Chapter 72: Billows Across the Ocean

At the same moment, in the Gulf of Thailand.

This was a vast expanse of sea dozens of kilometers from the mouth of the Chao Phraya River. A distant lighthouse cut through the ocean like a slice of black night; the sky had fallen completely dark. Modern fishing boats no longer feared getting lost at night, but tonight’s sea shimmered with an almost eerie blackness that sent shivers down the spine.

As a result, boats out for night fishing were few and far between.

Gazing at the night sky through a thin pane of glass, Sera suddenly shivered. For no reason at all, a layer of cold sweat broke out across her back.

“Phra Phrom Sahaba…” Sera bowed her head, praying devoutly to the Four-Faced Buddha for a safe night of fishing. The enigmatic Buddhist incantation faded into the murmur of the sea breeze, bringing a rare moment of calm.

Sera’s sister leaned against the deck railing, sighing at the meager haul in the fish hold. She turned instead to watch the radar, hoping for the luck to stumble upon a school of fish.

“Wait—wait a second?” Her sister’s excited voice rang out. “Sera, come here quick! There’s a massive school of fish!”

Had her prayer worked so fast?

Sera rushed over to the radar screen. Sure enough, the red dots indicating a dense concentration of fish grew thicker by the second, until the entire map was nearly drowned in glaring crimson. Sera, who had been fishing with her mother since childhood and knew the sea like the back of her hand, stared in slack-jawed astonishment. She’d never seen a fish tide like this!

But the bounty wasn’t over yet—the Four-Faced Buddha’s blessing seemed to be multiplying. The red dots kept surging at an unbelievable rate, the school surging impatiently toward the surface. Were they too yearning for the freedom of the open sky?

Sera sensed something was off. A grating, tooth-clenching gnaw echoed from the hull, like rats chewing through walls.

Nearshore waters shouldn’t have fish this aggressive, and their boat was hardly small—no fish would dare pit itself against such a vessel.

Her confusion mounting, Sera shoved open the wheelhouse door. A blast of salty, fishy sea wind rushed in, carrying a foul stench that assaulted her nostrils. Tonight’s breeze reeked worse than usual; Sera wrinkled her nose on instinct, only to realize something moments later.

No! This smell was all wrong.

This wasn’t the scent of the sea. It was the stomach-churning reek of blood!

Sera bolted to the gunwale. In an instant, the fishing lights flared to life, their stark white beams stabbing into the water like swords. Sera’s face went ashen. The surface wasn’t clear blue seawater—it was a frothy carpet of blood-red, churning silently like sodden cotton.

The next second, shrill screams like those of mandarin ducks pierced the air. Countless fish tore upward in a frenzy, biting and snapping. But they hadn’t deployed any lures—what were they fighting over?

Sera froze—but in that split second, a fish burst from the water straight at her. Razor teeth flashed past with a wet splat before it plunged unwillingly back into the depths.

A grotesque human face flickered into view. Trembling, Sera touched the tip of her nose. Her fingers came away slick with liquid. She stared, transfixed, as bright red blood dripped steadily down.

The man-faced, fish-tailed Chi Ju bared its fangs at humanity. Thousands upon thousands of exotic beasts roared in plunder, the “school of fish” charging human territory at unimaginable speed.

