Chapter Fifty-Four: Memories of Master and Disciple

Xiaoyu belonged to the Light Elf race, with slender pointed ears and fair skin. If he truly was a Light Elf, he should have possessed a noble and revered lineage, living a carefree life in the beautiful forests atop the Western Sea. Yet, it was the taint of darkness that became the source of all these tragedies...

Thinking of Xiaoyu, Heiyu’s steps involuntarily slowed as he gazed into the pitch-black night sky, grief welling up within him, impossible to express. Memories of those days spent in the prison of darkness resurfaced—the times when he and Xiaoyu would hold hands through the iron bars, encouraging each other to survive.

He recalled Xiaoyu’s final words: “I want to go home...”

Once, in that world of utter darkness, they had been the faint light sustaining one another. Now, since Xiaoyu was still alive, Heiyu had found a new purpose. He resolved silently: no matter the cost, he would find Xiaoyu!

“Heiyu, what’s wrong?” Ling Xiaolei had noticed his unusual silence.

“It’s nothing. In a bit, you should head back to the academy. I have something to take care of.”

“What is it? I’ll keep you company.”

“No need,” Heiyu replied. “I just want to have a drink at the bar.”

“Really, that’s all? As it happens, I want to visit Boss Ling’s place and read anyway.”

Heiyu wasn’t in the mood to argue with her, so he let her tag along.

The streets at night were hushed. They had already reached Central Plaza. In front of the fountain, Ling Xiaolei hurried ahead, stopping behind Lingmeng. She turned, gesturing animatedly to her slender biceps, mouthing exaggeratedly but without sound, repeating the same message to Heiyu:

“I’m the strongest support!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her silly antics.

Inside the Demonbane Empire’s bar, the hour was late and there weren’t as many patrons as usual. Small groups sat at tables in the booths, drinking and playing cards, the air thick with the intoxicating scent of spirits and dim golden light.

Ling Xiaolei went upstairs to the study to read. At the bar counter, only Heiyu and Lingxi remained.

Heiyu took his usual seat, just as he always did. After downing several drinks, his vision grew hazy; he slumped gently over the smooth counter, one hand propping up his head, the other swirling the liquor in his glass.

“Boss Ling, who knows everything, you must know what’s between Xiaoyu and me, right?” Heiyu asked.

Lingxi calmly washed glasses behind the bar. He had expected Heiyu to come with questions, and saw no reason to hide the truth.

“I have a general idea.”

“Then why did you stop me from seeing him? He was the most important friend in my life, I’m not exaggerating.” Heiyu leaned closer, both elbows on the bar. “You said he’s your apprentice?”

“That’s right,” Lingxi replied lightly.

“I remember he once mentioned having a master... When did you two meet? Was it before he came to the institute?”

Lingxi sighed, a heaviness settling in his chest. He set down the glass, no longer in the mood to tidy up.

“To tell the truth, I feel deeply ashamed as his master.” He leaned against the bar, his gaze softening as he recalled the past.

“Before coming to the Holy City, I was the Dark Elf King, residing in the marshes of the Western Sea’s divine domain...”

Heiyu propped up his chin, astonished. “The... Dark Elf King?!”

Since he had decided to speak openly, Lingxi saw no need to conceal his identity. His voice was low and tinged with age as he continued:

“At that time, my tribe and the Light Elf tribe were separated only by a river. The first time I met Xiaoyu, he was just five years old...”

That day, Lingxi sat upon a throne of vines beneath a massive tree when his tribesmen hurried over, carrying a child wrapped in dark cloth. The left side of the boy’s body was already decaying, blackened and shrouded in darkness. Feverish and barely breathing, he lay unconscious.

“Lord Dark Elf King, we found this child at the edge of the marshes. He’s a Light Elf, likely abandoned by his own people.”

Upon hearing that a Light Elf had been tainted by darkness, Lingxi rose at once.

“Bring him here!”

To the Light Elves, one infected by darkness was a curse, a harbinger of misfortune. People shunned them as if they carried the plague. Abandoning such children at the border of the Dark Elf lands had become common practice.

Yet Lingxi knew that, while most infected perished, a rare few possessed exceptional constitutions. These survivors could not only live but also assimilate with demonic energy, becoming even stronger entities.

His tribesmen laid the boy before him. Lingxi’s fingers traced the child’s body as he activated the Eye of Insight to assess the infection, and he was surprised to discover:

“Fortunately, the physical damage isn’t beyond repair. The points of contact between the darkness and his body are already beginning to fuse. An Elf who can merge with the darkness is a once-in-a-millennium rarity, with a high chance of recovery!... Bring him to my residence—I’ll treat him myself.”

Over the years, Light Elf children abandoned at the marsh’s edge were not uncommon, but most did not survive. Xiaoyu was the exception; he lived.

Among the Elves, such exceptions were known as “Variants.” Variants could learn the magic of the Dark Elf tribe, inherit at least one nature-based magical attribute, and retained the fair skin of the Light Elves. Their lifespans also far exceeded the ordinary, reaching thousands or even tens of thousands of years.

This longevity was a result of the influence of darkness. Ordinary demons typically lived for thousands or even tens of thousands of years. Likewise, Variants possessed lifespans far surpassing those of ordinary Elves, closer to the demon race. The fusion of dark blood granted them rapid regenerative abilities as well.

In essence, “Variants” were beings who stood above both Light and Dark Elves.

For this reason, Lingxi cared deeply for the child. They resembled each other, and among the entire Dark Elf village, only Lingxi and the boy shared that pale skin.

The boy’s name was Lingyu. After his condition improved, he fully merged with the demon within and appeared no different from a normal boy. He gradually adapted to life among the tribe, and Lingxi took him as a disciple, tending to him with fatherly affection.

The days of happiness and carefreeness lasted about two years. Then, disaster struck...

Somehow, the White Scorpion from the institute caught wind of the news and came searching in the Light Elf village for traces of infected children.

Eventually, they learned the location of the boy’s family. White Scorpion and several subordinates knocked on the door of a treehouse. Xiaoyu’s mother, puzzled, stepped outside.