Turtling

"Way to go! Look alive. Don't lose face!" Just like excuses such as "He's just a kid," "It's New Year's," or "We're already here," the lines used to stoke the flames had remained largely the same since antiquity, varying only slightly in phrasing. No matter how deferential the speaker's tone, how humble their attitude, or how submissive their posture, the underlying message was always the same: *Charge in already! What are you waiting for?* *You're not chickening out, are you?* *If you don't dare fight, just say so. Don't make it look like I'm forcing your hand.* At this moment, within the dim, cavernous hall flanked by solemn, hideous reliefs and colossal pillars, the throne atop the dais was shrouded in an almost tangible darkness, concealing even the features of the figure seated upon it. Yet in this instant, a gaze as palpable as physical matter cast down from the dark toward the steps below, piercing and icy. "This seat does not require pointing and posturing from cowards who hide their heads and show their tails. Whether to wage war or sue for peace is mine alone to decide." The Abyssal Lord spoke indifferently, "If you cannot wait, you may handle it yourself. There is no need to travel thousands of li just to provoke me. Or is it that you are so desperate for a pawn to spearhead the charge for you?" Below the dais, a gaunt, stooped figure kept its head bowed. Its voice was neither distinctly male nor female. Like a monkey, it scratched its ears and cheeks, and as it raised its face, shifting paints of stage makeup revealed a fawning smile—utterly rigid and perfunctory. "Though constrained by identity, preventing me from speaking face-to-face with the Abyssal Lord out in the open, since a covenant has been forged, the Abyssal Lord ought to understand this humble one's heartfelt sincerity." The old monkey said, "At the very least, on the matter of Luo Island, our interests align." "Whether they align is not for you to decide." The Abyssal Lord remained aloof, as if weighing the matter, then suddenly asked, "Can you guarantee that no one else will intervene in this?" The old monkey sighed helplessly. *So you really are turtling this hard? You're truly unwilling to take even the slightest risk, aren't you?* "For a Celestial-Human to put out to sea is not so simple. Several centuries ago, leaving one's fief without an imperial decree was an offense punishable by nine generations of extermination." The old monkey spoke slowly, "Ever since the incident with Lou Suwen last time, Midtown issued reprimands and warnings to Haizhou. With the Xu family watching them, making a move will not be easy for them. "Furthermore, since Ji Jue severed himself from the Seven Cities, the lighthouses of the Seven Cities will not protect him. From without, the baneful winds press close; nearby looms the scourge of the Sea Locusts. Striking now might not be as easy as flipping a hand, but it should unfold as naturally as water carving a channel. "Why must the Abyssal Lord worry so?" *Drop the act!* *As if you're taking such a massive risk!* *You're a Tyrant—are you actually going to the front lines yourself? Even if you did show up, if you couldn't win, couldn't you just run? The Sea Abyss is so deep; tuck yourself away in some forgotten nook and turtle for a while, and could the Federation ever hope to find you?* Life was hard; the old monkey sighed. Nothing could be done. The Abyssal Lord was far too cowardly, far too cautious. If he hadn't truly been backed into a corner where he could no longer turtle, he might well have swallowed the insult! Taking two baffling slaps to the face from Ji Jue could be overlooked—a Tyrant was magnanimous and wouldn't lower himself to bicker over such things. Yet, after Ji Jue seized Luo Island and wiped out the Sukarno family... by some freak coincidence, he ended up sitting right on top of the blood bag the Tyrant had prepared for who knew how many years! Even though he enjoyed the profundity of the boundless Sea Abyss and the adoration and allegiance of the Scaled Ones, ruling the Sea Abyss with absolute authority as a local tyrant behind closed doors, his path as a Tyrant suffered from a fatal flaw: once humans were converted into Scaled Ones, they lost their souls and could no longer reproduce. To maintain his authority and status, he relied on the Sukarno family to continuously deliver fresh living humans for sacrifice and replenishment. Lately, who knew what was happening beneath the Vortex, but the gravitational pull of the Tower was growing closer and stronger. To anchor his position in the mortal realm, an ever-increasing toll of sacrifices was required. On top of that, lunatics like Duke Changle and Duke Anguo—leftovers from the Eternal Empire—were tearing into each other everywhere like madmen, glaring with predatory eyes. It gave the Abyssal Lord an enormous headache and left him completely frazzled. Weighing his options, he had no choice but to reach toward the piggy bank he had nurtured for so many years—only for the dog-fucking Sukarno family to get wiped out right at this critical juncture! And replaced by a craftsman who was countless times more difficult to deal with! In the past, he might have swallowed his pride and endured it. But now, where else could he find a massive income like Luo Island in the short term to plug his deficit? Was he supposed to just give up on life? If he waited until the end of his rope before mounting a desperate last stand, it would be too late! The path of