Chapter 40: Rain Night, Dialogue

With the fading of the False God’s projection came the collapse of the void rift; the aperture that had ceaselessly spewed forth void energy was corrected and sealed by the material world.

The False God, stranded in the void, roared in fury, yet it was to no avail.

Though the False Gods possess immense power, they are bound by a corresponding limitation: in a material world devoid of void energy, they are rendered incapable of interfering with reality.

"I will remember—" The words of the Lord of Immortality did not even fully emerge from the rift before the entire fissure disintegrated, dissolving into the fabric of space.

The girl’s eyes remained wide with terror, her mind yet to process the events that had just transpired. However, as she watched every trace of the False God vanish into nothingness, an indescribable exhaustion washed over her.

The depletion of her mental faculties, the draining of her mana, and the combined toll on her spirit and body left her profoundly weary.

Her eyelids felt heavy, as if weighted by sandbags; her muscles ached with a piercing intensity, and the exhaustion she had forcibly suppressed through sheer urgency now surfaced, unbridled, in the wake of her relief.

Kneeling on the ground, Avia’s upper body began to sway, her consciousness blurring. Then, a pair of hands caught her, and a voice—slightly raspy yet as calm as ever—sounded beside her ear.

"It is not yet time to rest. Hold on a little longer; I will take you somewhere safe."

"Who knows if Decathlon has hidden others, or if the commotion here has alerted outsiders. It is not safe."

Wang Yu lifted the girl once more and hoisted her onto his back.

"Mm-hmm." On Wang Yu’s back, Avia’s consciousness began to drift, and she let out a hazy murmur.

Yet, upon realizing it was Wang Yu, she rested her head against his shoulder with a sense of peace, her hands wandering restlessly to touch his hair.

It had always struck Wang Yu as strange that the mental energy of this world seemed to influence one’s mental state.

But Wang Yu was different. No matter how much mental energy he channeled to drive spells or sorcery, he felt no fatigue; instead, he only grew sleepy if he went too long without rest.

His mental energy and his physical state were disconnected; even if he were drained of mental energy, he would not lose consciousness—he would simply be unable to cast spells or manipulate void energy.

It was truly bizarre. Furthermore, the fact that his "mental palace" could move was even more perplexing, leading him to a daring conjecture.

Did he even possess a soul? In his previous life, he certainly did not. But the people of this world did. Did he, having crossed over, possess one now?

His body was the original, without a doubt. Considering his array of peculiar traits, the question of whether his body contained a "soul" remained open to debate.

But now was not the time for such considerations. As Wang Yu had said, they needed to find a safe place to collapse; they could not afford to let their guard down so carelessly.

He could not be certain that Decathlon had no other subordinates, nor could he guarantee that those drawn by the commotion would not pose a threat.

Carrying the girl, Wang Yu walked through the ruins of the mansion, which had become a shambles after the False God’s influence receded.

His own consciousness remained clear, though he noticed the blood beginning to seep from the various wounds on his body. He knew he, too, required rest and treatment.

The girl continued to stroke his hair aimlessly. He did not know what was passing through the little mage’s mind; a faint smile lingered on her face. Avia, usually so wise and sharp, now appeared somewhat dazed.

"Mm?" Seeming to touch something unusual, the girl murmured in confusion, feeling a sticky sensation on her palm.

By the dim light remaining in the house, Avia took a look. What met her eyes was a sea of crimson, and the scent of rust flooded her nostrils. Her groggy, pained head suddenly cleared a little.

The joy of the dust settling dissipated in an instant. Looking at Wang Yu before her, she realized that he was as severely wounded as he had been a year ago.

The spot on his head she had just touched was a gash, still oozing blood.

Looking at the shoulder where her head rested, she could see many deep wounds; some showed signs of healing, only to have split open again.

Blood continued to flow slowly. Looking back, she saw a trail of blood where Wang Yu had walked, a crimson path of footprints stretching behind them—a harrowing sight.

In truth, it was harrowing. Wang Yu had spent the entire night in high-intensity combat and slaughter, barely pausing for a moment.

The only recovery his wounds had received was the brief respite of the third-circle healing spell Mira had cast, which was, in essence, merely a suppression of the damage.

