Sylvester weighed the walnut-sized black sphere in his palm, turning it against the sunlight.
No ray passed through it, yet if one looked closely, faint multicolored ripples seemed to crawl within.
So, this is that so-called "chromatic black."
After toying with it a moment, he turned. "Mr. Dan Heng. I know your past has caused… complications for your present life. This object can indeed help you—at the very least, free you from a part of those complications."
Qingque, dutifully noting down the new Curio, glanced once at Dan Heng and Sylvester—then lowered her head again. This tragedy ran too deep; she had no place to speak.
Stelle and March 7th frowned. They had heard whispers of the High-Cloud Quintet's calamity, but what mattered more to them was that Dan Heng was a Nameless, not just a man of the Xianzhou.
This [Orb of IX] claimed to sever the past—but from Sylvester's expression and tone, it was hardly a harmless trinket.
Both were worried that Dan Heng might… do something foolish.
Stelle, just in case, discreetly tightened her grip on her reinforced bat—the one modified to inflict stun.
Dan Heng, don't worry. The moment you lose control, I'll save you. With this bat. By cracking it across the back of your skull. Then we'll shove you into March's exoskeleton, set it to "pretzel twist mode," and you'll be perfectly safe.
Dan Heng accepted the orb again, silent. He stared at Sylvester with a calmness that dwarfed his companions'. Not even a flicker of anxiety showed in his eyes.
He was waiting.
Sylvester continued: "The [Orb of IX] is a weapon, forged with the Aeon of Nihility's core power. Its sole method of attack—nihility itself. When activated, it nullifies a spherical space ten meters across. Though the range is small, within it lies absolute, genuine void."
His voice grew heavier with each word. "Inside that sphere, even the immortality of a Vidyadhara collapses—meaning, there's no rebirth. The blessings of Abundance falter—so, no restoration. Even the Reignbow Arbiter's Lux Arrows dissolve like snow. Space itself vanishes. And whatever warped time-space follows… none can predict it."
"But what is certain is this: any living being caught inside meets one end. Death. True death. Unless they can resist the very concept of an Aeon—there is no survival."
"What?!" March 7th bolted upright before Dan Heng could speak, nearly shouting. "Dan Heng! You're not gonna use something like that, right?"
She hurried to his side, panic written across her face. Dan Heng remained expressionless, but March 7th's hands fluttered helplessly, not knowing what to do.
Behind him, Stelle quietly stepped closer, bat raised, hesitation flickering in her eyes. Do I swing now?
Feeling the chill of her presence at his back, Dan Heng finally stirred, glancing between March and Stelle. His silence was tinged with exasperation.
At this rate, I'm about to become the victim of a mugging.
He sighed, helpless. "I never said I'd use it. Even if I wanted to sever ties with my past, I wouldn't do it by erasing myself—now and forever."
"See? That's more like it!" March 7th's face lit up instantly. She bobbed her head, beaming. "Better to live on than to die. No matter how tough, no matter how lost—we should eat well, laugh loud, and greet every day with joy. That's the spirit of a Nameless Trailblazer!"
Stelle gave a small nod, as if in agreement, though she still didn't lower her bat. Her instincts whispered: Dan Heng is crafty. What if these are just sweet words, and he sneaks off later to smack that orb on his own face? No. Stay vigilant.
If Dan Heng knew her thoughts, even his composure would shatter. He would roar: "You're the one scheming your own death! What kind of twisted logic is that?!"
Still, the heavy mood at last eased.
"Eh? But if that's the case, then this orb is… useless?" March 7th, relieved, turned her curiosity back to Sylvester. "You said it could at least help get rid of some troubles. What did you mean? Half-dead, half-alive?"
She tapped her head, puzzled. "Half-trouble gone, half-trouble stays?"
"March." Dan Heng was at a loss for words.
In just minutes, his companions had spun wild scenarios: suicide, ambush with a bat, and now some bizarre half-death torture.
He realized this life might be no easier than the last.
Still… having companions like these—perhaps that is my blessing.
"Of course not." Sylvester chuckled at last. His bond with Dan Heng wasn't deep, but he certainly had no desire to watch him destroy himself—especially not with something drawn from his own shop.
Dan Heng's refusal was a relief.
Still, Sylvester intended one more safeguard—not for Dan Heng, but for another man.
"Who said you had to use it on yourself? It's a weapon. Weapons are meant for enemies. Think—who threatens you most, who haunts you like a shadow? Hurl this at them, and much of your burden vanishes."
"An enemy… who is also tied to Dan Heng's troubles…" Stelle tapped her chin, pondering. One name loomed. But did that man truly deserve death?
"You mean—the Stellaron Hunter who was captured in the Xianzhou, then escaped?"
March 7th blinked. Though her contact with Kafka and Blade was brief, she knew enough of Dan Heng's plight. Instantly she thought of his so-called "nemesis."
Yes—that man was frighteningly strong. An undying existence. And he clung to Dan Heng like tar, unyielding until death.
This choice… might actually be the right one.
She nearly voiced it—only to see both Dan Heng and Stelle deep in identical silence.
Huh? What's this? Did I out-think them both this time? Heh! This genius March strikes again!
But their expressions nagged at her.
Wait… no. They're hiding something from me, aren't they? If I'd blurted that out, I'd have been embarrassed to death.
At length, Dan Heng raised his head, fixing Sylvester with a steady gaze.
"What are you really saying? You know the High-Cloud Quintet and you want me to change the ending. So why suggest this?"
"You must know as well—Blade, too, was once someone from the High-Cloud Quintet."