Chapter 42: Forty-two spirits, I will protect you

Trust?

Ning had never been generous with her trust, only sparingly giving it to a select few.

But they all ended up disappointing her.

So she grew increasingly stingy, increasingly cautious, building a house out of hard stone within her heart to hide all her trust away.

If anyone else said that, Ning Li would have scoffed and labeled it “utterly false.”

Yet, it was precisely Ran Fu who said it—the one who had cared for her, protected her, and accompanied her all along the way.

Was it because his words carried such sincerity?

Or because he had consistently lived out his promises?

At that quiet moment, just before they were to enter the Nest of the aberrant species, in this very second, Ning Li instinctively felt a flicker of happiness from those words.

This feeling was strange and novel to her, something she had never experienced before.

But in this instant, she truly felt happiness.

Perhaps, she could try to trust him a little.

Just a tiny bit.

Ning Li gently patted Ran Fu’s shoulder, slid down from his back, and under the moonlight, tentatively took his hand.

In truth, she had always been a rather dull person.

She found it hard to get close to others and didn’t know how to naturally connect.

Even before her falling out with her best friend in her previous life, she never shared those uniquely girlish interactions with her.

Of course, she had never envied others for such interactions either.

She had never shared any tender moments with her brother, Ning Ke; she simply didn’t know how to naturally get along with a brother.

But now, she wanted to be a little closer to Ran Fu.

Just a little bit.

Holding hands should be okay, right?

Not too much?

Would Ran Fu refuse?

Fortunately, Ran Fu didn’t refuse.

Perhaps because she had been clingy before, he was slowly getting used to her closeness.

In her memory, Ran Fu and Ran Wu had always been close—they were the most tacitly understanding siblings, having grown up laughing and bickering together countless times, only to reconcile repeatedly.

But after growing up, they had never once held hands.

Ran Fu thought that was too sappy.

He had always been carefree and quick-tempered; all his patience was reserved for Ran Wu, but he still couldn’t stand that kind of mushy stuff.

Luckily, he didn’t feel that way now.

Ning Li felt Ran Fu’s hand was nice to hold—warm.

His palms were dry and rough, knuckles had calluses—not the flawless hands she had imagined.

But it was precisely that imperfection that made it feel real.

Along the way, they encountered several patrol sentinels scattered about, who appeared in the aberrant species’ activity zones for various reasons—some for survival, others on missions.

Everyone was so busy.

Her and Ran Fu’s presence did not seem out of place at all.

They met Zhu Gao and her group again, but this time Zhu Gao did not greet them proactively.

She just silently watched them before quietly seeing them off.

Zhu Gao’s companion teased her, “Zhu Gao, why didn’t you go over this time? Across from us is a top-tier sentinel! We barely got close enough to contact one before, and you’re just giving up so easily?”

“He’s super strong.”

“Wonder if he… ahem, is really that strong.”

Zhu Gao snorted and said nothing.

Ning Li noticed Zhu Gao kept looking at Ran Fu, but Ran Fu never once responded.

Though Ran Fu appeared gentle, he could sometimes feel distant.

He could smile and chat with a filthy orphan, yet turn his back and pass by a sentinel he had briefly met without a second glance.

He was both easygoing and proud.

Ning Li looked curious.

“So even big brothers have tempers?”

Ran Fu chuckled, “Everyone has tempers. Without one, you’re not human—you’re a god. But perhaps, even gods have their preferences.”

“Is it because she said I’m about to meet God soon?”

Ning Li didn’t mention the word directly, though she wasn’t completely indifferent to it.

She lightly shook Ran Fu’s hand she was holding, smiling, “It doesn’t really matter. No matter how much time I have left, I just want to tell you that every moment with you feels so happy.”

After a pause, she continued, “Brother, I hope every moment you spend with me is also relaxed, joyful, and happy.”

“Because I feel happiness with you, I hope you can feel it too. If you don’t yet, I will work hard to make you feel it.”

Ran Fu said nothing, just squeezed her hand gently.

Tonight’s moonlight was beautiful.

They didn’t rush but moved slowly among the scattered aberrant species.

Occasionally, Ning Li would look up to admire the moon tonight.

Unfortunately, the night for moon-gazing had passed; the moon wasn’t perfectly full.

But perhaps, imperfection is the norm in life.

Ning Li chatted incessantly with Ran Fu about the moon, about this dangerous yet enchanting world.

She was very talkative in front of Ran Fu, probably because she knew he would listen patiently and tolerate all her little thoughts.

Ran Fu had never once shown impatience.

He gave all his patience to her.

A sudden thought surfaced in Ning Li’s heart—

If this path never ends, she might be okay with that.

