FLME Ch31: Battle Royale Recording

Jian Heng removed his blindfold.

He was clearly situated in the banquet hall on the castle’s first floor. He was seated right at the long table in the center of the hall, illuminated by the warm, flickering halo of candelabras scattering light across the surrounding space.

The windows seemed to be shuttered or draped with something, leaving the hall dim and murky, as though it were late at night.

Staircases flanked both sides, their brass banisters winding upward. Perched at each landing stood a brass bird poised for flight, its ruby eyes glinting dark and deep under the dim candlelight.

Looking upward, there ought to have been a chandelier suspended overhead. Yet embedded in the domed ceiling was only an encircling relief of a dragon carved from colored stained glass. Its eyes were half-lidded, and its ferocious, grotesque visage radiated an ominous, suffocating aura.

Jian Heng recalled the broadcast saying, “Welcome to the Dragon’s Castle…” A sudden shudder ran down his spine. Not daring to look any longer, he lowered his head to take stock of the scattered items around him:

One lute.

One crossbody satchel.

A few ink pens.

One poetry book.

Inside the satchel were various odds and ends whose practical uses he couldn’t quite discern yet.

He flipped through the poetry collection. It contained several self-composed poems; the handwriting on the initial pages was aged and faded, while the final pages cut off midway through the notebook, clearly indicating this book had been in use for a very long time.

Most of the verses chronicled “his” travels across various realms—local histories, customs, and legends of renowned figures. The final few pages, however, broke the pattern, reading more like a diary:

I think he is about to die.

Or rather, he died long ago.

The departure of his companions brought him agonizing grief. The last surviving companion surrendered the chance of life to him, yet he could find no way out.

“Carry everyone’s blessings and live on.”

What an impossible promise to fulfill.

That cross-hilted greatsword was awe-inspiring and majestic, yet all he could do was clutch it to his chest, quietly waiting for his soul’s end.

In his final fading moments, he asked me to play him a rendition of Greensleeves.

He said it was a song from his homeland.

[I cannot get out.]

So read the final page.

Beyond that, pasted onto the inside of the hardcover, he discovered a pivotal clue provided by the production team:

You are the recorder; you are the participant.

The recorder? The participant?

Jian Heng shook his head in puzzlement. Stuffing the scattered bits into his bag, he finally remembered to check his health bar. He flipped his hand over—and nearly jumped out of his skin.

He only had one-third of his health left!

What the hell?! Is the air in here toxic?!

Jian Heng nearly blacked out. Snapping to his senses, he grabbed his satchel and lute, bolting toward the restroom at a full-on hundred-meter sprint.

Wet towel, wet towel… Wet towel, save my dog life!

He tore off like a galloping colt, failing to notice that on the banister behind him, the brass bird let out an almost imperceptible buzz before slowly fluttering its rigid wings.

Bursting into the restroom, Jian Heng couldn’t find a single towel. In desperation, he stripped off the vest beneath his coat, doused it in water, and slapped it over his mouth and nose.

Three minutes ticked by. His second health bar drained down to zero, showing no sign of slowing.

Jian Heng chanted in his head: Calm down, calm down, calm down… The production crew wouldn’t be sadistic enough to pull an instant kill right at the start. There has to be a way out…

Standing before the mirror, he repeatedly ran his wet fingers through his bangs, hoping that clearing his vision would clear his head.

Yet the reflection staring back at him was the face of a boy thoroughly consumed by panic.

A faint glint of red flashed in his peripheral vision. Anxious and unsettled, Jian Heng snapped his gaze toward it, locking onto a pair of deep, glowing ruby eyes.

A brass bird.

It perched atop a restroom stall, wings spread, staring unblinkingly straight into the mirror.

Locking eyes with it through the glass, an icy chill crept up Jian Heng’s spine.

A deathly quiet restroom.

Only the rhythmic drip, drop of water.

While Jian Heng’s brain was frantically running a marquee of profanities, the bird tilted its head in jerky, mechanical twitches, radiating an eerily human trace of… curiosity.

Mom, Mom, Mom, there’s a ghost bird—!!!

Even though he knew full well this was most likely an NPC planted by the crew, Jian Heng still couldn’t escape the double whammy of eerie atmosphere and psychological dread. Swallowing down a curse stuck in his throat, he spun on his heel to flee!

