Chapter 30: At Chentang Pass, Rumors Rise Before the Waves
On the dusk of the sixteenth day, they arrived at Chentang Pass.
The city sat at the estuary, backed by mountains and facing the water. The walls were not high, yet they were thick and ancient, the bricks etched with layer upon layer of white streaks by the sea wind and salt mist. From afar, the pass looked like a giant beast crouching by the shore, silent and vigilant.
Before they even entered the city, rumors rushed to meet them.
Fishermen by the docks spoke in hushed tones, merchants in the taverns kept their voices low, and even the patrolling soldiers held a trace of lingering fear in their eyes. The words were fragmented, yet they all pointed to the same event.
A child treading upon the waves.
Some said that on that night, the sea was windless, yet white waves suddenly rose. A barefoot child stood atop the crests, robes fluttering in the wind. He used no boat, relied on no talismans, as if he knew the sea by birthright. The waves moved at his will; the water parted for him.
Others said the child held a strange artifact, shaped like a ring. When thrown, it cut the air silently, but struck the sea like thunder crashing into the abyss. The water veins of the East Sea were thrown into chaos, undercurrents surged, and even the sea beasts fled in terror.
The most terrifying part was what followed.
The Dragon Palace of the East Sea was enraged and sent the Third Prince to demand answers. When the dragon prince appeared, the winds and clouds shifted instantly, waves rose several zhang high, and an oppressive pressure bore down on the coastline. Yet the child did not retreat or evade; he simply stepped onto the waves to meet him.
The clash lasted only moments before the sea suddenly fell silent.
In the next instant, dragon blood dyed the sea.
Someone saw with their own eyes a red shadow plummet into the water. Spray shot up a thousand feet, then collapsed within half a breath. The Third Prince of the East Sea perished on the spot.
Here, the tone of the rumors began to tremble.
Because following close behind was the Dragon King rising the waters.
The tides grew higher night after night, dark currents gathering toward the shore. The Dragon King of the East Sea declared he would take the lives of everyone in Chentang Pass to pay for the death of his son. The floods had not yet arrived, but the threat had. The people in the city were in a state of panic, unable to find peace day or night.
Snow stood outside the city gates, listening to these fragmented accounts, her brows gradually furrowing.
"The rumors are too uniform," she whispered.
Red also sensed something was wrong.
These words sounded as if they had been retold countless times; though details were plentiful, they always revolved around a few fixed scenes. Treading waves. The strange artifact. Slaying the dragon. Rising waters. Every plot point was excessively clear, as if someone had deliberately arranged the sequence.
After entering the city, the atmosphere in Chentang Pass appeared even tighter.
The markets were still running, but lacked vitality. Salt shops closed early; patrons in the taverns sat mostly in silence. Children were ordered not to go near the seaside, and going out at night was strictly forbidden. The number of cultivators in the city had visibly increased, but most guarded key positions and spoke little to the commoners.
Outside the City Commandant's manor hung the latest notice.
The wording was cautious, mentioning not a word about the child, nor the slaying of the dragon, emphasizing only city defense and flood prevention. Yet the more they did this, the more it seemed they were trying to cover something up.
When night fell, they ascended the city wall.
The sea looked unusually calm under the moonlight. The wave lines were neat, the sound of the tides rhythmic, as if nothing had ever happened. But Red could feel the restlessness deep beneath the surface. It wasn't simple anger, but a forcibly suppressed power seeking an outlet to vent.
"The East Sea is holding back," he said.
Snow closed her eyes, using her Moon Toad senses to touch the edge of the sea. The moment her divine consciousness extended, it was blocked by a massive will. That will was cold, hard, and ancient, carrying an undeniable pressure, yet it did not actively attack.
"The Dragon King did not strike immediately," she opened her eyes. "He is waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"Waiting for a justifiable reason." She paused. "Or perhaps, waiting for that child."
The wind picked up on the wall, carrying the salty scent of the sea.
Red suddenly realized that in this story, too many parts had been omitted. Where did the child come from? Where was the artifact obtained? Why did the Third Prince come out to sea personally? And why, after the dragon was slain, had the Imperial Court delayed its verdict?
All the clues seemed deliberately severed, leaving only the segment most easily ignited by anger.
"This doesn't look like simple karmic retribution," Red whispered.
Snow nodded.
"It's more like a taut string," she said. "Whoever moves first will snap."
Far out on the sea, a dark current quietly rolled over, then quickly returned to calm. Moonlight reflected on the water, shattering into countless fine white scales.
Chentang Pass stood silent in the night, like a chosen chess piece, unable to retreat and unable to speak.
They finally understood that what they had truly stepped into was not merely the site of a rumor.
It was a game where the first piece had yet to be played.