Chapter 495

Chapter 495: Chapter 492: "You Must Become a Good Person.Su Ming’an restarted a save; he tried to prevent Feng Qiqi from starting the fire.

However, the volcanic eruption seemed not to be caused by Feng Qiqi’s act of lighting the fire, rather it was a disaster destined to occur during the calamity period.

It would erupt at a fixed time.

In this loop, Su Ming’an showed the parchment he found in Xiber’s room to Sik and Chushan, who had just arrived. They should be able to understand this ancient fantasy language as well.

"" Sik translated this ancient fantasy language sentence, but the meaning was somewhat elusive, "What does this mean? What is the raven?"

"Isn’t the raven a divine messenger of Bai Shen?" Su Ming’an said.

"What?" Sik expressed his confusion, "I’ve never heard of Lord Bai Shen having a divine messenger."

"..." Su Ming’an was slightly stunned. Could it be that five years earlier, the raven hadn’t appeared yet?

——"Stop discussing! This way! Hurry!" Shadow interrupted their conversation, pulling them forward; he was very familiar with the tribe’s routes.

"Boom——!" A loud noise suddenly erupted.

The volcano had erupted.

As long as Su Ming’an wanted to save both Cici and Feng Qiqi, he would inevitably be delayed until this moment. They couldn’t manage to escape the tribe ahead of time together.

The violent sounds burst forth as if it were the apocalypse. Thick lava and scorching volcanic ash were ejected, resembling the brilliant flames of a sunset cloud. Rubble and blistering gases smashed down as if to engulf everything.

The air rose, trembled, scorched, and exploded...

As the boulders and flames approached, Su Ming’an swung his knife.

"Boom——!"

Ripples spread through the space, the impending danger from above temporarily stalled for a second, but the area of the falling debris was so vast, they couldn’t escape its range.

Just then, a streak of white light shone, blocking the falling rubble that came after.

"Get behind me——!"

Chushan, Cici’s mother, stood at the rear of the group, erected the Defensive Barrier, and shielded the children who hadn’t managed to flee. Behind her followed the four surviving children, among whom was not Chang Sheng; he must’ve already left on his own.

Her Protective Shield was not omnipotent, it could only amplify her defensive power.

Facing the high temperatures, her palms turned a bright and scalding red, and even the dark hair on her forehead began to burn.

Her fingers were beautiful, slender like they were meticulously cared for. But now they started to spontaneously combust like firewood, her flesh curling as her nails shrank like burnt popcorn.

Her black hair cascaded down her back, once smooth as satin, but now responsible for transferring heat, it began to wither and gradually turn into blackened fragments.

Her soles grew hot, emitting a strange scratching sound against the ground, as she braced against the land, preventing herself from being pushed back by the force of the impact—for behind her were her husband and children.

Her husband, Sik, held her hand but it was like holding a branding iron, as his own hand turned red from the burn.

"Shanshan, you..." Sik retracted his hand from the pain, clenched his teeth, and then took her hand again.

But Chushan released his hand of her own accord.

Withstanding the scorching temperature on her face, she used her charred hands to drape a red robe over Cici.

The red robe was so large it nearly enveloped Cici entirely, her little face like a patch of white snow in the fire.

Seeing the red robe covered in stitches, Cici suddenly remembered countless nights when Chushan busied herself under the lamp, a tiny needle and red cloth shining under the oil lamp until her mother’s silhouette merged into the rich dusk with the fireworks.

Then her eyes met her mother’s eyes.

Chushan’s eyes were dark, like black pearls, always brimming with reproach towards her, as if she couldn’t wait for her to grow up and become the best adult she could be.

Cici often got angry with this woman. As the most pampered little princess of the tribe, she would yell over the strenuous training tasks and sulk over Chushan’s harsh criticism.

She had always been spoiled and wilful towards her mother, like an ignorant child.

She had never thought her mother would die.

The red-clad mother pulled up her brother, patted his shoulder, and reached for Cici’s head.

Chushan dared not touch them, afraid that the temperature from her would scald them.

Yet Cici suddenly reached out, embracing the entirely reddened her.

The scorching temperature burned Cici’s palms, and her arms began to fester, exhibiting extensive, unhealable burns.

