The cleanup mission was finally over.
With a final, decisive thrust, the last wandering Voidranger dissolved into motes of dust under the tip of Dan Heng’s spear.
The erratic energy readings that had plagued the edge zones of the space station gradually stabilized, returning to a placid green.
A message chimed through the comms, carrying the effusive voice of Young Master Asta.
He expressed his immense gratitude for their assistance and confirmed that the promised bonus reward would be delivered to the Astral Express shortly.
“Whew—I’m exhausted!” March 7th declared, punctuating the statement with a massive, jaw-cracking yawn as he stretched his arms high above his head.
“I’m all sweaty and sticky…
Ah Heng, come on, let’s go take a shower!”
Dan Heng gave a slight nod.
Even after the prolonged battle, she maintained her usual cool composure, but the tight line of her shoulders had finally relaxed.
She glanced over at Chen and Qiong.
“What about you two?”
Chen, still in the form of Herta, waved a small, delicate hand.
“You guys head back first!
I’ll stay a bit longer.”
As he spoke, a faint light began to shimmer around his petite frame.
His loli-like figure wavered like a heat haze, the complex black-and-white dress dissolving into particles of light.
The illusion stretched and contorted, finally solidifying into his original form: a slightly disheveled, black-haired youth dressed in a set of ill-fitting, standard-issue space station casuals.
“Huh?
Changed back already?” March 7th clicked his tongue, a hint of disappointment in his tone.
“Alright then, we’ll head back first!
Qiong, Chen, you two come back soon, okay!”
With a final wave, he took Dan Heng’s hand and cheerfully dragged her away.
The corridor instantly fell silent, leaving only Qiong and the newly reverted Chen.
Qiong still clutched her baseball bat, standing quietly by his side.
Her silver-grey eyes were fixed on him, as if she was simply waiting for him to give the word to leave together.
But Chen didn’t move.
He just stood there, looking at Qiong with an incredibly complex expression.
His gaze roamed over her from head to toe, and his brow unconsciously furrowed into a tight knot.
The silence stretched, and Qiong began to feel a little uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny.
She blinked, her head tilting slightly.
“…Chen?” she asked softly.
“Aren’t we leaving?”
Chen didn’t answer directly.
Instead, he let out a long, heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand derailed plots.
He walked right up to Qiong, raised his hand, hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then patted her gently on the shoulder.
“Sister Qiong…” Chen began, his voice laced with a strange, solemn gravity.
“It really isn’t my fault that you…
ended up like this.”
Qiong’s expression shifted from mild confusion to utter bewilderment.
She tilted her head the other way, her eyes a perfect reflection of the unspoken words: ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
“…?”
“Never mind, you wouldn’t understand even if I told you,” Chen said, withdrawing his hand to run it through his own messy hair.
He seemed to wrestle with a decision for a moment before his eyes hardened with newfound determination.
“Not understanding is fine!
This was my mistake, so I’ll be the one to fix it!
Making up for it now…
it’s probably not too late!”
He suddenly straightened his back, planting both hands firmly on Qiong’s shoulders.
His posture was inexplicably reminiscent of a hot-blooded shonen manga protagonist about to deliver a life-changing speech.
His gaze burned into her confused eyes.
“Qiong!
Today!
Right now!
Let me help you awaken to the Path of Destruction!”
Qiong: “…?”
She looked even more baffled now, even shrinking back slightly.
She hugged her bat a little tighter, her entire posture silently asking: Chen, did you get hit in the head during the fight just now?
He let go and took two steps back, his eyes scanning the recently cleared, relatively spacious corridor.
Cupping his chin, he began rapidly cycling through feasible plans.
‘Awakening conditions…
intense emotional stimulation?
A life-or-death crisis?
A deep understanding or practice of the concept of destruction itself?’
His eyes darted between Qiong and their surroundings.
“Emotional stimulation…” he mused aloud.
“Sister Qiong, is there anything you really want to destroy right now?
Or something that makes you particularly angry?”
Qiong considered the question with the utmost seriousness, then slowly shook her head.
The biggest emotional fluctuation she’d experienced all day was probably the fierce protectiveness she felt when Herta tried to research her bat.
“A life-or-death crisis…
seems a little hard to arrange on short notice,” Chen muttered, scratching his head.
It wasn’t like he could just ask Lady Welt to conjure up another black hole for Qiong to face down.
That wouldn’t be an awakening; that would be assisted suicide.
“A deep understanding of destruction…” He glanced at Qiong’s pure, clueless eyes and immediately gave up on that option.
“Looks like we can only start with the most basic, hands-on practice,” Chen declared, clapping his hands together as his eyes lit up.
