Role Playing the Dark Horse Character

Chapter 62: Weakness

With his words, in the crimson-tinted sky, a golden halo rose from the top of the main hall, forming a pillar of light that rapidly expanded outward.

The ground trembled, debris and dust, gold and red, filling the space.

Outside the window, the range of the two abilities grew, seemingly boundless.

It was the power of S-ranks, each alone capable of destroying a small city like Four-Way City. And now, at the center of the event, two had appeared.

Two S-ranks.

Like a colossal beast, anyone before it seemed laughably futile, like a mantis trying to stop a chariot.

Yiming looked up, the ceiling above him cracking under the onslaught of rampant red threads.

He’s right, he thought.

This time, too, he could do nothing.

He said he’d help Li escape, said he’d protect Li, but in the end, the only one protected was himself.

Just his weak self.

A sense of powerlessness seeped into his bones, choking his breath.

“Boom!”

The ceiling of the top floor and this level collapsed together, stone slabs falling between him and the youth ahead.

The falling debris squeezed the corridor’s space, as if filling the void in his vision, obscuring the black-haired youth who walked on alone, that unpausing back.

Until he was completely out of sight.

Beyond the piled stone slabs, the blue pendant earring swayed, its glow flickering faintly among the black hair.

Then it was tightly gripped in the palm of a hand wearing fingerless gloves.

The blue glow vanished, suppressed in the palm, trapped under unyielding strength.

The black-haired youth raised his hand, his crimson gaze lowering slightly, looking at his clenched fist, as if staring at the light trapped within.

That cold, icy face suddenly broke into a faint smile.

The corners of his mouth curved upward, the smile deepening, the chill in his eyes gradually dissipating.

His face transformed, the ice melting, becoming bold, unrestrained, without a hint of hesitation.

Then he lowered his hand.

The black-haired youth walked on, as if passing through an intangible, invisible threshold, casting aside the tightly wrapped loneliness.

His black hair fluttered in the stirred breeze, and on his face, glinting specks formed a silver-white mask, covering his left crimson eye.

“Getting involved too soon will get you killed.”

A low, magnetic voice sounded in the trembling corridor, so soft it seemed afraid to disturb something.

The youth opened his hand, smiling, speaking to no one in particular. “Right?”

The blue pendant was gone.

…

Minutes earlier, in the main hall of the Yue residence.

The absence of the banquet’s host, Yue Qing, didn’t hinder Qu Yan’s actions.

He ascended the staircase to the second-floor platform, facing the nobles below under the chandelier and clearing his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon.” He stood behind the platform’s railing, one hand emerging from beneath his cape, performing a noble’s formal greeting. “I’ve invited you all here today to view my collection.”

He drew a nutrient tank from beneath his cape, the same size as the one he’d shown at the square that morning.

But the head inside was different.

“Former Ability Guild, Sharpshooter.”

He set the nutrient tank down on the table before him, gleaming orange-red under the lights, and took out another.

“Former Ability Guild, Hypnotist.”

Another.

“Former Ability Guild, Iron Warrior.”

His movements didn’t stop.

“Former Ability Guild, Beast Tamer.”

…

Until nine heads were lined up on the table, he finally took out the last, shaking it in the air as if to let those below see clearly.

Then he placed it at the center.

“Former Ability Guild’s spiritual leader, Prophet.”

Here, he named none of them by their true names, only using vague, ethereal titles.

Because to him, that didn’t matter.

The nobles below began murmuring.

Those who had seen the Former Ability Guild six years ago knew what these heads represented.

An era that could have toppled the empire.

An Heyu looked up at the row of skulls, seemingly relieved that Heige wasn’t there.

But then, he noticed Qu Yan glance at him.

An Heyu’s left hand, hanging at his side, clenched slightly.

“But this isn’t just about showing you these beautiful heads,” Qu Yan said after completing his display.

He brought up the midday clash himself. “You’ve all heard about what happened at noon, I presume. Did you think I came here for Heige? No, a mere commoner like Heige isn’t worth my trip to this backwater, though he did bring me some surprises.”

On the platform, Qu Yan spoke, his gaze falling on the youth below who stood tall, pride seemingly etched into his bones.

At the same time, An Heyu’s pupils trembled slightly.

He realized something was about to happen, something beyond his predictions.

Qu Yan looked at him, wearing a lofty, pitying expression. “The only one worth my journey from Floating City is you, Scavenger.”

As his words fell, red erupted from beneath his long robe!

He had made his move, right here!

Dense red threads shot upward, then in an instant pierced through nearly everyone present!

Only An Heyu, also S-rank, dodged, but when he turned to look around, his golden pupils widened.

Before his eyes, the bodies of the pierced nobles exploded.

Like blooming fireworks.

Blood splattered through the air, forming a thin mist.

Then it swiftly merged into Qu Yan’s ability blood threads, strengthening them.

Like writhing bloodsuckers.

And at that moment, An Heyu spoke.

He looked at Qu Yan on the platform, who watched him with a mocking gaze.

His expression remained proud and reserved, but his tone had chilled. “You’re admitting to what you did at the An clan that night four years ago.”

An Heyu had considered whether Qu Yan would target him, but he’d overestimated the man’s bottom line.

He should have paid attention—why would the ever-mysterious Qu Yan expose his ability in broad daylight? But he’d assumed Heige had provoked him, that Qu Yan, humiliated by the beheading, had acted impulsively to reclaim his pride.

