Chapter 68: Blood and Bone

"Captain! We're back!!"

Just as the atmosphere had grown increasingly awkward, Chen Lan waved vigorously at Su Qingfeng from not far away, his face lit up with a broad smile. Beside him stood another young man, who yawned lazily, looking as if he might fall asleep at any moment.

"Is Wanye's injury alright?"

Su Qingfeng looked the languid youth up and down, his gaze lingering with some confusion on the bandages wrapped tightly around his ears. With the medical team's skill, how could there be a wound they couldn't heal?

"This guy insisted that he had to have his ears bandaged, otherwise people wouldn't know he'd been wounded. He pestered the doctor until they wrapped him up like some kind of nut."

Chen Lan spread his hands with an expression full of regret—though whether he was lamenting his teammate's questionable intellect or regretting not thinking of it himself before was unclear.

"This time it was my carelessness. I didn't expect the enemy to have psionic bullets."

Wanye's face was sullen. Psionic bullets were developed to target aberrations, but in practice, they only killed some lower-level ones, while they were actually more harmful to ability users and Controllers.

"As long as you survived. The casualties in this mission..."

A flicker of sorrow passed through Su Qingfeng’s eyes, but it was quickly masked by the brilliance of the noonday sun. He shook his head and did not continue.

"Let me introduce you—this is Shadow, a freshman who just enrolled this year. If it weren't for him breaking the cult's arrangement, we might all have died on this mission."

"Hello, hello, hello!"

Chen Lan darted forward, grabbing Mu Yu's hand and shaking it up and down, gratitude written all over his face. Death, after all, was still something to fear—if he died, he couldn't play video games anymore, could he? He was looking forward to the upcoming major release of Blade Bullet this year.

Mu Yu was a bit overwhelmed by such enthusiasm and could only nod stiffly. This reaction allowed Su Qingfeng to finally relax his tense muscles. After all, as a Controller, it paid to be cautious.

"You two go on ahead. I still need to take him to his dormitory."

After Wanye had solemnly expressed his thanks, Su Qingfeng spoke up, making no mention of Mu Yu joining their dormitory. Controllers were always allocated single rooms.

It was not discrimination, but rather respect and protection. Because ability users improved slowly and steadily, sharing a dorm with a small squad helped foster teamwork. For Controllers, however, living alone was better for their mental stability.

Wanye squinted at Mu Yu's odd attire and Su Qingfeng’s subtle reserve, then nodded and hauled the still-reluctant Chen Lan, who had his arm slung around Mu Yu’s shoulders, off in the opposite direction.

"Remember to come find me for a game sometime!"

Chen Lan didn’t care that his friend was dragging him by the collar. He turned back, calling out to Mu Yu, reluctant to part.

"Don’t mind him—Chen Lan’s just like that. Whenever he has time, he’s looking for people to play games with."

Su Qingfeng explained with a wry smile. Mu Yu didn’t take it to heart. In fact, he rather liked Chen Lan’s personality. If they'd met elsewhere, perhaps they could have become good friends.

But to hide his identity, Mu Yu subconsciously changed certain habits and behaviors.

"It's nothing."

A low, mechanical voice issued from beneath the mask, stiff and cold.

……………………………………………………………………………………

"Headmaster, I need an explanation from you."

A hunched figure sat in a chair, the fragrance of tea swirling before him. Yet he had no interest in savoring it, those withered eyes fixed unblinkingly on the person across from him.

"The vice principal spent a fortune in the secret realm for this rabbit tea, Professor, you must try it. It's a rare treasure, maybe once in a century."

The kindly-faced old man pushed the teacup toward Li Qian, the tea inside bubbling with little rabbits that lifted their heads curiously. In truth, they were only clouds of mist, so lifelike and adorable that one almost couldn’t bear to drink.

Li Qian looked coldly at the ever-smiling old man, but eventually raised the cup and downed it in one gulp. The headmaster was more than twice his age, yet somehow, with his white hair, seemed even more full of vitality than Li Qian himself.

The taste was intensely bitter—so much so that black coffee would seem sweet by comparison. The bitterness seemed to pierce the very soul, numbing the mind, yet afterward came a faint, nourishing sensation to the brain.

Creatures always have ways to protect themselves: such extreme cuteness, such extreme bitterness, meant the rabbit tea had no natural enemies even in the secret realm. If not for its very low reproductive rate, it might already have overrun the world.

Yes, rabbit tea was a plant, yet it reproduced like a mammal—viviparous. Its ancestors had never imagined that a species called humans would devour it to near extinction, ignoring the bitterness for its unique effects on the brain. In the research institutes, it was worth its weight in gold.

