Chapter 76: We Are All Kindred Spirits with Death
“You rascal!”
Mr. Silver’s tone turned frantic.
His fluffy white tail swayed dangerously, itching to leap onto Rast and unleash a flurry of cat punches.
However, considering Rast’s injuries were still healing, Mr. Silver ultimately held back this impulse.
But at that very moment.
Rast heard the light footsteps approaching him, then stopping right in front of him.
“You…”
“Heard it?”
That voice, reminiscent of the snowy mountains, sounded again, coming from mere inches away.
“Mm.”
Rast calmly nodded.
At this moment, there was no escaping the truth; it was better to honestly admit it.
Moreover—
To be frank, he was somewhat interested in Akshia, the current strongest at the Stellar Obelisk, ranked first.
Or more accurately, he was intrigued by the “Death’s Messenger,” this Night Blade.
Though information about Akshia, the academy’s number one, was scarce, there was enough from existing data to make a rough judgment.
Among the many Night Travelers’ Night Blades, Akshia’s “Death’s Messenger” was likely on par with Hiltina’s “Infinite Sword,” belonging to the highest caliber of existence.
Furthermore, compared to the “Infinite Sword,” which emphasized steady and incremental growth requiring long-term accumulation and training to increase strength, the “Death’s Messenger” would undoubtedly be more dangerous, less controllable, but also more violent.
Currently, Rast’s panel was quite luxurious in both the mysterious and mental aspects.
However, he was still lacking in the field of direct combat.
In contrast to Hiltina’s straightforward execution of true name liberation, washing the area clean with light cannons… that kind of raw, simple violence.
Rast’s offensive capabilities, whether through the Moon of Iron Patterns revolver or the Sevenfold Domain’s long-range sniper rifle, were ultimately still limited to the category of firearms.
Although he had experienced two Night Worlds so far with Hiltina as a companion, masking Rast’s shortcomings in this regard, he knew very well that he and Hiltina couldn’t team up every time… even if they truly entered together, they would inevitably face situations where they had to split up due to leftover echoes.
Of course, marksmanship was a skill that Rast had honed over three hundred years; he had no intention of giving it up.
However, ordinary physical bullets had their limitations… and the previous method of refining ammunition using all things as weapons was effective but also too taxing on the eyes, especially now that the effect of the Night World retrospective significantly diminished for Rast; he couldn’t use it as a standard method.
Thus, if he could use the Library of Fools to acquire Akshia’s “Death’s Messenger” Night Blade and then incorporate the rumored “Death Knell” Word Spirit into the sniper rifle’s bullets…
Whoever he aimed at would die instantly, whoever he targeted would collapse…
Just thinking about such a skill combination filled him with anticipation.
“That old man said.”
“As the first, the strongest, the leader.”
“I must set a perfect example for my juniors.”
Rast’s ears rang again with that cold voice.
Perhaps due to the Night Blade’s influence preventing normal conversation, they could only occasionally communicate through mental dialogue, lacking practice…
Akshia’s way of speaking was not fluent; her sentences were incomplete and extremely concise, omitting many unnecessary details.
“Since you heard it—”
“Then…”
“Kill.”
Which good-natured Student Council President would directly kill someone to silence them just because they were overheard eating ten hamburgers?
As this sarcastic thought arose.
In the next moment.
Rast felt the air around him stagnate.
This was not the spiritual space created by “Whispers Under the Moon” for mental dialogue, but the real world.
A clear voice echoed in the still air.
It was a girl speaking, using the language of the former era.
The syllable sounded remarkably like the way Hiltina pronounced her true name; although it was merely a term from an ancient language, under the influence of the Night Blade, it directly tugged at the laws of the world’s roots.
The meaning of that word was: “Death.”
He felt the air surrounding him gradually cool down; a chill enveloped his body.
Rast knew what this feeling meant; it was the temperature of the God of Death wrapping around him.
In the three hundred years of the Deep Blue Harbor cycle, every time he neared death, before starting a new cycle, Rast had experienced the same sensation.
For ordinary people, this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but for him, it had long since become customary.
A fraction of a second later.
The decree of death was issued to every cell in Rast’s body, even to the depths of his soul.
That burning sensation, like a bone-deep affliction gnawing at his flesh, vanished.
Even the darkness in his vision dissipated, and light reentered his eyes.
Rast tried to open his eyes and found that his vision had returned.
What came into view was the unfamiliar ceiling of the infirmary.
Countless strands of small black flames quietly extinguished in the air around his torso and limbs, dissipating into the void.
Rast moved his body and felt his condition was unprecedentedly good.
The so-called collaboration between the Student Council President and Mr. Silver to kill and silence him was, of course, just a joke.
From what had just transpired, it seemed that Akshia had used the Word Spirit of “Death’s Messenger” to directly “kill” the black flame curse left by the Zhuyue pollutant on him.
However—
The “Death’s Messenger” not only exterminated living beings but could also obliterate abstract concepts like curses.
If Akshia herself were to ascend to legend, wouldn’t that mean she could “kill anything alive, even gods”?
Following Hiltina’s Night Blade “Infinite Martial Refinement” being stacked to a hundred thousand layers to blast the Evil God, it seemed a new potential death method had emerged for the Evil God.
A Night Blade that couldn’t slay gods was not a good Night Blade… who knew when it started, the high and mighty Evil God had completely become Rast’s fixed target for measuring the potential of Night Blades.
Of course, slaying gods was still a distant dream for him.
But regardless, the notion of a concept-based Night Blade that could directly interfere with rules was undoubtedly powerful.
As a qualified strength enthusiast, Rast considered it highly necessary to acquire the Library of Fools.
“Anyway, thank you very much for your treatment, President Akshia.”
Rast looked at Akshia beside the hospital bed and expressed his sincere gratitude.
Before him.
This girl with ice-blue, shoulder-length hair tilted her head slightly as she gazed at Rast, who had just awakened and thanked her.
The ice-blue strands fell from her slender shoulders, and a hint of barely perceptible confusion flashed in her purple eyes.
“Kindred spirits?”
The cold voice resonated again in Rast’s heart.
“What kind of kindred spirits?”
Rast realized that even with the mental dialogue ability of “Whispers Under the Moon,” communicating with the academy’s top Student Council President was not an easy task.
Due to her lack of experience conversing with ordinary people, Akshia’s sentences seemed like fill-in-the-blanks, consisting only of a few short keywords, often requiring him to guess at her true meaning.
“You and I.”
Akshia extended her pale, slender finger to silently point at Rast, then expressionlessly pointed at herself.
“Kindred spirits.”
“Have seen, have experienced, many deaths.”
“Walking with the God of Death…”
“Kindred spirits.”
Akshia continued to tilt her head, observing him for a moment, her purple eyes filled with a hint of puzzlement.
After a long while, she seemed to find nothing of note and withdrew her gaze from Rast.
Akshia expressionlessly stood up and walked toward the door of the hospital room.
As she passed the bedside table, she glanced over at Mr. Silver squatting on the table, silently nibbling on a fish snack, and her cold voice resonated again in the mental world.
“Cat.”
“The promised reward.”
“Don’t steal.”
Having said all this, Akshia gently swayed her ice-blue long hair and disappeared through the door of the hospital room.
Leaving behind a certain disillusioned Mr. Silver atop the bedside table.
“I already said I’m a silver weasel, not a cat.”
“And who eats junk food like Big Mac hamburgers? Weasels only eat fish, okay?”
…………
PS: There’s another update coming.
(End of Chapter)
