novelraw Chapter 137 : Chapter 137
Chapter 137 : Chapter 137
Chapter 137 : Manga World Continuation (2)
The flow of time in the real world aligned with that of the manga world.
When the animated promotional video aired in the real world, several months had passed in the manga world as well.
During those months, the creation of Li City reached its conclusion.
Most people adapted to a society without abilities, growing accustomed to laws that upheld equality for all and punished murderers.
Under the pressure of abilities, the technology of this world, which had not been highly developed, advanced rapidly during this time.
The original Floating City relied on abilities to float in the air, but the current Li City was supported by technology and a pillar—a sturdy cylindrical column connecting the aerial city to the ground below, holding the entire city aloft.
It was no longer an ethereal, floating mirage, prosperous yet rotten within.
Instead, it was solid, as if rooted from the earth, from the lowest echelons of society, growing upward, breaking through the soil, like a flower blooming in the sky.
Facing the sunrise, toward the beautiful blue sky, it displayed its splendor.
Tide replaced the imperial family, but they did not immediately elect a new leader for the nation.
For now, matters were handled through a council of multiple members.
At this moment, in Tide’s new council hall, the air felt as if it had frozen into ice, solid and emanating a chill that stifled their breathing.
Seated there were only Tide’s top leaders, discussing secrets not meant to be revealed to the masses.
“What you’re saying, is there evidence?”
Sang Feiling sat upright at the table.
She was always radiant with a smile, like a carefree breeze blowing across the horizon, but her tone now was unusually serious and stiff.
Even her smile was restrained, revealing a cold, distrustful, and questioning expression.
“Yiming.” Hua Yizhi’s face looked even worse, as if he might fling his sleeves and leave, but he ultimately said, “This isn’t something to joke about.”
The two of them represented Tide’s old faction, the original members who survived from the Ability Guild to the present.
At the same time, they were witnesses of the Prophet’s era, having met the Prophet in person and deeply believing in him.
It was the Prophet who led the old faction to carve out a place for themselves, and it was the Prophet’s predictions that sustained them, allowing them to grit their teeth and persevere through the most devastating failures until now.
But on this day, the Prophet Shuang Buyan’s adopted son, the spark in the prophecy, Yiming, stepped forward and told them—
They had believed in the wrong person.
How could they possibly accept this so easily!
Tang had been keeping her head down since earlier, but An Huyu, sitting beside her, turned and saw her trembling fingertips.
The person her father trusted most might have deceived him, causing that man, who would cry profusely even when lying, to kill their comrades and become an undeniable traitor.
Her father’s ability was even healing.
Tang inherited her father’s ability, and she knew what a healer meant to their comrades.
A trusted person, a guarantee of safety, a trump card to reverse tragedy.
Because Tang herself was like that in Tide—everyone liked her, protected her, and she hoped to heal everyone in time.
But Tang Zeng, the man with the healing ability, had killed their comrades.
Tang herself couldn’t accept that her father could be so despicable.
At this moment, after hearing Yiming’s words, Tang couldn’t discern what emotions she was feeling.
Perhaps her father didn’t want to be a traitor.
Perhaps he was just… deceived by the Prophet.
An Huyu, who had reverted to his lively demeanor after reuniting with An Heyu, couldn’t bring himself to jump out and say something comical in such a moment.
Like Yiming, they belonged to the new faction.
Yiming was already the representative of the new faction, alongside others like Yishi and Rao Yue.
The new faction consisted of people who joined Tide after the Ability Guild’s collapse.
They had never met the Prophet and joined Tide only for shared ideals, but they were influenced by the old faction’s emotions, leading them to believe in the Prophet who once led the Ability Guild.
They didn’t refute like the old faction, but they remained silent, finding it hard to accept.
An Huyu glanced worriedly at Yiming, the only one standing.
Yiming had met the Prophet because Shuang Buyan, the Prophet, was the foster father who raised him.
He taught him, nurtured him, occupying nearly half of Yiming’s life.
But now, though Yiming’s voice was somewhat hoarse and tinged with sadness, his tone was resolute: “Buyan, Shuang Buyan didn’t die. He is Yu Xiao, an SS-rank domain-type ability user.”
Only two people knew that Yu Xiao was the Prophet Shuang Buyan: the Illusionist Heige and the Deity Libra, who backed the former empire.
But they could no longer step forward to reveal the truth.
Still, Yiming pieced together the truth from Jue Hui Shen’s words and from the former imperial family of Floating City.
Those well-informed knew that a wandering SS-rank ability user had once visited Floating City, faked his death, and left in a new guise.
Yiming and others had watched the two plunge into the sea, but Jue Hui Shen witnessed a golden-haired man in the water, and that man referred to the Illusionist as ‘father.’
The death of Ranmu City’s former lord, the vengeful manner of his death, and An Heyu’s denial during his confrontation with An Huyu: it wasn’t Heige’s doing.
