Chapter 40: Spreading Wings

Qianye carried the girl as he leapt out of the water from a distance more than a hundred meters away, both surrounded by a faint pinkish glow of power. The girl remained perfectly clean, while half of Qianye’s clothes were soaked with mist. Though Qianye could project his power outside his body beyond normal levels, it wasn’t especially stable; more importantly, his Dawn Power had dwindled significantly.

Curiously, the girl stretched out her finger, poking gently at the shimmering aura. She watched her fair fingers, dainty like chive tips, cut through a glow resembling the crimson of morning clouds. Even though she experienced no tangible sensation whatsoever, her internal power crystal began vibrating softly, reacting with apparent resonance toward the strong vitality pouring forth from the boy beside her.

It was such a strange, novel sensation, as if the monochrome void she used to inhabit had suddenly burst into color, gradually blooming into vibrant life.

The gentle chill of the girl’s face rested warmly on the joint of Qianye’s neck while her breath caressed faintly against his skin. But Qianye paid no mind to such delicate intimacy—he was entirely engrossed in seeking out rocks in the water to leap across, bounding farther and faster across the winding river course.

Suddenly, his swift sprint faltered. In the vague distance, near the waterfall’s direction, Qianye caught whispers of a terrified shriek from a dying human.

“Your guards—where are they?” Qianye asked bluntly.

The girl shook her head. The silk strands of her hair brushed his cheek, tingling teasingly at his thoughts. “I… ran away secretly. My parents insist on marrying me off to a man over fifty!” The soft tremble in her voice grew faint with suppressed tears.

It was unbearable to imagine such a tender, pure young girl trapped in such fate—an outrage any hot-blooded youth must face with fury.

Qianye hesitated momentarily before posing again, “Was there a private villa or estate of yours in this area?”

It was a fair question. The nearest city in control of the Zhao clan remained nearly six hundred kilometers away, and regardless of how talented the young lady might be, a normal girl deprived of power certainly could not have independently navigated through such deep wilderness terrain. Yet, more mysterioudly—it would truly take a house of exceptional power and prestige to construct such a retreat upon the fragile borderlands that separated humanity and dark races’ domains.

Eyes fluttering briefly, the lady puckered her tiny lips out of Qianie’s sight; a spontaneous flash of playfulness softened her normally angelic aura with unexpected vitality.

As they moved forward slowly now, having long passed the waters below and crossed endless rising fields of the hilly expanse in their wake. Here, Qianye deftly and instinctively crafted simple warning markers and deceptive traps during movement.

A wide patchy spread along this stretch of road housed numerous creeping barberry bushes. The fine needle-shaped leaves emitted subtle scents, useful for driving insects or even creatures with refined senses such as bloodkind away, unnoticed by common untrained human olfaction.

Although Qianye recognized how Zaren the bloodkind viscount likely memorized and remembered his distinctive aura scent, it followed this little human girl—whose aura barely existed naturally—was surely difficult to trace. After the long flow of the river’s mist washed all clues of scent clean, passing through thickets emitting such confusing smells further nullified their trail.

Therefore, after separation, Zarn would find her nearly impossible to follow.

After about an hour passed, the boy carried her to the low yet gentle hillside and paused briefly at the edge of dark rock hallow.

There, Qianye set her gently upon the ground and reached instinctively into his pockets checking for any damp residue—but damp the soft sleeves had grown even without river contact. With skilled ease, he retrieved equipment stored from the sealed partition of his pack—prepared a small fire crackling within seconds—and left her momentarily to set traps outwardly into their surroundings.

Peeking briefly at the cave’s mouth, she watched curiously him work with fascination, yet time remained limited and precious.

Judging from that desperate scream, Qianye surmised bloodkind Zarn encountered some third person or creature. Yet judging her indifference as someone unrelated, those shrieks were likely not her guards’. Whatever had transpired up at the waterfall, probably two or three hours at most of reprieve was the best to hope for.

At this junction, Qianye had but limited time to erect mere defensive traps against wild beasts. What concerned him even more was concealing and eliminating all evidence of their presence. If all worked well, the innocent girl, mistakenly caught in these perils, may soon slip quietly away free upon Qianye’s deliberate distractions, leading the noble vampiric viscount off her trail entirely.