The door swung wide open, and he almost crashed head-on into Yu Wen, who was just walking in to use the restroom. Jian Heng’s brain went completely blank. After a dazed second, he blurted out: “Holy shit, holy shit, Xiao Yu, save me!”

With agility bordering on teleportation, he ducked right behind Yu Wen.

Yu Wen was shoved forward, utterly bewildered. Looking up, he saw the brass bird perched on the stall partition.

“…”

Locking eyes with those crimson gems, Yu Wen fell silent for a beat before offering a sincere: “Pardon me.”

In an instant, he thrust the tip of his scabbard forward, magnetically snapping the “ghost” down.

The bird hadn’t anticipated this trick. Once snagged, it flapped its wings frantically, trying to break free. Little did it know that on his way here, Yu Wen had already tested this on at least five other brass birds; by now, his technique was ruthlessly polished, worthy of the title ‘Ghost Hunter.’

With practiced ease, he whipped out his portable ink bottle and dunked the bird’s head straight into it. When it came out, both ruby eyes were coated in thick black ink, completely stripped of visual functionality.

He even blew on it twice to help the ink dry faster.

Finally, Yu Wen carried the bird outside the restroom and released it, shouting warmly, “Fly free!”

The crew member operating the remote control behind the bird: “…”

Having performed his good deed for the day, Yu Wen turned back around to find Jian Heng staring at him, utterly dumbfounded.

Jian Heng: “I have quite a few questions. Mr. Yu, would you mind answering them one by one…?”

Yu Wen: “Fire away, Xiao Jian.”

Ghosts were lurking everywhere outside, making it unsafe to wander aimlessly. With Jian Heng’s identity still unconfirmed, Yu Wen had no intention of bringing him back to his private study either. Thus, the two simply set up camp in the restroom to compare notes.

Yu Wen cradled his sword, leaning half against the sink counter.

Jian Heng kept casting hesitant glances toward the sword from the corner of his eye, hovering between speaking up and holding back.

“First of all…”

“Mm.”

“Are you running cheat codes?”

“…You call that ‘first of all’?”

The dagger reveals itself as soon as the map unrolls—your Yan State map is a bit too short, isn’t it?

Jian Heng rephrased: “What on earth was that bird just now? Creeped the hell out of me.”

“A ‘ghost.’ Didn’t the broadcast say? Ghosts are everywhere.”

“How did you know it was a ghost?”

“That’s a long story… Long story short, I paid for that knowledge with a harrowing toll of blood.”

A whole third of his health bar had vanished into thin air!

Realizing something, Jian Heng subtly tucked his left hand—which bore his exposed health bar—behind his back.

“Could it be that today’s NPCs… aren’t human…?” he murmured.

Anyone who had done their homework beforehand knew that NPCs in Battle Royale were ubiquitous, liable to pop out at any point while guests performed their tasks. Certain NPCs were intensely aggressive, practically spending their entire screen time hunting guests down. The surface of each guest’s costume was treated with a sensor coating; a single touch would send health bars plummeting.

Before filming started this season, the producer had teased on social media that Season 3 was receiving a full-scale upgrade with over a hundred million in brand sponsorship, promising to deliver a brand-new visual experience for viewers while urging the cast to brace themselves…

So this is where the upgrade went?

While these ghost birds lacked the overwhelming physical presence of human NPCs, they moved completely silently, exuding an uncanny, chilling vibe. Furthermore, there were far more of them, making them much harder to spot. It was genuinely hard to say which type was more terrifying.

Yu Wen asked, “Caught on?”

Jian Heng shot him a peculiar look.

A novel NPC mechanic like ghost birds was clearly designed to catch prepared guests or veterans from previous seasons off guard. Relying on past experience, they would naturally assume they needed to look out for humanoid NPCs jumping out from the shadows. By the time they realized their health was draining at an abnormal rate and went looking for the cause, it would be far too late.

Someone reacting as lightning-fast as Yu Wen was the real anomaly.

Jian Heng pressed, “Then what about your sword? Why can it catch ghosts?”

Yu Wen didn’t miss a beat: “Because my identity today is Ghost Hunter.”

Jian Heng: “…Talk like a human being, please.”

