Amidst the circus, everything twisted and contorted. Piercing laughter echoed as a voice announced, “For our grand performance tonight, our first act is ‘The Counting Puppies!'”
As Veyrpan’s psychic energy madly converged, in an instant, seven or eight silly-looking pugs appeared by Long Shiyu’s side, appearing absolutely adorable. That is, if you ignored the fact that their lower halves had nothing left but white bones standing as tall as two or three persons.
Even among legendary exotic creatures, Veyrpan’s psychic energy was top-notch. The animals he materialized might seem harmless, but they were as dangerous as high-level exotic creatures. One hundred thirty years ago in Kassand, the association was driven to desperation by an army of creatures made entirely from this pure psychic energy.
The next moment, the pugs roared, revealing layers of shark-like teeth, lunging at Long Shiyu.
Long Shiyu remained expressionless, delivering a simple hook punch. The nearest pug’s skull shattered instantly, its brain matter splattering before dissipating into psychic energy.
Then, grabbing another dog by the neck, he swung it around with immense force. Not only did the audible crack of bones resonate from the one in his grip, but the surrounding creatures were also sent flying.
He flung the creature from his hand as if discarding a pile of mud. An announcement with sharp intonation came: “Let’s welcome the ‘Apple Throwing Knives and Dancing Bears’ act!”
In the air, thousands of blades appeared instantly. There were gleaming curved swords and short blades designed for bleeding, samurai swords and gleaming tachis, and even colorful fruit knives and tiny paper-cutting knives. All these different blades of different eras were gathered like farce.
A farce filled with murderous intent.
Beside Long Shiyu, a bright red apple appeared. Veyrpan’s voice came from an unknown direction, “The performance is about to begin. Watch closely.”
As with every previous battle, Veyrpan concealed himself in the shadows. He knew he was no match for Long Shiyu head-on, but this was a golden opportunity. If the psychic attacks were relentless, the injured Long Shiyu would eventually run out of strength.
Long Shiyu, without a word, took the floating apple and bit into it.
It tasted awful.
Countless blades poured down, radiating blinding silver light. Tossing the apple aside, Long Shiyu, with his transformed right hand, easily gripped the approaching bear. His left hand raised—
His eyes blazed like molten gold, and a massive dragon’s breath exploded in the air.
The circus seats vaporized, the blades turned to ash within a second. Veyrpan felt blinded by the intense light, even with his psychic energy protecting his eyes. He had heard of the indomitable dragon’s breath of Akasamo, but seeing it with his own eyes still instilled fear. The world seemed to be engulfed in blinding radiance, reminiscent of nuclear explosions from Earth’s era, or starbursts from the interstellar age.
This was a power born to annihilate everything.
…But this won’t be the end.
Veyrpan clenched his stinging eyes shut, his immense psychic energy rolling through the air. Akasamo had no psychic power, and Veyrpan was brimming with it. He had to capitalize on this advantage.
If only he could get through the dragon’s breath for just a moment.
An acute announcement resonated amid the flames, “Next up — our ‘Silk-Hanging Damsels’ act!”
Floating colorful silk appeared in the air, and masked women adorned in sequined tight suits swiftly moved, grabbing the silks and leaping over the flames, protected by Veyrpan’s psychic force. In this process, his psychic energy rapidly depleted, and he could almost feel the heat searing through his psychic energy, burning his body.
From the onset, Veyrpan had gone all out, believing his elite circus troops would easily overcome mere hunters. But his opponent was Akasamo, the most powerful king on the throne. The might of the dragon’s breath had his overwhelming psychic energy on the brink of depletion.
Yet, he succeeded.
The women bypassed the terrifying dragon’s breath. But as they neared Long Shiyu, one by one they fell: the first was impaled by dragon claws, the second was crushed to smithereens, the third’s head was crushed as if made of paper, the fourth was consumed by dragon’s breath… As each body fell to Long Shiyu’s effortless strikes, a glimpse of agony flashed across his face.
