Chapter 188: Cold Moon

Chapter 188: Cold Moon

Lily found Bran late at night. Neither he nor the cat reacted to her arrival. Huahua’s amber-like eyes swept over her coldly before returning to stare motionlessly at the snowy ground; Bran didn’t even lift his eyelids.

Lily looked at them, sighed, and explained the situation, but Bran still showed no reaction.

Was trouble brewing? She could only wait. Lily walked helplessly to Bran’s side and sat down, hoping he could solve the problem quickly and not make people wait too long.

When Lily sat down beside him, Bran felt the power inside him stir violently and gradually emerge. Shifting his focus to Lily, he whispered, “Tell me about the origin of those wings.”

Lily softly began recounting the great fire she had set, the light and shadows within the flames, chasing the living like life itself…

As her gentle voice flowed past his ears, Bran gradually relaxed. Since Lily had a similar experience, it probably wasn’t a bad thing. This must be the inevitability of growth—accumulation followed by transformation. Like the facial markings on his face; when they appeared, he couldn’t stop them, nor had he the power to.

When the story ended, seeing Bran completely relaxed, Lily asked curiously, “What happened?”

So, Bran also began to tell the story of that great fire in Sandstone City. As the last butterfly flew from his hand, Bran’s voice carried a trace of panic and excitement: “I discovered the Soul, but I couldn’t find it inside the living. I thought the Soul was a container, but now I found it’s nourishment, feeding some kind of power inside us. You absorbed part of it by intuition, but I pushed them away with doubt.”

Lily interjected, “But what we absorbed doesn’t seem to be the same thing. I absorbed light, but you…”

Bran handed the butterfly in his hand to Lily and prompted, “Try injecting a bit of that so-called light.”

As Mana was injected, the butterfly became vivid as color returned to its form. Then its will began to stir; it fluttered its wings trying to escape, yet instinctively dared not fly too far, and could only dance gracefully around the two siblings.

Watching this butterfly, Bran’s eyes grew brighter. He handed another butterfly to Lily. One after another, vivid butterflies emerged from the siblings’ hands, gradually surrounding them.

Looking at the fluttering butterfly shadows around them, Lily asked, “What is the form of your newborn power? Wings too?”

“No, no form at all.” A patch of Mist formed in Bran’s hand, constantly swirling and shifting.

Seeing this, Lily also stretched out her hand. A pair of small wings landed beside the patch of Mist, slowly opening and closing. “Why is it like this?”

“Abilities and habits. My abilities make me see everything as material. Form isn’t important to me; I just change things as needed.” As he spoke, the Mist in Bran’s hand slowly expanded, wrapping around him. “And this makes me feel safe.”

Accompanied by a sigh, the Mist dissipated and returned to his hand. “We are different, after all. Facing the power of the Soul, you chose light, and I chose shadow.”

A mirror appeared in his hand and was handed to Lily. “When you look at your reflection in the water, you know that’s you. You know who the person in the mirror is, you know your name, and you know everything that name represents.”

“But I don’t know.” Bran raised the mirror before his eyes. “I see only strangeness in the water’s reflection. I don’t know what this name signifies. I don’t know what the Soul beneath this skin looks like. Those people are dead! Their Souls still maintain their living form. If one day I die too, what appears before you will be a completely unfamiliar Soul, a completely unfamiliar person… So, we are different after all.”

Lily slapped her brother’s back heavily. “Going crazy again!”

“No!” Bran grabbed his sister’s hand firmly.

…

Outside the Western Territory, Rio followed the heavily damaged Insect Swarm. The surviving swarm could hardly threaten the pursuing army anymore. A reversal had happened in both numbers and strength. Under the cover of Night, he hoped escape would come by daybreak.

Rio wasn’t worried about those behind him. He was more concerned about the Northlanders, how the Northlanders would treat those of them who had surrendered?

Endless fear filled his heart, for until now he still didn’t know his mistress’s name. What were they considered? Cast among a pile of low-intelligence insects, ignored and unattended. When the master left, at least a command was given to the Insect Swarm. They, however, had no choice but to follow miserably behind the swarm.

Who were they fighting for? What were they fighting for? Merely to survive? If this could be called survival. He hoped the Northlanders would see how fiercely they had fought and let them keep living.

The two pairs of limbs beneath his ribs grew progressively stronger and more powerful amid the daily killing. If he were still among the Demon Clan, he might have been considered elite. The irony, though, was that this growth began with the massacre of his own kind.

He didn’t believe the Demon Clan had any hope of victory anymore, not since he witnessed that ball of light rise outside Silverpine Town. He had tried to send the news back, but his clan would no longer accept him.

He dearly wanted to tell the pursuers behind him: Surrender! At least then you can live!

…

Another large army of the Demon Clan arrived before the Anya People’s defensive lines. The arrival revived the courage of the Demon Clan’s vanguard; they sent soldiers to chop down the Northlanders’ great banner.

Standing atop the city wall, Kurt looked at the opposing army parading around and couldn’t help but show a cold smile. Did they really think they could just cut that banner?

If it were possible, they would have done it themselves long ago. He’d seen Bran; he’d also seen that girl who resembled Bran so closely. Such people were best not to messed with.

Facing that great banner, some among his own forces had also been ready to act impulsively, but Kurt had talked them down. He told them of his own experience, spoke of his cowardice. Just wait a little longer—that was Kurt’s advice.

Did those fools opposite him not know who they’d offended? What kind of existence they had provoked? If that great banner were still standing, those fools might have had a sliver of a chance. Now all Kurt had to do was stand here and enjoy their final revelry before Death.