Chapter 24: The Azure Lamp Flame

Exotic beasts possessed a natural affinity for elements, their instincts opening wide the gates to these creatures. Yet even wind-type exotic beasts, born as vassals of the Candle Dragon, could never truly master flames.

Thus, when the fire elements in the arena surged into turmoil once more, Ning Wan’s face tightened with vigilance. What ultimate technique was this He Ju about to unleash?

Pale azure flames flickered upward, casting the dim glow of a dying lamp that set everyone on edge. The world around them seemed shrouded in layers of sickly cyan, like the pallid faces of the dead where blood had long ceased to flow, sending chills racing down spines.

Aether keenly detected something anomalous. A video feed flashed across Ning Wan’s desktop as the AI cat delivered its report with mechanical precision:

“Unknown instinct detected. Preliminary analysis indicates high similarity to the Azure Flame released by teammate Ye Jingqiu in the Mirror Domain. Requesting archival classification for unified management.”

Stunned, Ning Wan nearly leaped from her swivel chair. She had borrowed every available hand to scour hundreds of tattered sheepskin scrolls and ancient tomes, even petitioning the director for elevated access privileges—yet amid that mountain of fragmented lore, she’d found not a single clue.

She had resigned herself to letting the mystery slip away like wind through fingers, content to chase leads as fate allowed. Little did she expect that half a month later, a trace would emerge from this He Ju.

The pale azure glow emanating from the He Ju Commander matched Xiao Qiu’s flame from her confrontation with the Candle Dragon that day—perfectly. What devastating instinct was this, potent enough to compel the beast to unleash it in a moment of life or death?

The battlefield, which had momentarily stabilized, crackled with tension once more. The heavy, humid air thickened to a standstill. Sensing the azure flame’s peril, Xie Pingzhi went on high alert. She fell back a few steps toward the modified car, double-checking that Chen Yuan remained secure inside.

“Captain, should we…?” Xie Pingzhi hesitated in place for several seconds before venturing the question.

Shi Zui shook her head. The situation hadn’t escalated to the point of invoking Shame Grace.

She detected no whiff of danger from that azure flame.

The He Ju Commander raised its right claw, its iron-hard bone gently nudging the flame that had materialized before it.

This human exuded an aura too forbidding to approach. Even at the height of its power four centuries ago, it would have struggled against such might—let alone in its freshly awakened state.

It had abandoned any hope of reclaiming the Dragon Scale or seizing Ye Jingqiu.

Awakening loomed near. Unable to sate that great lord’s hunger for souls, it would offer itself as the ritual’s sacrifice, concluding this interminable vigil with its own life.

Hierarchy among exotic beasts was ironclad, their worship of strength veering into fanaticism. The alpha effect shone brightest here; every S-rank exotic beast commanded swarms of devoted underlings.

The He Ju Commander paid no heed to the corpses of its lesser kin littering the ground. Low growls rumbled from its throat as the lamp-like flames surged brighter.

Ye Jingqiu took an involuntary step forward, her gaze fixed on the fire with growing bewilderment.

She had reviewed the footage from her time in the Mirror Domain and recognized the similarity between this instinct and her own that day.

Yet it felt utterly unfamiliar to her.

Lost in contemplation, Ye Jingqiu barely noticed Shi Zui’s slight frown. In the next instant, the captain reached out decisively, hauling her little teammate back from beyond the safety line.

Too close. Far too dangerous.

Yanked back abruptly, Ye Jingqiu blinked. “?”

The nape of her neck prickled inexplicably.

Heeding the warning, Xiao Qiu retreated obediently to the safe zone. She stole a cautious glance at the captain, then whipped her eyes away the moment Shi Zui began to turn, feigning intense scrutiny of the He Ju.

The flames rose higher, darting erratically through the air. Trace their path, however, and one would see them sketching a bizarre array.

With the He Ju at its precise center.

Shi Zui’s brows knit; the beast’s intentions remained unclear. She tightened her grip on the tactical dual-blade knife and leaned toward Ye Jingqiu. “Can Copy Command replicate this azure flame?”

Success would mean Xiao Qiu mastering a new instinct—an extra ace up her sleeve for future beast encounters.

Ye Jingqiu grasped the implication at once. She focused intently, issuing Copy Commands in rapid succession. But her infallible Word Manifestation yielded nothing.

She let out a frustrated hiss, shoulders slumping. “No dice this time. My skill level’s probably not up to etching something this advanced.”

Shi Zui faltered for a beat, her mind whirling with sudden insight.

Before she could speak, the He Ju Commander sprang into motion.