Old wounds seared through his nerves, causing a momentary lapse in the raging dragon’s breath.
Veyrpan seized this moment of vulnerability.
Unleashing every last bit of his psychic energy, the circus’s cheers echoed everywhere, and an announcement boomed, “The highlight of our show is here: the ‘Goat-riding Monkeys’ act!”
On the stage, monkeys donning colorful hats shrieked and rode on goats, charging in droves. The act of crossing the dragon’s breath seemed simpler this time. After several monkeys turned to ashes, the goats began to circle Long Shiyu like a whirlwind, with the monkeys brandishing little knives near him—
The blade, with just a single strike, could effortlessly slice through heavy exoskeletons.
Yet Long Shiyu caught it with his bare hands, and not even a scratch appeared on his dragon scales.
He tossed the blade from his right hand to the left; a human hand was much more suited to nimbly wielding a knife.
“I’ve mopped the floor at a martial arts dojo before,” he muttered.
The next second, he leapt into the air, trampling over a surge of goats, slashing open the throats of the monkeys.
The blood burst forth but didn’t touch his sleeves. Dragon’s breath continued to consume everything, the monkeys didn’t even get the chance to scream before being silenced.
Veyrpan’s psychic energy was nearing depletion.
There was no need to hide any longer.
“… The final act has arrived! Clang clang clang – Our leader – Our most devoted and greatest clown is about to take the stage. Let’s welcome him with the warmest of applause!”
For a moment, everything around fell silent.
When Veyrpan appeared, he stood at center stage, the spotlight casting a long shadow behind him. He wore colorful theater clothes and a smile hung on his face as he slowly put on a crying clown mask.
He swung his black cane and adjusted the tassels on his chest before bowing to the empty seats.
It seemed like a normal opening, but his shadow behind him was continuously morphing. From an ordinary human figure, it grew wildly, reaching a height of two or three meters. The arms vanished, replaced by terrifying…scythes?
After his deep bow, he stood upright, completely transformed.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
His eyes had turned emerald green, massive black scythes replaced his hands, filled with countless sharp spikes – a unique weapon belonging to a mantis. His body also underwent various changes, slender antennae sprouting, thin translucent wings unfurling behind, with a radiating pattern of black and red. The oversized clown shoes lay abandoned on the spot – his feet had become the slightly pointed legs of a mantis.
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In an instant, his scythe was at Long Shiyu’s neck.
Pushing his limits for this finale, his speed was unbelievably fast.
Long Shiyu barely managed to step back, this attack finally reaching him and tearing a large gash in his black vest.
“Ah, this is someone’s custom-made gift,” Long Shiyu remarked. “It’s bad if it gets ruined.”
Veyrpan stamped his foot, causing the ground to crack like a spider web. He twisted his waist and spun around, his left scythe coming with a deadly afterimage.
This close-range angle was perfect, and Long Shiyu couldn’t evade. He reached out with his right hand to grab the scythe, and sparks erupted upon contact.
Veyrpan was no match for Long Shiyu’s strength, but in a flash, the right scythe was also against the dragon’s claw. Using his strength, Veyrpan jumped, showcasing the horrifying jumping ability of a mantis. The spotlight followed him, illuminating his every move.
His leap was perfect, worthy of applause.
Like a grand performance, the audience’s gaze was firmly locked on him, too captivated to look away.
Then a series of sparks erupted.
The scythe’s movement became too fast to see, with only the terrifying sounds of collision audible. Veyrpan’s wings fluttered as he moved in strange patterns – spinning, jumping, turning, advancing, retreating. It was an outstanding solo performance, and the audience’s screams, claps, and cheers were deafening.
Amidst those sparks, he laughed madly and shouted, “Where do you wish to go? To death or paradise?”
Another sharp screech—
Blood splattered on the dimly lit stairs.
