Chapter 822: The Person Beside Me

Qi Xia slowly stood up facing the terrifying back, then stepped forward to stare closely at the rows of grotesque eyes.

“Why did you do this?” Qi Xia asked.

“Why did I do this…?” Earth Snake paused. “Are you asking me?”

Qi Xia sighed slightly in frustration.

Earth Snake sneered and continued, “I’d like to know too… why did I do this? Just because I couldn’t provide anything… I had to endure this so-called ‘Divine Baptism.’ But as you can see, no matter what, I could never become a ‘god’—not even a ‘demi-god,’ because at least demi-gods are insane…”

He slowly turned his head, glancing sideways at Qi Xia behind him. “Even you could become what you are now, but I never could.”

“We’re the same,” Qi Xia said. “True freedom isn’t about doing whatever you want—it’s about refusing whatever you don’t. You’re still far from it.”

“Damn it…” Earth Snake chuckled bitterly. “Of course I know that. But this kind of ‘freedom’ is the only thing I have left.”

“You—”

“Qi Xia,” Earth Snake interrupted. “There’s one thing I’ve always been curious about.”

“What?”

“Even if one day I could return to the real world… what kind of existence would we be? People with beast heads and hides… people with eyes implanted in our bodies… How could we possibly go back?”

“That… isn’t something you need to worry about,” Qi Xia replied expressionlessly.

“No… You must know,” Earth Snake turned back, his voice tinged with resentment. “You never included us in your plans from the start… did you? You knew that even if we made it back to the real world, we’d just be monsters—hunted and despised. We couldn’t even walk down the street. So your plan never accounted for the eight of us… You deceived us… From the very beginning, you—”

Qi Xia placed a hand on Earth Snake’s shoulder, cutting him off.

“Earth Snake,” he called softly.

The moment Earth Snake turned to meet Qi Xia’s gaze, he saw eyes brimming with murderous intent. Before he could react, Qi Xia’s icy words slithered from his throat:

“Did you eat something rotten? What gives you the confidence to speculate about my plans?”

Earth Snake sensed something deeply unnatural stirring within Qi Xia—it wasn’t just that he had “changed.”

It was as if he had become an entirely different creature.

“You…” Earth Snake gulped. “Wait… That phrasing… I’ve heard it somewhere before…”

A flood of old memories suddenly flashed through Earth Snake’s mind, freezing him in shock.

Years ago, a pristine white goat had glared at him and asked coldly:

“Earth Snake, did you eat something rotten? How dare you speak to my people like that?”

Back then, Earth Snake had argued back furiously: “I’ll say whatever I damn well please! Besides, half your books came from me—why shouldn’t I make demands?”

The two had nearly come to blows, and for a long time afterward, they had despised each other.

“What the hell is going on…?” Earth Snake turned back, staring at Qi Xia in disbelief. “Are you… White—?”

Qi Xia ignored him, taking a slow step back. “Connect the dots in your mind before you speculate about my actions.”

“This is insane…” Earth Snake lowered his head, as if grappling with something horrifying. “You didn’t disappear… You’ve been with us all along?! Why? Does everyone else know about this?!”

“Only a few,” Qi Xia said. “They pieced it together from clues, but I couldn’t confirm it. For a Zodiac to reveal their identity is suicide.”

“But why?!” Earth Snake’s voice trembled. “What’s your reason? Why didn’t you tell us anything? You were right here with us, yet you let us drown in anxiety and fear?”

Qi Xia didn’t answer, only saying calmly, “Just know this—there’s a way to save you.”

Earth Snake studied Qi Xia again. If he had once been the white goat and was now a “participant,” it meant he had truly found a way to turn back from a monster into a human.

At that realization, Earth Snake could no longer maintain his composure.

“Qi Xia—quick!” He grabbed Qi Xia’s shoulders desperately. “How did you do it?! Tell me! Save me! Make me a ‘participant’ again! I don’t want to be a Zod—”

Qi Xia’s brow furrowed. In an instant, he clamped his hand over Earth Snake’s elongated mouth, silencing him. The air grew heavy.

The abrupt motion startled the others nearby.

“Earth Snake,” Qi Xia said coldly. “You’re losing control. Think carefully—’Zodiacs never retreat.'”

Earth Snake stared at Qi Xia for a long moment before his gaze finally steadied. Qi Xia released his grip.

“Right… ‘Zodiacs never retreat,'” Earth Snake muttered bitterly. “Even after all this, I have to stand firm in my position…”

Then, as if remembering something, he turned back to Qi Xia. “You don’t know ‘Zodiacs never resonate,’ but you remember ‘Zodiacs never retreat’… What’s wrong with your memory?”

“My memories are like sunlight through blinds,” Qi Xia said. “Countless beams slip through the slats, but they never form a complete picture.”

“What a strange phenomenon…” Earth Snake shook his head, then chuckled darkly. “No… then again, nothing about you would surprise me.”

“So, can you tell me now?” Qi Xia stepped behind Earth Snake again, eyeing the horrifying sight. “Why did he implant eyes in you?”

“It’s a long story… This is the second method for Zodiacs to achieve ‘resonance.'” Earth Snake’s voice was heavy with sorrow as he glanced at the sky outside. “Damn it all… I can actually talk about this now.”

He turned back and spoke softly to the four of them:

“You must have noticed by now—to activate the so-called ‘divine power’ of ‘resonance,’ two things are needed. First, ‘imagination.’ Second, ‘belief.'”

“Yes,” Qi Xia nodded.

“If those two conditions are met… theoretically, you can ‘manifest your desires.’ Doesn’t that sound like a dream come true?”

“But there are drawbacks,” Qi Xia said.

“Exactly,” Earth Snake agreed. “The first is the side effects. Mortals wielding ‘divine magic’—no body can endure it. The deeper your belief, the more you lose your mind. Those who don’t go mad still risk dying instantly under the brutal force of ‘divine magic’—like those who can combust, freeze, or enhance themselves. Every one of them pays a steep price for that fleeting moment of ‘wish fulfillment.'”