Chapter 106: And You?

Flesh was dug out; the joints of his fingers, probing deeper bit by bit, were stained a vivid red. Spiritual power barely sustained his life, allowing his finger pads to successfully touch the burning Demonic Seed.

In the original work, in the unaltered world-line, he had his heart brutally gouged out by a demonic cultivator. The Demonic Seed was ripped out along with the mangled flesh of his heart; naturally, he died. Now, as he dug out the seed himself, even a cultivator of the highest level could not guarantee a precise extraction in one go.

Fortunately, Vane possessed an exceptional understanding of the human body and internal organs. Fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead; one drop slid along his temple and cheek, trailing down his jawline. Aside from more blood overflowing from the corners of his mouth, the youth's expression did not change in the slightest.

Zora lifted her eyes, her gaze following that drop of sweat. After it vanished into his damp collar, she shifted her focus to the blood-soaked fabric of his chest.

The closer he got to the heart, the more difficult it became. His spiritual power was recovering slowly, moving in fits and starts. The faint, sticky sound of flesh being parted echoed occasionally. Breathing caused a tugging sensation in his lungs, and her presence made his heart act out of turn, thumping violently. His fingertips could feel that fierce, drumming pulse.

Therefore, the pain intensified; his heart felt as if it were slowly shifting with each beat. He had to be cautious, extremely cautious. Yet Zora had no sense of caretaking whatsoever, even choosing to speak to him: "That demonic cultivator wanted the Demonic Seed. What use is it?"

"..."

The youth adjusted his breathing imperceptibly before lifting his eyes to look at her. A drop of sweat fell onto his right eye, caught by his long, straight lashes. Zora watched and, with blunt directness, reached out to press down on it. Vane was forced to close his right eye.

Beneath the eyelid, the youth’s eyeball felt soft and elastic as it remained still. Zora wiped away the sweat and released her hand. Vane was very quiet, watching her with a lowered gaze. Zora propped up her chin, waiting for his answer.

After a moment, Vane averted his gaze and lowered his head to continue slowly groping for the Demonic Seed inside him. He paused, then spoke softly: "Because—"

As soon as he spoke, bone-deep pain radiated from his internal organs. His words halted, then he continued: "They believe the Demonic Seed can be used by them."

Just as he finished, his knuckles suddenly curved, and a muffled groan escaped his lips uncontrollably. His hand pulled away from his chest, bringing with it a small piece of mangled flesh he had accidentally snagged. Under the nourishment of his spiritual power, the wound began to repair itself rapidly. Without external threats, the youth’s spiritual power grew quickly, filling his meridians. The gushing wound at least healed on the surface, while the interior continued to mend.

Zora looked at his palm.

Vane’s storage bag had been confiscated. He used a spell to create some clear water, washing the Demonic Seed clean. Those tiny bits of flesh were soon washed into the stone crevices of the floor, vanishing from sight.

It looks like an ordinary purple bead,

Zora thought.

She poked it with her hand, making the purple bead roll in his palm.

Zora: "Not very useful."

Vane’s lips were deathly pale. Hearing this, he said: "Just as a Sword Bone can only be used by one born with it, once it is gouged out, it is merely a piece of ordinary bone."

Once the Demonic Seed left its host, it withered rapidly, turning into an ordinary purple bead. Zora had no particular feeling for the color purple and didn't find the bead beautiful. Having satisfied her curiosity, she stood up and walked outside.

Vane had not fully recovered. He wanted to stand and follow her but lacked the strength. A single movement tugged at his internal injuries; his breathing faltered for a second before he quickly steadied it. ...Right, he had deceived her. He was a person of the Demon Realm. The fact that Zora hadn't punished him immediately was already a sign of her tolerance.

Vane watched her back, his mind blank. He felt a strange cowardice, not even daring to call out. After a long time, he recalled that kiss; only then did a sliver of security return, and his chaotic thoughts cleared slightly as he realized she had gone to check the demonic cultivator's corpse.

Just as he thought this, he saw Zora, who had just left, return. She didn't enter, only poking her head into the cave entrance to glance at him. After confirming once more that he wouldn't suddenly die, she turned and left again.

Vane blinked.

Zora was indeed checking on the demonic cultivator.

She remembered that many people wanted the Demonic Seed—wave after wave of them. It was likely a poorly managed organization. In the original plot, after Turi Qi and Wanghua-jun entered the Demon Realm, they had fought with people from that group.

