Translator:
Nyoi-Bo Studio
Editor:
Nyoi-Bo Studio
In this foul fog, countless iron pieces scratched against each other sharply. The sound was like a dragon crawling on stones, its scales scraping against the stones, sparks flying from the friction.
Sound accompanied by a horrible stench rushed into his mouth, nose, and eardrum. It tortured his head, making Ye Qingxuan suddenly see black in front of his eyes, struggling to walk.
Ruff! Ruff!
In the blur, he suddenly heard a sharp roar from Old Phil, followed by a hard bite on his thigh.
Old Phil was really a fierce dog, whose bite was always vicious–painful enough for people to keel over, and roll on the ground in pain. Ye Qingxuan’s mind suddenly cleared.
Then Old Phil turned around and bit Victor, restoring Victor’s movement as well.
This pain therapy was so simple and effective, but it was not selfless. Ye Qingxuan felt that Old Phil was taking revenge for not having gotten some sausage.
Old Phil looked at him indirectly. Every time Old Phil looked at him like that, Ye felt that it was disappointed at him because of his lack of progress over the years, continuing to rely on Old Phil to save him–it was really shameful and troubling.
Old Phil turned around, and used its tail skillfully to whip the two idiots, indicating that they should not stupidly to stay in place, and should instead hurry up and follow it.
The horrible stench could confuse others, but was not able to confuse Old Phil. It could smell the sausages Ye Qingxuan was eating behind him halfway across town, so it could certainly lead them back.
Ye Qingxuan felt the sounds of sharp iron friction getting closer. In such a large fog, the other party had finally found his target–what was waiting for them?
Ye! It’s getting more and more powerful!
Victor looked at the black box, the instrument in the box issuing a lower shocking sound.
In the next moment, the low sound from the box suddenly broke out, like a sharp friction sound bursting!
Build it with iron bars, iron railings, iron railings…
The low voice continued to issue a command in the fog!
Suddenly, iron grew out from the trees right in front of Ye Qingxuan!
－
In the dense withered trunks, iron branches broke through, like bamboo stems or some kind of proliferation of crystals, crazily split. Quickly, iron railings appeared from out of thin air, cutting off the front.
No creature could cross these thorns. They ground against each other, causing endless sounds of friction.
Those thorns grew quickly and closed like two big hands shooting out from the middle, trying to trap them.
Old Phil did not care about it. It barked to the two behind him, telling them to follow closely, and then sped up to rush into the thorny jungle of death.
It really was a ferocious and vicious dog. It was hard on itself, but even harder on the others. Not only did Old Phil dive straight into the danger, but also let the two teens follow it.
Ye Qingxuan didn’t have time to hesitate and fiercely ran after Old Phil trying to escape, trying to gamble for his life.
As he ran, the thorns scraped against his body. He could feel the coolness of the thorns as they scratched his face, and his heart growing cooler.
Old Phil quickly jumped out of the thorns without any fur falling out. Ye Qingxuan followed Old Phil closely with only a few cuts. The most miserable one was Victor, who jumped out from the thorns and onto the ground with his clothes shred, his pants torn in half which was exceptionally funny in the midst of such a dangerous task.
There was no time to hesitate. Ye Qingxuan pulled Victor, and ran after Old Phil. The fog became so strong that he could scarcely breathe.
The song emerged in the angry atmosphere. The pitch suddenly increased by eight octaves, and the fog began to frantically dance.
Countless hands flashed in the dancing fog there were suddenly. Those illusory hands passed through Old Phil and Victor, going straight for Ye Qingxuan.
Ye Qingxuan was shocked. He used all his strength to fight, but was not able to escape every hand.
These palms did not even exist in essence and were a weak force. One or two felt like the resistance from a gentle breeze, but once Ye Qingxuan’s speed was reduced, more and more palms began to appear.
Suddenly, Ye Qingxuan was overtaken by the palms, tightly grasped by them so that he was unable to move.
Hey, could I be that unlucky?
he muttered to himself confusedly.
Ye!
Victor rushed over to help with his red eyes opened wide. Old Phil was even faster than him, frantically rushing to those hands, wrestling with the invisible palms. But the palms did not care about Old Phil, and continued to move towards Ye Qingxuan.
The palms were like evil spirits, layered on top of him, dragging him into the fog.
Simultaneously, the low voice suddenly became a high pitch.
Among the countless dead trees, iron edges broke out again. Those thorns once again began to grow more. This time they converged with each other, bursting and flowing together towards Ye Qingxuan.
This time it seemed that they wanted to crush him thoroughly!
At that moment, Ye Qingxuan heard the sounds of countless pieces of iron grinding against each other, like the sound of ice cracking. The fog was broken by numerous strikes of lightning, extending toward the front, piercing everything.
