Chapter 28: You Are My Faith (IX)

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Chapter 28: You Are My Faith (IX)

Although Tylor had imperiously informed Kaiser that Shang Ke would be staying at his residence, Shang Ke ultimately followed Kaiser home in high spirits, completely ignoring the smoky cloud of resentment practically hanging over Tylor’s face.

On the way home, Kaiser looked at the young man beside him. Shang Ke’s features were handsome, his dark eyes rippling like water, and his long black hair cascaded down his back with a silken sheen. Every movement carried a soothing, graceful air. More importantly, he was kindhearted and possessed extraordinary strength of will. When Kaiser thought about it, Tylor falling for him really wasn’t strange at all.

“What’s wrong?” Shang Ke turned his head toward him.

Pupu tilted her head toward him too, her expression asking the same question: What’s wrong?

“N-Nothing.” Kaiser hurriedly looked away. That single glance had made his heartbeat quicken. He had originally intended to ask about Shang Ke’s relationship with Tylor, yet somehow he couldn’t get the question out. But whenever he imagined Shang Ke eventually being together with Tylor, an inexplicable tightness settled in his chest.

In truth, Tylor was suffering from exactly the same tightness. Having watched the person he liked cheerfully leave with another man, there was simply no way he could be in a good mood.

Before either of them could sort out their feelings, the nations across the continent responded one after another to the Holy Empire’s call, agreeing to participate in the operation to seal the Devil’s Tree.

The mission was decided, and the sealing expedition began.

The warriors eagerly made their preparations for the journey into the Abyssal Marsh.

No one truly understood just how dangerous this sealing operation would be. Although Shang Ke couldn’t remember the exact number of participants, he knew that those who ultimately ventured deep into the Abyssal Marsh were almost completely wiped out. Even the forces that entered only the outer regions suffered devastating losses, and most of the survivors were left deeply traumatized. As a result, when the second expedition was organized, the number of participants dropped by a full two-thirds.

That was why Shang Ke had very little confidence in this first expedition. All he could do was gather as many of the warriors who had endured to the end in the original timeline as possible, then use his ability to absorb demonic energy to protect them on the journey into the depths of the abyss.

This time, Tylor joined Kaiser’s party and traveled with them. Shang Ke also specifically asked Tylor to bring two additional people: Captain Max, who had challenged him before, and a horticulturist named Simbi.

They could understand why Shang Ke wanted Max, but a horticulturist? Neither Tylor nor Kaiser could make sense of that choice.

Shang Ke explained, “The power of faith isn’t divided by social status or profession. And sealing the Devil’s Tree requires different forms of faith, so the more varieties we have, the better.”

Even so, did he really have to choose this horticulturist?! It wasn’t that anyone looked down on the profession. The problem was the man himself. Simbi wore a shirt and leather vest on his upper body, a grass skirt around his waist, and woven grass boots on his feet. He looked like some crazed piece of performance art!

With him around, the entire party’s aesthetic suddenly felt wrong!

Still, after Shang Ke argued his case, everyone reluctantly agreed. Their party ultimately consisted of twenty-three people, including Kaiser’s companions Amy, Vidora, Fred, Youri, and Doru. Most of the remaining members were Tylor’s people.

After preparing their equipment, everyone set out together at the appointed time.

Throughout the journey, nearly everyone deliberately kept a little distance from Simbi. Only Shang Ke remained completely unconcerned. This appearance-obsessed bunch had no idea that this eccentric horticulturist would participate in both sealing expeditions, become the first person to reach the center of the Abyssal Marsh, and ultimately be one of only five warriors to return alive.

His faith was Nature. His behavior and sense of style might be a little eccentric, but Shang Ke suspected his mental fortitude was stronger than anyone else’s present. His skin was probably thicker too.

“Shang Ke, this mantis you wove is really nice. Teach me how to make one.” Simbi stared with shining eyes at the little woven mantis Shang Ke had made for Pupu.

“Sure.” Shang Ke smiled and agreed.

Despite having completely different styles, the two of them got along with bizarre ease.

During the day, Tylor merely watched them. At night, however, he would bring Shang Ke and Pupu into his own tent. Every time they made camp, Kaiser deliberately pitched his tent right beside theirs so he could keep an ear on what was happening inside. The moment anything sounded suspicious, he intended to charge in.

Still, with Pupu there, no matter what Tylor might have wanted, he couldn’t actually do anything to Shang Ke.

The first few days passed peacefully without incident. They encountered quite a few other expedition groups along the way. Some were friendly, while others kept to themselves. Everyone maintained a moderate distance from one another as they traveled toward the same destination.

Then, on the evening of the sixth day, less than fifteen kilometers from the edge of the Abyssal Marsh, they discovered corpses scattered across the ground. The peace of the previous days was finally broken.

There were nearly fifty dead. Their deaths were gruesome, and some of the blood had not even fully dried.

“This was probably the work of a group of apostles of the Devil’s Tree,” one of the guards reported after examining the scene. “They were powerful and showed absolutely no mercy.”

Tylor frowned but said nothing more, merely reminding everyone to remain alert.

The groups traveled a few more kilometers before stopping to make camp ahead of nightfall.

That night, everything was silent except for the howling wind.

Tylor, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them and quietly slipped out of the tent. Kaiser, Max, and several others emerged at almost the same time.

They had only just begun to raise the alarm when the camp came under attack.

The clamor woke Shang Ke. He quickly moved to the side of the tent and lifted a narrow flap to peer outside, where Tylor and the others were already locked in fierce combat with a group of attackers.

