Standing mere inches from Berry, William felt a cold, jagged conflict clawing at his chest. Her face was youthful, flushed with the heat of her indignation, and utterly devoid of the shadows he expected to see. In his past life, the name "Berry Long" was synonymous with a tragedy that had shaken the very foundations of the Novistic Kingdom.
According to the history books—and the whispered rumours that haunted the Academy's halls for decades—this girl would be dead in less than a month.
The record stated that she would wander into the depths of the Blessing Forest and take her own life, driven to a terminal depression by her two-year stagnation at the ninety-nine-point bottleneck.
It was an incident that sparked a diplomatic firestorm between the Long Clan and the Academy, ending in blood and bitter recriminations.
William gazed up at her, his mind reeling. In his previous life, he was a nobody, yet he remembered the few times their paths had crossed.
Each time, without fail, this "High Angel" of the Long Clan had intervened to protect him from bullies. She possessed a legendary kindness, a pure heart that refused to look down on those society deemed trash.
But as he observed her now, he frowned. There was no aura of a suicidal depressive clinging to her. Her spirit energy, though congested, pulsed with a steady, fiery confidence. Her posture was that of a warrior, not a victim.
Something is wrong, he thought, a chill settling in his marrow. The timeline says she dies in weeks, but the spirit doesn't lie. She isn't giving up. So why did she "commit suicide"?
"Don't overestimate yourself!" Ganin's roar shattered William's train of thought. The young master's face was a violent shade of crimson, his pride wounded by Berry's dismissive tone. "If not for your grandfather's shadow, who would even look at you? You're a broken tool, Berry! A defective genius!"
"Let's go," Berry said, her voice like cooling iron. She didn't even grant Ganin the courtesy of a glance. She stepped forward, her hand still resting lightly on William's shoulder. "We are late for our business. I don't have time to entertain the barking of lizards."
"A loser's business is always a failure," Ganin spat, his voice dropping into a low, mocking drawl. He signalled his group to part, allowing them a narrow, insulting passage through the centre of the pack. "Mark my words, porter... and you, girl. The heavens will never show mercy to those deemed unworthy!"
The words hit William like a physical blow.
His footsteps faltered. He snapped his head back, his eyes boring into Ganin with a sharp, predatory intensity that made the older boy blink in momentary confusion.
"Keep walking," Berry whispered urgently, her grip tightening on his arm. She misinterpreted his reaction as the impulsive anger of a bullied child. "Keep walking, or do you want to die by their hands? He's just trying to bait you."
But William wasn't angry. He was terrified—not of Ganin, but of the implications.
That sentence—The heavens will never show mercy to those deemed unworthy—wasn't just an insult. It was a liturgical phrase. It was the signature greeting of the Order of the Eclipse, the cabal of spirit master traitors who had paved the way for the Nine-Tailed Fox's invasion in his past life.
William's mind raced back to the teachings of his master. He had learned the bitter truth of the Great Fall: monsters were formidable, but they could never have dismantled human civilisation from the outside. The walls were thick, and the spirit masters were many. The destruction of the world had been an inside job.
There was a group of humans who had sold their souls to the monster lords in exchange for forbidden power and a seat at the table of the new world order. His master had called them the Dark Serpents, but William had always preferred a simpler, more visceral title: The Traitors.
No matter where William had encountered those traitors in his past life, they always spat out that same, wretched phrase. His master had once explained that those words were the cornerstone of their twisted ideology—the fundamental justification they used to rationalise the betrayal of their own kind.
The heavens will never show mercy to those deemed unworthy! The phrase echoed in William's mind like a death knell. Damn it! I never expected to run into one of those snakes the moment I came back!
He took a long, steadying breath, forcing his features into a mask of calm while mentally marking Ganin's name in blood. In the internal ledger of his mind, the boy was no longer just a bully; he was a potential agent of the apocalypse.
"Thanks for the help back there," William said softly after they had walked for several minutes, putting a safe distance between themselves and the group of bronzed disciples.
He spoke with genuine sincerity. His master's voice often echoed in his head: Treat your enemies with wrath, but never fail to show gratitude toward those who are kind.
"You are truly insane to stand against Guanin like that," Berry said, rolling her eyes, though there was a hint of lingering concern in her voice. She adjusted her grip on her robes before shooting him a sharp, inquisitive look. "What are you doing here anyway? Is there actually someone waiting for your help, or was that just a desperate lie?"
William knew she didn't believe his story any more than Guanin had. It was logical—no one hunting monsters in the Blessing Forest at midnight would have any use for a porter with twelve spirit points.
Yet, despite her suspicion, she had treated him with a dignity that Ganin couldn't fathom. She could have walked past him and let the lizard family tear him apart, but she hadn't.
"I'm going to hunt monsters inside," he said, his voice flat and honest.
Berry stopped walking and shook her head, a small, weary sigh escaping her lips. "If you don't want to tell me the truth, at least don't give me such an obvious lie. You'll get yourself killed before the moon sets."
She looked at him with a gaze that held no malice, only a strange, older-sisterly protective streak. "Anyway, stay safe and don't put yourself in danger. This forest isn't a place for someone like you, alright?"
William looked at her, momentarily speechless. He had told her the absolute truth, yet because it was so improbable, she had dismissed it as a clumsy cover story. Despite that, her warning was sincere.
He felt a rare spark of warmth in his chest. In the harsh, meritocratic world of spirit masters, people who genuinely cared for the well-being of a "failure" were as rare as celestial jade. Berry reminded him of his master—someone who saw value where the rest of the world saw only trash.
"Thanks for your advice," William said. He hesitated, then decided to probe deeper. If he was going to prevent the "suicide" that was slated to happen in less than thirty days, he needed to understand the mechanics of her failure.
A girl with an innate power of eighty-eight and a Fire Dragon Soul should have shattered a ninety-nine-point bottleneck in her sleep. "May I ask you something?"
"What? Don't tell me you also want to be my boyfriend!" She threw her head back and laughed, but the sound was hollow. Underneath the humour, William could hear a tinge of profound bitterness, a dark shadow that had clearly been looming over her heart for a long time.
"Well, it might be a sensitive topic like that," William said. Berry's expression immediately hardened, her eyes flashing with a fierce, warning glare. He raised his hands quickly. "But it's not the same thing. I'm not asking for your hand."
"Then ask," she demanded, her face settling into a neutral mask that gave away nothing.
William stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave as he took on the tone of the master he once was. "I want to know more about what Guanin mentioned back there. That bottleneck of yours... what exactly is wrong with you?"