“What is cloud-silk?” The soldier asked, clearly unfamiliar with such fine materials.
Lin Yao had only asked on a whim, but he had no way to explain it to him in detail. In this new world, he had unfortunately ended up in the body of a child. Accessing the boy’s memories, Lin Yao knew there were other nations and coexisting kingdoms beyond the Chade Royal Court, but he couldn’t immediately discern the nuances of noble attire.
As a priest serving the gods, he wasn’t supposed to care overmuch about such earthly garments anyway. It seemed he would have to wait until they reached Onassis to investigate properly.
Owing to his status as a priest, he was able to request some food. As the convoy migrated, their provisions consisted of nothing more than coarse, hard flatbread and ice-cold water. Lin Yao forced himself to swallow it slowly. No matter how unpalatable it was, food was food—it was the fuel this young body needed to survive.
The long column of the convoy didn’t consist solely of wagons carrying plundered treasure. There were also one or two horse-drawn carriages clearly meant for passengers, fashioned in an archaic style typical of this era—a style reserved exclusively for nobility.
Although Lin Yao was a priest and theoretically deserving of veneration, his body was still too young. Even though he had successfully cultivated his powers and proved his worth—ensuring he wouldn’t freeze or starve on the road—expecting any real luxury was out of the question.
The convoy didn’t press on through the night. As evening fell and they gathered around the campfires, Lin Yao could see the battle scars on the soldiers who occasionally unbuckled their armor to relax. Even as the invaders, they had not emerged from the conflict unscathed.
They chatted freely around the fire without bothering to exclude Lin Yao. Priests in this world were chosen and trained from childhood, raised away from their parents to serve the divine. A kingdom’s priests often came from various foreign lands—some allied, others hostile. Another reason they were spared during conquest was that they held little to no allegiance to any secular nation.
Lin Yao remained quiet throughout the journey. Sitting by the fire, he appeared to be in deep, tranquil meditation, completely unbothered by his surroundings. His detachment only made the soldiers lower their guard even further.
Late-night conversations among men in the military were inevitably steeped in greed, lust, and violence. The cover of darkness always brought out their primal nature—especially in a dull, stifling army camp with no other outlet.
“The women of the Chade royal family were truly fine specimens. Pity they were all slaughtered before we could enjoy them.”
“You could always try a corpse. Fresh ones mixed with warm blood are much more fun than a living woman kicking and screaming.”
“No way, brother—you’ve actually done that? Describing it in such detail damn, it gets the blood pumping.”
“Gets your blood pumping? Then you should’ve joined the sacking party. Hunting people down like rats in the streets—that’s what really gets the blood surging.”
“A shame they never found the little prince’s body, though.”
As their crude banter continued, Lin Yao’s eyes snapped open. Gazing into the roaring fire, he felt a slow, creeping chill rise from deep within his chest.
Accompanying the coldness was a surge of fury, hatred, disgust, and terror. These were not Lin Yao’s own emotions—they belonged to the original owner of this body.
His parents brutally murdered, his royal capital sacked and these men had clearly taken a head count of the royal family, noting that the young prince’s body was missing. As the sole surviving heir to the Chade Royal Court, his life was still in grave danger, even with his identity as a priest serving as a cover.
Lin Yao wrapped his blanket tightly around himself and lay down in silence. There was no water for washing during the journey; the dried blood on his face was caked with dust and grime. He had only wiped it casually with a rag, leaving his face dirty enough to conceal his true features from prying eyes.
A soft, squeaky voice echoed in his mind:
［Host, would you like to use the system’s Face-Swapping Technique?］
Lin Yao remained still. Though this body belonged to a child, he himself was a seasoned veteran who had completed countless missions with straight-A ratings. Even though this was his first assignment in the Revenge Division, his accumulated experience was no joke.
［Is it free?］
System 1325 replied:
［It’s only ten thousand Star Credits, Host! A total bargain!］
Lin Yao closed his eyes and rejected it instantly:
［No money. Not buying.］
In his previous mission divisions, his assigned systems had always been serious and upright. He hadn’t expected the Revenge Division to pair him with a system that sounded like a squishy piece of candy. At a glance, it seemed barely usable.
Whatever. He didn’t rely on systems to complete his missions anyway.
System 1325 peeked at the data in its host’s account balance, its voice trembling slightly in shock at the long string of zeros:
［Host, you’re super rich! Ten thousand Star Credits really isn’t expensive.］
［Mute system audio.］ Lin Yao commanded mentally.
Once the noisy voice vanished, he pulled the blanket closer and drifted off to sleep. He needed to conserve his energy right now, not listen to someone babbling in his ear.
A peaceful night’s sleep was traded for a barrage of nagging the next day.
［Host, muting me isn’t right! What if an emergency happens?］
［Host, the Star Credit Shop has new arrivals! The latest Secret Spell Scroll is on sale for just 998!］
［Host, can you hear me? Did we lose connection? Moshi moshi? Hold on, let me try reconnecting.］
Lin Yao, who had been practicing his Mental Blockade technique the entire way, was thoroughly exasperated by this foolish system.
［Are you a newly appointed intern system?］
［Huh? No, I just became a full-time employee and got assigned to you! Wait—Host, you’re talking to me! I’m so happy! I thought my comms program was broken, waah.］
Hearing that whiny sigh, Lin Yao decided to resume his Mental Blockade practice.
