Chapter 142: Hope
A murmur of confusion followed, but she pressed on.
"You call this place safe. You think these walls protect you. But what you call safety was built on the backs of enslaved hunters, on the screams of the weak pitted against monsters for amusement!"
Her eyes swept across the faces above her, the civilians, the soldiers, the trembling guards who had once turned away from cruelty in silence.
"You want peace? Then build it by yourselves. Protect it. Not through tyranny, but through unity."
Her words were not grand or poetic. They were carved from simple, unyielding truth.
And it struck something raw in the crowd.
But even as the murmurs shifted from fear to something like hope, a thought nagged at the edge of Ling Yu’s mind, the practicality of it.
This city was not small. It was vast, fortified, and crawling with desperate survivors who only obeyed strength. If she killed the lords but failed to replace them quickly, the resulting vacuum would turn the fortress into a war zone by morning.
Even if she despised the system, she couldn’t let anarchy consume the people.
Her eyes fell on Xie Lingzhou, still seated among the onlookers. Their gazes met for a fraction of a second. He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, ’You understand now, don’t you?’
Yes. She did.
Destroying something was easy, but rebuilding was harder.
Later, as the arena began to clear out under the growing tension, Ling Yu stood in the middle of the sand, gazing at the four unconscious or kneeling lords being dragged away. Her expression was unreadable.
Song approached from behind, his usually calm demeanor shadowed with concern. "Miss Ling," he said softly, "you’ve made quite a statement tonight. But... what happens now?"
She exhaled, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "Now?" she murmured. "Now we decide who deserves to hold power."
Song blinked. "You mean... you’re not taking it yourself?"
Ling Yu’s smile was faint, bitter. "If I do, I become the same as them. I didn’t fight this battle to sit on a throne built from someone else’s blood. I only came to break the system, and to put the right hands on its levers."
Her gaze lifted toward the fortress towers, where fires burned faintly in the distance. "But the problem is... There aren’t many hands worth trusting."
Over the next few hours, rumors of the duel spread like wildfire.
By dawn, everyone in the fortress knew that a lone woman had challenged the four lords and won. Some called her a savior; others whispered that she was a demon, a harbinger of change.
Regardless, fear and awe now surrounded her name.
Ling Yu convened a small meeting in one of the administrative halls, the same hall the lords used to host their executions.
Now, the air smelled of candle wax and tension.
Xie Lingzhou stood beside the window, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Song lingered near the door, silent but watchful. Around the table sat a handful of hunters and civilians, the bravest who dared to answer Ling Yu’s open call for leadership.
She had sent a message at dawn: "If you believe this city deserves better, come forward."
And surprisingly, they came.
A dozen hunters, two medics, and one young woman in a mechanic’s garb, oil staining her gloves.
Each of them looked wary but resolute.
Ling Yu stood at the head of the table, her voice calm but unyielding.
"This city has lost its rulers," she began. "But the people still need structure. Protection. Food. Order."
She paused, scanning their faces.
"I can’t do this alone. Nor do I intend to. So, I will ask you plainly, who among you is willing to take responsibility for rebuilding what was broken?"
For a moment, the atmosphere was draped in silence.
Then, a hunter with a scar across his cheek stood. His armor was scratched and dull, his eyes haunted but determined.
"I’ll stand," he said. "I’ve seen too many die while those lords drank and gambled. If you’ll have me, I’ll take a post in defense."
Another followed, a tall woman with cropped hair and a steady stance. "I used to run logistics for the eastern base before it fell," she said. "I can manage the supplies, but I want transparency. No more hidden hoards or bribery."
One by one, more stood, drawn not by power, but by conviction.
By the time the last volunteer spoke, Ling Yu felt something she hadn’t felt in years.
Hope.
Xie Lingzhou’s voice broke the quiet. "A fine gathering," he said with mild amusement. "But idealism alone won’t keep the walls standing. You’ll need fighters. Discipline. Command."
Ling Yu met his gaze. "Then will you lend your strength?"
He tilted his head, pretending to think. "You ask as if I could refuse."
Her lips curved faintly. "I’d prefer if you didn’t."
His expression softened, just barely. "Very well. I’ll lend my men, but on one condition."
She raised a brow. "Which is?"
"That you stop pretending you’re only passing through," he said quietly. "Whether you like it or not, Ling Yu, this city needs you."
Her fingers tightened against the table.
For a heartbeat, she didn’t reply. The divine beings stirred faintly in her mind, whispers like the crackle of a fire in the distance.
[Lord of Silent Graves shakes his head.]
[Mortals bind themselves to burdens. Yet she carries theirs as if they were feathers.]
[Whispering Serpent feels delighted.]
[She toys with fate and calls it mercy. How delightful.]
Ling Yu ignored them, though her pulse quickened.
Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she couldn’t simply leave. Not yet, because there was one last thing she had to do here.
Later that evening, as the fortress buzzed with the news of the new interim council, Ling Yu walked along the outer wall, the chill wind brushing her hair. The city below glowed with a strange, cautious energy, half fear, half awakening.
Beside her, Song handed her a cup of warm tea.
"You did well," he said simply.
She took it, smiling faintly. "Did I? I feel like I just set fire to a hive and told the bees to behave."
He chuckled softly. "Sometimes, that’s the only way to make them rebuild properly."
Her smile deepened, then faded into thought. "Still... It’s not over. The anchor is still there. As long as that thing exists, peace won’t last."
Song looked at her, eyes steady. "Then we’ll destroy it."
She didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she looked up at the faint, pulsating glow emanating from the heart of the fortress, the divine anchor, throbbing faintly like a living heart under the ground.
The whispers of the divine beings grew stronger, twisting like wind through her mind.
[Unnamed Cosmic Deity pushes the Streamer to do as they wish.]
[You’ve shifted the balance. Now see what awakens beneath the ashes you’ve disturbed.]
Ling Yu’s grip on the cup tightened.
Yes. She had lit the match.
Now, she would have to deal with the fire.
But for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t alone in facing it.
Around her stood allies, not perfect, not invincible, but brave. And somewhere among them, perhaps, the seeds of a new order had taken root.
The fortress that had once been a den of cruelty was now trembling on the edge of transformation.
And Ling Yu, the woman they once called cursed, now stood at its heart, not as a ruler, but as the storm that would decide whether it bloomed or burned.
***
The fortress had finally fallen into silence.
After days of relentless struggle, arguments, and shifting loyalties, the halls that once echoed with the roars of beasts and the cheers of bloodthirsty spectators now felt hollow, emptied of their noise and madness. The air carried a faint metallic tang of blood that refused to fade, no matter how many times the soldiers scrubbed the floors.
Ling Yu stood on the balcony of the highest tower, her cloak fluttering in the dry wind. The moon hung low, swollen and crimson, glimmering faintly through the misty veil of toxic clouds. The entire world seemed to be holding its breath, waiting.
Her gaze was fixed not on the horizon, but far below, beneath the fortress itself, where the Divine Anchor rested. It was said to be the heart of this region, the core that held the fortress and its surrounding lands together. But the moment Ling Yu laid eyes upon it days ago, she had known it was no divine relic.
It was something far older and darker than it appeared to be looking like.