Ye Qingxuan struggled with incredible strength, but was pulled into the shackles of the palms, feeling powerless.
At the last moment, he heard a vicious roar, followed by a leaping shadow struggling to bite the invisible palms.
Old Phil!
Ye Qingxuan was stunned as he saw Old Phil’s hind legs wrapped by the thorns. But Old Phil was enraged. Old Phil would rather die than throw in the towel. Blood pooled from its body.
Old Phil! Get out!
Ye Qingxuan shouted. Were those words useful? He suddenly started to get scared.
The old dog was so angry that it did not listen to anything. It bared its teeth, saliva flowing out, eyes turning red. It wanted to protect Ye Qingxuan, to bite those invisible enemies, not caring if it was killed.
Iron branches wrapped around Ye Qingxuan’s neck, making him feel death’s grasp closing tighter and tighter.
Ye Qingxuan struggled to reach out, wanting to get Old Phil away from him, but he could do nothing.
Once again, he was overwhelmed by despair. Like the fear of having nothing at the age of ten, like falling into the snow, struggling with a high fever, like his mother’s last call–the fear of losing something, and the pain of being crushed.
His heart beat so furiously as if it were going to explode. The blood in his body circulated faster, causing the veins in his face to bulge. His blood vessels were about to burst.
All his adrenaline gathered in his chest, like his heart was pumping lava, like it was trying to break free from the shackles and into a forbidden realm…
Then he heard a crisp sound on the back of his hand. It seemed like there was a familiar voice sighing.
He lowered his head in dismay, seeing the silver wire around his finger shine with a bright light. A long bellow from a dragon broke from the finger, tearing apart the white mist.
At his fingertip the white fog was dispersed, pulled by an invisible force into a whirlpool. In the whirlpool the light illuminated the darkness–it was an illusion.
But the illusion seemed so real that he was able to sense the aether once again. The power filled the sky and the earth. It came with the wind, drifting in the mist, rippling from the layers of waves.
In a flash, the illusion disappeared with a sigh.
However, the layers of coiled iron thorns were frozen, as if they were confused and could no longer locate their target. They seemed dazed, not knowing what to do.
The feeling was too short for anyone to think carefully.
Ye Qingxuan only had time to hold Old Phil. He got out of the cage and rolled on the ground pathetically.
It was hard to resist the drowsiness from the darkness. That momentary illusion had sucked all his strength, like he had been hollowed out in an instant, making it difficult to breathe.
Yezi! Yezi!
It seemed like someone was shouting his name and shaking him hard.
Before he lost consciousness, he used his last effort to point in one direction.
From there, go to the church.
Then he fell into darkness.
—
Just half a minute later, a thin figure walked out of the dark, dense forest.
Although it was in the dark of night, he seemed able to identify the terrain and the road without his eyes, completely unimpeded by the darkness.
In the end, he stopped somewhere, looking coldly around at the wreckage. There was nothing in the steel thorns–the thieves had fled.
Rather than becoming enraged, he wondered why the ‘fog magic’ had lost control.
Through the countless steel thorns he stared coldly at the direction that the thieves had fled, but suddenly, he stiffened–the resonance between the instrument and him had disappeared!
He followed the last traces of the residue, finally stopping beside a river. He stared at the riverside, angrily growling.
In the mud along the riverside, there was still a residual smell of the blood.
–
Ten minutes later, at the other end of the town, someone was knocking relentlessly on the back door of the church until the priest finally pushed open the door.
At the door, a teenage boy was soaking wet, carrying his friend on his back with a wet dog next to him. The old dog had a black box filled with water dangling from its mouth. The white-haired boy on the teen’s back was barely breathing.
Yezi is going to die,
Victor said with trembling lips.
Father, please save him. He asked me to come to find a man called Wolf Flute,
Victor said with his purple lips.
Come in,
Bann gestured them in and quickly closed the door.
He took the white-haired teenager from Victor’s back, then rushed in the corridor and violently kicked the door to Wolf Flute’s room.
Behind the door, Wolf Flute who was dangling a pipe from his mouth and reading a novel almost fell out of the bed, stunned to see the Father rushing into his room. He saw in the Father’s arms the teen who had been joking with him during the day.
He was soaking wet and unconscious.
Hey, was he that stubborn?
He looked at the unconscious Ye Qingxuan.
It’s not worth it to jump into a river and commit suicide, even if you can’t become a musician.
Do not talk nonsense.
Father Bann pulled the boy’s shirt open, pointing to his bloody chest.
Sound of heart, heartbeat recovery, save him.
Really terrible.
Wolf Flute looked down at his waist where his wound had finally closed, almost crying out.
At this moment, Wolf Flute profoundly realized what he had done. He had to make up for it.