Yu Wen sighed. “The crew installed a special mechanism at the tip of the scabbard. I don’t know what it’s for yet, but it’s bound to be tied to some hidden contraption in this castle. That mechanism likely contains a magnetic element, which snaps onto the ghost birds like a magnet.”

The “ghosts” were today’s primary NPC gimmick; there was no way the crew would hand him an intentional cheat code. The mechanism at the base of the scabbard had to be a key meant for some late-game contraption, intended to be unearthed only after sufficient clues had surfaced. Yet Yu Wen had stumbled onto it by pure accident, uncovering the mechanism and discovering an exploit in the process.

If he hadn’t been worried about failing to put it back together, he would have loved to pry the device out of the base right then and there. Finding its matching contraption would uncover the critical clues the crew wanted to conceal until the very end, potentially allowing him to clear the game painlessly and smash the all-time speedrun record for the quickest escape.

Yu Wen stroked the scabbard, feeling a mischievous urge stirring inside.

However, taking the entertainment value of the show into consideration, he reluctantly suppressed the impulse.

Jian Heng nodded thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the rim of his satchel. “…What is your role?”

Yu Wen looked at him, offering a smile without answering.

Jian Heng threw up his hands in resignation. “Cooperation is the only path to a win-win. We might be each other’s direct prey, but we might not be, either… Without trading information, we won’t even know our storylines.”

“How do you propose we trade?”

Jian Heng said, “I have a book of poetry. What do you have?”

“A personal journal.”

Jian Heng: “A swap.”

“Sure.” Yu Wen agreed briskly this time, his eyes crinkling into sweet crescents. He looked as though he had never harbored an ounce of suspicion, placing unconditional trust in the person before him.

Jian Heng had watched the variety show that made Yu Wen blow up overnight; he knew exactly how deceptive this innocent-looking colleague could be. Yet standing here now, Jian Heng realized the netizens were right: intellect was one thing, but the visceral feedback from one’s optical nerves was another entirely.

Truly, it was almost impossible not to fall for it.

[William I’s Reign, Year 2 — Overcast]

A youth approached me, inviting me to form a team to rescue the Princess from the Dragon.

I refused.

Boring.

[William I’s Reign, Year 2 — Sunny]

The youth returned. Fine… although he praised me as an unmatched Grand Archmage unique in human history, I still have no interest in rescuing princesses.

Boring.

With that time, I should be studying magic.

[William I’s Reign, Year 2 — Sunny]

Seven days have passed. I must admit, this boy moved me; he is worth me raising my staff once.

…It definitely wasn’t because his buttered bread tasted delicious.

…

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

The party formed by myself, the Hero, the Elf, and the Dwarf successfully rescued the Princess. The King hosted a lavish commendation ceremony in our honor.

The Hero conquered the Dragon, and they seem to have become remarkable friends.

Ha, this boy actually became friends with a dragon.

Fascinating.

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

The Princess invited us to the palace for a banquet.

I suspect the one she truly wished to invite was the Hero, while the remaining three of us in the Hero’s party were merely dragged along. Not surprising, considering they grew up together and share deep bonds; the great Archmage can forgive them this once.

Love deserves tolerance.

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Cloudy]

Strange. The Princess invited me for the first dance.

Did she have a falling out with the Hero?

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

Today the Princess told me some very intriguing things. Let me think…

She believes humans can befriend dragons, humans can befriend tiny ants, and humans can befriend flowers in a garden bed…

She claimed she and the clouds in the sky were good friends!

Is it because she is only fifteen?

Fascinating!

[William I’s Reign, Year 4 — Overcast]

The Princess is a very endearing little girl. She is rather lively and loves tussling with the Hero over buttered bread. Their bond is truly sweet; watching them makes me feel as if fresh, green sprouts are budding on my own aged branches.

Yet I am a half-elf mage; I am perhaps older than the Princess’s father.

[William I’s Reign, Year 6 — Sunny]

The Princess has grown up a bit more. She is no longer just an endearing little girl, but a beautiful young woman.

The King arranges suitors for her, but none meet her approval.

[William I’s Reign, Year 9 — Sunny]

The Princess gifted me an iris ring. It is very beautiful.

Why didn’t she give it to the Hero?