Its mighty hind legs launched the colossal beast skyward. Shi Zui and Ye Jingqiu instinctively clutched their weapons, eyes locked as it arced into midair—then

swallowed the pale azure flame whole.

Ning Wan: “Hold on…”

Suicide? What kind of suicidal stunt was that?

The He Ju Commander thudded back to earth in an instant, resuming its eerie stillness. Blinding white light erupted across its form, succeeded by coiling mists of pure azure that deepened the hue of its pale mane.

Shi Zui deemed the creature too unnatural to suffer any longer. With the azure flame gone, mercy had run its course.

Riot value crested one final time. A intricate Dao Array materialized along the tactical dual-blade knife. Shi Zui signaled her teammate; Ye Jingqiu nodded in perfect sync.

Pale azure halos bloomed from the He Ju, rippling outward like a lake disturbed, carrying the unmistakable reek of death. The beast’s eyes shuttered, its scarlet irises drowned in crimson.

Lightning-quick, Shi Zui and Ye Jingqiu surged forward. Moonlight glinted coldly off the tactical dual-blade knife, the hunting knife’s deep blood channel flashing—

Both women vaulted into the air, weapons in hand! Twin black flames ignited from nowhere, bracketing the He Ju from either side.

Yinghuo-infused short blades erupted in frenzy. Airborne, Shi Zui and Ye unleashed identical strikes, their synchronized bladework poised to rend the night itself.

Xie Pingzhi watched from afar, not daring to blink. She knew the captain’s prowess all too well—the will ring’s readings had spiked to an astonishing level. This was the full unleashing of Yinghuo; not even a He Ju Beast could escape it.

Yet the He Ju Commander showed no sign of fleeing. In the instant those two blazing quick knives hurtled toward it, it simply opened its eyes once more.

Thus, Shi Zui and Ye Jingqiu’s strike met only empty air.

Ye Jingqiu was dumbfounded. The creature before her had somehow become a mere phantom.

Where had the flesh gone? The bones? The fur? This defied every law of conservation of mass. How was she supposed to solve physics problems when the laws themselves were breaking!

The He Ju Commander’s body had turned fully transparent. From an idealist perspective, the thing before them might even qualify as a soul.

“The day of awakening draws near. Lord’s Dragon Flame shall return to the world,” the He Ju Commander chanted lowly, its final words before death.

It began to disintegrate, its mortal form dissolving into motes of light that gathered into a river, flowing upward toward the vault of the heavens.

“We shall meet again, humans.”

With those parting words, even its remaining head crumbled into light specks and vanished.

The river of light soon faded into the endless starry sky. In the desolate night, only a waning crescent moon lingered. What everyone had braced for as a grueling battle ended abruptly and without warning.

Shi Zui’s gaze, however, pierced far beyond the moment. She sheathed her knives and stood silent for once, uncertain who the true victor of the night had been.

The storm and inferno felt like a dream now. Only the dense carpet of He Ju corpses around them was real, along with the battered modified car in the distance, looking as if it had been through a serious wreck.

Aether’s voice chimed politely: “No dangers detected in the area.”

Faint chatter leaked through her earpiece. Members of the Branch Division had already swarmed Jingtang Building under cover of night; come morning, caution tape would likely cordon off the site.

A few more minutes, and specialists would arrive to handle the exotic beast corpses, restoring everything to perfect normalcy and ensuring no ordinary person glimpsed this secret.

So… this time, it was truly over?

Ye Jingqiu rebound her hunting knife and glanced back. Xie Pingzhi lounged casually against the mangled car door, while Chen Yuan slept soundly in the back seat. In the quiet wilderness, Ye could even hear the woman’s steady breathing.

How to describe this feeling?

For the first time fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with her teammates, Ye Jingqiu wondered.

Suddenly, everything felt utterly real. Shi Zui said nothing, Xie Pingzhi said nothing, yet a profound sense of peace and fulfillment washed over her like a tide.

Ye Jingqiu recalled the Exotic Beast Dream from half a year ago. She realized now that her amnesiac self had always carried a deep unease. Her sister, who had left only a note, was lost somewhere unknown—not to mention those parents whose existence she couldn’t verify.

She had awoken into pure bewilderment and helplessness, the world’s doors slammed shut against her. Back then, the only one she could rely on was Xu Xianyue, who had reached out first. In a way, Ye Jingqiu had been afraid to get close to her other classmates; an amnesiac with no past or future always harbored an inexplicable fear of herself.

That gnawing anxiety from her fragile social ties had never truly faded.

