Chapter 80: The Slaughter Continues

Slaughter—endless slaughter.

The beasts fell in droves. Though the King of the Underworld and Nuoluo possessed the strength to conquer all before them, the sheer number of beasts maintained the balance, if only for a fleeting moment.

The mountaintop reeked with the stench of blood. At their feet, the crimson tide was thick enough to form a small river, staining every mountain path in its wake.

Only when the last beast collapsed, unwilling and unresigned, did the carnage cease.

Nuoluo gazed pensively at the heaps of corpses before her.

In the city of Baili, heavy night cloaked everything. The slumbering people could hardly imagine that, so close to them, in those mysterious mountains, a bloody battle had just concluded.

At the heart of Baili stood the serene Earth Goddess Temple. Modest in size, it exuded the unique majesty of the earth deity’s lineage: as warm as blazing sunlight, as mysterious as gentle moonlight, yet nothing could erase the sanctity and solemnity that belonged solely to the temple.

At the center, the sacred flame of the temple burned quietly, radiating its unique glow—enough to warm the entire sanctuary.

Yet even such resplendent fire could not dispel the shadows in Shaoguang’s heart as she anxiously awaited Nuoluo’s return. Time and again, she peered outside, only to be met with disappointment.

Her Highness had been gone in the Baili Mountains for so long, and still had not returned. Could danger truly have befallen her? And what of the rumored Reaper—was it truly death incarnate?

Shaoguang had met the King of the Underworld. Was the Reaper as cold and unfeeling as he? Would Her Highness return safely?

Questions raced, countless and relentless. Shaoguang dared not pursue the answers, for if they proved true, another fierce battle would be inevitable. She had missed the journey to Sunset Mountain, and though Her Highness never spoke of the hardships endured, Shaoguang could sense the peril in the faintest expressions.

Since returning from Sunset Mountain, Her Highness had never truly rested. After igniting the Sacred Heart Flame, she hurried to Fengdu, and soon after, appeared in Baili.

Who could see the burdens Her Highness bore behind the mantle of supreme authority? Every time Shaoguang thought of this, her heart ached for Nuoluo—she was simply too weary. May all remain peaceful in the Baili Mountains this time.

But with Her Highness still absent, Shaoguang’s hope faded. Yet she dared not disobey her orders.

Now, all she could do was pray the temple’s sacred flame would continue to burn, and that nothing strange would occur as it had in Fengdu.

Niaoniao also peered anxiously outside, flitting back and forth, circling restlessly above Shaoguang’s head.

“Shaoguang, do you think Nuoluo is in danger? Why don’t we go look for her!” Niaoniao tried to fly out.

Shaoguang herself longed to be at Nuoluo’s side, but she could not leave; she had to wait here for Nuoluo’s return—and Niaoniao could not leave, either.

Shaoguang saw clearly Nuoluo’s special affection for Niaoniao; she truly cared for its safety, otherwise she would not have entrusted Shaoguang to bring Niaoniao to the temple.

As for Niaoniao’s origins, Shaoguang was perplexed; she could find no clues. She had, at times, subtly questioned Nuoluo about Niaoniao, but never received a clear answer. The truth was, even Nuoluo herself did not know.

She could see the same questions reflected in those eyes that spanned time and space. Yet since Her Highness harbored no doubts, Shaoguang chose to trust in her judgment.

“Shaoguang, are you going or not? If you aren’t, I’ll go myself!” Niaoniao grew anxious at Shaoguang’s silence.

“Wait. Not only can I not go, you can’t either. That is Her Highness’s order.” Shaoguang refused without hesitation.

Niaoniao looked at her, then remembered the look in Nuoluo’s eyes before she left. Reluctantly, it folded its wings and settled onto the ground. The more time it spent with Nuoluo, the less it dared defy her commands—knowing that once Nuoluo made a decision, nothing would change her mind.

If it disobeyed, and Nuoluo in anger sent it back to the Main Temple, would it then have to endure endless solitude? The thought of passing time alone in that vast hall filled Niaoniao with dread, for it knew Nuoluo would do just that if angered.

Then, another thought occurred: perhaps Nuoluo truly worried for its safety, which was why she had ordered it to stay. If the Reaper lurked in the Baili Mountains, then the undead might also appear.

Nuoluo had always remembered its aversion to the undead. Realizing this care, Niaoniao’s heart grew even more anxious, longing for Nuoluo to appear at once.

