FLME Ch32: Battle Royale Recording

Putting the complicated deductions aside for the moment, Yu Wen checked the health gauge on the back of his hand. It was still fairly sufficient, easily enough to last ten or so hours.

It had been nearly an hour since they entered the castle.

It’s time to meet up with the others, Yu Wen thought.

Certain pieces of information could never be obtained through solo exploration, no matter how hard one tried; they had to be pieced together with teammates. The cast members were like a jigsaw puzzle severed into six fragments: put together, the full picture emerged. Yet no one knew whether a specific piece was so cracked and broken that it needed to hunt another puzzle piece to obtain the nourishment for repair. Cooperation and mutual benefit were ideal, but under the looming threat of survival, the slightest withholding of information could push another straight into the abyss.

Selfishness often seized the upper hand in just a single fleeting thought.

He picked up his sword, just about to leave, when a hand clamped down around his ankle.

…Yu Wen looked down.

A deathly pale hand had reached out from the fireplace, gripping his ankle in an iron clasp.

The health gauge on the back of his hand instantly shaved off a hefty chunk.

Yu Wen experimentally tried to budge his leg. Blue veins bulged across that pale hand, its muscles coiled tight, thoroughly unyielding.

What’s the play here, buddy?

A single grab is enough, why aren’t you letting go?

Yu Wen lowered his sword and crouched down, intending to reason with the person. Unexpectedly, the hand abruptly released its hold, only to snap upward and seize him by the shoulder, exerting tremendous force without warning to drag him straight into the fireplace.

“!”

Yu Wen’s hands shot out with lightning reflexes, grabbing firmly onto the outer mantle of the fireplace.

Good grief, you’re trying to drag me into an enclosed space and grind my health bar down to dust, aren’t you?

Think I’ll just let you have your way?!

Inside the fireplace lay a bed of wood ashes and several half-burnt logs. The solid wall featured an opening sealed instead with black elastic bands, which was precisely where the ghastly white hand had lunged from.

Yu Wen found purchase against the wall and planted his foot firmly against it.

In front of the monitors, the director watched Yu Wen get caught by the NPC and let out a long breath of relief. “Made it, made it in time! Good thing we prepared plenty of secret rooms. Feed him plenty of lore clues, and try to trap him for as long as possible so the other guests can catch up…”

The assistant director wasn’t quite as optimistic.

“…Why hasn’t he been dragged inside yet?”

Both directors craned their necks toward the monitors.

Inside the study, the pale hand stalemated with Yu Wen for several seconds. Giving up on his shoulder, it shifted down to undermine the foot planted against the wall.

Yu Wen poked his head out from the fireplace.

Earlier, with one foot being yanked inward and his hips suspended outside, he had practically been forced into a full split—no, an angle way past 180 degrees. Now that he could finally exert force, he wriggled outward using both hands and feet.

The raw power transmitting through his ankle was terrifying. Yu Wen couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy.

Because he was born premature, he had been somewhat frail as a child. People always craved what they lacked, which led him to make a childhood vow to grow up into a ripped, muscular hunk.

That dream had crashed and burned at the hands of a white-haired traditional Chinese medicine doctor. The old practitioner had put it this way: “Wellness requires moderation. Your qi and blood are severely deficient; you are unsuited for intense, strenuous exercise…”

The old physician added: Unless you fix your picky eating habits and build your qi and blood back up.

Yu Wen’s stance: I’m not a picky eater; the food just tastes awful.

Needless to say, his nutrients were never replenished, fitness training remained out of reach, and muscles were nonexistent.

However! He possessed extraordinary flexibility and unyielding, stubborn perseverance!

You might be strong.

But I didn’t earn my reputation for nothing!

With that thought, he executed a sharp, forceful roll, utilizing the momentum to successfully break free from the pale hand’s iron grip.

The director and assistant director: “…”

On screen, Yu Wen dusted off his cloak, stood up, proudly lifted his chin, retrieved his sword, and strode out the door with his head held high—just like a true champion returning victorious.

Two minutes later, Yu Wen was summoned back by the small broadcast speaker located in the study.

“…O Hero, O Hero, have you sensed the abnormalities within the castle? The Demon King’s lingering hatred refuses to disperse, watching from the dark shadows, deceiving naive travelers into becoming his blades… Perhaps attempting a dialogue with him will yield unexpected results.”

Yu Wen: “…”

If you’re a clue-bearing NPC, why did you have to rip off my health bar? Do I look that healthy to you?

He looked down at his hand—! He had less than a third left!

