Chapter 1267: A Natural Monster

Upon hearing this, Tianshe paused for a moment, and after a few seconds, he felt a chill run down his spine at the question.

Yes, if “Calamity” truly were on his side, how could he use her to win a war?

The difficulty of this question was no less than that of once creating the “Divine Beasts,” filled with paradoxes.

After all, by normal logic, the moment one believed “Calamity” was an ally, their own faction had already lost.

Thus, “Calamity” could never be an ally from the start—she had to remain in the opposing faction, fighting against him, to ensure his faction’s long-term victory.

He couldn’t consider “Calamity” an ally, and neither could she. Only by maintaining this delicate balance would her existence work in his favor.

But Tianshe soon noticed another problem.

“Calamity” caused one faction or organization after another to fail. Amid such prolonged suffering and defeat, how could he ensure she didn’t perish in the process?

Joining a team would doom it; aligning with an organization would collapse it; even seeking refuge with the “Zodiacs” might invite fatal gambles.

Under these circumstances, how difficult would it be to protect a “Calamity”?

If he chose to save her in danger, she would become “one of his own,” triggering “Calamity” and wiping out his faction.

If he chose not to save her, it would subconsciously imply she was “not an ally,” meaning the consequences of her “Calamity” might not benefit him either.

Baishe’s question sent Tianshe into a prolonged brainstorming session, ultimately leading him to one conclusion—

“Calamity” couldn’t possibly be part of someone’s plan, because the practical difficulty of executing it was far too great.

No matter how he thought about it, it was clear: even if someone had the power to protect “Calamity” all this time and send her aboard the “train,” how could they make her willingly join the Azure Dragon faction?

Moreover, once anyone heard her “divine ability” was “Calamity,” would they ever want to recruit her as an ally?

She was a charged chess piece—every time he picked her up, he’d lose a layer of skin.

So it had to be a coincidence—an absurd yet perfectly fitting coincidence.

“A person wanting to join the Azure Dragon just happened to be a newly awakened ‘Calamity.’ That explanation makes everything slightly more reasonable,” Tianshe rationalized. “In my view, no one deliberately brought ‘Calamity’ here…”

“Hahaha!” Baishe burst into laughter again, though his voice grew weaker as blood from his many wounds dripped into the endless darkness. “What a ‘coincidence’… hahaha…”

“Baishe… stop laughing! You’re really going to die, don’t you know?!” Tianshe said frantically. “I’ll stitch your wounds now—maybe there’s still hope… I truly don’t want to wander here alone…”

With the last of his strength, Baishe turned his face toward Tianshe and asked, “My dear teacher… look into my eyes. Do you still want to save me?”

Tianshe studied those eyes carefully, then his expression gradually darkened. Those pupils still reflected unrelenting murderous intent—not the slightest bit diminished.

Even if he did save him, Baishe would spend every moment afterward trying to kill him.

Beyond that killing intent, however, something else seemed hidden deep within.

Frowning, Tianshe attempted for the first time to peer into Baishe’s subconscious. Moments later, he found something heartbreaking—regret.

Seeing Tianshe silent, Baishe turned his lifeless eyes back to the stars and whispered, “My dear teacher… I once swore to carve countless wounds into your back, fill them with eyes, then blind them one by one… to turn you into a monster like me. But… I failed…”

“Hey… Baishe…” Tianshe gritted his teeth and rummaged through the rubble for a needle and thread. “Don’t talk… Let me save you first… We’ll deal with the rest later. It’s just the two of us here… If you die… then I…”

He pulled Baishe’s arm and inserted the needle, but the more he stitched, the heavier his heart grew—an overwhelming urge to cry clouded his mind.

Baishe lowered his head slightly, his voice even quieter now. “Also… I met a few sisters… wanted them to join my ‘Mutual Aid Society’… so they could visit me regularly… chat with me… But they never agreed… Was it because I’m a monster…?”

“Hey!! Don’t die!!” Tianshe didn’t know what he was feeling anymore—his eyes were bloodshot.

Was it grief? Sorrow? Regret? Fear of loneliness? Or something else entirely?

He couldn’t untangle the mess of emotions. All he knew was that he was crying, and this might be the last time he ever heard another person speak.

Baishe slowly closed his eyes, his expression serene. “Teacher… I never wanted to be a monster.”

“Then don’t!!” Tianshe roared. “Baishe… open your eyes first…”

“But how did I end up a monster my whole life…?” A single tear slipped from Baishe’s closed eye. “From the moment I was born… people called me a monster. Even here, I remained one. Teacher… When I met you, I thought someone would finally value me for my intellect… But instead, you personally remade me into another kind of monster…”

Tianshe’s expression twisted—whether in shame or guilt, he didn’t know—as he pressed his hands against Baishe’s horrific wounds, his own eyes red.

“I truly wanted to shed this monstrous identity… Qixia once told me… that in the end, he’d find a way to peel this hide off me… so I could openly embrace those I love…”

With his last ounce of strength, he opened his eyes one final time, gazing at his own pale, scaly hand:

“Yet… this skin remains… Even in death… I am… still… a mon…”

Before Tianshe could finish tending to his wounds, Baishe gradually fell still.

His expression was no longer sorrowful—just open-eyed, staring at his own palm, as if peacefully asleep.

“NOOOOO!!” Tianshe screamed through tears, his voice raw with terror. “DON’T DO THIS TO ME!! DON’T!!”

No matter how he shook Baishe, the latter remained motionless, expressionlessly fixed on his hand.

In the utterly silent space, only Tianshe’s agonized wails echoed—like a cry lost in the depths of the universe, unheard by anyone.