Concerning her familial feud—if not for that blood threat, perhaps Qianye, normally, would have taken it upon himself to discover where this lovely lost flower might wish heading—and perhaps guide her path accordingly. But for the present? Only hope could remain that, since her family possessed power great enough to erect their retreat here among dangerous borders, then surely protection adequate must lie within waiting their safe return.

Once the cave environs secured sufficiently, he pushed exploration further afield, twice circling this rise in terrain’s contour before returning to cave’s hollow embrace. There the scene welcomed as the young girl, seated upon ground, faced the flickering fire with curious grace.

Crimson dancing light illuminated the subtle elegant angles tracing her profile’s beauty: fair flesh glowing softly translucent, a quiet composed solemn resting where her youthful merriment had vanished. Even her pallid lips trembled slightly, like a porcelain vessel fragile beneath fate.

One still beauty; the next moment, vibrant yet again.

Seated before her, Qianye settled himself quietly, restoring a little order to his breath. Alas though: dawn vitality teetered alarmingly low. Yet alertness remained a necessity for survival; recovery a luxury not permitted by such grave danger surrounding his mission now.

“I am called Xixi. And what might your name be?”

“I bear the name Qianye.”

“And—what now will we do?”

With measured words, the young man responded, “I will mislead Zarn away from this hill. Soon enough, you should return safely when he leaves. Once the time is clear and danger far removed, summon word for your guards!”

Yet in a delicate twist reminiscent of a child sulking over unfulfilled whims, Xixi protruded lips faintly into pouting posture, tucking her chin upon bended knee thereafter—a fragile, curled ball.

Regarding her next soft question, Qianye paused: “Perhaps… talk again with home…?”

The youth fell silent considering himself.

“I know not,” admitting freely, “how else one might counsel when—home, like that—is no longer for I.”

Memories rose from the shadows like spring blossoms—those days when Qiqi used clever methods at Tianxuan Spring Chase to persuade and instruct his attire—accustomed him unconsciously towards noble fashion details he couldn’t have learned otherwise, even today.

Now that Qiangye studied anew: her clothing, though outwardly modestly clad; her trinkets, unassuming as fine as the rarest silk—those details whispered unmistakably toward a pedigree beyond common gentry ranks; indeed within noble bloodline, a favored mainbranch daughter, despite weak talent manifesting zero prowess at power.

Indeed high clans valued youth primarily through capability. For her such delicate comfort despite clear absence of talent, her parents likely possessed hearts not frozen entirely.

“You… had no family?”

As she gasped with shock—a rare emotion— Qiangye instantly shot upward.

Silvery eyes fixed with alert gravity; he unscrewed the shining fang at his hip and placed gently into the outstretched soft hand.

“My most sincere apologies—through entanglement in my path, these misfortunes find you undeservedly. Accept this!”

Then in the span of one breath’s time— his hands traced around her waist swiftly yet gently lifting a peculiar ancient but intricately crafted handgun with elaborate engravings gleaming on its frame.

Startled, she barely had strength to voice her protest.

“What do you intend—!”

Remaining only still long enough for this single sentence:

“Remain here within shelter. Never, never dare stepping outside into open!”

He moved—already turning away; already slipping outwards.

As Xixi struggled to rise, hand stretching into an empty grasp, only grasped a fading echo of his retreating form’s trailing corner: nothing more than a faint afterimage before he was gone.

At the very instant of his departure beyond cave mouth, Qianye didn’t descend back down through the slope climbed previously—Instead, selecting a predetermined route already studied ahead; Qianye instead ascended rapidly through the rear rock-walls climbing upward—speed traversing toward the opposing slopes rear-facing portion.

Here grew a vast tangle of thick understorey—intertwining tree stems bound into a jungle-like tangle dense in clinging roots with creeping climbers. The vantage point was ideal, height aiding line of sight through narrow interstices within vegetation and distant visibility.

At this point sky darkened—yet twilight still lingered at far horizons holding dusk open briefly— narrow streak of remaining golden sunlight reflected along undulating ridges of distant hills—just enough, in those last moments of natural luminescence.

A subtle jet-colored blur, darting sharply among hills and valleys beyond. The target’s shadow approached unmistakably.

Descending urgently along mountainside slope now, Qianye extended spiritual awareness to detect returning pulses coming from small devices previously placed across terrain.