[William I’s Reign, Year 13 — Sunny]

The Princess has been abducted by the Demon King.

The Hero has assembled the party once more. This time, he doesn’t need to beg; I am willing to go.

After all, the Princess said that I am her friend too.

The Grand Archmage had a habit of keeping a diary. Perhaps it was tied to his long, monotonous lifespan; fearing he might forget important memories, he always wrote down whatever he recalled.

Daniel Li and Yi Ming huddled over the desk, finally finishing the thick journal after considerable effort.

Yi Ming exhaled a long breath, rubbing her aching shoulders as she sat upright. “So the four of us and the Princess knew each other long before this expedition?”

Daniel Li was the Grand Archmage, the “author” of this very diary. Naturally romantic, he immersed himself in character exceptionally fast. Having finished reading the journal, he had completely slipped into the persona of the Grand Archmage, his handsome brow furrowed with melancholy.

“Yes.” He flipped back a few pages, his sorrow undiminished. “We knew each other for at least nine years, with very deep bonds.”

The moment Yi Ming saw that expression on his face, her guard shot up immediately. “You can’t let your feelings take over! Don’t let your emotions hijack you later and end up running over to the Princess’s side…”

Daniel Li shook his head, caught between laughter and tears. “I won’t lose myself that deeply in character.”

“…That remains to be seen,” Yi Ming muttered under her breath.

She remembered previous episodes where Daniel Li had suddenly defected midway purely out of character sympathy. Having worked with him before, she knew this guy was ridiculously sentimental.

Daniel Li promised, “I won’t. I’ve already agreed to our pact.”

This thick journal had been obtained after they jointly cracked the mechanism of a secret room. Yi Ming’s condition for helping was complete information sharing, an alliance, and absolutely no betrayal.

Daniel Li had agreed.

“Look here.” Yi Ming pointed at two words on the diary’s final page. “The Princess was abducted by the ‘Demon King.’ But this place is clearly the Dragon’s Castle. Could that be a typo?”

Daniel Li pondered for a moment, then shook his head.

“The production crew wouldn’t make such an amateur mistake. This only proves there’s more hidden beneath the surface.”

Yi Ming nodded. “Plus, the diary says the Hero and the Dragon became friends, which means the Dragon shouldn’t be a villain.”

Daniel Li asked suddenly, “Who is the Hero this episode? That person might be the key connecting all of us.”

Yi Ming thought about it.

“Yu Wen.”

Yu Wen walked into the banquet hall.

Inside the Hero’s journal lay a prompt from the production team: You are the center of the event.

Before showing it to Jian Heng, Yu Wen had torn that page out. Likewise, one of the hard covers was missing from the poetry book Jian Heng had handed over.

Neither of them would reveal core secrets easily.

Jian Heng’s poetry collection was chaotic and scattered. Aside from the final few pages, only two poems in the earlier sections contained actionable information:

O Hero!

Embarking on his journey;

Once more,

Once more,

Rescuing the Princess from fire and flood;

This youth who walks alongside the Dragon;

Remains pure of heart!

Once more?

Walking alongside the Dragon?

The fair Princess, coveted by the Dragon;

The mighty warrior, flattening every peril;

Who could have known,

Nine years hence,

The Demon King would descend;

Across the northern and southern realms, none could match its might!

The Hero’s party marches to war once more;

None returned,

None returned;

What was the champions’ end?

What was the champions’ destiny?

O blossoms dancing across the skies, heed my wish;

Bless them, that they may one day return in peace…

Yu Wen reached the banquet hall and surveyed his surroundings.

He had left the study precisely to examine the hall. “You are the center of the event”—interpreted on a macro level, it offered little actionable context. But interpreted on a spatial level, it might hint that his storyline could find clues right in the geographic center of the entire castle: the banquet hall.

It boasted classic medieval styling, its stained-glass windows covered by something opaque that blocked out all daylight. In the dim shadows, the painted portraits along the walls loomed as somber as statues, silently watching everything below.

He backed into the nook created by the staircase, constricting the open space around himself. Sure enough, seconds later, unable to scan him from afar, a ghost bird flapped its wings and fluttered directly into his space.

Each ghost bird was operated remotely by a crew member. So before striking, Yu Wen looked right into the bird’s ruby eyes and offered a polite apology: “Pardon me.”