The right scythe completely broke, that final all-out strike causing it to shatter. Blood stained Veyrpan’s theater clothes, and the intense pain forced him back half a step.
Before him, there was finally a visible scratch on Long Shiyu’s silver-white scales.
But that was all.
That was all he could do.
Long Shiyu was slightly out of breath, his collar slightly open revealing his pale skin, a bead of sweat on his forehead making his face look even more radiant under the lights.
Veyrpan knew that only a small part of that breathlessness was due to his attack, the rest was from that wound.
Long Shiyu was still comfortably in control.
Veyrpan remarked, “How was it? Wasn’t my performance spectacular?”
Long Shiyu slowly asked, “… Why?”
The clown mask slipped off Veyrpan’s face, splitting into two in mid-air. Due to his frenzied movements, it was cleanly split down the middle. As it fell, it turned into white powder.
The tear-streaked face of the mask vanished, revealing a smiling countenance beneath.
…
Golden flecks in the air turned into spears that kept thrusting down, leaving destruction in their wake. Most of the human-faced flowers below were dead, their pots shattered, leaves and stems scattered. Over a dozen half-skeletal creatures were struck precisely through their skulls, pinning them to the ground.
They soon returned to their dispersed psychic form.
Oil lamps floated serenely around, while Shen Zhaomu slowly approached the center of the stage.
Veyrpan’s black scythe was marred with scars, and he was gasping heavily.
He had encountered numerous hunters before. A hundred and thirty years ago in Kassand, he, with an army conjured from his psychic force, had defeated them. As applause and praises rose, the streets of the upper city lay in ruins, just as the circus was drawing to a grand finale.
Yet none had ever achieved what the man before him could.
The battle surpassed his imagination. His sheer strength, speed, and battle instincts – if not for the distinctly non-beastly aura, he would have doubted if the man was even human.
The stage lit up again, and the previously lifeless puppets began to move.
The boy puppet remarked, “Your performance today was splendid. Just as I said, people will love your show. I’ll come to see you again tomorrow.”
The puppet dressed as a performer, with blossoming flowers on his head, lifted a wine glass, “Let’s drink heartily, my friend. I love the golden clouds as they let my zebra run freely. Yet tonight’s moonlight is equally beautiful.”
They clinked glasses, the wine creating a beautiful splash.
Then, like a broken tape in an old recorder or a silent black and white film, the two puppets repeated their actions.
Wine splashed, and smiles froze at their most radiant.
Veyrpan’s teeth chattered, “Stop… don’t show me this… get rid of them.”
His every nerve radiated agitation. He had personally directed this play, but now, Shen Zhaomu could feel the chaotic psychic force of the creatures in the air.
Veyrpan had reached his limit, battered and drained. He could no longer control his own chaotic psychic power.
Shen Zhaomu slowly advanced. The creature before him was now terrified to the point of madness, blood trickling down his temple. Seemingly close to a breakdown, he yelled, “Get the hell away! Don’t show me the events of that day again!” followed by chaotic beastly sounds, unintelligible in content.
Shen Zhaomu silently stopped five meters away from him. Veyrpan’s pupils dilated, his head bowed. He was nearly invisible at this point.
There seemed to be a fleeting trace of sadness in Shen Zhaomu’s eyes, but it was so fleeting that one might think it was an illusion.
He said, “I don’t want to kill you, but if I let you go, you’ll harm others.”
Veyrpan, as if hearing or murmuring to himself, responded, “Only… only by consuming them can I gain more power…”
Lunacy returned to his eyes. “The throne… I must have the throne… I need to find Akasamo…”
With that, he stumbled towards the tent’s exit—
A golden spear descended from the sky, landing fiercely in front of him, blocking his way.
Veyrpan’s gaze slowly shifted to Shen Zhaomu.
A bloody mark marred the side of Shen Zhaomu’s face, left by Veyrpan’s scythe earlier. The blood drew his attention, and his green eyes lit up, “If I… if I consume you… then I can find that guy.”
