Chapter 27: Shen Ce Under the Influence of Silos

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Shen Ce Influenced by Cyris

Before Shen Ce finished speaking, he raised his staff high and cast a stunning spell straight at the head of the Golden-Eyed White Bear. A luminous white glow enveloped the bear, and its gaze grew vacant; the blood-red hue in its pupils slowly faded, leaving it dazed and unfocused, as if it had lost all sense of direction.

Those around exchanged glances, realizing the bear could no longer go berserk. They unleashed their most powerful techniques in unison, and Shen Ce, after casting the stunning spell, joined their ranks.

“Heaven-Splitting Slash!”

“Night-Fire Blaze!”

“Earth Sword Arts!”

One attack after another struck the bear’s body. It let out a deafening roar, its chest torn open with several gruesome wounds, blood pouring out in a horrific display.

The Golden-Eyed White Bear twisted and writhed, howling in agony. Unable to see properly due to Shen Ce’s spell, it charged blindly, its wild movements terrifying everyone into retreating, none daring to face it head-on.

A male mage, too slow to dodge, was suddenly grabbed by the bear’s powerful claws. He screamed in pain as the beast hurled him high into the air with all its strength. Unlike Shen Ce, this mage hadn’t set his pain threshold low; he gasped heavily, the sound of his bones breaking causing everyone present to start in alarm.

Yet, the bear’s ferocity was but a dying burst of energy. Shen Ce, Han Qisha, and the others knew this well. Ranged attackers launched a second wave of lethal strikes.

Han Qisha swiftly drew a feathered arrow from his quiver, pulled the bowstring taut, and with a sharp whistle, sent it flying like lightning. In a heartbeat, it buried itself deep into an already exposed wound on the bear’s chest.

The bear raged and tried to lunge at the players, blood spraying everywhere—a terrifying sight. Meanwhile, Shen Ce’s Light Barrier had cooled down. He cast another wall of light at the bear and followed with Thunderlight Break, translucent purple lightning flashing above the bear’s head with formidable power.

Soon, the bear let out a final, unwilling roar, and in the next instant, it became a translucent shadow, then vanished without a trace—even its blood-stained fur was gone.

With the demise of their leader, the other beasts faltered; everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Shen Ce and Han Qisha assisted another group in slaying the Earth Dragon, and the remaining monsters weakened further, their low attack power barely worth mention. The members of the “Divine Ones” guild held out a little longer before the system announced their victory.

Han Qisha and the other main attackers of “Divine Ones” were surrounded and celebrated as heroes, everyone gazing at them in admiration. Shen Ce, an outsider, quietly stepped away before the crowd could gather around him. When Han Qisha noticed Shen Ce was gone, his smile paused for two seconds as he scanned the area, but he was soon swept up by the crowd, unable to spare more thought for Shen Ce amid the clamorous celebrations.

Leaving the throng behind, Shen Ce slowed his pace. After nearly three hours of battle, his mental strength was depleted. The sunlight was gentle, not harsh; Shen Ce squinted upward and was startled to see a silver-robed figure standing atop the tower—an otherworldly presence.

That person looked down indifferently at the aftermath of the battle below. The silver mask gleamed brightly in the sunlight, scattering gem-like rays. The wind occasionally lifted his silver cloak, lending him an air of mysterious remoteness.

Cyris—when had he appeared there?

Though Shen Ce was some distance away, he could still make out Cyris’ attire. He was certain he hadn’t mistaken him. Shen Ce glanced back at the crowd, who remained engrossed in their victory, oblivious to Cyris’ presence.

Turning back, Shen Ce found the solitary figure atop the tower had vanished. It had only been a few seconds—was it just his exhaustion playing tricks on him?

Unconsciously gripping his staff, Shen Ce lowered his head in thought. Suddenly a shadow fell across him; Shen Ce looked up abruptly and saw a silver mask before him.

Estimating the distance from the tower to here, Shen Ce shivered involuntarily. Such unnaturally swift movement—could even an assassin teleport so powerfully?

Shen Ce was so distracted by Cyris’ uncanny agility that he didn’t notice how close they had come, almost to an ambiguous degree.

“You performed earlier…” Shen Ce waited for him to finish, but heard nothing. He looked at Cyris in surprise, seeing the other’s calm gaze fixed on him.

“Not bad,” Cyris said, his voice low and resonant, unmoving brows and eyes. Yet those deep, tranquil black eyes seemed always to tempt others into falling, like a wild peony blooming at the edge of a cliff—everyone knows reaching for it is perilous, but still cannot resist the urge.

The unexpected praise left Shen Ce stunned for several seconds. Realizing Cyris referred to his performance in the city defense battle, Shen Ce fell silent for a moment.

He was used to critiquing others, but now the roles were reversed. Cyris’ lofty attitude made his praise feel like a rare honor.

Suddenly, Shen Ce understood how Shui Linglong must have felt when he commented on her gameplay. He adjusted his mood and nodded, unsure what else to say.

A gurgling sound came from Shen Ce’s stomach at that inopportune moment. Both he and Cyris were caught off guard.

Shen Ce cursed the game developers for making everything so realistic. He hadn’t realized that, standing next to Cyris, he became inexplicably irritable, losing his usual composure.

After nearly three hours of intense combat, Shen Ce’s hunger level had naturally soared. Embarrassed, he pulled out some bread from his inventory. Cyris glanced at the dry bread, his gaze flickering. His tone was calm yet commanding: “Come eat with me.”

Before Shen Ce could respond, Cyris seized his left arm. A pale light flashed, and both vanished from their previous spot.

Teleportation again! And double teleportation!

Shen Ce gazed at the manor before him, momentarily lost. Misty grass, dense woods, and a stately old castle stood tall—the scene like something out of a fairy tale.

Cyris walked to the manor’s gate, inserted an ancient bronze key, and opened the heavy door with a deep sound. Seeing Shen Ce still standing silently behind, Cyris gestured for him to come in. Shen Ce’s eye twitched imperceptibly as he followed Cyris inside. As soon as he entered, the system chimed.

“Ding—Congratulations on returning home with your partner. Affection increased by 2. Wishing you everlasting union.”

The affection notification, long absent, appeared again, and Shen Ce and Cyris exchanged surprised glances.

An elderly butler and two young women in uniform appeared swiftly, as if summoned by an invisible signal.

“Welcome home, masters,” they said, bowing deeply in perfect unison despite their different voices.

Shen Ce was relieved they didn’t use any odd titles like “madam.”

Cyris glanced over the butler and maids, his voice calm but carrying a subtle authority: “Prepare a meal quickly.”

“Yes, master,” the butler replied, leaving with the maids.

This time, Shen Ce and Cyris dined at the long table as before, but instead of sitting at opposite ends, they took adjacent seats. Half an hour later, the maids brought an array of dishes and tea.

Shen Ce was still unaccustomed to dining so closely with Cyris. The meal threatened to be as dull as their last wedding banquet, when Cyris suddenly placed a delicate pastry on Shen Ce’s silver plate.

Puzzled, Shen Ce looked up from the pastry to Cyris. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating Cyris’ sharply defined profile.

Cyris spoke with an unhurried, matter-of-fact tone: “You eat too little.”

The oppressive air in the room dissipated, replaced by a subtle, ambiguous tension.

Shen Ce raised his eyelids. This remark caught him even more off guard than the earlier praise. He moved his lips, unsure what to say.

Did Cyris mean something more by that?

In that moment, Shen Ce realized how easily his emotions were swayed by Cyris. After the initial shock, he calmed himself, paused for two seconds, and said, “Thank you.” Then he took the pastry and ate it.