Everything unfolded properly—the viscount tracked him down along the path intended precisely. But if Qianie failed to allow immediate exposure soon—Zahr’en instincts may well alert and evade deviation.

Qianye, with both steadiness yet urgency within hands firm upon that anciently adorned pistol, had only just heard her start of explanation, yet enough comprehension already gathered from half-heard warning to deduce her concern.

An imitation of the legendary firearm—Manjusaka! One of ten world-renowned weapons, and not only amongst the very first captured human weapons, also possessed most legendary powers. This iconic firearm enjoyed popularity, frequently mimicked across nobles’ banquets to excess: often five or even more fake replicas could be seen at a single grand gala.

Taking all that into account, since her talent level as an ordinary human likely meant only Level One—probably even below second-tier grade weaponry class.

However Level One was precisely what Qianye sought now. Even with his dwindled energy reserves, Double Blossom would be impossible. The actual power capacity of the fake pistol was unimportant—what mattered lay in mid-range firepower, the necessary bait required for drawing the viscount deeper along. Whether a critical wound would follow mattered less, if an opportunity arose allowing him to secretly plant a dose of blood-poison, it would be sheer fortune.

Upon crest of next descent laid the location Qianye planned for his first traceable encounter.

Leaping forward decisively, eyes locked toward approaching Zarn. Then without even blinking further delay—Qianyi drew gun and fired!

The antique hammer of the primitive-style pistol reeled and snapped shut with a sharp “clak” — glowing barrel became see-thru clear while thin filament inside radiated faint pale glow akin only to the old wick of an unlighted oil lamp.

In that precise moment, sudden blackness swallowed him. All senses collapsed.

In that strange instant, only one focus in his world remained: the golden pink hammer swinging as though a pendulum had completed its ascent—and plummeted downward.

Where it fell revealed—a boundless abyss!

A pull more than irresistible, the abyss tugged at each energy center Qianye’s body carried.

Each exhausted spot—suddenly reigniting into blinding brilliance with an intense ferocity—as though ready to consume themselves. Dawn power nearly drained previously surged—its rhythm violently stirred by the pull into chaotic tidal surges. The torrent burst upward—a great spiraling wave vanishing straight toward bottomless nothingness.

Nothing left for feeling.

Only the abyss—a devouring presence consuming everything within awareness.

As reality dissolved into the vortex, amidst unknown reaches unseen—a flicker of nascent life awoke in that endless void.

No brightness, but the scent of vitality—began slowly spreading like fragrance.

As Dawn’s surge exploded—his concealed golden-red essence leapt into being, instantly racing from nowhere toward his heart for safe keeping.

Expanding outward from that sheltered depth—gold rays multiplied hundreds to thousands over within instants!

A golden brilliance shined through everything, tinted ever slightly pink, recalling dawn’s earliest kiss upon soil.

Light surged and something stirred in its embrace—slowly it took form. Soon, unmistakably clear: globes of golden flame danced amidst light.

Beyond the eyes of Qianyi—who was too preoccupied—Xixi appeared atop summit inaccessible by common human eyes, swiftly tracing arcane gestures into night wind in precise motions. Then the girl’s concerned worry transformed into wide-eyed awe, astonishing astonishment reflected in her suddenly dilated pupils—and above the peak, a pair of enormous light-wings gleamed golden in the night!

A pink mist arose across open space, drifting specks golden—dapples of softness unassuming at first before growing steadily intense—as if morning’s herald had just risen.

Mist embraced the young man in gentle suspension aloft, keeping his form upright in the posture maintained in shooting—features cloaked in dancing lights so he remained expressionless, unseen behind their undulations.

Within hushed night air—echo sounded—so faint, nearly silent: a puff like flower’s final petal reaching the soil. As though somewhere beyond bloom bloomed again—its sweet scent soon to drift forth and be smelt.

Xixi nearly overlooked the sound had her ears not already learned its rhythm.

The glint of fading beam passed across void—nearly invisible save one trained observer’s eye.

And abruptly—the crimson mist dispersing in currents around Qianyi’s form vanished.

Gold motes within exploded with sudden luminance.

After first flare’s brilliance dimmed and sight readjusted—floating above the world was a pair of majestic radiant wings suspended. Each feather—each luminous fragment—a separate ball of dancing, golden flame alive with motion!