At this moment, An Huyu and Dan were still wandering in the news department, but the former imperial princess Wuyu was also in this council hall.
“I once said you were stirring unrest, endangering this empire,” she said, her face tense, prompting angry expressions from some.
But the pink-haired girl paid no heed to those sharp gazes and continued, “I still think so.”
“If the Prophet hadn’t completed the deal with the Deity, your actions would only have led to the world’s destruction,” Wuyu said without a trace of emotion.
She seemed to recall the person who told her ‘don’t emulate Libra,’ now understanding why he said that.
As expected of the Prophet, that person was right.
She couldn’t master the Deity’s methods or achieve the Deity’s detachment.
She couldn’t completely abandon her emotions, just like when she saw An Huyu again—she doubted him but hoped he hadn’t betrayed the empire, giving him a chance to stay by her side instead of executing him for treason.
Wuyu realized that one day she desperately wanted to share the long-hidden secrets of this world with someone else.
She said, “The Prophet’s deal with the Deity included indulging your actions and abandoning the imperial family, allowing you to overthrow the empire. The Deity agreed because the Prophet would pay a price that satisfied the Deity.”
But she still felt a bit unwilling.
She thought.
The empty seat symbolizing the imperial family’s noble status, yet unoccupied, showed that the Prophet of the empire cared more about those rebels and an unknown deal with the Deity.
“If the Prophet had been with the empire from the start, you wouldn’t have won.”
Wuyu admitted her previous thoughts were wrong, but she still believed that if the Prophet had been with the imperial family, they could have done better.
“If that’s true,” Hua Yizhi murmured, “the Prophet, Shuang Buyan, knew the upheaval would destroy the world. Without Heige, wouldn’t we have destroyed this world?”
Recalling the final moments of that great battle, many felt suffocated.
“Back then, when the sky cracked, was the world itself collapsing?”
After they defeated the Deity, the sky revealed a black curtain with white, spreading cracks.
They were so close to death, nearly causing everyone to perish in a collapsing world, committing an unforgivable, catastrophic mistake in the name of saving it.
“We almost destroyed the world ourselves?” Those with a strong sense of justice couldn’t accept it.
They had clearly held beautiful hopes, wishing for a better world.
The truth turned the lightness and joy they once felt into a dreamlike bubble, as if it would vanish with a single breath.
“It seems that person was right to hide it from us. If we had known the truth back then, the imperial family wouldn’t have needed to send anyone—we would have collapsed on our own,” Sun Shen said with a bitter smile.
Even now, after learning the truth, many would likely start regretting, endlessly blaming and tormenting themselves.
Without that person, things would have turned out unimaginably worse.
Sang Feiling closed her eyes, seemingly lost in thought for a long time.
Her legs had been fitted with prosthetics, and her scarred face was uncovered.
She faced her current self openly because she knew she was doing the right thing.
But today, she learned that what she thought was right was merely a malicious deception.
Did she regret it? A question surfaced in her mind.
Then, immediately following— she wouldn’t regret it.
She recalled that long ago, during her first formal meeting with that Illusionist, he had already expressed what she was thinking now.
And that person also said—
“Heige told me we weren’t wrong,” Sang Feiling sighed softly.
That Illusionist believed they weren’t wrong, that they were right.
That’s why he hid those things, going to Floating City alone to become the Prophet of the empire, a role he didn’t want.
That’s why he paved the way for them, allowing them to charge forward with unstoppable morale to reach their new world.
An indescribable emotion surged within Sang Feiling, her eyes welling up for a moment.
Because when he said those comforting words, that person himself was clearly lost.
“We were all protected,” Yishi, who had been in poor health since the great battle, said as well, pausing before adding, “I’m ashamed. I never even had the chance to speak with him.”
He had lived in seclusion, avoiding the world and the truth, unaware of what other SS-rank users knew.
In the end, he was saved by a younger junior, salvaging a disastrous defeat.
“Whether it’s guilt or gratitude, there’s nothing we can do now,” Yan Changxiao shook his head, resting his hand on his forehead for support. “This sense of powerlessness is awful.”
In the council hall, some sensitive individuals quietly sobbed.
They had learned the truth, that they had believed in the wrong person, but also that someone had borne everything for them, forging a path they could believe in and strive for to achieve victory.
Though it was hard to accept, what was even harder was that they couldn’t thank the person who had silently sacrificed so much.
Because it was already too late.
“I’m glad I know the truth,” Yiming spoke up in the heavy atmosphere, his gaze still resolute. “What I couldn’t accept most was that Li bore everything alone while we knew nothing.”
After learning the truth, he kept recalling the night before Yu Xiao’s death.
Playfully wearing a skirt, smiling and chatting aimlessly, but revealing a fleeting sense of fragility.
Clearly, he was also grieving but bore it all alone. If Yiming hadn’t asked Jue Hui Shen, the matter would have remained hidden, never seeing the light of day.