But that wasn’t the case. Qu Yan had planned the fate of everyone present from the very start.

Everyone was to die—the spectating nobles and every commoner in Four-Way City.

“Admit it? And what can you do about it?” Qu Yan mocked.

“Necromantic Prelude can only control relatively intact corpses,” Qu Yan said, raising his chin, looking down at An Heyu below. “Without corpses to command, you’re nothing.”

Before his words finished, his S-rank ability surged, red threads bursting through the ceiling, their range expanding as if to engulf all of Four-Way City.

The clear blue sky was stained red.

Then, the red threads descended from this ominous hue, swift as lightning.

In that instant, everyone in the city saw the anomaly falling from the sky!

In the Ability Guild’s Bounty Hall, the slightly chubby Le Caille poked his head out from inside.

Outside the Ability Guild, Yi Xiangnan, walking on the street, looked up.

At Tide’s Four-Way City stronghold, Momo and Youyou, still lingering in the city, held hands, hiding under an eave, watching the dark red sky.

In the commoner residential area, He Shasha, on leave at her parents’ home, pushed open a window, seeing the red rapidly spreading from afar.

In the suburbs, a vagrant lying on the ground stared motionlessly at the red swiftly covering the horizon.

The entire city’s sky was blanketed in red.

And by now, the Yue residence, closest to the ability’s origin, had been destroyed by the red threads!

The building collapsed, the main hall’s ceiling nearly gone.

Sunlight streamed inside, but it was a red glow.

Behind Qu Yan, the red blood seemed to coalesce into a pair of wings.

The red threads fell like lightning, targeting An Heyu, standing amidst the rubble.

“You should’ve died four years ago, but it’s not too late now,” Qu Yan said, looking down at him.

“Scavenger.”

In that instant, a golden halo expanded, a domain-type ability claiming full control over the space within its field!

A figure instantly appeared before the red-haired youth, its body transforming to block the blood threads’ attack!

At the same time, the undead An Heyu had collected over the years moved under his command, appearing within his domain.

This was his ability, his capital, his accumulated strength.

But in this critical moment, the red-haired youth instinctively turned his head, looking elsewhere.

As if searching for his brother’s location.

The corpse shielding him was struck by the red threads, exploding like the guests after being pierced.

The blood of the dead no longer flowed, but Qu Yan’s ability could strike the ability’s user directly through their ability.

Due to Necromantic Prelude’s unique nature, he couldn’t attack An Heyu directly this way, but any undead hit would be destroyed!

And Qu Yan wouldn’t leave him any undead to command—these were finite resources.

After that moment of distraction, An Heyu forced down his impulses, staring intently at Qu Yan.

“I’m S-rank too,” he said, his noble pride seeming to counter Qu Yan’s belittling. “Same rank—can you really kill me?”

His undead fought for him under his control!

As his words fell, twenty undead with varied faces appeared in the ruins.

In an instant, a dazzling array of abilities unleashed in the space, An Heyu’s undead freely shifting positions within his privileged domain, surrounding Qu Yan.

Blood threads danced, piercing rapidly through the flickering undead.

“Crack!”

A blood thread grazed an undead’s ability, and another undead exploded.

An ability’s sharp spike pierced Qu Yan’s body, severing his arm.

But the next moment, blood threads wriggled at the wound, reconnecting the arm to his body.

The undead were dwindling.

And at that moment, Qu Yan suddenly turned his head, as if looking at something.

Then he said, “Your non-ability brother.”

In an instant, An Heyu instinctively followed his gaze, spotting a flash of red entering the artificial hill.

Huyu?!

Red threads densely stabbed toward the hill.

With barely time to think, several undead vanished from the encirclement, reappearing before the hill, using their bodies to block the advancing threads.

The undead exploded, and at the same time, An Heyu realized.

Heige wasn’t there!

But it was too late.

The red threads at Qu Yan’s side spread like a sea urchin’s shell, piercing the nearby undead in An Heyu’s moment of distraction.

And Qu Yan gave An Heyu no time.

The red threads, like an unbreakable net, surged forward, closing in on him!

In that moment, An Heyu’s golden pupils seemed to forget the blood net about to kill him, recalling instead a morning a few days ago.

The black-haired youth with a silver-white mask slowly stood, his crimson eyes looking at him, saying, “This path is only for those without weaknesses.”

Heige was right, An Heyu thought.

An Huyu was his weakness, his only brother, his last blood relative in this world.

More than anyone, he wanted him to grow up healthy and happy, not mired in grief like himself.

But what had he done?

Protect him? No, that wasn’t protection!

It was bringing disaster upon Huyu!

Just like now, because of Necromantic Prelude, Qu Yan had come to Four-Way City, intent on destroying an entire city.

He was only harming his brother.

“Farewell, Scavenger,” Qu Yan said disdainfully.

In that instant, the blood net descended, covering those golden eyes in red.

Blood sprayed.

But it was from above.

Purple-red hair was lifted by a hand in fingerless gloves, gently raised.

The black-haired youth with a silver-white mask narrowed his crimson pupils, curled his lips, and, holding Qu Yan’s severed head, slowly walked past from behind him.

The long boots stepped on the ground, unhurried.

The person turned, crimson eyes looking down at the stunned An Heyu.

“Well, looks like I arrived just in time?” Li Li chuckled lightly.