Chapter 94: March's Attempt, the Second Space Anchor in the Alien World
Platters of roasted meats and vibrant, spice-dusted fruits circulated around the long wooden tables. As the feast progressed, the atmosphere in the grand hall gradually shifted from a boisterous celebration to a quiet, earnest exchange of stories.
Mualani leaned forward, her voice hushed as she shared the fragmented memories Tupaq had entrusted to her deep within the Night Kingdom.
Listening to the young guide, Mavuika, the Pyro Archon, slowly set her silver utensils down on her plate. The casual warmth in her eyes gave way to an incredibly heavy, solemn gravity.
Under the focused gaze of everyone at the table, she began to speak. Word by word, she unveiled Natlan's long-sealed, desperate gambit—a grand, agonizing plan spanning a full five hundred years.
It was a war of attrition. The core of their strategy was to gradually purge the Abyss's vile corruption from Natlan's soil, stitch together the festering scars left upon the land, and ultimately guide their nation toward a dawn no longer choked by the Abyss's shadow. She spoke of the countless sacrifices, the generations of warriors who had thrown their lives into the dark, and the unyielding persistence required to maintain their fragile defense.
"Five hundred years..." Dan Heng repeated softly. He lowered his gaze, a deep reverence settling over his features.
March 7th's usual bubbly demeanor vanished entirely. She rested her chin in her hands, her expression uncharacteristically serious. "It sounds a lot like what Belobog went through. To hold on for that long... you are all people of incredible perseverance. It's truly admirable."
Wise and Belle exchanged a quiet glance across the table. As proxies who handled the dangerous Hollows of their own world, they both recognized and deeply respected the sheer weight of such long-term, grueling survival.
Beside them, Lumine and Paimon sat in silence, feeling the crushing burden of the Pyro Archon's responsibility pressing down on their own shoulders.
Mavuika's fiery gaze swept over the gathered outlanders, finally coming to rest on Dan Heng and Paimon. She offered them a slow, solemn nod of gratitude.
"Everyone, Natlan's ability to seize this precious sliver of time is entirely inseparable from your formidable assistance." Her tone carried a raw, sincere weight. "Especially your team, Mr. Dan Heng. By successfully purifying the main consciousness of the Wayob, you have preserved a crucial spark for the Night Kingdom's resistance against the Abyssal invasion."
"You are too kind, Lady Mavuika," Dan Heng replied, dipping his head in a polite, measured nod.
March blinked, her curiosity suddenly piqued. "Huh? Wait a second, Mavuika, were you in there with us at the time? How do you know exactly what happened?"
A faint smile touched Mavuika's lips. She raised a hand, her fingertip gently tapping her temple. "Although I did not personally step into the core perilous zones, my spirit remained tethered to the Night Kingdom. I could perceive the rough outlines of everything transpiring within." She lowered her hand. "Especially your battles, and the sudden shifts in the Night Kingdom's environment... I felt the ripples of it all."
Hearing this, Lumine's breath hitched. She suddenly remembered the fragile burden she carried. Moving quickly but with extreme care, she reached into her spatial inventory and withdrew a sphere of light. It was incredibly dim, its edges blurry and flickering like a dying ember.
It was Mallko's soul. Enjou had handed it over just as it was on the verge of complete dissipation.
"Mavuika..." Lumine leaned across the table, a desperate urgency bleeding into her voice. "Please, look at this. Is there any way... any way at all to save him? He is an exceptional warrior. He shouldn't just fade away into nothingness like this."
Mavuika leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she carefully sensed the faint, flickering point of light. The soul was so fragile it threatened to extinguish with a stray breath. After a long moment, the Pyro Archon shook her head, her expression laced with deep regret.
"The power of the Abyss has completely eroded the very essence of his soul. All that remains is this faint, lingering imprint of his final obsession," Mavuika explained softly. "With Natlan's current means, reshaping a shattered soul is impossible. It is already a miracle that this imprint has survived until now. I am afraid... it will not last much longer."
A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the reception hall.
Just then, March 7th, who had been staring intently at the blurry sphere of light, furrowed her brows. A peculiar, confused expression crossed her face.
"Hmm... I think... I feel something..." she murmured to herself. Almost subconsciously, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the warm, jade-like Sheep Talisman, gripping it tightly in her palm.
An indescribable intuition tugged at her mind, urging her forward.
"March?" Dan Heng asked, his voice low and questioning.
March 7th did not answer. She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto the dying light as if she had just made a firm decision.
She stepped away from the table, walking directly to Lumine's side. Extending her free hand—the one not holding the talisman—she carefully, tentatively reached out, her fingertip brushing against the blurry soul imprint.
The moment her skin made contact with the sphere of light, the Sheep Talisman in her other hand erupted with a brilliant, soft white glow!
An invisible force, gentle yet possessing an immovable firmness, flowed like a trickling mountain stream up March's arm, channeling through her fingertip and injecting directly into the dissipating soul!
Everyone at the table held their breath. Even Mavuika and Zhongli leaned forward, their gazes sharpening with intense focus.
Right before their eyes, the impossible occurred.
The blurry, dying sphere of light drank in the energy. As if suddenly infused with a massive surge of vitality, the light began to visibly solidify, its hazy edges sharpening into crisp lines. The amorphous blob stretched and expanded, delineating the broad shoulders of a human shape, the sharp angles of facial features, the distinct outline of armor...
Finally, a complete—albeit somewhat translucent—soul body materialized in the center of the hall. Mallko stood before them, clearly discernible and whole.
