“The path to victory…?”
That brief sentence instantly opened Yan Zhichun’s mind. She had never imagined that an ability called “Tracking” could actually produce an “Effect of Causality.”
If she followed this line of thinking… then “Message Transmission” could also send messages to her future self, and “Pocket Plucking” could directly claim the fruits of victory. Indeed, only by being mad enough could one truly grasp the essence of “Echo.”
“Watch this.”
The old man lightly pinched one of Yan Zhichun’s long strands of hair, and it began to writhe in his hand like a tiny snake.
In the distance, the Black Goat and the Longhorn Beetle were still colliding, producing deafening sounds. The two of them seemed like performers in this vast square, putting on a desperate show while everyone around held their breath and watched. The only difference was that this performance would earn no applause—and no one could leave.
Gradually, some of the “Extremists” began attempting to cast their “Echo” toward what they believed was the Longhorn Beetle’s direction. But those “Echoes” all seemed to vanish into the depths of the sea, receiving no response whatsoever.
Yan Zhichun stared at the strand of hair in the old man’s hand. After twisting for a while, it stiffened like a hook, pointing firmly in one direction.
She followed its tip—it wasn’t pointing at the Black Goat or the Longhorn Beetle, but toward a strange corner of the square.
If she had to say what was in that corner, the only thing there was the “Ants.”
“See that, girl?” the old man said. “That is the ‘path to victory.'”
Naturally, Yan Zhichun was skeptical. If the strand of hair pointed toward the “Ants,” that didn’t seem like her own path to victory—it seemed more like something the old man subconsciously desired.
Seeing her hesitation, the old man’s expression darkened. “You don’t believe me…?”
“I…” Yan Zhichun didn’t know how to respond.
“Even if you knew the Longhorn Beetle’s location, so what?” the old man pressed. “You already know where she is now, don’t you?”
He extended a finger caked in black mud, pointing toward the Black Goat. “We all know she’s there. The question is—how do we kill her?”
Yan Zhichun followed his finger, her expression grim. Yes, everyone knew the Longhorn Beetle was there. But sheer numbers and “Echoes” still couldn’t give them an advantage.
How long the “Extremists” would survive depended entirely on how long the Black Goat could hold out.
This was nothing more than a drawn-out, helpless wait for death.
“Maybe I have no choice but to believe.” Yan Zhichun turned her gaze back to the “Ant” the strand of hair had pointed to. “If you distrust someone, don’t use them; if you use them, don’t distrust them. I’ll go see what’s so strange about that ‘Ant.'”
Just as she was about to leave, the old man grabbed her again. “What about the ‘secret’ you promised me?”
“My ‘secret’…” Yan Zhichun paused before answering. “All I can say is this—in my memories, a certain ‘Faceless One’ was created by a ‘Zodiac.'”
“A ‘Zodiac’… created a ‘Faceless One’?” The old man’s entire expression shifted at those words, the deep wrinkles on his face smoothing out as if he’d just heard something earth-shattering. “Does that mean the ‘Zodiac’ is a creator…?”
“If we survive this, I’ll tell you the full story of that ‘Zodiac.'” Yan Zhichun hesitated before adding, “It might be a long one.”
With that, she straightened up and strode toward the “Ant,” leaving the old man standing there, stunned.
The Black Goat had endured six consecutive attacks from the Longhorn Beetle. Though his arms ached terribly, he hadn’t yet felt any real threat.
Three of those attacks had come from straight ahead, and three from diagonally above.
Would a normal person, in just six attacks, strike from above three times?
If it wasn’t a fondness for jumping, then there was only one explanation.
The Black Goat rubbed his arms and muttered under his breath, “‘Concealment,’ ‘Amplification,’ ‘Levitation.’ Longhorn Beetle, I’ve seen through you. These three abilities aren’t enough to kill me.”
Though it was unclear who he was speaking to, the Longhorn Beetle’s assault noticeably slowed after his words.
A few seconds later, an “Extremist” not far away was suddenly torn apart, their body shattered as if struck by an overwhelming force.
By now, every “Extremist” had paled. It was as if a beast they’d been observing had suddenly broken free of its restraints.
“Interesting.” The Black Goat strode forward, still massaging his arms. “Even if you kill everyone here, it won’t matter. In the end, you’ll still have to deal with me.”
Another “Extremist” beside him was crushed, their blood splattering across his pitch-black fur.
Then, a violent gust of wind surged toward the only moving figure in the square—Yan Zhichun.
Seeing this, the Black Goat slowly grinned. “What a pathetic display… Killing dozens of people one by one would take too long. Need me to help?”
With that, he seized the nearest “Extremist” by the throat and hurled them straight at Yan Zhichun.
Every “Extremist” on the field widened their eyes in horror. Even Yan Zhichun turned back in shock, only to see the “Extremist” collide with something invisible right in front of her.
The sound of bones shattering was deafening, and the resulting shockwave nearly knocked Yan Zhichun off her feet.
Now, it was clear to everyone—the Black Goat had struck the Longhorn Beetle. That should’ve been good news. But just seconds ago, the Black Goat had personally killed an “Extremist.”
Yan Zhichun felt this was a case of “relieving the besieged by besieging the base of the besiegers.” His act of killing served two purposes.
First, to show the Longhorn Beetle that the “Extremists” weren’t his weakness. Even if she slaughtered them all, it wouldn’t threaten him, which would drastically reduce her motivation to kill them. Second, to make her realize that if her focus wasn’t on him, he’d exploit any opening to strike.
Sacrificing a pawn to protect the king. Yan Zhichun realized she might have misunderstood the White Goat’s intentions. The Black Goat wasn’t ruthless—he was just too cunning.
True enough, the Longhorn Beetle vanished once more, ceasing her attacks.
Seizing the opportunity, Yan Zhichun continued toward the “Ant.” Along the way, she carefully observed how it differed from the others. Since the “Ants” had their facial features gouged out, they all looked nearly identical—only their posture and behavior set them apart.
Soon, she noticed something odd. Unlike just minutes earlier, all the “Ants” were now crouched on the ground, their hands pressed against the floor. Their movements were eerily synchronized, as if they were performing the same bizarre ritual.
A thought struck Yan Zhichun.
These “Ants” had lost all their senses. In theory, they shouldn’t even know a battle was raging in the square.
So… could they be perceiving the outside world by feeling the vibrations through their hands on the ground?
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