Yu Wen cradled his sword, pacing in front of the fireplace with a deep frown for three whole minutes.

He was weighing whether the clues held by the Demon King were worth taking the risk.

A moment later, he sighed softly, crouched down, and crawled inside.

The Demon King spoke:

“Mighty Hero, your perseverance moves me; your valor is sharper than any blade. I have perished, yet my soul has transformed into a curse of magic as vast and unending as mountain ranges, binding this place for eternity. Only by sacrificing the souls of your companions will there be a glimmer of hope for survival. Mighty Hero, how will you choose?”

Yu Wen stood quietly, not making a sound.

This was a dim secret room—or rather, more like a corridor. The entrance he had slipped through was already sealed, and the path ahead was a pitch-black abyss stretching as far as the eye could see.

Light-blocking glass panels lined both sides. The NPC playing the Demon King lurched around behind them, a flashlight held beneath his chin casting a deathly pale, ghastly light onto his face. A grotesque grin stretched all the way to his earlobes, dripping with bottomless malice.

Yu Wen thought to himself: Not bad, he isn’t grabbing me now that I’m inside.

If you’d told me earlier you wouldn’t grab me inside, wouldn’t I have crawled in ages ago?

He pondered for a moment, then attempted to “dialogue with the Demon King.”

“Your Grace, dear Demon King.” He spoke with utmost politeness. “May I inquire how you died?”

Demon King: “…Hero, you are exceedingly insolent.”

Yu Wen: “Oh, my bad then.”

Demon King: “…”

The two stared at each other through the glass pane. The Demon King’s eerie green pupils blazed with fury, yet his face retained that bizarre, twisted grin, brimming with a sort of malicious schadenfreude.

Yu Wen couldn’t help but admire the NPC’s dedication to acting.

“Even the Demon King has weaknesses. Everything under heaven has a weakness, and you all are no exception.”

Yu Wen: “‘You all’ refers to?”

“You, and your companions.”

Yu Wen: “What is our weakness?”

The Demon King lifted his chin, an air of haughty arrogance lacing his smile.

He looked down his nose at him. “Your weakness… is yourselves.”

Yu Wen remained silent.

Unsure whether Yu Wen had grasped the meaning, the NPC was just about to add a few lines when the Hero before him spoke thoughtfully: “The person who discovered your weakness and killed you—who was it?”

Demon King: “…”

He seemed to gnash his teeth for several seconds before squeezing out two words through the gaps: “The Princess.”

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

To be honest, I really don’t like keeping a diary. There are so many interesting things happening every day, how could I ever choose what to write down?

But the Grand Archmage loves writing diaries. Sometimes he even presses pretty flowers between the pages. I want to talk to him more, so starting today, the Princess is keeping a diary too!

This should be the right format, right?

Mm, I remember the Grand Archmage’s diary was written like this… Haha, I’ll secretly write it here: I actually peeked at the Grand Archmage’s diary before!

It was totally by accident! His notebook got blown onto the ground by the wind, and when I picked it up for him, he had written that I was very interesting!

O gods, thank you!

Actually, I like the Grand Archmage. Mm… I want him to know, but then I also don’t want him to know.

What a dilemma.

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

The Grand Archmage said… diaries shouldn’t be shared, nor should they be used as casual conversation topics…

Sigh, if only I were as old as the Grand Archmage. Then I could understand why he’s always gazing, pondering, and why he dislikes lively crowds.

Oh right! Although the Grand Archmage is old, he isn’t ugly at all! He’s a tall, handsome half-elf with pointed ears and snow-white hair. His hair can be braided into super long braids… so pretty!

Sigh… why does the Grand Archmage always praise me as a ‘cute little girl’?

Is it because I’m not pretty enough?

Or am I not brave enough?

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

O gods! I can hardly believe it, and you definitely won’t believe what the Hero did either…

He brought that wicked dragon back!

Ye gods! What on earth is he thinking?! That dragon is vicious and mean; after kidnapping me, it wouldn’t even feed me! The crimes it committed against me are unforgivable! There is no creature more abominable in this entire world! And the Hero! My best friend! How could he!

I am furious!

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

I haven’t spoken to the Hero for three whole days.

I can hold out.

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

I haven’t spoken to the Hero for seven whole days.

On the sixth day, he came asking to borrow my giant bath pool. When I asked what it was for, he actually said he wanted to bathe the dragon!

Is that normal?!

Why does he want to be friends with a dragon!

Being friends with the dragon means he doesn’t want to be friends with me!

I am never talking to him again!

