Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Alright, tonight you should think carefully about how to atone for your mistakes.

For example, document the wicked deeds committed by those around you for me. I’ll reference them when drafting the Holy Laws.

Look at this mess—until I resolve it, I can’t break this karma and return to the Upper Nine Continents. What a nuisance.

Oh, and don’t go around proclaiming my real identity, to avoid attracting crowds of worshippers and ruin my peace and quiet.

To the outside world, just treat me as the Holy Son of this place. If there’s anything I need, I’ll arrange it as I see fit."

With a dismissive look, Ning Chan finished his instructions, dusted off his sleeves (though there was no dust), and pushed the door open to leave.

"Hey, Kane, you’re still awake?" Ning Chan returned to his room and saw Kane Xiao sitting with his back turned, working hemp thread back and forth as if weaving something.

Hearing Ning Chan’s gentle, almost childlike voice, Kane Xiao instantly went rigid before forcing himself to loosen up.

"Yeah, waiting for you—no, I mean, I just couldn’t sleep after thinking about Archbishop Mitched’s words. I wasn’t waiting for you." As if he’d let his thoughts slip, Kane crumpled the half-finished hemp bag in his hands in frustration.

Seeing the boy’s face all scrunched up, too flustered to meet his eyes, Ning Chan’s foul mood finally improved a little.

He couldn’t resist reaching out to mess up that golden head of hair. The silky strands slipped through his fingers, like petting his old golden retriever.

That dog, who had been with him since childhood, had died many years ago—an eternity ago.

In a way, perhaps it was a kind of "luck"—it never had to endure the hunger of the apocalypse, nor did anyone ever eye it for dinner.

Ning Chan, feeling nostalgic, began to wonder whether he should get another pet—or maybe a few—once life settled down.

Since he’d already decided to live properly here, how could he not have a super-healing fluffy friend?

Thinking of this, Ning Chan felt a little regretful—there were no giant pandas on the Western Continent.

Ning Chan’s mood swings—from cheerful to gloomy—made Kane Xiao uneasy, too nervous to move.

Fortunately, Ning Chan was, at heart, a loner. This brief moment of closeness was already his limit. After exchanging a few more casual words, he ended the conversation, and they bid each other goodnight.

Though both lay in bed, their sleep was night and day.

Ning Chan fell into deep sleep within ten seconds.

This was a skill honed during the apocalypse—zombies could appear at any moment, so they had to fall asleep as quickly as possible to get enough rest. If something happened, they could wake instantly and enter combat mode.

In this, the presence of spiritual power played no small role.

Though Ning Chan was now sound asleep, if anyone approached with malicious intent, he would sense it immediately.

Thus, those who tried to assassinate him in his sleep often died faster than under normal circumstances.

The latter might still hesitate or deliberate, but the former acted purely on instinct—striking straight for the fatal point.

Compared to Ning Chan’s peaceful slumber, Kane Xiao lay awake, eyes dry and burning.

Earlier, driven by "just a sliver" of concern for Ning Chan, he had taken a secret passage to the space beneath Mitched’s room.

Through a ventilation shaft, he had heard Mitched’s screams, his accusations against Ning Chan, and his desperate pleas for mercy.

As for anything beyond that, he didn’t know.

First, the other person's voice had grown quieter, and second, he chose not to listen further.

Once sure Ning Chan was unharmed, Kane.Xiao swiftly retreated.

Curiosity could kill a man. Though Ning Chan had been relatively amiable in his presence, who knew what might happen if he discovered Kane had stumbled upon his secrets?

Ning Chan’s very existence defied Kane.Xiao’s comprehension, and without absolute certainty, he had no intention of confronting him directly.

Who knew whether that dog Mitched was dead or alive? Would tomorrow bring some big scene?

Thrilled by the prospect of chaos, Kane.Xiao tossed and turned forever before finally falling asleep.

When Kane.Xiao woke up, he realized he had overslept and almost missed breakfast.

But food could wait—what he shouldn’t miss was the show, right?

Kane.Xiao hurried to the dining hall, only to find everything unchanged. He even saw Archbishop Mitched standing on the platform, reciting hymns like nothing was wrong.

What was going on? He had clearly heard Mitched howling like a beaten dog the night before. Even if he wasn’t dead, he should at least be crippled.

Kane.Xiao’s good mood vanished in an instant. He took a deep breath, making sure his anger didn’t show on his face.

Dragging his feet, Kane.Xiao walked toward the food distribution area.

As he passed by Mitched, his nostrils flared slightly. He tilted his head slightly, glancing at the man on the platform.

Slowly, a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

So, this man was merely faking it.