While Shang Ke was watching intently, a small head suddenly popped up beside him and nearly stuck all the way outside. He immediately dragged Pupu back into his arms and whispered, “Stay right here and don’t run outside, understand?”

Seeing Shang Ke’s serious expression, Pupu immediately put on an equally solemn face and nodded repeatedly before curling up motionlessly in his arms.

Holding Pupu inside the tent, Shang Ke tensely monitored the fighting outside.

With his current body, merely walking a little too far could leave him short of breath. It was better to stay obediently in a corner than rush outside and become another problem for everyone to deal with. With Kaiser’s “protagonist halo” and Tylor’s strength, handling a few dozen lower-ranking apostles shouldn’t be a problem.

“Quincy, over there!” Tylor’s shout suddenly reached Shang Ke’s ears.

Quincy? Shang Ke’s expression changed. Wasn’t that the traitor who would eventually murder Tylor?

Strange. Shang Ke knew everyone in the party, and there definitely wasn’t anyone officially introduced as Quincy.

He lifted the tent flap farther and looked in that direction.

So it was him—Quincus, the captain of Tylor’s personal guard. “Quincy” must have been his nickname.

Fortunately, Shang Ke had discovered this early. Otherwise, he might easily have missed his chance to save Tylor. In the original timeline, the truth behind Tylor’s death remained a mystery to the very end. No one ever learned that the Holy Empire’s second prince—the once-renowned Tylor—had died at the hands of his most trusted friend and personal guard.

Of Light Hymn Academy’s legendary Twin Stars, one met an untimely death while the other fell into darkness. It was an enormous tragedy.

But Shang Ke was here now, and he would never allow that tragedy to happen again.

At that moment, a sharp rrrip sounded. A blade sliced through the tent, its tip passing only a dozen or so centimeters from Shang Ke.

Shang Ke hurriedly retreated several steps with Pupu in his arms. Within seconds, several more slashes tore through the tent.

Shang Ke frowned. The demonic energy inside him surged, light flickering through his eyes as the oppressive aura of a King-level Apostle suddenly erupted from his body.

One of the attackers seemed to notice Shang Ke’s presence and was just about to charge the tent when the sudden pressure nearly sent him sprawling.

Because Shang Ke had absorbed enormous amounts of demonic energy recently, the intimidating aura of a King-level Apostle had not faded. If anything, it had become even more convincing.

The attacker was horrified and retreated several steps, no longer daring to approach the tent.

Tylor and Kaiser had both been preparing to rush to Shang Ke’s aid when they saw the attacker heading for his tent. Instead, the man suddenly performed what looked like some absurd stunt—lunging forward only to bounce backward again as though he had seen something terrifying.

Naturally, Tylor and the others showed no mercy. They took advantage of the opening and sent him straight to hell.

“Shang Ke, are you two all right?” Tylor positioned himself in front of the tent and looked back inside.

“We’re fine.” Shang Ke asked, “How is it outside?”

Tylor surveyed the area. “It’s over.”

All of the attackers had been eliminated, and everyone began cleaning up the battlefield.

Only then did Shang Ke emerge with Pupu in his arms.

Even when confronted with such a bloody scene, Pupu showed no fear. Shang Ke had noticed this long ago. Her intellectual development was below that of an ordinary child, but perhaps for that very reason, she possessed almost no fear of death.

Her world was extremely simple. There were only things she liked and things she disliked; she had little understanding of conventional notions of good and evil.

Before long, representatives from two nearby camps came to speak with Tylor. After exchanging their assessments of the attack, the groups decided to merge. A unified command would make it easier to concentrate their strength against whatever dangers came next.

“Lord Tylor, and this is…?” An athletic female warrior looked toward Shang Ke with obvious interest.

“Osari.” Tylor rested a hand at the small of Shang Ke’s back. It was an ordinary enough gesture, yet somehow it looked unmistakably possessive.

The female warrior was far too oblivious to notice the implication. Instead, she addressed Shang Ke directly. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been preparing your camp’s food these past few days. It smells incredible. Would you mind making some for us from now on too? We’ll pay you.”

“No problem.” Shang Ke smiled. “As long as you don’t mind my cooking.”

“Mind it? Absolutely not!” They had spent the last several days smelling delicious food from someone else’s camp until their own meals became practically impossible to swallow!

The captain of the other group, however, remained visibly wary of Shang Ke, studying him with probing eyes.

The next day, the enlarged group continued onward and entered the territory of the Abyssal Marsh that afternoon. The demonic energy there was far denser than anywhere else. A crushing sense of oppression immediately descended over everyone, leaving nearly every face grim and burdened. Only Shang Ke, Pupu, and the eccentric horticulturist remained completely unchanged.

On their first night within the Abyssal Marsh, almost no one could sleep. Even those who forced themselves to doze off would awaken abruptly from nightmares.

The atmosphere within the expedition grew unbearably tense. Negative emotions came one after another, impossible to completely suppress.

Then a few scattered notes sounded through the darkness. One by one, they linked together like pearls on a string, gradually forming a clear, beautiful melody.

People emerged from their tents one after another and looked toward the source of the music.

A robed man sat cross-legged beside the fire, gently playing a harp. Long black hair spilled straight down over the blanket beneath him. His expression was gentle, firelight reflected in his eyes, while the notes beneath his fingers danced through the silent night. It seemed almost like magic, sweeping away the demonic energy around them. The oppressive emotions weighing on everyone’s hearts eased with it, and before anyone realized it, the heavy atmosphere that had gripped the camp had vanished like smoke.

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