Chapter 66 | Negotiation But Not Really
Team 001 materialized atop a rugged ridge, overlooking a battlefield blanketed in mist. Below, a sprawling encampment expanded within a jagged chasm—a wound in the earth pulsating with sinister qi. Demon troops marched in disciplined lines, their silhouettes stark against smouldering terrain.
Finn immediately paled. "Mister Esteemed Azure Dragon," he whispered, "when you said you'd teleport us 'close,' I envisioned something like a forest, preferably a gentle meadow that'll lead us to our destination—not the literal gates of the abyss."
Quine Long's robes fluttered in the sulfur-stained breeze. "Consider it an educational field trip." He sounded delighted.
Eathan edged to the drop-off, squinting through the haze. Wooden towers ringed the chasm's rim; inside, barracks clung to walls, bridged by chainwalks that bristled with spear-tips. Columns of demons marched in crisp squares—no mindless horde, but a disciplined army.
Willow scanned the slope for a safe descent. "Steep, but doable if we—"
Finn hissed, gripping her sleeve with one hand while pointing with the other. "Wait. Look."
All eyes turned instinctively downward, following Finn's shaky finger.
Two figures stood on a stone outcrop halfway down the opposite wall, where the smoke thinned to a blood-coloured dusk. One wore layered silks in the shade of fresh wounds—a sable mantle draped from his pauldrons, which were sculpted like dragon wings. Though hornless, his midnight hair was bound by a jade crown, and his bearing was all regality.
Demon Prince Cang.
His face, sharp-featured yet noble, reflected a particular authority—far from the monstrous image Eathan's imagination had conjured.
"Well, that just simplified us the entire search," said Willow. "Cang's right there."
Chewie stared at the pair. "Unfortunately, so is the bigger problem."
Facing the Demon Prince stood the unmistakable form of Bai Hu, dressed in pristine white and sleeves drifting in the heat-shimmer. Spatters of dried crimson patterned the cloth like falling leaves. He was motionless—too still, Eathan thought, like a statue carved to hold catastrophe.
Team 001 ducked quickly behind a spine of rock. Below, qi warped the air, distorting torchlight into trembling halos.
The Demon Prince's voice broke through clearly, a rich tenor edged in diplomacy. "White Tiger, you've sat idle upon your heavenly perch for a full year, silently observing. It led me to believe you had no intention of intervening."
He spread a gauntleted hand toward the chasm.
"This island's veins are a cradle my people can tend—a cradle designed by fate itself. Mortals squander its resources without understanding, cultivators selfishly monopolize it. But under my care, it could flourish infinitely. Why interfere now?"
Bai Hu said nothing. The silence stretched, oppressive, until even daylight itself seemed to dim.
Eathan felt it—the same gravity that had pinned him mere hours ago. And now, his stillness exerted the same kind of pressure, compelling the demon prince to press onward.
"If you wished to stop us, you could have long ago. Instead, you spectate while we bled mortals and sacrificed our own," Cang's voice tightened subtly, irritation bleeding through. "I must have clarity, Bai Hu. What are you—enemy or observer? Your silence is a burden I refuse to bear."
Still nothing.
Bai Hu's presence rolled outward, pressure without motion. Hidden above, Eathan watched uneasily, his pulse rocking against his ribs. Beside him, Finn wiped sweat from his brow, though the air was more than frigid.
At last, the White Tiger spoke. "Clarify your purpose—not mine. Justify your existence— not mine. You speak because your conscience demands it. Mine does not. It only demands equilibrium."
"The War Council gains nothing by slaughtering all here," Cang said, almost sighing. "Equilibrium is within grasp if you simply withhold your judgement. It can be achieved without your verdict."
"If equilibrium was within grasp, it should have been seized two centuries ago," Bai Hu's response was ice-calm. "Yet you failed. Equilibrium through weakness invites rot and chaos. Which now leaves judgement."
The tension thickened, qi sparking in the narrow space between them. Dust spiralled upward, caught between the opposing auras.
From the ridge, Team 001 braced, hearts hammering.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Finn's knuckles whitened on the ridge-edge. "Is… is this the famous line moment?"
Eathan blinked at him. "What line?"
Chewie's crimson gaze stayed locked on the two titans below. She pitched her voice a register lower, forging into a flawless deadpan imitation of divine contempt:
"If you creatures insist on fighting endlessly over this pathetic piece of dirt, I'll spare you the trouble—by simply removing its existence."
Eathan's stomach sank. "That—doesn't sound like a figure of speech."
She flicked a glance sideways. "That quote is carved into history tablets everywhere from the heavenly archives to demon taverns. Bai Hu spoke it ten breaths before he sank this island. Everyone with a pulse—or an afterlife plan—knows it."
Eathan's heart tripped over itself. Ten breaths. Maybe minutes. Maybe seconds. What if the Games' three-day timer was a red herring? He was never taught the history of the Southeastern Ridges as a mortal college CS kid, but if canon history said the White Tiger erased the island tonight, they might as well be watching the countdown to ground zero.
He looked up at the shimmering numbers above them, which suddenly felt like cheap window-dressing. Especially now that someone had hacked the rules.