Stumbling, he moved towards Shen Zhaomu.
“Thank you for your performance tonight,” Shen Zhaomu remarked instead, extending his hand.
Veyrpan expected a blinding attack through his chest.
But it didn’t come.
Instead, Shen Zhaomu held a circus ticket, “A brilliant curtain call. I watched it all.”
The spear pierced Veyrpan’s heart. He knelt slowly, reaching out weakly, trying to grasp something.
A rose was placed in his hand.
Bright red, beautiful, and captivating.
A final tribute from the only audience member.
Veyrpan’s eyes widened slightly.
Then, he managed a genuine, though ghastly, smile.
“…Goodnight.” The man whispered in his fading vision.
…
“Why?” Veyrpan asked, “What are you asking?”
Long Shiyu replied, “Had you stayed with your other self from the beginning, or not used your psychic force to maintain this circus tent, maybe you could have harmed me.”
Veyrpan grinned, “I never got along with that guy… And your human seems quite capable. Isn’t he holding the other me back? As for this circus tent,” he cast a sidelong glance, “How could you understand? What if he returned and couldn’t find me?”
“…Ah, it seems that guy’s already dead.” A psychic connection had been severed. Weary, Veyrpan continued, “But the human you like seems like a good person… It’s a shame I didn’t meet many good ones. You’re truly fortunate.”
The scythe vanished, all beastly traits faded, reverting him to pure human form.
A silver dragon claw pierced his chest, crushing his heart.
“Goodbye,” he smiled, “It looks like the circus is closing for good tonight.”
Long Shiyu withdrew his sharp claw.
The man before him fell. Scales rapidly retreated beneath his skin, and in less than a second, it returned to its smooth state. His long fingers remained as beautiful as ever.
He gasped for breath. The blood loss from the curse made him somewhat weak. After the dragon transformation, the old wound became even more ferocious, tugging at his nerves in pain. On a normal day, he wouldn’t care about pain, but this curse was so malicious that even he couldn’t help but slightly frown.
Without the support of Veyrpan’s psychic power, the place reverted to its original appearance—just the regular interior decoration of Kassand’s circus tent. However, all the seats had been destroyed, leaving the place in a state of chaos, looking like it had been hit by a hurricane. Had there been no psychic power earlier, it probably would’ve been razed to the ground.
Long Shiyu sat down on a half-intact step.
It seemed that his princess was safe. He needed a moment to rest.
Half a minute later, a man dressed in a black suit silently appeared behind him.
He quietly observed Long Shiyu, his gaze filled with warmth and… a certain twisted delight.
He slowly approached, seemingly about to caress Long Shiyu’s cheek—
But his hand passed through, as he was merely an illusion.
“You’re still as handsome as ever,” he whispered.
Long Shiyu glanced at him coldly.
“It’s been a while. As I thought, you are here,” the man said with a gentle smile. “What, don’t you like the gift I gave you? You’ll receive another one today.”
Long Shiyu ignored him. Standing up, he dusted off his clothes and headed towards the exit of the circus tent.
The man called out from behind, “I’m really looking forward to the day I pull you off the throne. What expression will you wear then? Will you suffer from your injuries? Will you beg for my salvation?” He licked his canine teeth, “Just imagining it excites me beyond belief.”
Long Shiyu left the tent.
Outside, it reverted to a regular construction area, the ground uneven with tools scattered about.
The sound of a thunderstorm reached his ears, as muffled thunder rumbled above.
His enemy, hidden in the clouds, approached with great anticipation.
Before he could think of a response, an anxious voice cried out, “Shiyu!”
Long Shiyu turned his head. In the next moment, Shen Zhaomu pulled him into an embrace. When Shen Zhaomu saw the extent of Long Shiyu’s injuries, his pupils dilated—
Then, with an unprecedented panic, he said, “Don’t be scared, I’ll get you out of here right away.”
