Where's My Bone?

The trial was over; the verdict had been executed. Han Qingyu did not look back. Turning his back to the crowd, he walked forward, accompanied by the great spear and the iron armor. The closing battle formation of Stream Vanguard parted before him like flowing water. Behind him was a death of a thousand cuts. This was, of course, a trial. The footage captured on-site would record everything—the evidence was rock-solid and irrefutable. It was just that now, they no longer needed to place their hopes on anyone else to grant them fairness and justice. Throughout these three years and more of twists and turns, what they had endured and what they had exposed culminated here. The trial they had refused to accept three years ago was carried out by their own hands three years later. "Then, these people..." Howard finally recovered from the massive shock. He turned around, but his words trailed off halfway. Speaking had been out of habit. Only after opening his mouth did he realize that how to handle the remaining captives here was no longer something Azure had either the authority or the face to decide. "Take them, and send them to Antarctica," Wen Jifei said. More than two thousand captives remained, the vast majority of them peripheral private soldiers. All of them would be handed over to Azure and sent to the battlefield in Antarctica to redeem themselves with their lives or the blades in their hands. In truth, deep down, Wen Jifei really wanted to add, "Leave everything behind," or, "Don't you dare touch our stuff, or I'll kill you." Because the "wealth" Alphonse had amassed from decades of running this place was likely vast beyond imagination. Just the dead iron in the underground city alone was staggering. At the same time, because this was a fixed exploration site, there was no need to worry about a lack of Great Spike airships arriving in the future either. *Still, there's probably no need for that,* Wen Jifei thought, taking their public image into consideration a bit on such a grand occasion. The site was not yet suitable for immediate garrisoning; it required further mopping up, searching, and organizing. They led two thousand fighters outside to pitch camp and rendezvous with the logistics units, leaving eight thousand behind to cordon off the area and guard the "wealth." In truth, Han Qingyu also wanted to maintain his image. After all, it was a gathering before so many people... otherwise, he wouldn't have kept walking forward while acting cool just now. However, he genuinely couldn't hold out any longer, especially after that final burst of power. "Qingzi... Qingzi, what's wrong?" In the middle of the parted formation, Han Qingyu's footsteps suddenly halted. His body swayed slightly. Rusty Sister hurried over and asked worriedly from behind him. "I..." Han Qingyu mumbled in a low voice, turning around with difficulty. "I can't walk anymore. I think I'm about to faint." With that—*clunk!* His drooping forehead knocked against her armored shoulder. Seen this way, it looked as if he were snuggling up against Rusty Sister. "..." The soldiers on both sides of the formation froze in unison. They all knew a young girl was inside the iron armor, and during their days on the ship, they often bantered and played around together. However, the vast majority of them had no idea that Rusty Sister was physically unable to leave the armor; in private, they had assumed she simply didn't want to show her face in public. So what was this? Did The King want a hug after finishing his fight? After staring blankly for two seconds, the soldiers exchanged glances... and silently sheathed their blades, silently turning around, either looking up at the sky or gazing into the distance. *Oh dear, what should I do?* Rusty Sister thought, then called in a small voice, "Qingzi, Qingzi, did you faint?" "Not yet, but soon," Han Qingyu said. "Then, should I carry you?" Rusty Sister lowered her stance, looking ready to scoop him up in a bridal carry. "No, no way," Han Qingyu said weakly yet frantically. "Call for a stretcher." ...The stretcher arrived, but wasn't set down on the ground. Rusty Sister scooped him up in her arms and gently laid him onto it. ... Night fell over the outskirts of the Third Fixed Exploration Site. Raging bonfires burned among the densely clustered military tents of Stream Vanguard. Inside one of the tents in the central area, nearly everyone from the core group was present, except for Han Qingyu. He Tangtang sat dully on a small stool. He Tangtang had recounted everything that had occurred in the center of the underground city right after returning. Zhe