"Uh," he said, licking dry lips. "Do we run? Intervene? Hide?"
"Any plan without 'vaporised' in the outcome works for me," Finn muttered.
They never got the chance to pick. A rasp of steel behind them—half a dozen demon sentries crested the ridge, with horned helms and barbed glaives raised.
"Who's there?!"
Six heads turned upward—Team 001 and, five hundred meters below, Bai Hu. The White Tiger's gaze was a falling guillotine.
A single, fractional flick of his fingers.
The ridge exploded.
Stone vaporised into white shards. The blast-front thunder-punched every rib. Willow's reflex shield flared jade-green, cracked, then shattered like glass. Shockwaves hurled them skyward; the world spun in a blur of smoke, ash, and screaming gust.
Finn shrieked something unprintable as Willow yanked him sideways, barreling through the smoke. "Move, move, move!"
Eathan pin-wheeled through dust. A divine mortar roared past his shoulder, carving a canyon through the cliffside. [Calamity Radar] screamed warnings in molten text:
[Calamity Radar β]
Status: Auto-online
WARNING! LETHAL VELOCITY! DIVINE PROJECTILE—1.2 SEC
He twisted, palms slapping together—[Minor Reconstruction] flashed gold, forging a cushion of hardened air that broke his landing.
[Minor Reconstruction (Lv.2)] has been activated!
3 Qi Tokens have been subtracted from your [PROFILE]! (263 → 260)
Eathan slid across scree, lungs raw. His core lurched—golden sparks flashed behind his eyes, horn-shadows licking the ground. Then they were gone, leaving only ringing silence in his skull. Finn hit the slope a heartbeat later, saved by Willow barrel-tackling him behind a half-melted boulder. Another beam of condensed qi sheared the rock into slag.
"Move, bread-stick!"
Finn winced. "I'm moving, I'm moving—and screaming internally!"
Overhead, Chewie became a comet. She rebounded off an airborne chunk of cliff, flipped, and fired herself straight at the Pale Judgement—body wreathed in bloody light for round two. Her eyes glowed like twin eclipses; behind her, phantom banners of the ancient Chi-You Legion fluttered, trailing ember runes.
Bai Hu didn't bother turning. A backhand gesture formed a crescent of silver force. It intercepted Chewie mid-lunge, detonating around her in a shock-bubble. She ricocheted into a stone pillar, cratered it, slid out—snarling, hair singed.
"Again!" She groaned, coughing smoke.
Quine Long strolled through falling debris as if it were cherry-blossom confetti. A demon spear stabbed for his spine; he tilted one centimeter and let momentum yank the attacker past. Flick of two fingers—azure glyphs blossomed, and the glaive melted into blue mist.
"Enjoying the field trip?" He murmured to Eathan, who was sprinting beside him.
Eathan wheezed in response, "Could you quit spectating my near-death experience?"
"Glad you noticed." The dragon smiled, redirecting a blast with a lazy palm flick.
A fresh barrage of fire ripped across the battlefield—white spears riding the roars of thunder. Finn and Willow dove together; a bolt of lightning grazed right at the former's right eye.
"Finn!" Willow shouted.
Then, something inside Finn's right eye un-clicked.
His purple iris flared under the soot, a matching coloured pattern trailing all over his eyeball. Circles of talisman script spun all around him, then expanded outward—folding around Team 001 like liquid glass. Sound dimmed; light bent over them. Bai Hu's next salvo hammered the hillside—but to the White Tiger, it looked as though his quarry had vanished into thin air.
"What the..." Finn stared at his hands, the translucent dome shimmering. "Did I just turn on stealth mode?"
From under a chunk of rubble, Chewie's voice drifted, utterly dry: "Finally! Now the dragon is replaceable."
As the group slipped away unnoticed from the battlefield, Demon Prince Cang shielded his face from the dust cyclone on the lower ledge.
"That was… the Azure Dragon? With mortals?" His mantle whipped around him as he searched the ridge. "Bai Hu, are we pulling spectators out of the clouds now?"
But Bai Hu was not listening. He scanned the ridge, annoyance flickering across his face. The wind stilled—as if the island itself held its breath.
And then he vanished. A streak of white and red, faster than thought, leaving only a ringing vacuum.
"…"
Cang's ornate helm tilted back to empty air. For a second, it was just him and his army of demons, just as confused as he was.
"…Typical," he snarled, cape snapping. "So very typical of the Pale Judgement. Discuss equilibrium, get abandonment."
He drew a breath laden with brimstone and fury, letting his own aura rise like a crimson tide. "Very well. I'll claim the cradle while you chase ghosts."
Far above, behind the camouflaging veil, Team 001 huddled in the hush of Finn's newly formed barrier. Eathan's pulse hammered in his ears.
"Good news," Willow whispered, wiping blood from her lip. "He lost us."
"Bad news," Finn added, voice wobbly, "my eye feels like it's boiling battery acid, and I have no clue how long this cloak lasts."
Chewie cracked her knuckles, eyes glittering. "Long enough to start plan 'Convince the Demon Prince Not To Die.' Everybody ready for diplomacy—again?"
"Round two." Quine Long's laugh curled like smoke. "Try to keep your heads attached this time."