It seemed to be called something like the Immortal-Slaying Pavilion... but the original hadn't described the scale or location of the organization. It was just a minor element, showing that the early villain Vane was killed and then exited the plot. In the modified world-line, the organization's name hadn't even appeared; it was likely wiped out by the surviving Vane.

The corpse was cleanly decapitated. Fearing complications, Zora had not held back her spiritual power. She looked at the headless body, then at the head that had just rolled away.

—By the way, where was the head?

Zora turned her head toward a patch of withered weeds. There was a rustling sound; someone seemed to be approaching. A very thin child parted the weeds. Upon seeing Zora, his eyes widened in surprise and he stopped immediately. Seeing him stop, several companions behind him also hid warily, not daring to show themselves.

Unfortunately, in Zora's eyes, it was a futile effort.

She stared at the child in silence.

"..."

"..."

The child's stick-like legs were completely stiff.

Zora continued to watch because he was also watching her.

The child didn't dare move rashly. In the Demon Realm, children who had not yet grown up were the most endangered. Without an adult’s protection, they would certainly be captured and sold to demons who enjoyed human flesh. But they also had to come out to forage from a young age, at least to scavenge some edible things.

He had seen a fresh corpse and wanted to take it back secretly to trade for food. But a small child couldn't drag a whole body; he could only take the head first and then call his partners to help move the torso. Who would have thought he’d encounter a person—a person who was perfectly clean? Anyone knew that a clean person was the most to be feared.

The child held out for a moment, wondering why she didn't move or speak. In the midst of the stalemate, a starving man suddenly appeared. Seeing several children and a girl with pale, smooth skin, he immediately began to salivate. He was so hungry his head was spinning, and he had lost all reason.

"Such luck..." his voice was raspy. He stumbled toward them, a blood-scented blade in his hand.

Before the children could even run, a tiny flash of light flickered. The man was frozen, his expression still caught in greed. His head slid off, the cross-section of his neck perfectly neat. A fountain of blood dyed the withered grass red.

Zora sheathed her sword and returned to the stunned child. She spoke: "Is the head with you?"

The child’s mouth opened, wanting to lie but fearing her anger. One person behind him spoke up first: "No! We... we didn't steal that person's head."

Zora nodded and ignored them. She squatted down and flipped the headless corpse over and back again like a salted fish.

...That... was it? The group remained in a daze, unable to believe the person who had just taken a life with one strike was so easy to fool. Once they snapped out of it, they fled quickly without looking back.

Only the lead child from before turned to steal one last look at her. Her attire... was very different. Not like people from the Northern or Southern Realms.

Zora followed the traces of demonic Qi and found some clues. On the back of the corpse, a demonic sigil was carved, trailing someone else's demonic Qi—it seemed to be a mark. Zora memorized the pattern and then dispersed the wisp of demonic Qi. There were no other useful items on the headless body; Zora flipped it casually and then tossed it aside.

She returned to the cave. Upon entering, she met the youth’s dark eyes. He seemed to have been waiting the whole time; only when he truly saw her return did his brow relax.

Zora walked to his side: "How long until we can leave?"

Vane regained his senses: "I only need one day to fully recover."

He just needed to pull out the Soul-Bone Nails one by one; it would be quick.

The youth added: "...I'm sorry."

"For what?" Zora sat beside him. It was strange; he looked like he was about to die, yet his body was still warmer than an ordinary person's, like a piece of warm jade. Zora hugged her knees and sat a bit closer, leaning against him.

Vane paused before speaking slowly: "I deceived you. I am a person of the Demon Realm."

Having just suffered severe injuries, his face was pale. His eyes, as they watched her, leaked an extremely fragile emotion, like a piteous dog with its tail and ears drooping.

"Oh."

"..."

Zora thought for a moment and said: "You indeed deceived me, but the Master-Servant Oath did not react. That means you didn't intend to harm me."

Vane didn't feel that this was some sort of immunity card: "But I still deceived you."

"True." Zora nodded in agreement.

"...I should be punished."

"Indeed."

Having said "Indeed," Zora closed her mouth and didn't mention the punishment. She was thinking about the original work, trying to remember the intelligence regarding the Demon Realm clearly. Vane leaned against the stone wall, silent for a long time. His lashes lowered and trembled.

What is she thinking about now?

And why doesn't she care about his identity as a person from the Demon Realm?

