A Child Should Act Like a Child [Revised]

He raised the Scythe of Death, and the second black spirit ring lit up with a dim, somber glow.

That radiance was starkly different from the purple of the first spirit ring; it was as deep as an abyss, as if it could swallow light itself.

"Second Spirit Skill, Dark Scale Breath-Severing Slash."

The scythe blade swept through the air.

A pitch-black slash tore through the atmosphere, and wherever it passed, the Shadow Tide melted away like snow under a scorching sun.

It did not just sever; it did not just disperse.

It corroded.

The origin power of the ten-thousand-year Dark Scale Flood Dragon transformed into the darkness of the abyss, eroding every shred of spirit power contained within those Shadow Tentacles until nothing remained. Even more terrifying was that the corrosive force surged backward along the connection of spirit power, striking directly at the main body of Ya Jiu!

Ya Jiu's expression changed drastically.

He felt the spirit power he had released being devoured at a terrifying speed, as if an invisible maw were gnawing at his meridians.

"Oh no!"

He tried to retreat, but it was already too late.

The pitch-black slash broke through the Shadow Tide, like a scythe swung by the Grim Reaper himself, bearing down straight toward his face!

Ya Jiu's pupils constricted as he watched death approach.

Yet, three inches from his brow, it came to an abrupt halt.

Qian Anci retracted the scythe and stood tall.

The gray, deathly aura receded like a tide, and the pitch-black slash dissipated into a wisp of black smoke in the air, as if it had never existed.

"You concede."

His voice remained calm, as if the sparring match just now had been nothing more than a routine drill.

Ya Jiu froze in place, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

He knew he had lost.

He had lost completely and utterly.

The opponent had only used one strike.

No, two moves.

The first spirit skill forced him out of hiding, and the second spirit skill crushed him head-on.

Had Qian Anci not held back, he would be nothing more than a mangled corpse eroded and devoured by the abyss at this very moment.

And the opponent was merely a six-year-old child.

On the sidelines, a sharp glint flickered in the deep eyes of Ya Yi.

The other eleven were struck with mutual horror.

Ya Liu swallowed hard and muttered, "Is... is this the power of a ten-thousand-year second spirit ring?"

Qian Anci paid no mind to their shock.

He put away the Scythe of Death, walked toward Ya Jiu, and extended a hand.

"Thank you for the guidance."

Ya Jiu stared blankly at that small, youthful hand, only reacting a moment later to grasp it.

"Your Highness is too kind to this lowly one."

He kept his head bowed, his voice hoarse and carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling.

It was not fear.

It was awe.

Qian Anci pulled him up and turned to look at Ya Yi.

"Ya Yi."

"This subordinate is here."

"Starting tomorrow, rotate one person each day to spar with me."

Ya Yi lowered his gaze, his gaunt face revealing no emotion, though his right hand, hidden within his sleeve, slowly tightened around his token.

"...This subordinate obeys."

When Qian Anci left the training grounds, the setting sun was staining the dome of Martial Soul City the color of blood.

He walked through the corridor and stopped at a corner.

A golden figure leaned against a pillar; her white dress was spotless, and her golden hair burned like flames in the twilight.

"You won?"

Qian Renxue did not turn around, her voice indifferent, as if she were asking a casual question.

"Pure luck."

Qian Anci walked to her side, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her as they gazed at the distant sunset glow.

Qian Renxue tilted her head to look at him, her golden eyes reflecting the setting sun and his plain white figure.

"Ya Jiu is the weakest of the twelve, but he is also the most troublesome." She paused, a faint blush creeping up the tips of her ears beneath her golden hair. "His Shadow Evasion has even caused Soul Saints to suffer losses."

Qian Anci glanced sideways: "Is Sister worried about me?"

"Who is worried about you?"

Qian Renxue turned her face away, looking into the distance, her voice deliberately cold.

"I am just... afraid that if you lose, you will disappoint Grandfather."

She paused, then added: "By the way, are you free tomorrow? Accompany me for a walk in Martial Soul City. In a few days, it will be Mother's birthday, and I want to pick out a few gifts for her."

Qian Anci's gaze flickered.

Mother.

When that word left Qian Renxue's lips, it carried a softness he had never heard before.

It was like someone carefully cupping a flame in the dead of winter, knowing it would scorch their palms, yet unable to let go.