After a long, grueling journey through endless wind and sand, the royal capital of Onassis finally appeared before them. Massive stone walls and blue-brick paved roads greeted the arriving convoy, accompanied by singing, dancing, and flowers tossed by cheering crowds, welcoming them like returning heroes.
At the front of the procession, a blonde prince—unlike his usual habit of riding inside a carriage—sat atop a tall, magnificent steed. He soaked in the cheers of the populace and the enamored gazes of the young maidens. Draped in a cloak patterned with exquisite cloud-silk, he looked exceptionally radiant and dazzling.
Riding alongside him were two other princes of similar appearance. Though too far to see clearly, they could be seen waving to the crowds along the roadside.
“Prince Cody! Prince Cody!”
“Prince Kathy, please accept my flowers!”
“Third Prince!”
Lin Yao looked straight ahead, silently keeping pace with the convoy.
Three princes of Onassis had led this campaign. Brave and skilled in battle, they had expanded their nation’s territory, but in doing so, they had brought ruin upon the Chade Royal Court. It seemed patterns of cloud-silk were a privilege reserved strictly for nobility.
However, the cardinal rule of the Revenge Division was simple: There is only one true target.
Seeking revenge did not mean engaging in indiscriminate slaughter. Otherwise, with Lin Yao’s capabilities, he could easily destroy everything before him. After all, when a bird’s nest is overturned, no eggs remain unbroken.
What he needed to figure out first was: Who was the primary architect of his ruin?
［Host, the system can auto-lock onto the target for you.］
［No money. Shut up.］
［?］
Inside the High Priest’s Sanctuary, mist curled softly in the air. The floors were paved with pristine white marble, and the surrounding architecture seemed woven entirely out of white, conveying a sense of holiness, purity, and suffocating restraint.
After being brought back to the capital, Lin Yao was sent directly here. Although priests were highly valued, a child as young as him was clearly not yet taken seriously. He was merely assigned a room and a few servants, instructed to attend the Grand Priest’s daily teachings, and otherwise left to his own devices.
Now ten years old, Lin Yao sat before a mirror after washing the grime from his face. The white priestly robes were far outshone by his own fair skin, which glowed with a dewy luster—as if the harsh winds and sand of the journey had been nothing more than an illusion.
With lips red as cherries, teeth white as jade, and brows curved like delicate crescent moons, he looked like a treasure meticulously carved by the gods over many years. Yet, despite his pure and noble countenance, a faint, natural trace of crimson lined the corners of his eyes. With a subtle curl of his gaze, an innate, captivating allure would flicker past—vanishing before one could get a closer look, leaving behind an irresistible, maddening itch in the heart.
This was Lin Yao’s true face, not the original face of the body he occupied.
To ensure higher success rates, the Revenge Division altered a task force member’s appearance to match their true self upon entry. Whether a revenge mission took days or years, this helped them integrate better while preventing them from forgetting their true identity. It was a standard procedure.
Though the features of the child in the mirror had not yet fully matured, one could already glimpse the peerless elegance he would possess in the future.
While this was his own face, it was also the face of the missing young prince of the Chade Royal Court. Lin Yao picked up a silver, full-face mask from the table and secured it over his face.
For now, he didn’t need to use this face to achieve his goals.
A flower crafted from red rubies bloomed under the subtle motion of slender fingers. The flower was as vivid as fire, while the hand holding it was as pale as jade—each complementing the other in flawless beauty.
The man kneeling on one knee was thoroughly spellbound. It wasn’t until the potted gemstone flower was pushed toward him that he carefully picked it up. “Thank you for your generous gift, High Priest. I offer greetings on behalf of Prince Cody.”
“Mm.” Sitting cross-legged on a soft cushion, the white-robed priest merely nodded slightly. He was as cold and detached as the silver mask he had worn for the past eight years, yet his demeanor never struck anyone as impolite.
Given his status, position, and power, nothing he did could ever be considered rude.
The man backed out with utmost caution. Lin Yao rose from his cushion and walked toward the main sanctuary. The pristine white silk draped over his shoulders fluttered behind him, looking even more delicate than the floating clouds in the sky.
Passing attendants bowed deeply one after another. “High Priest.”
Their eyes held a mixture of reverence, worship, and deeply hidden adoration.
Even though the High Priest had never once removed his mask, the mere sight of his flowing robes was enough to fill their hearts with yearning.
Yet, despite their longing, no one dared desecrate him in the slightest. Priests belonged to the Sanctuary and to the gods. From the moment they stepped into the temple, they were forbidden from marrying or engaging in carnal desires; doing so would strip them of the divine powers they took pride in. Anyone who dared tempt a priest and destroy their power would be branded a demon—despised by all, and condemned to burn to ash in the sacred flames.
“Yao, I have something to discuss with you.”
Standing ahead of Lin Yao was a man with his hand resting on the hilt of a sword, wearing tall riding boots. He smiled warmly, his wavy flaxen hair and grey-green eyes giving him a gentle aura—much like the serene trees planted within the temple courtyard—making him appear remarkably approachable.
“Prince Kathy, good day,” Lin Yao paused, giving a subtle nod.