...Right. Zora did not distinguish between good and evil; naturally, she wouldn't care about the Demon Realm versus the cultivation world. What she cared about was which side she was on and who her enemies were. And as long as he didn't turn demonic, it was impossible for him to stand in opposition to her.

Vane lifted his eyes just as Zora finished her thoughts and turned her head to look at him. She seemed to have forgotten the previous conversation—or rather, she hadn't cared about it at all.

Zora stared at his face, her eyes wide. Their arms were touching, and their legs were pressed together; they were very close. When she turned to stare, Vane could see her lashes and pupils with absolute clarity. Vane met her gaze for a while, unable to stop himself from looking away, then looking back again uncontrollably.

He suddenly asked: "...Why just now... kiss me?"

He paused, then added: "You should have punished me."

He clearly should have asked,

Do you not care about my deception?

What will you do next?

He was a criminal; it was impossible to return to the December Sect.

How will you proceed?

...And why did you come to the Demon Realm?

But instead, he asked the most "irrelevant" question.

Zora thought about it and said honestly: "I wanted to kiss, so I did."

Vane watched her quietly for a long time.

"...I see."

He understood her subtle sentiments. Perhaps Zora was naturally incapable of loving others deeply, so her tiny bit of affection was so prominent—enough to make one feel overwhelmed by favor, and precious beyond measure.

The atmosphere fell silent.

Zora was waiting for his wounds to heal so they could go out and find those people from the Immortal-Slaying Pavilion, lest those people refuse to believe the Demonic Seed was useless and come looking for them. Having the enemy in the dark while she was in the light was a hassle. Moreover, she had come to the Demon Realm specifically for those enemies hiding in the shadows.

After a while, Zora suddenly heard the youth's calm voice: "What about now?"

Zora turned her head: "What?"

The rims of Vane’s ears were deep red, yet he showed no sign of constraint on the surface. His face was incredibly calm, as if he were asking a simple question.

"...Now, do you still want to kiss me?"

Zora stared at him, suddenly recalling the successful conquest. She couldn't help but ask back curiously: "And you?"

Vane: "...What?"

What exactly did "conquest success" represent? If it meant he loved her, what changes were there?

While thinking, Zora said: "Do you want to be kissed by me?"

"..."

After a long silence—Vane was so brilliant he naturally knew what to say and when—but now his brain went blank for an instant. He opened his mouth, yet instinctively did not lie.

"...I suppose, I do."

He had no more secrets; he no longer had to hide anything before her. A corner of his habitual suppression had loosened. Or rather, her actions had forcibly pried that corner open. He knew she might have a slight liking for him, but he was ultimately uneasy and lacked a sense of security. Her liking was so shallow and precious; he always feared losing it, so every step he took was cautious.

Zora nodded in realization and answered his previous question seriously.

"Right now, I’m feeling just okay. I don't know about later."

She was very earnest. The corners of Vane’s lips lifted slightly, and he gave a soft laugh. His nerves were throbbing—perhaps as a side effect of digging out the Demonic Seed, or for some other reason. Even the pain of his wounds felt like a reward, making it impossible to feel even a hint of displeasure.

"I see."

The nights in the Demon Realm were exceptionally cold.

Waiting for him to recover was too boring. Vane removed the Soul-Bone Nails one by one—another bloody scene. After finishing, the youth slipped into a semi-conscious state from exhaustion.

He won't die,

Zora concluded. Then, looking at the blood flowing over his body, she reached out and pressed her hand against his arm. Her cold palm met the sticky blood.

It's warm,

Zora thought.

His blood was truly suitable for warmth; that was something she had realized since their first meeting.

It was getting cold in the cave. A cultivator wouldn't freeze to death, but she was naturally cold-natured and hated the cold; she always preferred external heat sources, just as she habitually slept.

Zora hugged the unconscious Vane, resting her head on his shoulder. The warm blood flowed onto her arm and neck, staining her sleeves and collar. Vivid red was imprinted on the cheek she rested against him. The gushing blood seemed to surround her, constantly giving her warmth.

His body was a furnace. The spiritual power mending his wounds was dispersing unconsciously, ensuring the damp cold could not catch up to the heat of their contact.

During this time, the youth's lashes trembled once as if he were about to wake up, but in the end, he remained in the posture of letting her hold him, never opening his eyes.

Zora, as if holding a piece of radiant warm jade, fell asleep in a warm and pleasant state.