The Black-Robed Figure in the Ruins

Yun Jingheng didn't know how long he had been running, how many alleys he had turned into, or how many walls he had climbed over.

All he knew was that the roars behind him grew farther and farther away, fading into the distance, until they disappeared completely from the city's hustle and bustle.

He crawled into a half-collapsed stone building, climbed through a broken second-floor window, and landed amidst a pile of broken bricks and rotten wood, stirring up a cloud of grayish-white dust.

He didn't go any further in, but instead squatted down in the corner, leaning against the cold stone wall, panting heavily.

My lungs felt like they'd been burned; every breath carried a metallic, rusty smell.

His hands were on his knees, sweat dripped from his forehead, down his nose, and onto the ground, making a small dent in the dusty stone slab.

He closed his eyes, then opened them again.

Outside the window, groups of Mutant wandered the streets in twos and threes.

Their movements were no longer as frantic as they had been at the beginning, but had become slow, mechanical, and aimless.

Some squatted against the wall, hugging their knees, emitting low whimpers that sounded like they were crying or laughing at the same time.

Some paced back and forth on the street, their steps stiff. Every few steps they would stop, tilt their heads as if listening to some sound, and then continue walking.

Others lay beside the corpses, not eating them, but in an almost pious posture, their foreheads pressed against the deceased's chest, motionless.

Yun Jingheng looked at the Mutant, his mind in turmoil.

Why was he the only one who didn't undergo the mutation? Was it because he came from another world, or because his Martial Soul was the moon?

The halo gushed forth from underground, from beneath the palace in the very center of the city; it was dark red, thick, like blood that had been congealed for a long time being reheated into liquid.

That power resonated within his Martial Soul, an almost instinctive and irresistible response, like a child responding to its mother's call, or a wanderer answering the call of his homeland.

Those people, those Mutant, their Martial Soul were also responding, but their bodies couldn't withstand it.

Martial Soul are evolving, expanding, and attempting to return to a more primitive form, but their bodies cannot keep up with this change. As a result, they collapse, mutate, and become a torn existence that exists somewhere between a human and Martial Soul.

As this thought crossed Yun Jingheng's mind, he heard a sound.

It came from behind him, from inside the stone building, from deep within the collapsed ruins.

The sound of the wooden planks being stepped on was very soft and slow, with long intervals between each step, like someone groping forward in the dark, checking the ground beneath their feet before taking each step.

Yun Jingheng did not turn around.

His body reacted before his brain could. His Soul Power surged from his dantian and condensed into the Moonlight Sword in his palm. He gripped it tightly and stood up from the corner.

Facing the mottled stone wall, there was a dark doorway in the wall. Behind the doorway was a staircase. Most of the wooden planks of the staircase had rotted away, and several planks were broken, revealing dark holes underneath.

Someone came up the stairs.

One should not remain sober when all the Mutant have gone mad.

But the Mutant won't step on the planks; they'll charge straight at Mutant, tearing apart anything in their path. They won't proceed cautiously, testing the waters step by step.

Moonlight streamed in through the broken window, illuminating the person.

He wore a long black robe with the hood pulled low, obscuring his face.

The fabric of the robe gleamed with a cold, eerie light under the moonlight, a dark purple tinged with a faint silvery white, exactly like the Black-Robed Figure he had seen in the lobby of the Star Luo City Hotel.

Yun Jingheng's heart sank, his fingers tightened around the sword, and his Soul Power surged forth again, making the Moonlight Sword even brighter.

He did not attack first, but simply held his sword steadily, the silvery light illuminating half of the stone house.

The person stopped on the last step of the stairs.

He did not continue forward, made any aggressive moves, or even release his Martial Soul.

He just stood there, the shadow of his hood obscuring most of his face, revealing only a pale chin and slightly pursed lips.

Then he pulled up his hood.

It was a young face, not much older than him, probably in his early twenties.

He had a thin face, slightly prominent cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in a long time.

My lips are dry, cracked, and peeling. There's a scabbed wound at the corner of my mouth, which extends diagonally down to my jaw.

His hair was dark brown, hanging loosely over his forehead, with a few strands damp with sweat and clinging to his temples.

His eyes were black, a very deep black, like two bottomless wells, the water so still that it was impossible to tell whether it was flowing or stagnant.

His expression was calm, so calm that it didn't seem like he was in a city where everyone was crazy and all the madmen were wandering around. It was more like he was walking down an empty path in a park on an ordinary afternoon and then encountered a stranger.

He didn't speak, but walked up the last step of the stairs, around the scattered broken bricks and rotten wood on the ground, and walked to Yun Jingheng's side. He stopped less than three steps away from him, turned his head, and looked through the broken window at the Mutant wandering in the moonlight outside.

His profile appeared exceptionally pale in the moonlight, almost transparent, with faint blue veins visible beneath his skin.

Yun Jingheng did not sheath his sword.

His hand remained firmly raised, the edge of the sword tip less than a foot from Chen Weitao's neck. With just a slight movement of his hand, he could sever his carotid artery.

But Chen Weitao seemed completely indifferent to the existence of the sword, not even glancing at it. He simply stared quietly out the window at the Mutant, his black eyes showing no fear or sorrow, only a deep, profound weariness.

The two remained silent for a long time.

Yun Jingheng spoke first, his voice slightly hoarse. "Who are you?"

Chen Weitao didn't turn his head; his gaze remained fixed on the wandering figures outside the window. "Chen Weitao."

"Have we seen that train heading to Star Luo City?"

Chen Weitao's lips curved slightly, but it wasn't a smile; it was an expression more complex than a smile, as if he were confirming something, or perhaps sighing over something.

"The Moon Martial Soul's intuition is very accurate. Even if I stand here and do nothing, you can still sense it's me."

He paused, then finally turned his head, his dark eyes meeting Yun Jingheng's pupils. "Just like in the lobby of the Star Luo City Hotel, you could feel him too."

Yun Jingheng's fingers tightened slightly.

Of course he knew who Chen Weitao was referring to as "him"—the one wearing the same black robe, radiating a moonlit aura, the one whose Martial Soul trembled, the one who had silently appeared behind him in the hotel lobby.

"And who is he?"

Chen Weitao did not reply. He shifted his gaze from Yun Jingheng and turned back to the window.

"Why do you think they changed?" His voice was very soft, so soft it was as if he were talking to himself.

Yun Jingheng frowned.

He didn't sheathe his Moonlight Sword, but he also didn't urge Chen Weitao to answer his question, because he was thinking about the same thing.

Why was he the only one who didn't undergo the mutation? Was it because he came from another world, or because his Martial Soul was the moon?

Or was it because that dark red halo was summoning him, and those Mutant were merely victims caught in the crossfire, unable to withstand the pressure, and torn apart?

Chen Weitao seemed to understand his thoughts from his silence.

You guessed pretty much right.

His voice was still soft, but there was something deep and heavy in his tone, like an echo coming from a very distant place.

"The rift you crashed into is Moon Domain rift."

"This space is called the Moon Domain. That pillar of light... it was indeed triggered because of you. The energy fluctuations were extremely strong, so strong that they overflowed and enveloped the entire city."

"Those people's Martial Soul couldn't withstand this summoning, so they mutated."

Why didn't I have it?

Chen Weitao turned to look at him. "The moon won't go crazy because of the moon."