Tianyuan advanced when it was time to advance, and was the path of a Tyrant any different? Sometimes, taking a single step back, falling short by a fraction, or lacking a single measure could send one tumbling into the abyss—such was a Tyrant: wielding limitless power within their domain, yet in truth nothing more than parasites usurping the authority of the Tower. Without a Tyrant, the Tower remained the Tower; without the Tower, a Tyrant was nothing. "It is not yet time," the Abyssal Lord mused, appearing conflicted. "The deficit in human sacrifices is still rather large. Rashly invoking the authority of the Tower carries too high a risk. "Your relentless urging puts this seat in a difficult spot." "If that is the case, then forget it." The old monkey gave a helpless sigh, showing no interest in naming a price or taking the bait. "This humble one is merely an emissary with nothing to his name. Even this body is but an empty shell; squeezing it dry wouldn't yield more than a few drops of grease. I truly cannot be of any help. "If the Abyssal Lord changes his mind another day, simply burn this remnant husk somewhere, and this humble one will return." No sooner had the words left its mouth, before the Abyssal Lord could speak again, the figure raised its hand and slit its own throat. In an instant, the remnant spirit dispersed. The stooped frame collapsed and shattered, several rotting pieces of withered wood spilling out from beneath the gray robe—nothing more than a puppet. And so, amid the silence, the Abyssal Lord's expression darkened further. Those pitch-black pupils gazed beyond the Sea Abyss toward the countless lights of souls from Luo Island, and even toward that newly budding aura of Tianyuan... Already, he was ravenous. Yet the more critical the moment, the more necessary it was to keep his composure! Therefore, he could not rush. Wait. Just wait a little longer! A Tyrant's corruption was imperceptible, subtle and traceless. It was not yet time to strike in earnest. Probe first, probe once more... As long as he remained unhurried, plenty of others would grow anxious. And as for those things that were not human—they would be even more anxious! There was still a beast ahead that had suffered far heavier losses... Since the pressure from the Sea Locusts wasn't enough, then let's raise the stakes for you! The Abyssal Lord closed his eyes. The horns sounded once more. Beneath the pale moonlight, amid increasingly treacherous surges, cold scales gleamed like metal. Beneath the vast ocean, atop an aberrant whale as colossal as a mountain range, a withered merman priest beat a massive drum. Amid the rumbling echoes, vast swaths of pitch-black thunderclouds across the vault of heaven began to creep forward, as if dragged by heavy chains. From all directions came answering horn calls. Herd after herd of schools gathered under the relentless prodding of the merfolk, gnawing at one another without pause as they surged ahead. That vast, endless black tide coalesced upon the Endless Sea and roared forth toward the Seven Cities. Hisses and screeches rose without end. Amid the crashing waves, massive silhouettes raised their heads, shrieking fanatically. At the very vanguard of the innumerable merfolk, among several atavistic flood-dragon breeds, a merman with pitch-black pupils sneered in silence and blew his horn. Guiding the black tide, he charged straight for Luo Island. To reclaim the Holy Spirit of the Sleeping Lord and wash away former hatred and grudges—under the coordination and guidance of the Abyssal Lord, a grand expedition uniting twenty-one merfolk tribes of the western seas officially began. Meanwhile, a foul, rotting downpour once again lashed the perimeter of Luo Island. Viscous minced flesh and bloody water mingled in the deluge. Under the fleeting flash of lightning, floating dead fish covered the surface of the sea, stretching as far as the eye could see. Deeper within the tempest, ear-splitting screeches rose and fell. Lured by an abundance of food, the Sea Locusts had gone completely berserk, massing swarm after swarm to dance wildly in the storm between sky and sea. After prolonged forbearance, they finally launched their general offensive against Luo Island! "Mr. Ji, are you certain you don't require any assistance?" Even before the tide of merfolk arrived, Colonel Peñarosa of the Holy Tree family had already called Ji Jue, taking the initiative to offer aid without naming any price. Yet Ji Jue's response caught him off guard. "Rest assured, the family will by no means use this to—" "Mr. Peñarosa, I have no intention of looking down on the Holy Tree family, nor does this have anything to do with Dancheng or the Seven Cities. I simply believe that I can handle such a trivial matter on my own." Ji Jue told him resolutely, "Luo Island is my property. It does not need to rely on anyone else's help to survive. "That goes for anyone." "I understand." Peñarosa sighed with regret. "I will await your triumphant news in Dancheng." "I wish you victory as well." Ji Jue smiled and hung up. He gazed out the window at the howling tempest. Through curtains of grayish-black rain, all of Luo Island seemed like a lone skiff tossed upon giant waves, fragile and small. Piercing sirens wailed through the city once again. Amid the pouring rain, every street remained brightly lit, with every disaster prevention facility fully activated. Guided by the Paradise system, fleet after fleet of buses ran along various routes, transporting