Baran was sent flying through the air like a feather that had lost its weight. His body was unconscious, and blood dripped from him drop by drop, as if drawing a crimson trail behind him through the empty sky. It was nothing more than what remained of the explosion.
Then, a hand reached out.
No one saw exactly when it appeared, nor where the power radiating from it had come from. Murong simply extended his hand with an ease that no human could imitate, and the wounds began to withdraw from Baran's body as though they had never existed. Even the injuries bleeding across Narvik's body disappeared as well, without anyone noticing the very moment they were healed. Narvik looked around for Suleiman, hoping that he too had been healed, but it was nothing more than wishful thinking... Suleiman had already vanished, as though the air itself had swallowed him.
Murong caught Baran in his arms, and at that exact moment, space itself split open like a wound in the fabric of the world. Suleiman emerged from the rift, swinging his scythe in a swift motion, attempting to drive it into Murong's body.
The scythe stopped in midair.
No one touched it. Nothing visible blocked it. It simply froze halfway through its path, then shattered into fragments, while Suleiman was hurled away as though an invisible hand had thrown him. Through it all, Murong's expression did not change in the slightest, as if none of it was even worthy of a glance.
"By the way, Narvik... do you want to fight Xue Mei?"
Narvik smiled despite everything. "Yes. I want to break through to the Connected Realm after I defeat her."
The entire world was measured by only one standard: strength. In the world of Manuscript Readers, Xue Mei stood at the very top, the undisputed number one. As for the Connected Realm, its master was the young man from the Underworld Death Sect, the unquestioned strongest among everyone who lived in that world.
"Alright. She's in Moon Blade City. If you leave tomorrow, you'll arrive in three days." Murong spoke while his hands continued healing Baran. Even so, not once did a smile appear on his face, as though smiling was something beneath a being like him.
"Moon Blade?" Narvik asked, his voice filled with confusion.
Murong let out a sigh and frowned slightly. "It's a city not far from here. Legend says it belongs to the swordsman, the Golden Moon Sword."
The Golden Moon Sword had been one of the strongest warriors during the era of the Demonic Emperor, a name whose echo still remained even after all these centuries.
Before Narvik could express his shock, Murong spoke again.
"You are truly brave... to attack me."
Narvik knew he was referring to Suleiman, so he quickly replied,
"Please, Your Highness, Suleiman didn't mean it."
Murong slowly turned toward him.
"Your Highness? Hmm... Although I am the son of a king, you are also the son of a king, Narvik."
He stepped closer and asked in a calm voice whose tone revealed nothing,
"Do you truly care about this boy?"
After saying those words, Murong extended his hand once more. Suleiman began floating in the air, coughing up blood, unable to move or speak under the weight of an invisible pressure whose source could not be seen. Then, Suleiman was suddenly pulled toward Murong's arm. Grabbing him by the neck, Murong asked,
"This arm... are you the son of the Ruler of the Cursed Abyss?"
Before anyone could answer, the sky itself split apart.
A long-haired man stepped out of the crack. His body was covered with scattered injuries, and blood nearly covered every part of him. He was breathing heavily, and before he even examined his surroundings, he spoke in a broken voice,
"What was that? A moment ago, I felt an enormous fluctuation of energy... Luckily, Murong didn't come here."
He was still suspended in the sky when he looked down.
He saw Narvik staring at him.
Murong was looking at him as well.
Even Suleiman, Number "Pain," turned to look at him.
The man looked at Suleiman, then at Murong. In his eyes appeared something like the horrifying realization of a truth he had never expected.
"Damn it!"
he shouted, then fled with every ounce of strength he had.
"At last, you've appeared."
Murong said, and those were the only words in which his tone sounded even slightly alive.
Murong released Suleiman and flew after the strange man, and the chase began once again, leaving behind a silence filled with questions that no one could answer.
Who was that man?
And why was he so terrified of Murong that he fled before Murong had even reached him?
Taking advantage of the absence of the two, Narvik leaped forward, grabbed Suleiman and Baran, and escaped eastward.
Two days passed, and they found themselves standing before one of the villages.
Many things happened during that time. Although Suleiman had been injured, his wounds healed quickly, for Murong's strike had been nothing more than an extremely light touch by his standards. Even so, it was enough to push him beyond the limits of the Connected Realm.
Afterward, Baran woke up. He understood why Murong had been in that place, but he did not utter a single word. He merely let out a silent sigh, burdened by a sense of weakness he refused to admit.
Half a day later, Baran and the others left the village, heading toward Moon Blade City.
"Is that demoness really in Moon Blade City?" Baran asked.
His memories drifted back to the days when he had spent most of his time in the Kingdom of the Sun, where he had come to know the entire royal family, and they had come to know him as well. After the Fire Clan had been destroyed, the Kingdom of the Sun, led by the royal family, had been the only force to intervene in the war between the Fire Clan and the King of Light. Zavlian had been there as well, for he had been Baran's teacher.
"Yes. I want to defeat her, and then I'll break through to the Connected Realm. By the way, Baran, when will you enter the Connected Realm?"
Baran let out a sigh and spoke with a voice carrying the weight of truth more than uncertainty.
"I truly don't know... I don't know."