He recalled the scene in the great hall today, and the pair of dead, stagnant eyes belonging to Bibi Dong.

There was no warmth in them, no light, only boundless hatred.

Yet at this moment, Qian Renxue was looking toward the Pope's Palace, her golden eyes filled with anticipation.

She was still fantasizing.

Fantasizing that the woman who had never held her would one day, in the early morning, suddenly smile at her.

Qian Anci was silent for a moment.

"Alright."

He heard his own voice, calm as usual.

Qian Renxue turned her head, a flash of brightness in her golden eyes, before she quickly looked away again.

"Don't misunderstand, I just... I just need someone to carry things."

"Mm."

"And don't you dare tell Grandfather!"

"Mm."

Qian Renxue seemed to want to say something more, but in the end, she only pursed her lips, crossed her arms, and leaned against the corridor pillar, watching the fading sunset glow with him.

The setting sun stretched their two shadows long.

One white, one gold, they intertwined on the bluestone floor like a tranquil painting.

In the distance, the lingering echoes of the Seventy-Two Bell Towers drifted away.

Qian Anci gazed at the blood-colored dome, the gray light in his eyes settling like an abyss.

"She is still waiting for an answer that will never come."

Castorice's voice echoed in his heart.

"Are you going to tell her?"

Qian Anci did not answer.

He simply stood there quietly, letting the twilight dye his plain white robes in warm hues.

Tell Qian Renxue what?

Tell her that her mother was sinking into the shadows of the Rakshasa God?

Tell her that the maternal love she craved had been devoured by hatred many years ago?

Tell her that one day, even her father would perish at his hands?

No.

At least, not now.

He glanced sideways at the figure pretending to admire the scenery.

"Sister."

"Hm?"

"The gifts... I will help you pick them."

Qian Renxue froze for a moment, then gave a light huff: "Who needs your help... but if you dare pick something ugly, I will..."

"Tell Grandfather that I bullied you?"

"You!"

Qian Renxue turned her head sharply, her golden eyes glaring at him, but she paused for a heartbeat when she caught the faint smile at the corners of his lips.

That smile was faint, like mist about to dissipate in the twilight.

Yet, it made her swallow the words that had reached her lips.

"...I'm leaving."

She turned her face away, the corner of her white skirt lifting in the evening breeze, and walked quickly towards the end of the long corridor.

"Tomorrow morning, no being late!"

Qian Anci stood in place, watching the golden figure disappear around the corner, the smile in his eyes slowly fading.

"Grandpa, stop hiding, Sister has already left."

He suddenly spoke, looking calmly towards the corner.

A moment later, Qian Daoliu emerged from the corner, a look of helplessness on his face.

"You brat, your senses are quite sharp."

Qian Daoliu walked to his side, hands clasped behind his back.

Gazing in the direction Qian Renxue had left, a hint of imperceptible tenderness flickered in his eyes.

"Xue'er... ever since she was young, she's longed to be closer to her mother."

He paused, his voice lowering: "Unfortunately, that knot in Bibi Dong's heart cannot be untied with a few gifts."

Qian Anci lowered his gaze: "Your grandson understands."

Qian Daoliu turned his head to look at him, a sharp glint in his eyes, and placed his hand on his shoulder with a steady force.

"Xue'er is hard on the outside but soft on the inside. She seems proud, but in reality, she's lonely."

He withdrew his hand, his grey robe fluttering in the night wind: "Since she acknowledges you as her brother, spend more time with her."

"This Martial Soul City is vast, yet there are few people here with whom one can speak their true feelings."

Qian Anci looked up, meeting Qian Daoliu's golden eyes that seemed to see through everything.

"Your grandson obeys."

Qian Daoliu nodded slightly and turned to leave, but then stopped.

"Right, accompany her out for a walk tomorrow."

He turned his head.

"You all, children should act like children!"

"Don't think about it so much. If the sky falls, we taller ones will hold it up."

As his voice faded, his grey robe flashed, and his figure disappeared into the twilight.

After a long while, Qian Anci let out a soft sigh. Yes, if the sky falls, the taller ones will hold it up.

"Castorice."

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow... what kind of gift should I pick?"

Castorice's voice carried a hint of lazy laughter: "You're asking me? I don't even know Bibi Dong."