From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the tent Long Shiyu had just exited. Although he couldn’t clearly see the extent of the damage, he was certain that it wasn’t something that a dragon with a bloodline more than five-times-removed could’ve caused. But his focus wasn’t on that. All he could think about was getting him out.
He had to get him out.
Behind them, the end of the play echoed. The dolls’ heads were still adorned with blooming flowers. But no dazzling stage lights shone anymore.
A single untouched human-faced flower swayed alone in the audience.
In the darkness, it spread its branches and leaves, trying to mimic voices of the past.
“Hey,” a voice abruptly sounded out.
“Let’s dance with the bears.”
…
Shen Zhaomu held the quiet young man in his arms.
They hadn’t walked far when Long Shiyu began to stir. Shen Zhaomu warned, “Don’t move…”
But before he could finish, Long Shiyu reached up and hooked an arm around his neck. Seemingly in a daze, he mumbled, “I want a late-night snack…”
“Be good, once we’re out, I’ll let you eat.”
“…Sob,” came a soft reply.
But soon, Shen Zhaomu realized what Long Shiyu wanted to do.
The young man’s warm breath brushed against him. Slightly parting his lips, he seemed to want to pierce Shen Zhaomu’s neck with his sharp canine teeth—
Dragons, after all, are a species that delights in blood and slaughter. Though they don’t rely on blood as vampires do, when injured, they crave it. Sucking blood provides them comfort and pleasure and can even accelerate the healing of wounds.
The Shen family’s dragon hunting principles echoed in his mind for a brief second.
Only a brief second.
Shen Zhaomu allowed Long Shiyu to bury his face in his shoulder, the sharp canine teeth piercing his neck. It felt strangely surreal; the blood flowed out but it wasn’t too painful. He could hear the sound of sucking beside his ear, and he could feel the temperature of the young man’s breaths, lips and tongue.
It was hotter than his surging blood.
The silver dragon tail, which had been trailing behind, now tightly coiled around his right leg, winding up to his ankle, not letting go. It was filled with a profound and lingering attachment.
Holding Long Shiyu, Shen Zhaomu kept moving forward.
Ominous noises faintly echoed from behind. They had to leave now.
The soft black hair of the young man brushed against his chin, bringing a scent of wilderness. Long Shiyu wrapped his arms around Shen Zhaomu’s back, and his slender fingers now slightly tightened, causing wrinkles in Shen Zhaomu’s clothes.
It tickled, as if they were clutching right at his heart.
The author has something to say:
One cutesy sob a day: 1/1
There’s still a tiny bit left to Veyrpan’s story~
You really need to learn how to peel an onion in case your true identity is exposed. If you do it too fast, you’ll end up crying~
TN: Wasn’t ready for the feels…
Ah 😭😭😭 Will we learn why Jack never came back next chapter?
We will… kinda. But I don’t know if you want to know the reason…
the thing I want to know is not about Jack but “u” (-_-#)
Y do u update so less chapter (╥﹏╥) I know I’m been childish and clearly know u have ur own life and drama
But I still hope no- I beg u to update more plz (ﾉ*>∀<)ﾉ♡
you’ve answered your own question! I have my own life and drama 🙂
😭❤
Rip circus master
Can the circus master and his audience finally meet? Even in death please grant his last wish😭😭😭😭😭😭
RIP Circus Master. May you meet your beloved audience in the after life
The vest is close to being reveled and also the advisement of there relationship❤ i wonder what happened before in it?
Also I feel bad for vaporin, was that flower the human? If so thats almost words :((
Worse*
I like that Shen Zhaomu knows he’s a dragon – even if he doesn’t know which dragon – and therefore how to care for him. The image of the mighty hunter carrying a wounded dragon sucking his neck is kind of mind-blowing. Like, is it hot or is it sweet and am I a creep for even wondering 😵