The familiar scent of blood wafted from the other’s body. Upon closer inspection, the skin beneath his collar and within his wide sleeves looked anything but normal.

It was as if scorched by flames—red and black intertwined, hideous and revolting, making one reluctant to look a second time.

Yet Kane.Xiao wanted to tear off every piece of fabric covering him, inch by inch, to see just how ruined that flesh had become.

Funny—in his past life, he had burned this man once before.

That night, still raw from the news of his mother’s death, he had absently agreed to Archbishop Mitched’s request for a private conversation.

At first, he had been clueless what the man wanted. But when Mitched began undressing and touching his skin, realization struck.

This man dared lay hands on him. So what if he was the Sixth Church’s Archbishop? A filthy commoner wasn’t even worthy to lick his boots—how dare he entertain such absurd thoughts!

Naturally, Kane.Xiao would die before yielding. Though young, he had been properly trained in combat by his martial arts instructor. With a swift claw to Mitched’s nose, he made the man howl and let go.

Once free, Kane.Xiao tried to flee, but the door had been bolted at some point. Struggling with the latch wasted time, and before he could open it, Mitched seized him and threw him to the ground.

Stunned from the fall, Kane.Xiao barely managed to rise before Mitched slapped him hard across the face, leaving his ears ringing.

"Do you still think you’re the high and mighty Crown Prince? From the moment you were abandoned here, you should have prepared to lose everything—including yourself."

"You’re free to leave, but then, no one can guarantee your survival."

"After all, Queen Kina wants you dead." Mitched yanked Kane.Xiao’s golden hair, forcing his head up to meet his gaze.

Seeing that delicate, haughty little face twist with fear and fury, Mitched’s own expression contorted with excitement.

As the man puckered his foul lips to kiss him, Kane.Xiao burned with fury. He had never suffered such humiliation and indignity before.

Kane.Xiao violently kicked his leg upward, using the force to fling himself backward. He felt countless strands of his long hair being ripped out, the pain twisting his face into a grimace.

Clenching his teeth against the pain, Kane.Xiao desperately tried to escape, but an object smashed into the back of his head, sending him stumbling to the ground.

As he lay there, the heat around him intensified, the stinging pain searing into his flesh.

Through blurred vision, he saw red flames, coiling like serpents, tongues of fire lashing at him.

Then, he knew nothing more.

When Kane.Xiao awoke again, he found himself no longer in the church. Glancing around, he felt like he’d been tossed into a tangle of weeds.

His back and face throbbed relentlessly, tears streaming down like a waterfall.

Yet when those tears trailed down his cheeks, the pain made him want to choke them back.

The more it hurt, the more he wanted to cry—but the more he cried, the worse the pain became. In the end, Kane.Xiao could only tilt his head back in despair, letting the tears fall without touching his face.

Back then, though Kane.Xiao had narrowly escaped being defiled by that bastard, the candlestick thrown at him and the spilled lamp oil had left permanent scars.

His back was a mess of burns, and half his face had been scorched beyond recognition. He looked like a demon fresh from hell—ugly and terrifying.

Later, a "sorcerer" took him in. The man prevented his wounds from worsening, fed him well, and trained him to toughen up.

Kane.Xiao thought he had met a kind soul. He planned to stay there, biding his time until adulthood, when he could return to the royal capital, reclaim the throne, and take revenge on Kina and Miced.

But eventually, Kane.Xiao noticed something was wrong. He kept passing out, his health yo-yoing unpredictably, and sometimes he found small, unexplained wounds.

With Miced’s cruelty still fresh in his mind, Kane.Xiao grew wary of the sorcerer, Oru.

Soon, he discovered Oru was drugging his food, forcing strange potions down his throat, and drawing his blood to feed something.

Kane.Xiao either spat out or dumped half those brews, playing this lethal cat-and-mouse game with Oru for two years—until he had learned all the man’s tricks. Then, he killed him first.

Kane.Xiao had long known he wasn’t Oru’s only test subject. The bones buried in the herb field numbered at least ten. Killing him was just taking out the trash.

Looking back on that past hell, Kane.Xiao marveled at his own resilience—no matter how much he suffered, he never died.

This time, surely things wouldn’t be that bad again?

Bowl in hand, Kane.Xiao sat down and flashed a sweet smile at the person beside him.

No matter what, just knowing this man had also burned Miced made Kane.Xiao certain Ning Chan couldn’t be a bad person.

Ning Chan, about to speak, turned and met Kane’s smile. Instantly, his heart melted—last night’s magic had been worth it.

Such an adorable little angel, such a radiant smile—how could he not protect him properly?

Perfect timing. Miced had just mentioned Maifeipu had already taken the bait. Later, he’d give that bastard a little "present."