question. What color are Noi’s eyes?”
Shang blinked.
‘Her eyes? I’ve never even seen her, just know her hair’s white. How am I supposed to answer this?’
Nightmare had given him a full dossier on Noi, but Shang hadn’t bothered reading it.
‘White pairs with… blue, right?’
“Blue,” he declared.
“A pure, white-clad nun like her deserves eyes as clear as the boundless sky.”
Light snorted, “Sorry, they’re the blood-red of a remorseless killer.”
The exchange confirmed it—Shang was spouting half-truths laced with scraps of useful information.
Noi likely had no real connection to Sin’s Domain.
But the amplified desires from Nightmare’s ability still gnawed at Lyte’s mind, relentless and unyielding.
He clutched his forehead, staggering toward the finish line, determined to find Noi.
His holy sword remained unsheathed, ready for any move from Shang.
Seeing his target about to leave, Shang panicked.
“Hey, wait! Let’s chat a bit longer. What’s the rush?”
“Where’s Noi? Still at the finish line?” Lyte ignored him, focused on his own questions.
“I don’t know,” Shang blurted.
“She’s definitely not at Central Park.”
Lyte’s lips curled into a grin.
Coming from anyone else, he’d doubt the words.
But from Shang?
They were as good as the truth.
“Thanks,” he said, and with a mocking smile, he sprinted out of the race area, away from the finish line.
For caution’s sake, he decided to find Xing Chen first.
Together, they’d head to Central Park to track down Noi and deal with Nightmare’s influence.
Meanwhile, Shang clutched his head in despair.
‘Argh, I screwed up again!’
As he considered stopping Lyte by force, his phone pinged with a message from Nightmare:
[Noi’s already halfway gone. Lyte can’t track her. You can pull back.]
‘No, he’s already headed there…’ Shang, shamefaced, sent an honest reply:
[Sorry, Light knows your location. I only left out the part about the abandoned warehouse.]
Nightmare’s response was a string of censored curses:
[??? You *****]
Shang powered off his phone, silently thanking the Star Alliance leader for the profanity filter that spared him his comrade’s wrath.
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