[”Survive…”]
Where Liang’s languid movements had made it feel like I was wading through molasses all night, the moment the window was breached, my body became light as a feather.
Trait Activated: A Gamer’s Reflexes
Grade: Foundation
Process information 1.2 times faster. Drains Qi at an accelerated rate.
Springing to my feet, the room snapped into perfect, brutal clarity. Every detail stood sharp: where we were standing, where the burning arrow would land, and where the explosion would bloom. The ground itself seemed to glow faintly, tracing the deadly radius before it even happened. But knowing wasn’t enough. My body had to keep up.
Two steps carried me to Mei’s side, and then the arrow struck. The air screamed as the explosion consumed it, and a shockwave of heat slammed into my back, burning my calves and neck as I flung myself forward. Mei let out a sharp gasp as we tumbled into the hallway, the flames roaring just behind us.
We hit the floor hard, rolling awkwardly across the wooden boards, smoke and the acrid smell of burnt hair filling my nostrils. For a moment, everything was soundless except for the lingering, high-pitched whine that rang in my ears. Then the chaos came rushing in.
Screams tore through the air. The pounding of feet echoed from the floors below, the clash of steel ringing faintly over the relentless roar of flames. The Pavilion was alive with carnage, the walls crackling as they began to give way.
Even as I became aware of it all, however, it felt distant. Muted. As if everything—the heat, the fire, the screams—played out as if in a movie. As if in a game.
Trait Activated: Detached PoV
Grade: Foundation
See the world from a Player’s perspective. Sufficient damage will break this stance and put it on cooldown.
Cooldown: 8 hours
The entire screen flickered as the stinging pain of my burns registered, sharp and immediate. I winced, the trait stabilized, and the pain faded into something distant—present, but dull. Like background noise in a busy room. How much pain would I be in if this thing fully broke?
I didn’t feel like finding out.
Mei coughed underneath me, her breath rattling against the thick, smoke-laden air. The heat clung to everything like a suffocating blanket. I peeled myself off her, my limbs unsteady but functional, just in time to hear heavy, uneven footsteps stumble out of the wrecked room behind us.
Bi Han.
His clothes were smoldering, the fabric scorched and torn. Skin peeled away in raw patches where the flames had licked too close. Part of his hair was gone, leaving charred stubble in its place, and blood ran in thin, sharp lines down his sooty face. He staggered to a stop, swaying slightly as his eyes found mine.
He’d taken the explosion better than I’d expected. Better than either of us could have, at least. Had we still been in that room, we would have been nothing but ash.
“What did you do?” he roared, his voice raw and jagged, like splintered wood dragged over stone. Pain wove through every syllable. No matter how much Qi he was circulating to remain standing, it wasn’t enough to dull the wounds etched into his body. He must’ve felt every single one.
"I did nothing," I said, the words leaving my lips with an eerie distance. It was strange hearing my own voice under Detached PoV. It wasn’t quite mine, but it wasn’t Liang’s either. It felt like listening to a stranger—someone close enough to mimic my thoughts but distant enough to chill me. "This is the reckoning event for allowing a member of the Feng family to get assassinated under your roof."
"But you’re still alive…" Mei rasped, her voice rough with smoke as she struggled to her feet. Her eyes were clouded with confusion and prickly tears, and I couldn’t blame her. If I hadn’t resigned myself to the impossibility of this—a game world made real—I’d probably look the same.
"I’m trying to figure out that part, too," I said, brushing ash from my sleeves. The truth sat heavy in my chest, half-formed and restless. Indeed, this wasn’t a plotline I’d ever played through, and it felt like staring into a riddle without a single piece of the answer. "Seems your little ‘Nao’ friend slipping away has sped things up a bit. They are already here."
Or maybe it was my fault. My careless words. The fact that I was alive.
Too many moving pieces, too little knowledge. All I had were scraps—faint memories of this moment as it had played out in the game. I knew the ending, at least: Mei would survive. I wouldn’t. And she’d carry the weight of this night with her for the rest of her life.
New Objective: Fate Breaker
Survive the Resplendent Harmony Festival.
