Chapter 397: The Calamity!
The air, once filled with tension and terror, began to stir gently as if awakening from a deep slumber.
Gasp!
Wan Yang, the leader of the warrior trio, drew in a sharp breath as his eyes met those of Wang Xiao.
A chill, subtle yet pervasive, crawled down his spine.
Never in his varied encounters with beasts, mages, and warriors had he felt such a profound and otherworldly aura.
It was as if he stood in the presence of an ancient divinity, whose power was vast and unfathomable as the ocean\'s depths.
Wang Xiao\'s gaze was serene, deep, and calm, mirroring the stillness of a vast sea untouched by wind.
This tranquility, the immense power that lay beneath, as hidden and potent as the currents that swirled in the ocean\'s dark heart.
Summoning his courage, Wan Yang ventured, his voice faltering slightly under awe, "V-venerable senior... May we know your name?"
With a simplicity that contrasted sharply with the complexity of his aura, Wang Xiao replied, "Eight Prince," his voice carrying a quiet finality.
He then turned his attention to the small figure at his feet—Zhenxi.
As he gently lifted her, Zhenxi, startled yet intrigued by the sudden closeness to this mysterious protector, reached out tentatively towards his face.
Her small, pale hands moved through the air, guided by the innocence of a child and the deep need to understand through touch.
Her fingers, delicate and unsure, hovered near his features, exploring the space where his voice—a soothing, melodious sound—emanated from.
"Don\'t poke my eyes," Wang Xiao murmured with a light chuckle, his tone warm and flecked with amusement, causing Zhenxi to withdraw her hand quickly.
"O-oh, sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with innocent embarassment caught in an act. She lowered her gaze, her long lashes casting featherlike shadows over her flushed cheeks.
Wang Xiao\'s examination of her became more intense as he noted the burns on her face—red and angry marks that would soon blister.
Her dress, once vibrant and neat, now bore the stains of the mud, soiling the fabric.
"Do you want to come with me... or go with them?" Wang Xiao\'s question was soft, almost tender, as he gave Zhenxi a choice.
His gaze shifted between her and the warriors, who remained stunned by his name.
Eight Prince!
In the eyes of the warriors, he was a figure from legends, a dragon among men.
"..."
No reply came from the little creature in his arms, but she instinctively nestled closer into Wang Xiao, her small form curling up within the safety of his arms like a delicate blossom seeking shelter from a storm.
With a solemn nod, Wang Xiao understood her unspoken plea.
In an instant, he transformed into a wisp of black smoke, disappearing into the night with the speed of a fleeting shadow.
Whizz...
As he vanished, the overwhelming aura that had enveloped the area lifted, allowing the tension to fade away.
The three warriors, left in the wake of his departure, found their legs trembling, their bodies suddenly light without the crushing presence of such immense power.
"Terrible...!"
"It was inhumane!"
These exhaled sighs of relief and disbelief came from behind Wan Yang, his two companions visibly shaken, their faces glistening with sweat under the night sky.
Except for Wan Yang, both companions wore devices that obscured their faces and voices, adding an element of mystery and anonymity to their figures.
To Wan Yang\'s right stood a particularly slender, almost delicate figure.
The warrior\'s form, more feminine in its grace, was draped in a cloak that fluttered softly with each cold breath.
"Was it really the Eight Prince? The imperial son of Evil?" her voice, though muffled, carried a note of both suprise and bewilderment.
The mask could hide her face but not the flicker of recognition that danced briefly in her eyes, a silent question lingering in the cool night air.
Her thoughts fluttered like disturbed butterflies.
\'Why did he look so familiar...\' she pondered, a mix of dread and curiosity swirling within her.
"The calamity seems to have come uninvited to our tranquil Qing Dynasty, The wind, once gentle, now blows in the opposite direction..." added the burlier, more masculine figure to Wan Yang\'s left, his voice laden with a grim acceptance.
Once celebrated as the Divine Son, Wang Xiao was now feared and known as \'The Imperial Son of Evil\' after his actions led to the collapse of the Sun Dynasty.
Dubbed \'The Calamity,\' his very presence had become an omen of disaster.
Wan Yang exhaled a deep sigh, the reality of their encounter settling heavily upon him. "That\'s the gap between mortals and gods..."
He had earnestly hoped to stop Wang Xiao, to fulfill his promise to a mother by ensuring her daughter\'s safety.
However, standing before such a divine entity, he recognized the stark futility of mortal efforts against celestial might.
The lessons from the warrior training academy echoed mockingly in his mind—tales of bravado claiming that mortals could rival the gods, protectors of the eight continents.
Such boasts had seemed plausible within the academy\'s walls.
But now, faced with a true Transcendent being, Wan Yang understood the profound futility of those claims.
The gulf between mortal bravado and divine reality was not just wide; it was insurmountable.
The difference was not merely of strength but of an entirely different essence of existence.
_____
"Shit... Not now," Wang Xiao murmured, a veil of frustration clouding his features as his form began to blur unexpectedly, resembling an image faltering on an old, flickering television screen.
Compelled by urgency, he swiftly made his way to the Huangpu River, his silhouette a blur against the city.
Under the expansive bridge that connected the realms of Pudong and Puxi, he found a moment\'s refuge, the cool shadows cloaking them both from the chaos of the world above.
"Are you... alright?" The tiny, innocent voice from his arms tugged at the edges of his concentration.
Zhenxi, nestled closely against him, peered up with eyes clouded with concern, her small brow furrowed as she witnessed Wang Xiao\'s sudden change.