But now, everything was different. She had found belonging, found fellow Awakeners like herself. Someone was helping her uncover those lost memories. And when exotic beasts appeared again, she wouldn’t face them alone.

She had a great captain. Great teammates.

The night breeze brought a wonderfully gentle warmth. Content, Ye Jingqiu patted the dragon scale in her pocket.

Mission accomplished, perfectly.

She pulled out the scale and dangled it before her eyes. Hard as stone, it gleamed with vivid crimson fire. Pinching the strange creature’s shed appendage, she stepped forward and stood before her captain.

“The night’s spoils should go to the captain,” Ye Jingqiu said with a wink. “Otherwise, I’m bound to lose it if I keep it.”

Shi Zui was drawn back by her little teammate’s soft voice. She turned to see Ye Jingqiu’s eyes sparkling faintly in the vast night, a dragon scale resting in her open right palm.

A light breeze stirred, tousling a few unruly strands of Ye Jingqiu’s long hair. For no reason at all, Shi Zui found her little teammate unusually well-behaved tonight.

She accepted the scale in silence. Her cool knuckles brushed Ye Jingqiu’s palm inadvertently, the youthful warmth standing out sharply in the chill midnight air.

Shi Zui’s fingers curled instinctively. Gazing into her little teammate’s smiling eyes, she recalled that Xiao Qiu was still two months shy of adulthood.

Uncle Ying was right; at the base, Xiao Qiu really was just a kid.

Shi Zui pocketed the dragon scale without a word.

Ye Jingqiu sensed nothing amiss. The captain wasn’t much of a talker anyway—or so A-Xie said. She was the type who hid a caring heart behind a sharp tongue, not great at expressing it.

So even without the kind of encouragement she’d gotten that day in the laboratory, Ye Jingqiu wasn’t disappointed.

The captain’s actions spoke louder than words anyway.

She turned to find A-Xie—only to hear a familiar voice.

“Tonight’s mission went very well,” Shi Zui said suddenly. “You did great too.”

Ye Jingqiu halted mid-step. She turned back to find the usually aloof captain speaking again, a faint smile touching her lips.

She froze in place.

Shi Zui paused. With no response from Ye Jingqiu, she faltered, unsure what to say next. She’d only planned those two sentences.

But now there was no backing out. Meeting those expectant eyes, Captain Shi—loath to disappoint her little teammate—improvised on the spot:

“First mission completion rate: outstanding. Team coordination: impeccable. Your Yinghuo release: perfectly timed…”

Ye Jingqiu hadn’t known she had so many strengths. An indescribable fulfillment surged through her, her sense of belonging deepening even further.

One crucial detail escaped them both, however. Captain Shi had forgotten to mute her earpiece.

Thus, every member tuned into the channel fell utterly silent, listening as Team One’s captain lavished praise on her little teammate in every flowery way imaginable.

If Ning Wan hadn’t witnessed the woman unleash two flawless Instinct strikes just moments ago, she’d swear Shi Zui had been body-swapped…

Who knew she could be so eloquent!

Time flew by in the blink of an eye. Xie Pingzhi watched the pair in the distance struggling to suppress their laughter as the captain’s summary came through her earpiece:

“Overall, very good.”

The captain spoke softly, putting a final cap on their impromptu performance.

Ye Jingqiu stood frozen for a couple of beats after hearing it all, then mumbled hesitantly, “Captain… you’re praising me so much I’m about to cry.”

Shi Zui shook her head. “That’s just an objective assessment.”

She lowered her eyes to her little teammate, whom she had trained for so long, and a rare swell of accomplishment bloomed in her chest. A gentle breeze, warm with the night’s embrace, stirred the air, but Shi Zui had no inkling how utterly uncharacteristic her gaze had become. She simply paused to think, then resolved to tie up every loose end at once. Turning back to Ye Jingqiu, she asked, “Is there… anything you really want? Or someplace you’d like to visit?”

A-Xie had mentioned that high schoolers this age brimmed with boundless energy. Shi Zui herself had headed straight to Snow Mountain for two months after coming of age, just to burn some of it off. Xiao Qiu seemed to have spent her school years cooped up in Shanghai, rarely venturing out for fun.

So Shi Zui was viewing the matter entirely through a parental lens.

She had expected her little teammate to ask for a few extra vacation days in their schedule. But the moment the words left her mouth, she saw Xiao Qiu venture cautiously, “Captain, could I swap my request for something else?”

“Like what?”

Without a second thought, Ye Jingqiu replied, “Like… in the future, when you have instructions for me, could you add a little particle at the end?”

Shi Zui paused, momentarily stunned.