Yiming said deliberately, “Li protected us and gave us a chance to fight for the dawn ourselves. We did it. We didn’t let his blood go to waste.” At this, he gave a faint smile. “I think he’d be happy too.”
After all, his brother was such a gentle person.
“Wait a moment,” Yishi suddenly said.
He pondered and raised a possibility.
“Back then, the Deity was using our souls to mend this world,” Yishi said.
“Right. That’s why my healing didn’t work, and we had to endure it ourselves,” Tang said, steadying her emotions.
“Though slow, our souls were indeed recovering,” Yishi pointed at himself. “I couldn’t move at first, but now I can walk.”
“You mean…” Not just Yiming, others gradually widened their eyes, showing hopeful expressions.
“In the end, Heige changed the world. His power was close to a Deity’s, stronger than all of us,” Yishi said his final words. “If he left even a fragment of his soul before it was fully consumed, he might still be alive.”
Like when he proposed the limitations of Libra’s ability during the great battle, Yishi now suggested a mere speculation, but one with great potential.
Though slim, it reignited their morale.
As long as there was hope, they would stand up and charge stubbornly toward their goal.
Tide’s people immediately took action.
But much time had passed.
Though the original battlefield hadn’t been renovated due to its special nature, it had become neat and orderly.
Without abilities, their method of searching for lifeforms shifted to using detectors developed by researchers for ability studies, tirelessly searching, expanding the range when nothing was found, combing every inch of land without leaving a gap.
“What’s up with those higher-ups lately, always wandering around?” people often remarked.
“Heard they’re looking for someone,” those with some knowledge would say.
“Remember the choice from a few months ago? It’s that person.”
“Not just that. Ever heard of the empire’s Prophet? Or further back, the empire’s SSS-rank wanted criminal, the Illusionist Heige,” someone more informed would point to the flower-like new city. “Li City was named after him.”
“He’s a great person. I hope they find him,” ordinary citizens sincerely prayed.
“The one who brought us this peaceful life must stay safe.”
But as time passed, the initial enthusiasm turned into a daily refrain: no news.
Yet this wouldn’t make them give up, for they were just as stubborn.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have united to challenge the empire.
“It’s been too long,” An Huyu sometimes said dejectedly. “And now that we don’t have abilities, we don’t know if his ability rank would’ve left even a fragment of his soul.”
Then Tang would punch him lightly, saying softly, “Pfft, stop saying discouraging things!”
Yiming would laugh heartily and say, “It’s only been a few days. We’ll find him eventually.”
But when his friends parted, he would count the days, then lower his eyes, revealing a trace of sorrow.
Lately, he couldn’t sleep well.
In the dead of night, he wandered alone to the ruins of that great battle, quietly pacing the uneven roads.
“We’re not the same kind of people,” he recalled the harsh words he had said. “That’s why I can’t find you, right?”
The city’s lights in the distance remained bright, colorful beams illuminating half the night sky.
The highest lights shone down onto the streets, gradually reaching the ground beneath Yiming’s feet.
It was like their first meeting, when Qing Tong captured their figures, relentlessly focusing the spotlight.
The light was somewhat blinding, but Yiming didn’t look away, only squinting slightly.
His dry eyes seemed to moisten, and he lowered his head, rubbing them.
Back then, he saw that person in the shadows, reaching out and talking about taking her away.
He hadn’t kept that promise.
“I miss you, Li,” he said, his voice muffled, like a stray dog unable to find home.
He couldn’t find his brother.
“Are you crying?”
At that moment, a familiar voice drifted faintly into his ears.
Yiming almost instantly lowered his arms, looking anxiously with reddened eyes toward the source of the voice.
He saw the incandescent light moving, slowly illuminating the shadows. He saw specks of light floating under the white glow.
And he saw a figure illuminated, emerging from the shadows into his view, revealing a familiar face.
Black hair, black eyes, the once-cold face now curved at the corners, teasing as always: “Grown up now, and still crying?”
It was the voice Yiming could only recall from memory each day.
That person stood under the light, illuminated by its glow, appearing before Yiming once more.
And Yiming stood in the shadows, in the darkness, chasing the light, running toward it like a playful Little Corgi.
He sniffled, hugging her in her indulgent smile.
“Is this a dream?” But his tears fell harder.
And when the light moved away, returning them to the shadows of the night, the ‘illusion’ still hadn’t vanished.
The clock struck two, yesterday had passed, and today ushered in a new tomorrow.
Li Li rubbed Yiming’s head, her warm palm seemingly conveying an unspoken strength. She said, “Need me to beat you up again?”
Yiming let out a whimper but fell silent, calming down.
After who knows how long, he said, “As long as you’re still here.”
The silly Little Corgi was so easy to comfort.
He didn’t care what Li Li had done to hurt him or how much pain she caused him back then.
As long as Li Li came back, he would smile for their reunion.
“Yeah,” Li Li smiled, saying slowly but firmly, “I won’t leave again, Little Corgi.”
She now had enough strength to do whatever she wanted.