NOVEL WEB Chapter 616: Passenger Princess
Xiang Yu and Peng Xiu were the last two to survive the trial. The Overseer adopted them both. She saw in them a strength, a ruthlessness he admired.
Xiang Yu, with his quiet dedication, built the city, a loyal soldier and son to the woman who had stolen his youth. He also treated Peng Xiu like the sister he never had, a bond forged in the fires of the arena.
But the Overseer was a master of observation, and she saw what Xiang Yu could not. She saw the cold glint in Peng Xiu's eyes when she looked at her "brother." She saw the hunger for power, the desire to be the only one. She knew Peng Xiu wanted Xiang Yu gone, and she did nothing to stop her. After all, a little competition made for a stronger survivor.
lt was a dog-eat-dog world, and if Xiang Yu was too soft to see the truth, then that was his destiny. Funny enough, Kira didn't know that same fate was coming for her, a cold dish served by Peng Xiu herself.
Peng Xiu had moved behind the scenes like a phantom. She had swayed the council, whispered in their ears, and manipulated their fears. The votes were in: Xiang Yu would replace Peng Xiu for the marriage.
A sacrifice, a pawn in a larger game. Xiang Yu, believing he was protecting his sister, had agreed without a second thought. But his mission failed. He had been left for dead, a broken man tossed aside by the very people he had served.
The original Xiang Yu had given enough. He had bled for a city that didn't deserve him, for people who were ungrateful. He wasn't going to help them rebuild. Not anymore.
The older man, his face etched with worry lines, pleaded with him. "Please, Xiang Yu. The city needs you... Your people need you?"
Xiang Yu's voice was firm, resolute. "I have no ties to the city. Don't bother asking."
The old man tried to grab his arm but Han Xin blocked him with a ferocity unseen in this world. It was as though if he so much as thought of Xiang Yu he would be skinned alive by those ferocious eyes.
Han Xin's grip on Xiang Yu's wrist was gentle but firm. "You heard him," he said to the old man, his voice a low rumble. "Now get lost."
The older man backed away, fear etched on his face. What was he even thinking coming here to provoke this big bhudda? Did he not want his life anymore?
Han Xin turned to his team. "Let's head out." The team moved with a practiced efficiency. Lian and Mei, their faces alight with a mixture of excitement and relief, scrambled into the back seat of their car.
Xiang Yu settled into the passenger seat, seeming so relaxed like the perfect passenger princess, while Han Xin took the wheel. The other vehicles followed suit, engines rumbling to life.
Soon, the convoy was moving, a line of imposing vehicles leaving the city behind. The citizens watched them go, a mix of fear and respect in their eyes. No one dared to get in their way. Xiang Yu and his team were gone, leaving the city to face its own demons.
***
The Divine Emperor stood before the Soul-Tormenting Mirror, its obsidian surface swirling with spectral light. His posture was regal, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders squared with the weight of centuries.
The white and gold robe he wore shimmered like moonlight on still water, its silken folds embroidered with celestial dragons and phoenixes in thread spun from starlight. Each movement sent ripples of gold dancing across the fabric, as though the garment itself breathed with divine power.
His silver-grey hair cascaded down his back in a waterfall of light, the top half gathered into a precise half updo, secured by a crown wrought from pure gold. The crown was no mere ornament, it was a circlet of authority, etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly, resonating with the Emperor's formidable qi.
His aura was suffocating, a storm held in perfect stillness. The air around him trembled, as if the world itself dared not speak in his presence. His expression was carved from ice, eyes like twin blades, lips pressed into a line that had never known mercy. He gazed into the mirror not with interest, but with the cold detachment of one who had long since mastered his own demons.
For a long time, he did not speak. He merely observed the figure hidden in the darkness, his hands still folded behind his back, his expression unreadable. The weight of his presence pressed against the glass, and the Demon King, for all his bravado, faltered. His breath hitched.
"How long are you going to pretend like you can't see me?" the Emperor's voice boomed, echoing through the empty hall.
Within its depths, a constellation of light slowly coalesced, forming the repaired soul of the Demon King of the North. It was a fragmented, delicate thing, but it was whole again.
Hidden in the darkness, he Demon King sneered, though the effort made his lips tremble. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" he rasped, voice laced with venom and weariness. His eyes still burning with the remnants of infernal fire locked onto the Divine Emperor's cold gaze.
The the mirror pulsed once, then stilled. From its depths emerged a figure; tall, proud, and unmistakably broken. The Demon King of the North materialised in the reflection, his once-magnificent presence now a shadow of its former glory. His face, though still striking in its symmetry and sharpness, bore the pallor of decay.
Sickly white skin stretched over high cheekbones, and black creaks, like veins of obsidian, snaked up his neck and across his cheeks, a cruel testament to the corruption that gnawed at him from within.
His horns, once symbols of dominion and fear, had grown brittle with time and torment. One was shattered, reduced to a jagged stub that barely protruded from his crown. The other curved weakly, dulled and splintered. Yet he stood tall, shoulders squared, chin lifted in defiance. Pride clung to him like a dying flame.
"You are going to act like you don't know?" the Emperor scoffed.
A dry, cracked laugh burst from the mirror, a sound like ancient parchment crumbling. The Demon King's voice, a gravelly whisper, emerged from the mirth. "Aren't you the all-knowing divine being? The favoured one? The one who can destroy an entire universe with a single breath?" The questions came in a rapid-fire barrage, but the Divine Emperor remained unmoved, his expression as cold and impassive as a glacier.
The laughter died away, replaced by a sudden, chilling seriousness. "It will cost you," the Demon King said, his voice a low hiss.
The Emperor sneered. The Demon King was right, in a way. The Emperor's power was unimaginable, but he had his limits. He couldn't simply destroy on a whim, or he would be no different from the demons he despised. But what truly frustrated him was his inability to see the Demon King's plans.
He should have been able to, yet the past was a blank slate. Someone was helping the demon cover his tracks otherwise his son wouldn't be in this situation. It had to be one of the high-ranking immortals, one of those traitors. Or perhaps, a more powerful entity, one he didn't know existed, was hiding from him. The thought made his blood burn in rage.