He thrust his sword forward, magnetically snapping the bird right onto it.

The crew member: “?”

Everyone had their own assigned duties during filming, and word of Yu Wen’s exploit had not yet spread to every department. The staff member operating this ghost bird pulled off his headset, set down his controller, and stared blankly at his team lead.

“Team lead, he sucked me in… and he smeared ink all over my eyes…”

These high-tech brass birds were waterproofed, so moisture wouldn’t ruin them. However, their scanning apparatus was located right in the eyes. Searing ink across them drastically degraded scan sensitivity; with a thick coat of ink, the bird was effectively blind for the entire match.

The crew member sounded on the verge of tears as he explained.

Everyone only had one little yellow bird assigned to them… He hadn’t even had his fill of fun yet. Now he was stuck just sitting in front of the monitors watching everyone else… Wait a minute.

Does this mean he gets to clock out early?!!

On the other side of the set, the director sat before the monitor, rubbing his temples in exasperation.

The premiere of each season represented a fresh start. He was determined to hit the ground running and give viewers a jaw-dropping opening punch; this episode’s script was an absolute tearjerker, guaranteed to move the audience. So far, everything was advancing steadily according to plan…

Except for Yu Wen!

If this kid kept running wild like this, every single NPC on set was going to clock out early!

Crucially, the director could tell that for the sake of the broadcast’s entertainment value, Yu Wen was actually holding back—otherwise, he probably would have dismantled the device at the base of his scabbard for forensic analysis already.

Don’t think the director hadn’t noticed that kid slipping a screwdriver into his pocket earlier!

All in all, it could only be chalked up to some mystical metaphysical aura clinging to Yu Wen.

To rescue the game’s completion speed from an untimely demise, the director weighed his options grimly and made a painful call:

“Deploy the humanoid NPCs.” Pointing at Yu Wen on the screen, he ordered, “Target him specifically.”

With that expression on the director’s face, he might as well have shouted: Break out the heavy torture!

“Also, speed up the Bard’s plotline.”

Yu Wen expertly caught two more little yellow birds that flew into his face, smeared ink over their eyes, and released them back into the wild.

The layout of the banquet hall was simple. A long dining table occupied the center, flanked by burning candelabras, looking almost sparse at first glance. There was no chandelier overhead, only an encircling stained-glass relief.

Yu Wen’s gaze locked onto that colored glass carving.

It was a dragon.

Its body was coiled, wings folded tight, its features sculpted with exquisite lifelikeness. Even in slumber, it could not hide its savage, menacing aura; even from this distance, its heavy presence was palpable. It wasn’t hard to imagine how terrifying this beast would be once it woke.

Yet wrapped around its proudly arched horns was a dense, intricate garland of elegant protrusions.

It looked like a wreath, or perhaps some kind of crown.

In the dim candlelight, Yu Wen couldn’t see it clearly. He only felt it looked vaguely familiar.

A moment later, he abruptly looked down at the badge pinned to his chest.

Circling the edges of the badge was an identical pattern of protrusions.

Wisteria.

Signifying loyalty and friendship.

He raised his eyes once more, gazing into the dragon’s eyes through the dim gloom.

Crafted from colored glass, the dragon’s head was captured in vivid detail. Its eyes remained tightly shut. At a certain angle, the candlelight refracted across the glass, flashing a crystalline glint like a falling tear.

Though the dragon as a whole was carved to look ferocious and terrifying, its facial expression had received much finer, nuanced detailing. If one looked closely… an inexplicable sorrow radiated from its features.

Why had it coiled itself here?

To occupy the space?

Perhaps not.

Standing in silence, the youth playing the Hero quietly looked up at the dragon overhead. His gaze was composed and tranquil, tinged with a faint undercurrent of sorrowful compassion.

The dragon statue happened to extend its head in his direction. Though its eyes remained closed, it seemed as if they might open at any given second.

Old friends reuniting.

The camera in the corner silently committed this scene to tape.

Behind the screen, the director drew a sharp breath, thinking to himself that this episode’s viewership ratings were practically guaranteed.

Even if Yu Wen currently knew nothing and had merely looked up by pure chance, this single glance struck a chord of breathtaking destiny for his character’s storyline!

Metaphysics! This kid was pure metaphysics!