residents from every neighborhood to underground fortifications. Even with catastrophe imminent, no large-scale panic ensued—it was as if they had drilled for this a thousand times before. Within the factory compounds of Coast Industry, under the direction and guidance of Riot Cats, dense crowds queued in long lines, passing verification in orderly fashion before descending the long stairs to the shelters below. Along the way, they collected distributed blankets, bedding, and shelter maps. Once the crowds had fully entered, heavy blast gates slowly descended, sealing the interior from the outside world while soft music drifted from the loudspeakers. Across Luo Island, as gate after gate sealed shut, headcounts and requisition lists were uploaded to Paradise and presented before Ji Jue. Yet preceding even that was a sensation—a perception transcending his physical vessel and consciousness, as though his soul was quietly expanding along an unseen network, blanketing the entirety of Luo Island. Countless tiny specks of light seemed to flow in accordance with established decrees and regulations, dancing across his fingertips, ready to be manipulated, deployed, and ordered at his whim. Everything seemed under control. Every obstacle felt trivial. As long as this power rested in his grasp, he was virtually omnipotent. The sweetness of authority welled in his chest, only to dissipate without a trace a moment later. From start to finish, Ji Jue never reached out his hand. He merely bore witness in silence as it all operated naturally, occurring spontaneously. It converged around him as a matter of course, lifting him to the peak just as naturally. Never had he undergone such a contradictory experience: feeling simultaneously bound by countless shackles and soaring through the heavens, heavily burdened yet weightless. His spine grew faintly hot. The dormant [Heavenly Constitution] within the Foundation of Chixiao seemed to respond, vibrating slightly. Under the pressing crisis looming from the outside world, the Law of Tianyuan that had been gestating for so long finally revealed a glimmer of itself. What followed were countless distant voices that felt like hallucinations—faint and drifting, male or female, young or old, like murmurs arriving from every corner. "Can I sleep for a bit? So sleepy... Where's the food... What are they doing now, what a mess... Baby formula... Wonder how long this rain's going to last... Grab more food, free stuff is free stuff, I'll go ask for two more packs of dried meat later... These biscuits taste terrible... Smells awful, gotta find a place to take a shower... Bad things always happen whenever it rains... The kid's crying again, so annoying... Just end already... End it... It's still raining... Want to go home... Stop raining..." Under the integration of the Law of Tianyuan, countless faint glimmers seemed to coalesce into a single whole. Those tiny, fragmented voices merged like an ocean, rising from within as a shared wish and longing. Fear, annoyance, repulsion, resistance—all swirled together, pointing toward the heavens pouring relentless rain. Like a resounding cry: *Stop raining!* And so, Ji Jue smiled. "Fine, then stop—" He raised his hand, but the motion froze midair. He hadn't even had the chance to fully reach out... Long before he could, the downpour from the heavens halted abruptly! It stopped. [Heavenly Constitution] flashed like a sword strike. An imperceptible ray of faint light swept effortlessly across the sky, cutting through the torrents of rain. The severed curtain of rain hung suspended midair like a broken beaded curtain. An instant later, the downpour vanished. A rift tore open in the overcast clouds out of nothingness, and starlight and moonlight cascaded down like a waterfall, pouring into the turbulent realm between sea and sky. Amid the tempestuous waves, a tranquil sanctuary was carved out. Upon the Foundation of Chixiao, that fleeting glimmer silently dissolved, leaving behind a subtle, lingering comprehension echoing in Ji Jue's mind. *Place my heart within Tianyuan.* *Through the will of the people, interfere with the cycle of heavenly principles!* *Why then would one even need to lift a finger?* *Even altering the heavens and the earth is nothing more than a single thought...* Yet imagination was magnificent, while reality was lean. By sheer coincidence, he had merely caught an echo of less than one ten-thousandth of the former sword mark of Chixiao. It had been far too fleeting; Ji Jue felt as if he only half-understood, grasping the shadow without the substance. As myriad phenomena shifted and epochs passed, with his current meager stature, reviving that former lofty splendor was ultimately beyond reach for now. Once the brief stillness shattered, what echoed from the distance was a thunderous rumble like a collapsing mountain. Spurred by the blare of conch horns across the distance, the boundless sea roared. Ink-black surges rose out of nothing, sweeping recklessly across the ocean, converging and swelling ever higher until a ten-thousand-zhang wall of iron seemed to erupt from the surface, churning forward toward the shores close at hand! He watched the waves draw near inch by inch, rising ever taller, until finally, beneath a dim sliver of moonlight, they became an immense curtain engulfing sea and sky, overshadowing all and blanketing everything. All things were rendered as insignificant as dust. Nowhere to run. This time, the craftsman finally raised his hand.