In terms of severity, his injuries were not much different from those he had sustained in his life-or-death struggle against Obi-Wan a year prior.

However, over this past year, Wang Yu’s physique had undergone a step-change in development. This comprehensive improvement made such injuries less fatal than they once were.

Now, he only needed proper rest to allow his body to knit these wounds together. Thus, he needed a safe place; in fact, the basement used to confine Avia’s mother was an excellent choice.

Carrying Avia, Wang Yu stepped once more into the pitch-black, rainy night. The downpour fell in torrents, stinging the skin. Neither had the heart to open an umbrella; they lacked the strength, and it seemed pointless.

Avia felt the cold, wet rain, which stood in stark contrast to the warmth of the back pressed against her chest.

If one were to ask what the girl was feeling now, it was likely heartache above all else. Seeing Wang Yu wounded like this again, she felt truly miserable.

She pressed her head against his and whispered softly into his ear, "Wang Yu..."

She wanted to say something, but did not know how to begin. The emotions in her heart were complex, a tangled mess that defied expression no matter how many times she tried to articulate them.

"Hm? Is something the matter?" Wang Yu did not turn back, his tone as casual as ever, as if he were merely chatting with a close friend.

This tone was usually reserved for intimate friends, but as Avia heard it now, she felt an inexplicable sense of loss and an indescribable frustration.

Her spirits sank involuntarily, yet the feeling in her heart grew more intense—stifling and heavy. Lacking experience, the girl did not know how to express such an elusive sensation.

She felt she should be excited; if she were to describe this feeling using the books she had read, the emotion should have been beautiful.

Yet, she felt deeply uneasy. The rain in the sky was heavy and cold, so cold that it extinguished the sultry heat of midsummer, leaving only a damp chill that seeped into the marrow.

It was so cold that she shivered involuntarily—partly from the exhaustion of her physical strength, but more so from the words stuck in her throat, unable to be spoken.

Was this truly the time for such words? Avia hesitated.

The courage that had been born from the relief of surviving the ordeal was being gradually extinguished by the torrential rain.

Only a tiny spark remained, shielded by a small umbrella, struggling to keep burning.

"Wang Yu, I mean..." The girl wanted to finish what she had to say before the spark died out.

"Yes, I’m listening," Wang Yu’s steady voice came, seemingly providing Avia with the courage to speak.

"I!..." Borrowing that courage, the girl shouted the beginning of her words, but...

"Boom!" Thunder crashed after a flash of lightning. The sudden light pierced the thick, dark clouds, illuminating the pitch-black world—which only Wang Yu had been able to see—for a few fleeting moments.

On Wang Yu’s back, Avia saw the scene before them. The raindrops fell continuously, clear and transparent.

But as they landed on Wang Yu’s head, slid down his neck and shoulders, and continued downward, they changed color. A pale red began to spread—the color of blood.

She looked down at her own chest in a daze; at some point, it had been stained a faint crimson, and the source of this blood was self-evident.

The various wounds on Wang Yu’s body, washed by the rain, had split open again, bleeding anew. Perhaps Wang Yu knew his limits and knew these would not cause further damage.

But for some reason, combined with her sudden surge of courage and the words she wanted to say, the impact was overwhelming.

Her nose stung, and Avia felt an unbearable ache. This man had done so much for her, suffering such injuries, while she had been thinking of trivial things. The feeling of heartache became agonizingly intense.

Her mental energy and void energy were both at their absolute limit; she could not even muster the strength to cast a minor spell to heal him.

A silent guilt and self-reproach bloomed in the girl’s heart. Unconsciously, Avia, hunched on Wang Yu’s back, began to sob quietly.

The rain mixed with the tears from her eyes, and she could no longer distinguish between them. The girl, who had always been strong, was now incredibly fragile.

Perhaps it was because she had finally dropped her guard in front of someone she cared about; perhaps the unspoken feeling was simply too painful; or perhaps the rain was so heavy that it had washed away the girl’s strength.

No one could answer that question. However, Wang Yu, who had been moving at a slow but steady pace, suddenly paused.

Perhaps he felt the girl’s trembling, perhaps he heard her quiet weeping, or perhaps it was both.

A voice, tinged with hesitation, sounded in the rainy night—a rare tone for Wang Yu. "That, uh, I mean, well..."