"I have some biscuits here—would you care for one?"

The old man eagerly pushed a tray toward Li Qian, but was refused, and could only nibble them himself, biscuit crumbs sticking to his white beard.

"Why didn’t you let the mentors intervene? If they had, there would never have been such heavy casualties."

Li Qian stared at the old man, who was happily eating biscuits, full of confusion. Every year, mentors supervised these missions. Even if there were problems, they could correct them in time. Yet this time, when they tried to act, they were inexplicably trapped, forced to watch as one young life after another was lost before their eyes.

"They shouldn't have died!"

Li Qian could barely contain his anger, slamming his fists on the table, veins bulging at his temples.

"How could you sit here eating biscuits while those children went to their deaths! You—"

He was about to vent his fury when he froze. The old man laid a thin letter before him, sealed with crimson wax.

"A plea for help?"

Li Qian tore it open in disbelief. Before he entered, the old man had sat calmly at his desk, drinking tea and pondering, the letter that should have been treated as urgent just lying there, ignored.

"A call for aid from Lormanto Academy. An unsolvable incident has occurred there, and they've sent pleas for help to academies the world over."

The old man took a sip of tea, savoring the bitterness as if it were a delicacy. He had never opened the letter, but he already knew its contents.

"Two hours ago, all contact with Lormanto ceased. Through satellites and every means at our disposal, all we can see is a placid sea."

The deep red letter slipped from Li Qian’s fingers. His face, as withered as ancient wood, twisted with shock, horror, despair, and a desperate hope that this was merely some outlandish joke.

But the old man only brushed biscuit crumbs from his clothes and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. The noonday sun burned so fiercely it brought tears to the eyes, yet his gaze remained calm and unruffled.

When the letter had reached him, he’d been surprised only for a moment, then arranged for specialists to observe. Unsalvageable events were rare but not unheard of; since the academy's help was sought, things shouldn’t have been utterly out of hand.

But when every nation turned its eyes to that land, all they saw was a tranquil sea, the sunlight dancing on its surface like scattered diamonds.

Birds of every kind circled and cried above the waters, with no land to settle upon, endlessly wheeling in the sky. Their fleeting shadows imprinted themselves on every observer’s heart, casting a pall of silence over the world.

Lormanto—third largest island nation on earth, population 360 million, host to the world’s greatest trading port and richest marine resources. If not for its limited land and mineral wealth, it would have ranked among the world’s leading nations.

Yet such a giant vanished silently beneath the waves. Even those who risked their lives with submersibles found only a seafloor as cleanly cut as if by a blade.

"How—how is that possible? The artifacts in their possession..."

Li Qian’s throat was so dry he could barely speak. He hadn’t had much contact with Lormanto Academy, but he knew they possessed more than one powerful artifact. Even the International Federation would have had to exert itself to destroy such a country.

"We can't find a trace—no change in the sea level, no shift in the monsoon winds. Even the seabirds have begun to migrate."

The headmaster's kindly expression could no longer be maintained. A soul-crushing pressure filled the tiny room, suffocating Li Qian—then vanished as quickly as it had come.

"It’s as if Lormanto never existed in this world."

After a long silence, the old man's voice floated out, so low and mournful it was hard to believe such a tone could issue from someone so optimistic. In all their years working together, Li Qian had never heard it before.

"Li Qian, we can’t wait any longer."

"In the past, we could be headmasters, we could be teachers, and carefully nurture these children. When they made mistakes, we could help them correct them. I even took up a second discipline in adolescent psychology and health for their sake."

"But we cannot deny it: the casualty rate rises every year. On one hand, incidents are increasing. On the other, we all know the real reason—we simply refuse to change. We've taught these children love and responsibility, the meaning of honor and protection, but we've never taught them cruelty."

"But we can’t wait any longer, Li Qian. We are old. The aberrations and the incidents do not age, while our successors still live in honeyed comfort."

"Every night, I wake from nightmares—dreams of the children’s terrified, weeping faces after my death."

The old man spoke openly of his own mortality, fearing only those things heavier than death itself. He turned to face Li Qian, confusion clouding his eyes.

"I hope that when I die, they come to my funeral with blades in hand, to honor me with the blood and bones of our enemies, not with dirges and tears. I hope they march forward over the bodies of their comrades, not kneel to pray for passage to the next life."

"Li Qian, we don’t need a legion of children chanting love and honor. We need warriors who are demons—only demons can drive demons back into hell, only demons can protect our nation in this world."