The journey to the Nest was calm, with no violent clashes.

Ning Li observed and admired the world slowly.

She noticed the moon in this world was large, its edges faintly tinged with blue.

Along the road to the Nest, little flowers bloomed.

This might be the last time she truly saw this world.

Hours later, a gigantic Nest appeared in Ning Li’s sight.

The entrance was roughly a ten-meter-radius semicircle, pitch-black inside, with the deeper world hidden within the mountain.

“Ready?”

Ran Fu asked.

Ning Li clenched her fist.

“Ready!”

Outside the Nest, the world was still relatively calm.

Although the entire District 63 had been ravaged by war and was barely recognizable, at least traces of the original look remained.

But once inside the Nest, the atmosphere shifted instantly.

Tense, oppressive, dim.

Ning Li smelled a strong stench—a strange mix from various aberrant species living together, like rotten eggs, stinging her eyes.

Ran Fu carried her on his back again since she was prone to making noise, and moving around inside the Nest was unsuitable.

Her palm felt empty.

Ning Li thought somewhat out of place, that perhaps that moment was their first and last time holding hands; there wouldn’t be another chance.

But it was alright. She wasn’t greedy.

Ran Fu moved like a cat—agile and alert—using the power of the Storm Lord to pass silently among the sleeping aberrant species.

He was incredibly nimble.

But no matter how skillfully he wielded his ability, they still encountered patrolling aberrant species in the Nest, leading to their first frontal clash.

Midway, Ning Li sensed a wave of energy fluctuations deep inside the Nest.

Could there be a divine gift there?

But whether or not, this was their only chance.

Ran Fu once again forcibly activated the Storm Lord’s power to the extreme.

The wind inside the entire Nest surged wildly like ocean waves, as if a once-calm sea had suddenly been struck by a hurricane, a tsunami about to crash ashore.

One gust after another howled.

The wind was trembling.

More aberrant species gathered around; if they didn’t finish this quickly, their Nest expedition would end here.

The Storm Lord tried to fall silent but couldn’t help saying, [You’re truly crazy.]

Ran Fu had never been this crazy before.

Not once.

Yin Que still managed to say a word of thanks.

[I will help you reach the heart of the Nest.]

“Alright. Thank you for your hard work.”

[…]

[I won’t say goodbye to you.]

[…Looking forward to our next meeting.]

The last words were too vague; Yin Que couldn’t hear them clearly but didn’t care.

Because countless aberrant species started swarming toward them.

They were so densely packed it was like a swarm of giant sesame seeds clustered together.

How many aberrant species were in this Nest?

Hundreds?

Thousands?

Or tens of thousands?

The Storm Lord fell completely silent.

The dark, damp cave echoed only with sharp cries from the aberrant species—high-frequency noise—interspersed with Ran Fu’s heavy breaths.

One aberrant species after another fell.

Wounds appeared on Ran Fu’s body, one after another.

Drip.

A drop of sweat fell on Ning Li’s hand resting on Ran Fu’s neck.

Then a second.

A third.

Ning Li was silent for a long time before taking out a tissue to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

But as she wiped some away, more appeared.

She kept wiping.

Slowly, sweat mixed with blood.

When all the tissues were used up, Ning Li pressed her face against Ran Fu’s sweat-soaked back and softly asked,

“Brother, how much further?”

Ran Fu gasped, his hand beside him trembling slightly; he had no strength left but still answered,

“Almost there.”

The hand on his arm trembled as well.

In truth, until the very end, Ning Li held a hesitant attitude.

She didn’t completely trust him; she found it hard to give her entire trust, nor would she.

She only trusted him a little.

But he had made it this far…

He actually made it this far.

Each time he used his skill, it consumed his lifespan.

How many times had he forcibly used his skill?

Once?

Twice?

Three times?

So many times she lost count.

After the tissues were gone, Ning Li began wiping his sweat with her hands, but there was too much—far too much to wipe away.

She looked at the endless aberrant species and whispered, “Brother, next time I’ll protect you.”

Fighting alone was too exhausting.

She didn’t want him to be so tired anymore.

“Alright. Then I’ll leave it to you.”

In such a tense situation, Yin Que still tried to lighten her mood.

Ning Li chuckled softly.

Those heavy, oppressive emotions receded like a tide.

Now that the moment had come, she wasn’t afraid at all because Ran Fu was there with her.

“Although I don’t know if there’s a next life, if there is, I hope we both live a little longer.”

“I hope I become stronger.”

“Then I’ll protect you.”

Yin Que fought off wave after wave of aberrant species, smiling as he replied,

“Mm. I’m beginning to look forward to it.”