Qiuhong had just finished a comprehensive examination of him and asked numerous questions; now, her pen was rustling swiftly across the paper as she took notes. "The key right now is, what do you think yourself, Tangtang?" Wen Jifei walked over and asked. He Tangtang turned to look at him, his gaze sincere. "I want to be badass." "I know." Everyone present had witnessed Alphonse's strength. That was the fifth rank on the Dome Leaderboard, an entity who had once pushed Han Qingyu to the brink of despair. He Tangtang had obtained his Yanxiu; once he matured, he could definitely become the world's most terrifying kidney attacker. "I want to be badass. I want to take back that greatsword from Ye Jian's hands myself, and I want to smash you guys back and forth..." He Tangtang's gaze shifted one by one across Wu Xu, Wen Jifei, and Rusty Sister. "Can't you think of something external? Like chopping Great Spikes," Wen Jifei asked. "I can, but for now this is what I want most." He Tangtang paused, then said, "But I'm really scared of turning into someone like Alphonse." At this moment, his eyes were filled with anticipation yet rife with worry. Comrade He Tangtang was now someone who had slaughtered the fifth rank of the Dome Leaderboard—the most glorious battle record in all of Stream Vanguard belonged to him. However, his own combat strength had still not broken through to the top tier, and the Yanxiu will was currently dormant due to weakness. All in all, for now, he felt nothing out of the ordinary. Still, the characteristics of this Yanxiu were plain to see, and they had all heard about its flaws directly from Alphonse's mouth. "Its characteristics and flaws are likely unchangeable," Zhe Qiuhong said, looking up. All eyes turned to her. "Furthermore, I suspect that the Yanxiu will itself possesses a personality, and this will's disposition will undoubtedly influence the inheritor's personality." "..." He Tangtang said, "Then I don't want it anymore." "Don't panic just yet. I only said it has an influence, but that influence shouldn't be decisive. Just like how Han the Green Snake is unnaturally cold-blooded, cruel, and cunning in every fight, it doesn't dictate his baseline personality... For instance, you can't blame his shameless greed and heartless thirst for dead iron on the Yanxiu." In truth, Han Qingyu did have some decent character traits, and those seemed to be the real proof that he wasn't completely swayed by the Yanxiu. But Zhe Qiuhong didn't feel like mentioning them. "Besides, someone being a wooden block like Wu Xu probably can't all be blamed on the Yanxiu either," she continued. "So that means I'll be fine?" He Tangtang asked, excited and expectant. "There is an issue. This Yanxiu is a bit strange." "..." "Because humanity knows very little about Yanxiu, and research is practically nonexistent, I can only deduce backward from historical threads and observable phenomena. And the conclusion of that deduction..." The conclusion Zhe Qiuhong offered was: The vast majority—if not 99.9%—of the Yanxiu wills in this world would likely never transfer voluntarily after the death of their inheritor. They might perish along with them or return to a dormant state of pure will, but they would never do what happened today: transferring directly into an enemy's body. The basis for this judgment was simple: if this sort of transfer were commonplace, humanity would have identified the existence of Yanxiu wills much earlier. It would have even caused a sensation, triggering large-scale slaughters among powerhouses and geniuses to seize them. Yet throughout history, that had never happened. "So either something is genuinely wrong with this Yanxiu," Zhe Qiuhong paused, then said, "or it has something to do with the fact that that green caterpillar was present." *It's related to Qingzi?* Rusty Sister asked curiously and expectantly, "Why?" "Because... if Yanxiu wills are divided by strength—and I believe they are—I can assure you that the Yanxiu will Han the Green Caterpillar inherited is powerful. Incredibly powerful. And don't forget, he..." Zhe Qiuhong stopped here, turned her head to confirm the Little Prince wasn't around, before continuing, "Don't forget, he is also in a state of having already fused with a portion of the relic bone." At that moment, in another military tent, Han Qingyu lay on a cot, wrapped in bandages from head to toe. A figure stood beside the cot, holding a blade leveled at his throat. "Hey! Han Qingyu! Qing... Han Qinglou, Han Qingchong..." "Hmm?" Han Qingyu cracked his eyes open slightly, looking at the Little Prince. "Where's my bone?" "I... ate it."