Wang Yu stammered for a long time, as if organizing his thoughts. But he was not a man to hesitate once he decided to speak, and soon his words flowed smoothly.

"Look, I know there is something you want to tell me, and perhaps you don't know how to say it right now. But what I want to say is, if you can't say it now, maybe it would be a good choice to tell me after we are settled, rested, and have had a good sleep!"

"Whatever you have to say, I am willing to listen."

"In this situation, you are exhausted, and I am covered in wounds. This is hardly the best time for a conversation, is it? There will be plenty of opportunities later, won't there?"

Wang Yu’s tone remained as casual and lighthearted as ever; hearing his words, the girl felt a slight reprieve, yet a deep sense of self-reproach and frustration lingered within her.

Wang Yu had always been this way—unconstrained and earnest, possessing a temperament so tranquil that, in truth, nothing could ever truly bind him. As for herself, would it even matter if she spoke the words she longed to say?

Her thoughts drifted back to that night in the room, to their conversation and her pouring out of her heart to him. A bitter smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and for reasons unknown, the sorrow in her heart deepened; perhaps the outcome would be no different than it had been that night.

She was earnest, and Wang Yu was earnest too, yet the paths of their sincerity seemed to have brushed past one another in the most subtle of ways.

Her sobbing ceased, but the words she wished to speak became even harder to utter; in the rainy night, both fell into a heavy silence.

"Ahem." Wang Yu’s sudden cough shattered the stillness.

"Well, uh, Aivia, I’m not exactly a sentimental person, so I’m particularly unresponsive to certain things. I know I might seem strange at times, and inexplicably dense. I mean, if these things have caused you trouble, I must apologize..."

"So, if you could, there’s no need to be sad..."

A hand rested gently upon the head she had leaned against his shoulder—warm, yet tinged with hesitation.

Seeming quite unsure, the hand offered only a restrained pat before retreating, leaving the impression that such gestures were entirely foreign to him.

"Such a massive ordeal has been resolved, so you should be happy, shouldn't you? Otherwise, it would be such a waste!" Wang Yu’s voice drifted back from ahead.

"Is that so? So... you knew...?" Listening to his words, Aivia was slightly stunned. What Wang Yu said was actually quite clear; perhaps his previous bouts of denseness were, in part, a performance...

"Honestly." She thought to herself, feeling a flicker of annoyance, yet looking at his back, she couldn't bring herself to stay angry.

Aivia reached out, caught the hand that had just patted her head, and pressed it against her cheek, rubbing against it gently. The warmth felt truly wonderful.

"If he knew, then that’s fine," she thought, and the sorrow in her heart gradually began to fade away.

...

"Click..." The basement door opened, and Wang Yu slipped inside with Aivia on his back, closing the door to shut out the wind and rain before descending the impossibly steep stairs.

After a short walk, they reached the room where the girl’s mother stayed, the warm yellow light illuminating their figures as they entered. The mother looked toward them, first at the battered, wounded Wang Yu, then at the girl upon his back.

A smile broke across her weary face as she rose from the bed to meet them. Wang Yu leaned forward to set the girl down, and the mother pulled Aivia into her arms; the two relatives, separated for so long, clung to one another in a tight embrace.

Nestled in her mother’s arms, having endured so much and lost so much, the girl had finally reclaimed the one person who mattered most to her.

Thinking of this, she pulled away from her mother’s embrace, took her hand, and called out toward Wang Yu, "Wang Yu, please, let Mother treat your wounds right away."

There was no response. Looking over, she realized that this man, wounded beyond measure, had already slumped against the wall and fallen asleep...

Ache in her heart, she urged her mother to tend to Wang Yu’s injuries, thinking to herself that after such heavy wounds, it was usually Wang Yu’s training voice that roused her—perhaps this time it was her turn to...

Before she could finish the thought, a wave of exhaustion surged over her, and Aivia leaned against the bed, drifting into a deep slumber.

(Just arrived at university for registration today. This chapter is a fulfillment of the promise made to a reader that the protagonist would have a moment of realization at the end of this volume. I’m not very good at writing this, so it might not be great, but don't worry, I will revise it. I will polish the descriptions in this chapter multiple times later to make the effect better.)