Disappointment mounted as time ticked by. Shaoguang’s heart waged a fierce war—she yearned to aid Her Highness, but would not violate her command. What was she to do?

In the Baili Mountains, all was drawing to a close.

Every beast had been robbed of breath.

As before, the King of the Underworld’s ten fingers danced, and the beasts’ remains became skeletons, then powder, and then reformed as one. These would all be used in Fengdu.

The Dark Butterfly flitted excitedly, discovering countless new prey. The shattered souls of the beasts drifted through heaven and earth, finally becoming its food.

Nuoluo watched the butterfly’s relentless consumption. Compared to devouring true undead, its actions were no less chilling.

The Dark Butterfly seemed to sense Nuoluo’s thoughts, its eyes fixed intently on her.

It seemed almost offended.

Nuoluo looked at it in surprise. “It can actually understand my thoughts? How extraordinary. How does it do that?”

The King of the Underworld glanced at the butterfly, as if communicating, then turned to Nuoluo.

“The Dark Butterfly must feed on souls to restore its strength. These souls are even more fearsome than those of humans—they may bring unforeseen consequences. The Dark Butterfly is only helping you; you should not misunderstand.”

His explanation only deepened Nuoluo’s curiosity. Was it only when she mentioned its name that the butterfly sensed her thoughts? If so, she could accept it. But if not—if the butterfly could read her mind at will, and the King could communicate with it—then before the King of the Underworld, she would be as transparent as glass.

She hoped that was not the case. If the butterfly could so easily pierce her thoughts, the prospect was terrifying.

She devised a test, intentionally shifting her thoughts to Niaoniao. As expected, the butterfly showed no reaction, simply continuing to consume the fragments of souls.

Nuoluo breathed a sigh of relief. So, it could not read her mind entirely—thank goodness. Though she and the King of the Underworld were not adversaries now, what of the future? If the mortal world and the underworld were ever to stand opposed, and the King could divine her every thought through the butterfly, what advantage would she have left?

Her gaze returned to the towering figure before her. Even now, she could scarcely believe he was the very same ruler she had met in the underworld—the absolute sovereign of the world of spirits.

Yet the King of the Underworld seemed somehow different now.

He was wholly absorbed in transforming the beasts’ remains for use in Fengdu, giving everything to Nuoluo—keeping not a single trace for himself. From beginning to end, he showed not the slightest desire, as if all he did was for her alone.

With the deathly howls of the beasts silenced, the Baili Mountains fell back into their old tranquility. This time, even without Nuoluo’s barriers, nothing was heard below—no unusual cries disturbed the townsfolk.

Yet the tang of blood lingered in the air, bearing silent witness to the slaughter that had just transpired. But this time, Nuoluo had triumphed. A catastrophe had been strangled in its cradle, thanks to the King of the Underworld’s aid.

The mist atop the mountain slowly dissipated, much of it the lingering breath of the slain beasts. Now, with their extinction, the last of the fog was swept away by the wind.

Night’s darkness was no longer as deep as before; the taste of dawn grew stronger, and soon, radiant sunlight would envelop the land.

As the first rays of sun spilled over the horizon, the Dark Butterfly, still hungrily devouring souls, let out a shrill cry and darted back to perch on the King of the Underworld’s shoulder, as if conveying some dreadful message.

He turned to it, as if to offer comfort.

In a flash, the Dark Butterfly vanished.

In that final instant, it looked back at Nuoluo, as if reluctant to part, as though a silent promise had been made.

Nuoluo felt a pang at its departure. It seemed the butterfly feared sunlight—did that mean it could only appear at midnight’s shadow?

The King of the Underworld looked at Nuoluo, his gaze so deep it seemed to swallow her whole. “The Dark Butterfly dislikes the sun. We shall meet again here tonight.” It was as though he conveyed the butterfly’s invitation—or perhaps it was his own hope.

Nuoluo nodded. Though the beasts were gone, some mysterious force still lurked within the Baili Mountains. She too wished to unearth the truth.

It seemed, for now, she must remain in Baili.

The sun had risen, its light cascading over the earth like a misty rain, illuminating the world in boundless splendor.

Beneath this brilliant radiance, the King of the Underworld’s form had vanished entirely—he, too, abhorred the touch of sunlight. Nuoluo walked to where he had stood, and in that place, she seemed to feel a lingering warmth, as if she were wrapped in an embrace of light.