They ultimately succeeded in reaching the aberrant species’ Nest.

But the deepest part of the Nest was empty.

Only a Void Gate emitted a faint blue light.

Ning Li knew what it was.

Ran Wu’s memories told her it was a teleportation portal.

Only one person could pass through at a time.

It was one of the spiritual abilities of the giant spiritual entity, the Spirit Roc.

A top-tier sentinel had been captured here, forced to leave behind such a teleport gate to facilitate aberrant species traveling to other zones.

Every time the energy fluctuated, it was just aberrant species going in and out.

No divine gift.

No longer any hope.

At this moment, Ning Li felt surprisingly calm.

Compared to Ran Fu’s battered state, she was relatively clean, only stained with his and the aberrant species’ blood.

Just like when Ran Fu first took her to meet the Healing Guide, he was soaked in rain, while she remained dry.

In the dim Nest, she only saw Ran Fu’s trembling eyes.

They seemed to say sorry.

Ning Li crouched before Yin Que.

As her brother, he had done more than enough.

It was her who was just a bit unlucky.

Yet paradoxically, she felt lucky.

“Brother, actually, I’m not Ran Wu.”

Ran Fu lifted his face, though he barely had the strength to open his eyes, supported only by his last will.

He wanted to say he knew.

But he had no strength to speak; his spiritual sea was on the verge of collapse, and his sentinel powers were fading bit by bit.

He thought—this time, they would die here together.

Ning Li smiled softly.

Most of the aberrant species in the Nest were dead, only a few scattered ones remained.

The crisis in District 63 was over.

She sincerely praised, “Brother, you’re truly amazing. Do the Natives of District 63 know how much you’ve done? They must know. You will surely leave a profound mark in history. They will be grateful, right? Of course, you solved their greatest crisis.”

After speaking, she gently cupped his blood-soaked face and softly said, “But I don’t want you to be so amazing.”

Because she didn’t want him to die.

Dying like this was just too pitiful.

He hadn’t lived properly yet.

He was only twenty-three.

His spiritual entity hadn’t yet fully blossomed.

He was the Storm Lord.

But the Storm Lord never appeared again.

Ning Li’s eyes filled with profound sorrow and grief.

This sadness was genuine this time, no longer an act.

She leaned on Ran Fu, resting her chin on his shoulder, hands on his other shoulder.

“Brother, please don’t die, okay?”

A scorching tear fell on her chin.

No one knew whose it was.

The remaining aberrant species slowly approached like cats playing with mice.

Ning Li suddenly straightened, grabbed Ran Fu, and pushed him toward the Void Gate.

She had planned to die here with him.

But at the last moment, she changed her mind.

He shouldn’t die here.

She didn’t want him to die.

Leave here.

Find a top-tier guide.

Maybe, he could still survive.

As the Void Gate emitted a pulse of energy, Ning Li calmly waved to him, allowing the aberrant species behind to rapidly close in.

Goodbye, Ran Fu.

“Ah Wu!!!”

Drip.

A silver sphere dropped into Ning Li’s hand.

Chaotic and abundant memories scrambled in her mind.

She was Ning Li, a guide studying at the Frontier Guide Academy.

She was Ran Wu, an ordinary person without an awakened spiritual entity.

She was sometimes at the frontline, sometimes weakly leaning on Ran Fu’s back.

Sometimes she used Death God’s Mandate to deal with threatening sentinels, sometimes she held Ran Fu’s hand and looked up at the moon.

Finally, all memories returned.

She remembered.

She was Ning Li. Her spiritual entity was the Undead Sorcerer.

She was not a defenseless ordinary person.

She possessed the world’s only powerful spiritual entity.

She had the power to protect herself.

Ning Li sank to the ground, breathing heavily.

The fear of being surrounded by aberrant species still lingered in her mind.

Besides fear, there was also powerlessness, struggle, regret, and sorrow.

The lively voice of Little Black rang timely in her spiritual sea.

[Master, where have you been?]

[Master, are you alright?]

The bright flamboyant flower twisted and squatted beside Ning Li, its petals swaying left and right, cautiously observing her state.

The snow-covered skeletal remains were chilling, but Ning Li was sweating profusely.

Snow falling on her quickly melted.

But at some point, the wind and snow stopped falling on her.

She raised her eyes and saw snowflakes twirling and drifting far away on the wind.

Even the wind no longer rushed over.

This scene was so familiar.

In the dream woven by the Cycle Sphere, Ran Fu had countless times sheltered her from the wind and rain like this.

She turned in shock, just meeting Yin Que’s deep eyes.