Chushan turned around, facing the boundless, bright red flames, her skin blistering, her gradually blackening face making her eyes unclear to discern.

She released the Defensive Barrier from her hands.

The Barrier leapt over her body, which was being devoured by flames, and settled upon the children’s heads.

"Qiqi, Cici," she pushed away Cici’s hands that clung onto her, tearing away as if ripping off flesh together with bone,"... you will always be Mom’s pride."

Like a pillar thrust into the earth, her skin turned redder and redder like the rind of a watermelon, yet she did not take a single step back,

and the thin figure of this mother appeared tall and imposing in this moment.

In the vibrant, intense red, her bones warped by the high temperature, she was like a dead, withered tree.

The persistent Black Mist that hadn’t dissipated penetrated the Protective Shield, kissing her burning black hair.

She disappeared into the redness.

The Protective Shield still retained its defensive power, capable of following them as they moved forward.

Chushan had poured her last Strength into this Barrier, allowing her children to walk this path paved by her life.

During this time, four of the surviving children, except for Feng Qiqi and Cici, died one after another. The temperature here was simply too high, and the Curse surging in them could not withstand the violent fluctuations of the environment.

Finally, they left the most dangerous area and arrived at the edge of the woods.

The forest was ablaze with fire that had spread to this place.

Feng Qiqi spat out a mouthful of blood.

His violent coughing echoed unusually clearly in the woods, and frightening black streaks appeared on his arms.

His Curse, which had already been suppressed once before, along with an intense battle along the way, was now close to erupting.

"...Brother," Cici whispered, barely audible, clutching his wrist.

The somewhat hot red robe was draped over her; her legs had given out.

Su Ming’an silently watched all of this unfold.

Tracing effects back to their causes and combining that with future events, he already knew what would happen next.

As expected, Sik, who had been silent, took a step forward and took hold of Feng Qiqi, who was already becoming delirious.

He forcefully pulled Feng Qiqi’s trembling hand, locking it around his neck.

"Behave."

This man, who seemed to have aged a decade in a moment, controlled Feng Qiqi, who was struggling violently.

"Don’t—! I don’t want to!" Feng Qiqi, realizing what was about to happen next, started struggling violently.

However, the weakened him had no power to resist under Sik’s hands.

Sik reached back with his hands, grabbing Feng Qiqi’s hands, and like in a tug-of-war, they pulled on each other. Moments later, with a forceful tug from Sik, Feng Qiqi’s hands were forced onto the back of Sik’s neck.

Like a child perched upon a parent’s shoulders, Feng Qiqi leaned against his father’s broad back.

He cried out in anguish.

The black streaks spread from his body to Sik’s.

This was what Xiber had spoken of: between blood relatives, a method to transfer Curses.

The transferor could lessen the concentration of their own Curse by touching the nape of a relative, thereby transferring the Curse onto the other person.

Sik was forcefully pulling Feng Qiqi’s hands to share this Power of Curse with him.

As Sik transferred the Curse, the Protective Shield above them began to fracture.

The surging flames and scalding hot winds began to assault the group below.

Standing at the end of the line, Su Ming’an turned and raised his knife.

He swung it upwards.

"Boom—!"

The surging flames were split by his strike, dispersing around like flowing through all the oceans.

The intense trembling of the spatial fluctuations, like a defense overhead, protected the father and son who were transmitting the curse; Su Ming’an stood beneath the vibrations, hearing the sobbing voice of Feng Qiqi behind him.

"...Dad, I don’t want to..."

"Qiqi, you are already thirteen years old, not young anymore. After this disaster ends, when we go back, you... must atone for all our deceased tribespeople.

We are the inheriting family Zeven, tasked with protecting our tribespeople. No matter what... you must fulfill your duties, and for your lifetime, you must atone for the tribespeople who survived."

"I will atone, it was me who set the fire, just let me die here... Why should you and mom stand in front? You are the true Young Tribe Leader, I am just... insignificant..."

"..." Sik closed his eyes.

The spreading black lines climbed up his arm, and his condition was already not good. When he forcibly took over the curse from Feng Qiqi, his life had uncontrollably headed towards its end.

When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse.

"I am the Young Tribe Leader of our tribe," he said. "...But before that, I am your father."

He clenched the hand Feng Qiqi placed on the back of his neck, like a father allowing his child to ride on his shoulders in play.