Director: “Good, good, having him is our greatest blessing…”

Instantly, he forgave all of Yu Wen’s exploit-abusing antics. Let the kid abuse bugs; let him abuse as many as he wants!

Turning to the production execution team, he instructed, “In that secret room later… pull back two NPCs. Don’t go scaring our Xiao Yu.”

Standing nearby, the assistant director stared at the monitor and piped up, “Old Yan, he didn’t head for the secret room in the hall.”

Director: “What? Did he fail to find it?”

“No… he didn’t even look for it,” the assistant director said hesitantly. “It looks like he found another lead and headed straight back to the study.”

Yu Wen pulled a book from the shelf, relying on memory to flip to the page he had briefly skimmed earlier.

Jian Heng’s poetry collection had revealed several vital pieces of information: first, he had heard the tale of the Hero’s party and knew that their ultimate fate was that ‘none returned’; second, the Hero had led his party on at least two separate campaigns.

The Hero’s party mentioned in the broadcast consisted of four individuals: the Hero, the Grand Archmage, the Dwarf, and the Elf.

Tucked away in the castle was also the abducted Princess.

Five people.

Yet there were six guests this episode. Who was the extra person?

Clearly it was Jian Heng—the wandering Bard who traveled the land singing ballads with a lute on his back.

He was the onlooker; he was the recorder.

More than that, he very likely existed in a completely different timeline from the others.

“Time stands still here,” the Hero’s journal had stated.

—Into this frozen expanse of time stepped a wandering bard, who was ultimately trapped here by the magic cast upon the castle.

That was the Bard’s storyline.

As things stood, the Hero’s journal explicitly stated that the Grand Archmage and the Elf had already died. Daniel Li and Yi Ming were playing those exact roles, which meant that among the roles assigned to the guests this episode, at least two were not the living, but wandering souls of the deceased.

Whether the others were alive or dead remained up in the air for now.

The Bard was the last to arrive at this castle; after all, his poetry book contained hearsay tales of the Hero.

Yu Wen flipped the pages swiftly. There was a historical chronicle on this bookshelf that he had skimmed earlier, but its contents only documented events up to the timeline mentioned in the broadcast: “the twelfth year of William I’s reign.” Having learned from Jian Heng that the Hero’s party had embarked on two separate campaigns, he immediately realized the chronicle would at least detail the events of their first expedition.

That would be the Hero’s party’s past.

Found it.

[William I’s Reign, Year 2]

October 13: The Hero’s party assembles.

[William I’s Reign, Year 3]

January 21: The Princess is successfully rescued; the Hero’s party returns.

January 22: The King bestows honors and knighthoods upon the Hero’s party.

May 14: The Dragon appears without warning.

May 15: The Hero proclaims the conquest of the Dragon, swearing an oath beneath the wisteria and engraving loyalty and friendship onto the Dragon’s horns.

…

[William I’s Reign, Year 12]

March 28: The Demon King emerges; the Princess disappears.

April 13: The Hero’s party marches to war once more.

September 11: None returned.

December 1: The Dragon guarding the royal palace vanishes.

The chronicle cut off right there.

Yu Wen closed the book and leaned against the fireplace, deep in thought. What was known so far was that the broadcast’s opening narration had deliberately obscured details; the directing team was trying to mislead them into believing the Hero’s party was a hastily formed group, when in fact they had known each other for at least nine years.

Furthermore, the broadcast claimed this place was the “Dragon’s Castle,” yet the chronicle recorded the menace as the Demon King. That certainly wasn’t an oversight. The shift in ownership of the castle… carried profound significance.

The most critical task right now was uncovering their ultimate fate—or rather, their cause of death, since every single one of them had written: [I cannot get out.]

What exactly was this magic blanketing the castle, as vast and unending as mountain ranges? What kind of spell had the power to trap the entire Hero’s party here?

Yu Wen slid the chronicle back into place as a sudden spark of inspiration flashed in his mind.

Freezing in place, a hesitant thought crossed his mind:

If all the people appearing here now were merely lingering remnants of the past…

What about the Dragon?

The Dragon guarding the royal palace had traveled to this distant forest, transforming into the stained-glass carving across the dome, watching over every inch of this place in eternal vigil…

Was it dead, or was it alive?