“The core of destruction, one of its key aspects, is breaking and changing!
Shattering the old, the things that bind you, with raw power!”
He pointed dramatically to a metal floor plate at the end of the corridor, which had been warped and bent during the earlier fight.
“Qiong!
See that plate?
I want you to imagine it’s not just a plate!
It’s an obstacle blocking your true Path!
A shackle binding your latent power!
It’s…
uh, it’s that gross green bean you hate most in your dinner tonight!
Use your bat, use all your strength, and destroy it!
Feel that instinctive impulse deep within you, the one that wants to break everything and reshape the world!”
Qiong looked in the direction he was pointing, then down at her bat, and finally back up at Chen’s face, which was contorted into an urgent expression that screamed, ‘Hurry up and get it!’.
She was silent for a few seconds.
Then, she walked over and swung her bat.
THWACK!
A dull, metallic thud echoed through the corridor.
The metal plate dented significantly, the impact sending violent vibrations through the floor.
Qiong retrieved her bat, examined the result of her handiwork, and then looked back at Chen.
Her eyes were still perfectly clear, silently asking: Like this?
What’s next?
Chen stared.
“…That’s it?
No feeling of…
power surging up from deep inside you, wanting to destroy more?
No visions?
No whispers from the beyond?
You don’t feel your body heating up or anything?”
Qiong simply shook her head.
Chen slapped a hand to his forehead.
“No, no, that’s not enough force, and the emotion isn’t there either…
We need a different approach.
How about…
you try to focus?
Sense the Stellaron inside your body?
Imagine its power flowing through your arms and into your hands, infusing the bat with its energy?”
Qiong closed her eyes and tried, her brow furrowed in concentration.
After a long moment, she opened them again.
The bat remained an ordinary, unchanged bat.
“Does it need a more direct target for destruction?
Or…
do I need to act as a catalyst?”
A bold, and quite possibly suicidal, idea flared to life in his mind.
He stopped pacing and stared at Qiong.
“Qiong, how about this…
imagine I’m your enemy.
A real bad guy trying to steal your bat.
Come at me with all your might.
Try to attack me with the absolute determination to destroy me, okay?
Don’t worry, I’ll defend myself!”
He then struck what he clearly thought was a cool, impregnable defensive pose.
For the first time, clear hesitation appeared in Qiong’s silver eyes.
She clutched her bat but didn’t move an inch.
“Come on!
Don’t hesitate!
Do it for power!
For your awakening!
For…
uh, for a good dinner tonight!” Chen urged, trying to rally her.
Qiong hesitated for a few more seconds.
Finally, she slowly, deliberately, raised her bat.
However, her posture held no destructive intent whatsoever; if anything, it looked rather…
careful.
Just as this special training session was about to veer into truly bizarre territory—
“You two…
what are you doing?”
A cool voice, tinged with a deep sense of exasperation, cut through the air from the other end of the corridor.
Dan Heng had returned at some point.
She had changed into a set of clean casual clothes, her long hair still damp, clearly having just finished a quick wash.
Her arms were crossed over her chest as she took in the scene: Chen, frozen in his strange pose, and Qiong, holding her bat up to him with a face that said, ‘I’m cooperating, but I don’t really get it.’
Dan Heng’s face was a mask of neutrality, but her eyes were screaming, What nonsense are you up to now?
I was only gone for a moment.
“Ah!
Dan Heng!
You’re back!” Chen immediately dropped his pose, scratching his head with a guilty, awkward grin.
“Nothing, nothing!
I was just…
helping Qiong with some…
uh, post-battle adaptive power guidance exercises!”
Dan Heng’s gaze swept over the newly dented metal plate on the floor, then to Chen’s thoroughly unconvincing expression.
Finally, her eyes landed on Qiong.
The moment she saw her, Qiong lowered her bat as if she’d just found her savior.
“…Don’t do unnecessary things,” Dan Heng said flatly, her tone unreadable.
“Qiong’s situation is special.
Uncle Himeko and Ms.
Welt have their own considerations.
We’ll discuss it when we get back to the Express.”
Chen chuckled sheepishly, knowing his methods were a bit like clutching at straws in a hurricane of desperation.
“Got it, got it…
We’re heading back now.”
Dan Heng said no more, simply turning to lead the way.
Qiong immediately followed, bat in hand, her steps light and quick as if she were escaping a very strange and confusing situation.
Chen trailed behind them, watching Qiong’s retreating back.
He sighed again, a deep and weary sound.
The road to awakening, it seemed, was long and arduous indeed.
[Elysian’s Note:
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