Yeah, that doesn’t help…
"Sped what up?" Mei snapped, her glare sharp enough to cut. The heat pressed in around us, the flames roaring behind her. A charred beam cracked and fell with a crash, sending embers scattering through the air. That wasn’t normal fire. The searing intensity licked at her back, but she didn’t so much as flinch.
She needed answers. And Liang—bless his smug arrogance—had already made it impossible for me to feign ignorance.
"Who are they?" she demanded, stepping closer.
Her words hung in the air like a drawn blade.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
"Wu family," I almost said. But that wasn’t right. A rival sect? The demonic faction? The answer danced just out of reach, tantalizing but elusive. In my hesitation, the quip came almost instinctively—like the idle voice line of an NPC, detached and flippant. "You tell me, information broker."
Even with Detached PoV buffering the edges of my fear, I could feel Liang Feng lurking somewhere just beneath the surface, his mocking tone seeping into mine. He was always there, wasn’t he? Smirking, needling, whispering from the shadows of my own thoughts.
At the corner of my eye, the manager shifted, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade. The faint scrape of steel against its sheath sent a prickle of unease down my spine. For a breath, I braced myself, half-expecting my head to go rolling across the floor.
Instead, his voice came, raw and strained—not the bellow of a warrior but the frayed plea of a man pushed to his limits. "Miss, we can’t—"
"I know," Mei interrupted, her words as sharp as the blade that’d slipped into her hand. She didn’t look at him, though. Not once. Her eyes stayed locked on me, unblinking and unyielding, as if she could pin me in place through sheer force of will.
"Rally everyone," she ordered, her voice low and commanding, a steel edge lurking beneath the smoke-roughened tone. "Figure out what’s going on. Meet me downstairs."
The manager hesitated, his stance shifting ever so slightly, as if torn between protest and obedience. But in the end, he gave a stiff nod and turned, his footsteps fading into the chaos beyond.
"And you," Mei said, her focus never wavering. The blade in her hand gleamed in the flickering firelight as it leveled at my chest. "You are not going anywhere that I can’t see you."
Temporary Party Formed.
Mei Faolang
Combat: ★☆☆☆☆
Support: ★★☆☆☆
Surveillance: ★★☆☆☆
Special Abilities: Unavailable
I swallowed hard, half-aware of the smirk tugging at my lips—Liang’s smirk, or mine? It didn’t matter. The sword didn’t tremble. Neither did she.
"Wouldn’t dream of it," I said, my voice smooth enough to hide the fact that I was already calculating the fastest route to the nearest exit.
----------------------------------------
She was right at my heels as we descended toward the second floor, our pace urgent but steady. For once, Liang’s usual arrogance didn’t bubble to the surface to slow me down. No leisurely sauntering through this burning chaos, thank the heavens. If Mei hadn’t stabbed me for it, the fire surely would’ve finished the job.
The heat pressed in from all directions, wrapping around us like a living thing, fierce and suffocating. Each breath was a battle, my lungs raw from the smoke that’d made the luxurious hallways into an unrecognizable haze. The once-pristine décor was reduced to ash and flickering shadows, the space heavy with choking blur. I bent low, squinting against the stinging smoke, just barely able to make out the shapes of others moving through the chaos.
They were everywhere—confused figures stumbling out of rooms, their panicked movements no more than hazy silhouettes against the glowing backdrop of flame. Their voices were muted to my ears, distant and indistinct, lost in the roar of the fire. They didn’t look much better off than I was, their faces pale, their robes half-singed, their steps faltering as they struggled to understand what was happening.
Mei, however, didn’t falter. Her voice cut through the noise like the crack of a whip, sharp and commanding as she shouted to each figure we passed. "Get to the stairs! Move! Get outside now!" Her tone left no room for hesitation, and she didn’t pause to see if they obeyed. There was a resolve in her, unshaken by the flames or the chaos.