His large hand held tightly, as if fearing that if he loosened his grip for even a moment, the child on his shoulders would fall off.

"Qiqi, I have no regrets being born into the Zeven family. My only regret... is the tribe’s backward inheritance... the God Sacrifice Ceremony, for not being able to watch you grow up," he said.

"Boom—!"

Su Ming’an swung his knife once more, splitting the oncoming forest fire.

The black earth rolled up blood-red waves of fire, the hot wind lifting his black hair.

He looked up towards the low sky.

"Cici is innocent, but the tribespeople will still vent their anger on her. You can’t take her back to the First Tribe with you," Sik said. "...From now on, you’ll be alone. You must take care of yourself."

As he spoke, he also began to cough.

The dangerous curse, the pounding pain like a drumstick, all slowly drifted away from Feng Qiqi, transferring to a solid back.

Feng Qiqi breathed heavily and cried. How could he not know the pain the back figure was enduring at this moment?

But he was too weak to move, his hand was tightly enclosed by a pair of warm, strong hands, firm like iron hoops, keeping him from escaping, warm like a stream nourishing his battered body.

At that moment, what flashed like lightning was the thought that he would have to atone for his entire life.

...He would abolish the backward God Sacrifice Ceremony.

He would... despise everything that brings curses and disasters. He would have faith in Bai Shen, and loathe Jiu Shen.

He would... embrace all that should be believed, and denounce everything that was not accepted.

His views would align with every tribesperson—

He would become the most qualified Clan Leader.

Tears uncontrollably streamed in large droplets down his face, and he struggled to catch his breath.

As the last shred of pain left his body, as the power of annihilation completely spread through his limbs and bones—

He heard his father’s gentle voice, despite the struggle with agony:

"Qiqi, I bestow upon you the name ’Chang,’ part of the Zeven inheritance."

The father turned his head to look at Cici.

"Cici, I bestow upon you the word ’Bo’er,’ part of the Zeven inheritance."

Cici remained silent, closing her eyes.

She was much calmer than Feng Qiqi, who was sobbing uncontrollably. At such a moment, not a single tear fell from her eyes.

In Qiongdi, before parents pass away, they bestow a new name on their children.

It signified that from that moment on, the children without parents must learn to grow independently and cast aside all past weaknesses.

The new name represented their honor, while the old name was merely a symbol of the naivety and frailty of their childhood.

Only by calling them by their new names was it considered a respect for their growth and independence. Mentioning their past names, on the other hand, would be seen as contempt for them.

After giving his children their new names, his father, with a broadening silhouette, released his hand, letting Feng Qiqi down.

He said,

"...Fengchang."

"You and Xiber must grow up well, each becoming a good person."

"Boom—!"

Su Ming’an sheathed the Amber Knife.

He turned around and saw Sik’s broad back disappearing in a burst of white light.

He saw Feng Qiqi, who was crying and kneeling, and the Annihilation Power on him, which had been greatly augmented, shooting into the sky like a deity’s judgment, utterly destroying the surrounding flames.

In the final moments, the white light emanating from Sik grew brighter.

As the white light gradually faded away,

he turned into a particularly cold, transparent Soul Stone,

in Feng Qiqi’s hand.

The lament of a falling bird tore through the flames that filled the mountains.

Feng Qiqi knelt on the ground, like a black line dividing heaven and earth, with all the flames around him moving in his orbit. The dark energy roared wildly, rolling up like black silk ribbons and engulfing the dangerous flames.

At this moment, he was still relentlessly moving forward on the path of life, but on a parallel path beside him, someone had already come to a halt.

What he once thought was enduring, even eternal, and never expected to lose, seemed so vulnerable now.

Yet, all these were merely outbursts, incapable of saving his soul.

No longer was that familiar silhouette in front of him.

From now on, he and Cici had lost their parents.

There would no longer be anyone to sew robes under the light for them, no one to sing them lullabies, no one to incessantly remind them to put on more clothes, and no one to lead them by hand or carry them on their backs, exploring every corner of Qiongdi.

He and Cici were to undergo an immensely long process of growth until they became what they were meant to be in the future.

The second Annihilator of the Guides, Fengchang Zeven.

...And the hundredth Prophet of the Guides, Xiber.