"Uh..." Mallko's soul slowly fluttered his eyes open. He looked down at his glowing hands, his gaze swimming with confusion and deep weakness. "This... where am I...? I'm not... supposed to be..."
His voice echoed through the room like a flickering candle in the wind—faint, ethereal, yet perfectly audible.
The entire reception hall remained frozen in stunned silence for a split second before erupting into a chaotic chorus of gasps and exclamations.
"Oh my god! March!" Paimon shrieked, slapping both hands over her small mouth, her eyes wide enough to rival saucers.
"A shattered soul... can actually be repaired?!" Chuychu gripped the edge of the table, her worldview as a seasoned healer entirely upended in a matter of seconds.
"The Sheep Talisman... it actually has this kind of power?" March stared at her own hands, equally stunned by what she had just accomplished.
Dan Heng watched March 7th closely, his eyes swirling with complex emotions—a mixture of genuine surprise and deep, analytical contemplation.
Even Zhongli offered a slow, measured nod, a distinct flash of approval crossing his amber eyes.
March 7th herself stood frozen, completely bewildered. She looked between the glowing Sheep Talisman in her palm and the fully formed soul standing in front of her. A wave of joy washed over her, quickly followed by a cold sweat of lingering fear. She had acted purely on a vague, reckless intuition.
"I... I just had this weird feeling that I could... 'charge' him up?" March stammered, holding the talisman up to the light. "This little thing... it's way more powerful than I thought!"
Mallko slowly turned his head, taking in his surroundings. He saw the familiar, commanding presence of his Pyro Archon, and the faces of the outlanders who had fought alongside him in the dark depths of the Night Kingdom. Finally, he looked down at his own translucent, glowing body. Understanding dawned in his eyes.
He managed a difficult, bittersweet smile. Straightening his posture, he delivered a deep, flawless warrior's salute to Mavuika, then to the rest of the table, and finally, he bowed deeply toward March 7th.
"Thank you... thank you all..." His voice was incredibly weak, yet it connected with an overwhelming, absolute gratitude. "...for giving me the time to say a proper goodbye."
The power March 7th had injected was not a cure. It was akin to temporarily plugging the holes in a tattered balloon and forcing air into it. It delayed the inevitable deflation, but it could not alter the fundamental, catastrophic damage the Abyss had inflicted upon his essence.
Perhaps, if March mastered the talisman's power, she could achieve a true, qualitative resurrection in the future. But for now, that miracle remained out of reach.
Mallko's soul continued to emit a soft, warm light, though the frantic speed of his dissipation had slowed to a gentle crawl.
To a warrior who had expected to die alone in the dark, having the chance to stand before his Archon and his comrades to say a proper farewell was the greatest gift he could ever receive.
The room fell quiet again. Everyone nodded in silent understanding, choosing not to force false hopes or press the issue further. March 7th's power provided temporary sustenance, not true salvation. But in this moment, that was more than enough.
The emotional release following Mallko's peaceful farewell acted as a catalyst. The heavy suppression that had hung over the room vanished, and the banquet's atmosphere rebounded, soaring to an entirely new climax. The night officially entered the mandatory, post-battle "bragging" phase.
March 7th stood at the head of the table, wildly gesturing as she vividly recounted her combat prowess. She detailed exactly how she had used the Fire Dance Whirlwind's Golden Light Demon Subduing technique to instantly obliterate an Iniquitous Baptist and three Abyss Heralds in a blinding flash of glory.
Not to be outdone, Paimon stood on her chair, planting her hands firmly on her hips. She loudly and proudly reenacted her own heroic feat, boasting about how she had "turned the entire tide of the war with a single, devastating wrench strike."
Laughter, clinking glasses, and joyous chatter filled the grand hall, chasing away the last remnants of the Abyss's chill. Watching the chaotic, vibrant energy of the outlanders, Mavuika leaned back in her chair, her lips curving into a rare, entirely relaxed smile.
Hours later, as the banquet finally wound down, Dan Heng approached Mavuika with a quiet request.
"Lady Mavuika, for the convenience of our future communications, mutual assistance, and to commemorate our time fighting side-by-side, I would like to request permission to place a Space Anchor here in Natlan," Dan Heng explained smoothly. "It is completely harmless to the environment. It serves only as a fixed spatial coordinate point for our travel."
Mavuika studied Dan Heng's calm demeanor. She thought back to the Wayob's high evaluation of these strange travelers, and the obvious miracles they had performed tonight. Almost without hesitation, she nodded.
"You have my permission. Follow me."
She personally led Dan Heng out of the hall, handling through the quiet night until they reached a hidden, natural rock cave situated just behind the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. It rested directly above a potent, pulsing ley line node.
Mavuika gestured to a flat expanse of stone. "The energy here is incredibly stable. It is rarely disturbed by outsiders, and it provides sufficient concealment for your device."
Dan Heng nodded his thanks. He retrieved the metallic, geometric construct of the Space Anchor from his inventory. With a solemn, practiced motion, he drove the base of the anchor firmly into the stone ground. A soft hum connected through the cave as the device activated, emitting only the faintest, rhythmic ripples of spatial fluctuation.
Mavuika closed her eyes, her fiery hair glowing faintly in the dim cave. She focused her senses, carefully probing the energy radiating from the construct. After a long moment, she confirmed that the spatial tether was perfectly stable and posed absolutely no threat to Natlan's leylines.
Opening her eyes, the Pyro Archon gave Dan Heng a final, approving nod.
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