A thick pall of blood-scent hung in the air, pale bones gleaming under the moonlight.

~~~

“You’re treating me like an idiot?” Ye Jingqiu sneered. “What do you really want? Why waste time with these ridiculous demands?”

Number Thirty-Seven’s expression remained impassive. “This is our demand. Jump.”

The seawater below roiled with exotic beast scales, mingled cries like mandarin duck calls and childish wails. Ye Jingqiu pulled her gaze away and fixed it on the woman, saying nothing more.

“So your terms are a life for a life?”

“Don’t phrase it like that. Your Rampage Value is high enough right now to unleash Hurricane Blade and carve out a Vacuum Domain. Those low-level exotic beasts down there are no match for you.” Number Thirty-Seven shrugged.

Doubt flickered in Ye Jingqiu’s eyes, as if she were weighing the offer’s viability. “But if I jump, how do I know you’ll let Jiang Zhinan go?”

“If you jump, we’ll let her go, naturally. Agreements are made to bind gentlemen, not scoundrels. It’s your call.” Number Thirty-Seven drawled lazily, utterly confident that Ye Jingqiu wouldn’t dare make a scene.

The captive Jiang Zhinan finally lost her patience, her heart burning with anxiety. “Xiao Qiu, don’t! I never expected to make it back alive anyway. Meeting you and Shi Zui was already more time than I deserved. Don’t listen to them!”

Watching Jiang Zhinan struggle, Ye Jingqiu reached her limit. Her grip tightened fiercely on the knife hilt, her resolve crystallizing.

“Whatever happens after I jump, you send Jiang Zhinan away safe and sound right that instant.”

“Of course.” Number Thirty-Seven smiled at her words, making a welcoming gesture. “After you, then. Jump.”

“Xiao Qiu! Xiao Qiu, don’t do it! Ye Jingqiu, don’t make your sister worry about you!”

Jiang Zhinan thrashed her head wildly in denial, but Ye Jingqiu only flashed her a comforting smile.

Number Thirty-Seven watched as Ye Jingqiu fell silent, seemingly accepting her fate.

Ye Jingqiu’s right hand clamped onto the knife hilt as she stepped to the rooftop’s edge. She closed her eyes slowly. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she leaped—

In that instant, a fiery red shadow streaked past. Crimson flames erupted like a hurricane, blanketing the world and driving the rooftop’s temperature skyward at impossible speed! The Little Candle Dragon hurtled toward Jiang Zhinan like a bolt of lightning. A single tongue of flame instantly incinerated her captors.

It roared, flames lashing out in rage. The little dragon wasn’t even as long as an adult’s arm, but it was the sole offspring of an S-rank exotic beast in thousands of years—the legendary divine beast of flame and time. Weak? Hardly.

Dazzling firelight blazed. The Little Candle Dragon seized Jiang Zhinan and dashed for the stairwell without pause. But Number Thirty-Seven materialized like a specter, blocking their path. Her slender rapier sliced through the air, dead set on slitting throats.

Ding—

A wind-blade-charged longknife slashed in horizontally!

Blade met sword with a crisp chime like a bird’s trill. It was Ye Jingqiu! Right hand reverse-gripping her longknife, she cut forward once more. Her Iaijutsu Slash blazed at blinding speed, a killing stroke of utter finality. Moonlight danced along the edge, flashing white like lingering snow.

She had never planned to blindly obey Messiah’s commands. Her early compliance had only been to lower the enemy’s guard. The little dragon had always slumbered quietly in her pocket, unnoticed even by Shi Zui, with whom she spent every waking moment. And so, Number Thirty-Seven could never have anticipated that she had an exotic beast as her secret ally!

One white figure and one black clashed, then sprang apart in an instant. Ye Jingqiu shifted her long blade to her left hand. Her back, taut with tension, arched slightly as she shielded the little dragon and Jiang Zhinan behind her, sweeping the blade in a menacing arc.

This white-clad woman’s rank among Messiah’s followers must have been lofty. She wielded near B-level power, augmented by Iaijutsu Slash, yet she still couldn’t land so much as a scratch. Instead, her own right hand throbbed with numbness from the impact.

If only a high-level exotic beast would show up. Her Instinct offered no real boost against humans.

