"I have co," she whispered to the cliff, "not to inherit your hatred."
"I have co to inherit what you fought so desperately to protect."
"This sea... is still alive."
The wind at the cliff's summit suddenly ceased.
The eyes within those ghostly blue cracks turned toward her simultaneously.
A hoarse, overlapping voice, sounding like tens of thousands of people whispering in unison, drifted from the forest of steles atop the cliff:
"Alive... what is the aning..."
"The Abyss remains... the rift remains... hatred... is never-ending..."
Bai Cheng stepped onto the summit.
Before her, dozens of dilapidated stone steles surrounded a massive, dark blue fla.
At the core of the fla were countless distorted human faces; they roared, wept, and laughed wildly, their eyes burning with hatred for the Abyss, yet also reflecting deep exhaustion and despair.
And in the deepest part of the fla, a faint, almost invisible pale golden speck of light flickered stubbornly amidst the madness.
That was the original, unpolluted conviction of the Abyssal Wardens—'Use this body as a wall to protect the myriad lights of the hos behind us.'
Bai Cheng walked up to the fla. The halo of the sparks collided with the dark blue fire, producing a piercing sound like glass scraping.
She did not attack, nor did she defend; she simply spread her arms wide.
The Star Rail Gate behind her opened completely, releasing all the flows of conviction within.
Silver radiance, golden light, amber, and sincere crimson—like a galaxy hanging upside down, they gently surged toward that dark blue fla.
"I know you are very tired," her voice pierced through the frantic whispers. "I know hatred is hard to let go."
"But look—"
Scenes from within the Star Rail Gate began to flow out:
The relit lamps of Broken Shell Island, children playing under the statues at Cuiluo Bay, the islands still struggling in the storms outside the Silent Trench, and the tense yet determined faces of her companions on the train.
"The things you protected... are still there."
"Perhaps it is scarred, perhaps it remains fragile, but it is still breathing, still waiting for the dawn."
"So," in Bai Cheng's silver eyes, the star tracks shone brilliantly as she spoke word by word, "please give the final fire to ."
"I will carry your hatred—not to sink into it, but to turn it into fuel."
"I will carry your protection—not to be trapped here, but to sow it across the broader sea."
"I have not co to beco a second Abyssal Warden."
"I have co so that this sea... will never need Abyssal Wardens again."
The /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ dark blue fla suddenly went still.
All the distorted human faces turned toward her at once, and for the first ti, the light of the sparks was reflected in their frantic eyes.
Deep within the fla, that pale golden speck of light slowly brightened.
At first it was like a firefly, then like candlelight, and finally,
It broke free from its dark blue shackles and transford into a warm yet tragic golden flow of light, surging into Bai Cheng's Star Rail Gate.
Inside the gate, beside the ancient amber embers, a second spark was ignited.
This ti, it was golden, but its edges were entwined with a ring of dark blue patterns—the fuel transford from hatred, the weight of the Abyssal Wardens' thousand-year vigil.
The prototype of the emperors imprint on Bai Cheng's forehead surfaced once more.
The pale golden patterns extended inward, already covering one-third of the imprint's area.
And at the core of the imprint, a tiny symbol like interwoven chains appeared,
Which was the prototype of the Law of Demarcation and Suppression.
She slowly landed. Within the Star Rail Gate behind her, two sparks burned quietly—one warm as amber, the other tragic as liquid gold.
The dark blue fla atop the cliff began to dissipate.
Those distorted human faces gradually cald, turning into transparent phantoms that nodded slightly to Bai Cheng before dispersing like smoke and dust, rging into the cliff rocks.
This ti, it was true eternal rest.
Bai Cheng turned, looking toward the train at the bottom of the slope and the tense faces of her companions.
She nodded gently.
The second spark was lit.
And at the distant edge of the Silent Trench, twelve figures of brilliant starlight finally tore through the last turbulent flow of laws.
The Lion Star Guard pointed his spear deep into the trench, his gaze beneath the helt cold as iron:
"I've found her."
"The hunt continues—this ti, there must be no mistakes."
To the east, the wind of Sighing Cliff blew again, but it was no longer heavy; instead, it carried a long-awaited, relieved softness.
The first line of the prologue to 'A Single Spark Can Start a Prairie Fire' had been written.
And the true storm was approaching.
The resonance of the Stardust Embers still whispered in the depths of her soul.
Bai Cheng stood atop Sighing Cliff, feeling the new power brought by the second spark.
The pale golden patterns within the prototype emperors imprint extended steadily, the chain symbol faintly circulating with the aura of the Law of Demarcation and Suppression.
She looked toward the northeast, the direction of the Forgotten Corridor; the call of the third spark was clearer than before.
The train slowly rose from the bottom of the slope and stopped beside her.
The doors opened, and her companions walked out.
Zi Yuan's gaze swept across the dissipating dark blue flas on the cliff, and she slightly sheathed her long blade.
Qingniao grinned, though the lightning on his fists subsided a bit.
Lu Duo's erald radiance gently brushed over Bai Cheng's shoulders, repairing the minor wear on her soul.
The pure heart vine in Yu Nian's arms swayed gently, its silver-white buds having fully blood.
Data streams flickered in Leng Ningxue's icy eyes, her voice calm yet urgent.
The pursuers have broken through the law turbulence at the edge of the trench; the twelve-hour buffer period has ended early.
The Star Guard Battle Group is approaching, and the Enforcent Officer's purification network is being rewoven.
We must relocate imdiately.
Bai Cheng nodded, her silver eyes looking toward the Forgotten Corridor.
The exiles of the Erald Sea's third Great Cataclysm slept there; their embers contained the conviction of migration and hope.
If she could ignite them, the Star Rail Gate would gain the law attributes to guide the path ahead.
But the Forgotten Corridor was even more dangerous than Sighing Cliff.
It was a labyrinth of ti and space, a graveyard of mories; one slight misstep and one would be lost within forever.
She turned to her companions.
This ti, I will no longer go alone.
Two sparks have been lit; the path of the emperor must be built by fellow travelers.
We go together.
Zi Yuan gripped her hilt, a determined light flashing in her eyes.
Qingniao struck his fists together, lightning silently exploding.
Lu Duo's erald radiance enveloped everyone, forming a warm life barrier.
Yu Nian lightly stroked the vine, and a silver-white halo spread out, stabilizing the surrounding emotional fluctuations.
Leng Ningxue quickly adjusted the train paraters, the navigation system locking onto the coordinates of the Forgotten Corridor.
The silver train turned and shot like a silver shadow deeper into the Sunken Bone District.
Outside the porthole, the scenery changed once more.
The infant-wraith coral and the pitch-black slope were left behind, and a vast sea area composed of pale gray mist appeared ahead.
The mist swirled slowly, forming countless vortices of varying sizes, with shattered images surfacing in the center of each vortex.
Those were fragnts of mory, echoes of history, repeatedly playing out in the temporal turbulence.
User Comments
0 comments from readers