Descent into Darkness, Echoes in the Hall

All worldly distractions seemed to recede, fading into oblivion. As the surrounding sights, light, and sounds gradually vanished, his senses grew dull. Not until that last, faint glimmer of hope dwindled into nothingness did Bai Chen finally plunge into absolute darkness and profound silence.

“Cough, cough, cough…!”

When he next opened his eyes, the world was still the same impenetrable black he had fallen into. The silence was terrifying. Bai Chen slowly fumbled his way up, his hands brushing against cold, rod-like objects. He didn’t need to guess; these were undoubtedly the stark, skeletal remains of decayed corpses. In such a desolate place, not even the eerie glow of will-o’-the-wisps could be found.

Though he knew he couldn’t see a thing, Bai Chen kept his eyes wide open, as if the very act might soothe his frayed nerves, as if it could conjure a sliver of security in the overwhelming void.

In the vast, empty hall, save for the ancient, anonymous bones strewn about, Bai Chen was utterly alone. With every step he took, his heavy footsteps, punctuated by the crisp, unsettling crunch of his boots against the skeletal remains, reverberated ceaselessly through the cavernous space.

Bai Qiao had paced her room countless times. It must be nearing seven o’clock now. In previous days, Bai Chen would have long since returned, yet today, there wasn’t even a hint of his impending arrival.

Bai Qiao maintained that she didn’t harbor the romantic feelings Bai Chen so clearly desired. Yet, despite this, she considered him her sole kin in this bewildering place. While her worry wasn’t the fervent anxiety of a lover, a profound unease gnawed at her.

Without Bai Chen’s constant presence, his incessant chatter, Bai Qiao found herself surprisingly unaccustomed to the silence—the absence of the very voice she had always considered so utterly annoying.

Sitting alone on the edge of the bed, her mind relentlessly replayed the events of the past few days. It cycled through everything until it landed on the day of Bai Chen’s martial arts competition. His Majesty’s reaction then had been anything but normal. Bai Chen was his most capable assistant; it was unthinkable for him to target Bai Chen in such a way—unless His Majesty no longer trusted him. If that were the case, everything would suddenly make sense. And if a ruler ceased to trust, elimination was the natural course of action, a path every monarch throughout history had taken.

Today marked the final day of the competition. Therefore, if they intended to eliminate him, it would undoubtedly happen today. This meant Bai Chen… was surely in grave danger.

At this realization, Bai Qiao didn’t hesitate. She spun around and sprinted towards the Grand Hall. ‘That idiot!’ she thought, ‘If it weren’t for the fact that he’s… one of us, I wouldn’t bother searching for him!’

****

Bai Chen continued to advance slowly, pacing through the darkness. Deprived of sight, he could only rely on his inner energy to probe his surroundings and the path ahead. This was an arduous task, draining both his spiritual and physical reserves. Yet, he knew that remaining stagnant in such oppressive silence would, sooner or later, shatter his will.

‘Truly worthy of His Majesty. This method—to have me perish down here, silently.’ He felt his consciousness slowly unraveling, dissipating bit by bit. If this continued, it would surely lead to the complete scattering of his soul. Realizing the gravity of his situation, Bai Chen didn’t hesitate, striking his own forehead with a sharp, forceful slap. A wave of profound dizziness instantly overwhelmed him, and he collapsed to the ground. Better to lose consciousness now than to allow his very essence to unravel; he could only hope to recover upon waking.

“Ugh!”

Rubbing his forehead, he winced. That self-inflicted blow had been quite potent; even now, after an unknown passage of time, a throbbing pain and lingering dizziness plagued his head.

“You’re awake?”

The sudden voice above him instantly sharpened Bai Chen’s senses. Only then did he realize that his head wasn’t resting on the cold, hard floor, but rather on Qing’s warm thigh. He jolted, sitting upright with a sudden start, his eyes fixed on the impenetrable darkness before him. Bai Chen knew Qing was there.

“You…”

“You’re truly merciless with yourself. Did you know that if I had arrived a moment later, the Black King would have killed you?”

“Hm? What? The Black King?”

Bai Chen, who had been so preoccupied with the astonishing fact of waking on Qing’s lap, only now sensed the faint, lingering presence of the Black King’s inner energy nearby. Yet, the aura was incredibly weak. His expression instantly shifted.

“You killed him?”

“Indeed,” Qing replied, shrugging indifferently. “He had succumbed to the influence of this environment, reduced to nothing more than a living corpse—a monster driven purely by primal instinct, utterly devoid of his own consciousness.”

“…Why… why would he do this?”

“What’s wrong? Finding it intolerable?” Qing observed the shift in Bai Chen’s emotions, a flicker of satisfaction igniting within him. “The truth is, if you wished, you could simply cease to endure.”

At his words, Bai Chen’s eyes sharpened, growing piercing. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“The White King is exceptionally astute; surely, you understand my meaning without me having to spell it out?” Qing countered, a hint of challenge in his tone.

Bai Chen remained silent for a long moment before finally speaking, his voice measured. “I will not help you. After all, this is an act of rebellion, isn’t it?”

A flicker of amusement, almost mockery, danced in Qing’s eyes. ‘Indeed, this is the White King I expected,’ he mused inwardly. ‘But you will ultimately fall under my command, no matter the means—even by force, if necessary.’ Of course, Bai Chen did not see that particular glint in his eye, or a battle would surely have erupted on the spot.

“Thud-thud-thud~~~

The profound silence of the hall was suddenly broken by the distinct sound of footsteps, echoing from a distance and growing steadily closer. It was a chilling sound, raising goosebumps on Bai Chen’s arms. He had no idea what was approaching from the unseen depths of the darkness, only that he waited in tense silence for the footsteps to draw near enough for him to sense it.

Bai Chen’s expression instantly blanched. This aura… a familiar aura. The Red King? He could discern the chaotic, disturbed energy solely from its presence. This was not the dignified aura befitting a king; it was utterly tumultuous, a bloodthirsty miasma. Surely, his consciousness must be fractured.

“Thud-thud-thud~~~

Behind him! Bai Chen involuntarily rose to his feet, forcibly suppressing the disquiet swirling in his mind. The one approaching from behind was likely the Purple King. Though not as utterly fallen as the Red King, he too possessed little to no consciousness remaining.

Involuntarily, Bai Chen found himself standing back-to-back with Qing, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, trembling uncontrollably.

“Swish!”

Bai Qiao stood frozen at the entrance, gazing blankly into the empty hall. It was so quiet, so profoundly tranquil, as if no competition had ever taken place there. It felt like a place long abandoned, yet everything appeared strangely pristine, utterly… magnificent.

“Tap!”

The sovereign, who rightfully belonged on the grand throne above, appeared silently behind Bai Qiao. He watched her slightly anxious back, a faint smile subtly curving his lips, and slowly, he leaned closer from behind.

****