Impressive as it was, it wasn’t necessarily what I would’ve done. A small, callous voice whispered in the back of my mind, pointing out how the other guests’ frantic movements slowed us down, how the crush of panicked bodies blocked the stairs and ate away at the precious seconds we didn’t have to spare. I could see the calculations as clearly as I could see the spreading flames: less time for them meant more time for us.
But Mei didn’t share such thoughts. She kept yelling, kept pushing them forward, and I kept following.
Behind us, the fire consumed everything with terrifying speed. Whatever unnatural thing fueled those flames, it devoured the walls like paper. The moment we’d left the third floor behind, I’d glanced back just in time to see the stairway collapse into a fiery abyss. Any thought of retreat vanished with it. There would be no second chances if we made a wrong move.
Ahead, the first floor loomed, but the noise that reached us now weren’t comforting. The screams and cries weren’t just panic anymore; there was something sharper to them—anger, hostility. The sound of a scuffle broke through the crackling of the flames, voices raised in argument, rough and volatile. Whatever waited for us down there, it wasn’t safety. It wasn’t salvation.
And it was the only way out.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Bi Han’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. It carried through the smoke and rising heat, reaching us as clearly as a blade’s edge. He’d moved faster than either of us could follow, to confront whatever madness had rooted itself at the heart of this inferno. One we would soon learn of, too.
We reached the second-floor landing, and the scene below unfolded like a tableau. From our vantage, we could see most of the main hall. Guests, courtesans, and servants stood frozen in a confused, desperate throng. Smoke curled above their heads, and though the fire wasn’t yet as fierce on the ground floor, the steady groan of strained wood and snapping beams would have told them what was coming. The building wouldn’t last much longer.
Yet none of them ran. None of them even moved.
They couldn’t.
The entrance was blocked. A line of soldiers, their armor dark and gleaming in the firelight, stood at the doors like a wall of steel. The sight was unnatural, almost surreal against the chaos surrounding them. They were unhurried, unpanicked, and utterly immovable.
“Imperial soldiers?” Mei murmured at my side. Her voice carried a thread of disbelief that I felt too, though I only shook my head. I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene below, my stomach knotting tighter with every second.
One of the soldiers stepped forward. He didn’t need to shout. His voice was soft but carried a weight that reached every corner of the hall, cold and deliberate, creeping like frost over an open grave.
“Gonghe River Pavilion,” he began, each word as precise as a knife thrust, “you are accused of the murder of Liang Feng, a beloved son of the Feng Merchant Clan. Bring us his corpse, or share his burning grave.”
The knot in my stomach unraveled into something colder, heavier, darker. My unease grew teeth, sinking into me with a grim certainty.
“We need to get away from here,” I murmured, tugging at Mei’s arm. “Fast, before they—”
But Mei wasn’t listening. She stood firm, rooted to the floor like an ancient tree in a storm. Her expression was sharp, her lips pressed into a line of unyielding fury. I could see the fire in her eyes, brighter than the flames consuming the building above us.
I might have admired her resolve if it weren’t about to get us killed.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, trying again to pull her back, but she wrenched free.
Mei’s voice cut through the chaos like the crack of a whip. “What do you fools think you’re doing? I don’t know what madness drove you here, but you’re risking everyone’s lives by blocking the doors like that!” Her words carried the righteous anger of someone convinced she was addressing imperial soldiers, men bound by laws and oaths.
She didn’t realize these men were bound by something far colder.
“And move,” she added, with the kind of threat only a truly infuriated Mei could muster, “before I make you. Liang Feng isn’t dead. He’s right—”
I grabbed for her, but too late. Far too late.
The soldiers turned as one. Their movements were not the slow pivot of men startled by a sudden voice. Their heads snapped toward us like metal to a lodestone. The way they moved—the perfect unity, the eerie stillness—made my skin crawl. I couldn’t see their faces from here, but I could feel their gazes, empty and predatory, boring into us.
The silence stretched, unbearably taut.
Then the leader stepped forward, his voice carrying the chill of a blade drawn in darkness. “Bring me their corpses.”
It wasn’t a request. It was a death sentence.
Warning!
You have been cursed by a Death Mark.
Enemies will indiscriminately target you for the next 30 minutes.