Ye Jingqiu ground her teeth. All this talk of dangerous species and beastly conflicts—what nonsense. Humans were the true peril. She could handle savage beasts without breaking a sweat, but humanoid foes left her helpless. The base wouldn’t even need to battle exotic beasts; give it a few years, and humanity would tear itself apart from the inside.

Number Thirty-Seven gripped her sword without a hint of panic, stepping lightly into a stance that evoked the poise of a wandering swordsman. Ye Jingqiu weighed her options for a split second, then hatched a plan. Swift as a striking viper, she exploded forward at impossible speed!

Number Thirty-Seven’s pupils shrank as she leaped to meet the charge, soaring into the air. But the instant their weapons met, Ye Jingqiu’s long blade shattered on impact. Before her foe could recover, a bullet buried itself precisely in her left shoulder.

“Bang bang bang—”

Ye Jingqiu smirked coldly around the grip of her handgun, emptying the large-caliber revolver in a heartbeat. Bullets could be deflected by elemental tricks, sure—but awakeners didn’t have eyes in the backs of their heads. Who said a shot from behind couldn’t hit its mark?

Blooms of thick blood misted the air in a crimson cloud as Number Thirty-Seven plummeted like a kite with its strings severed. Ye Jingqiu gave no quarter. Before her enemy could right herself mid-fall, she whipped out a fresh, fully loaded pistol and unleashed the magazine.

Twenty-four rounds sprayed in a deadly fan, sealing off every inch of evasion space. Number Thirty-Seven had nowhere to go. The shrill whine of bullets tearing flesh filled the air without cease. Ye Jingqiu moved too fast—even Instinct had no time to activate before the woman hit the concrete like so much sodden trash.

Crimson blossoms unfurled across the ground. Number Thirty-Seven lay motionless. In moments, the factory reeked of blood and littered with corpses. Victory had come too easily; Ye Jingqiu rose warily, doubt clouding her eyes.

An adversary like this—just dead? Blood poured endlessly from the woman’s wounds, yet Ye Jingqiu couldn’t shake the feeling of peril.

“Little dragon, guard Jiang Zhinan,” she murmured, carefully slamming a fresh magazine home and chambering a round. Finger hovering on the trigger, she advanced with utmost caution.

One second. Two. Three… Nothing stirred beneath the gun barrel. Ye Jingqiu lined up on the heart—and then pulled the trigger. Number Thirty-Seven’s eyes flew open. She lunged, clamping down on Ye Jingqiu like a vice!

“Xiao Qiu, watch out!”

The frantic cry cut through the air. Pinioned tight, Ye Jingqiu squeezed the trigger in a frenzy. Round after round punched into Number Thirty-Seven’s body, but it was like firing into a lifeless dummy—no give, no effect.

Number Thirty-Seven arched like a fish gasping its last, but her grip never slackened. Locked together, they tumbled toward the rooftop’s edge.

“You wanna die… don’t take me with you…”

Ye Jingqiu’s throat was crushed, breath ragged. She wedged a foot against the ledge, barely holding on as the little Candle Dragon and Jiang Zhinan raced toward them.

Just one more second. One more… Vision dimming, lungs burning, Ye Jingqiu saw Jiang Zhinan stretch out her hand. Their fingers nearly brushed—then Number Thirty-Seven surged forward again—

“Xiao Qiu!”

“Woof woof!”

Black and white shadows hurtled from the hundred-meter perch. Jiang Zhinan and the little Candle Dragon’s cries faded into the wind. With a final, desperate kick, Ye Jingqiu shoved her foe away and cranked Hurricane Blade to maximum!

“Bang!”

Number Thirty-Seven and Ye Jingqiu plunged into the Blood Pool in tandem. The ravenous exotic beasts, waiting eagerly, swarmed the pair. The bodies sank slowly; bereft of defenses, Number Thirty-Seven vanished amid the churning waves of fangs and claws.

Ye Jingqiu’s plight was no less dire. Rampage Value nearly spent, the Vacuum Domain of her Hurricane Blade flickered and shattered under constant assault. Exotic beasts battered the wind barrier from all sides. Teeth gritted, she fought upward through the murk.

Then a hand seized her ankle.

Ye Jingqiu’s blood ran cold. She yanked her dagger free and spun—staring into a face she knew all too well.

“It’s you?!”