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

The dragon was yelled at by the commoners on the streets today…

They threw vegetable leaves at it, and rotten eggs… That dragon was super fierce; it glared and scared everyone on the street away… But it was completely filthy…

Fine, even though it was never clean to begin with.

Seeing how pitiful it looked, I can let it use the giant bath pool.

Actually, the dragon isn’t as bad as everyone says…

It only starved me; it never did anything wicked. It never burned down farmers’ rice fields, and it never robbed merchants of their gems…

All right, I admit, if it’s willing to apologize for starving me, I might forgive it and begrudgingly become friends with it.

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

Dragon! Bad!

It broke my giant bath pool!

And it didn’t even apologize to me!

I hate it!

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

The Hero called the Dwarf over to help fix my bath pool.

The repaired bath pool is huge and sparkling clean; I love it.

The Grand Archmage and the Elf came too. I hadn’t seen them in so long; I missed them terribly.

Will everyone come over every time the bath pool breaks?

Hehehe, then I can give the dragon plenty more baths.

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

The Dwarf brought red wine. He is the most skilled craftsman in the kingdom; his hands are nimbler than the fastest weaving loom I’ve ever seen. He can always make anything.

They drank wine and chatted in the garden.

The Dwarf said he was going to forge an ultimate holy sword for the Hero.

The Hero said that would be amazing!

The Dwarf said that once forged, this sword would be capable of slicing clean through even the most powerful magic in the world.

The Grand Archmage smiled and said: ‘I shall enchant this sword with indestructible magic.’

The Hero cheered happily: ‘Once the sword is forged, we’ll journey across all realms! Destroying all evil.’

The Elf nodded with a gentle smile. She was always like this—shy, timid, rarely speaking.

The dragon sprawled nearby, lazily snorting puffs of air.

Hearing that, it raised its head, opened its eyes, and spoke in human tongue.

It said: ‘Embed the scale from the side of my neck into the scabbard. That way, you won’t need magic to summon me; as long as the scabbard tip points toward the sky, I will arrive as promised.’

The Hero laughed and reached out a hand to fist-bump its claw.

…

I didn’t really understand their words.

Because I don’t know magic, nor can I wield a sword.

I am merely a delicate princess.

That night, I buried my face under the blanket and cried secretly for a long time.

Why am I a princess? Why am I not a hero? An elf? Or a dwarf, or an archmage?

My friends are going to leave me behind.

I am so sad.

[William I’s Reign, Year 3 — Sunny]

I quietly asked the Grand Archmage: ‘How can you keep your friends from leaving?’

The Grand Archmage looked at me in surprise. Only after a long while did he say: ‘Why keep your friends from leaving? Why not go with them?’

Oh, right.

I could travel across the realms with them…

Could I?

[William I’s Reign, Year 4 — Sunny]

The Princess is reading books starting today! Reading lots and lots of books! Even though I’m a delicate princess, I will rely on my intellect to become a member of the Hero’s party!

Yay!

Read for twenty minutes today!

I’m so amazing!

Rewarding myself with thirty minutes of playtime!

…

[William I’s Reign, Year 8 — Sunny]

Father wants to choose a husband for me; the first one he picked was the Hero.

I refused.

Father asked me why. Aren’t you two on great terms? I was thoroughly baffled.

I said: ‘I can stay with the Hero until we’re eighty, brawl with him over buttered bread until we’re eighty, and get into fights with him until we’re eighty… but why do we have to get married? He doesn’t love me, and I don’t love him.’

The Hero was right beside me at the time, nodding along in complete agreement.

Father picked many other outstanding young men, but I liked none of them.

I already had someone I liked long ago.

…

[William I’s Reign, Year 13 — Sunny]

I was abducted again.

Ye gods, am I really that beautiful? Getting snatched every few years?

Alas, I am a delicate princess. I am powerless to resist.

On the journey here, I secretly left behind many markers. I trust that before long, my friends will come rescue me.

I am just as delicate as before.

Thankfully, I’ve read many books and become much smarter.

[William I’s Reign, Year 13 — Sunny]

The Demon King locked me in a basement. There are rats and cockroaches here, filthy and messy.

By chance, I overheard his demonic minions talking.

The minions said the Demon King has already discovered traces of the heroes, and plans to use this opportunity to spring a trap, wiping out this mighty Hero’s party in one fell swoop so that no one can stand in his way when he scourges the realms.

I am terrified.

What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?

I know deep down that this enemy is far stronger than any before.

The Demon King’s magic is as vast and unending as mountain ranges. He has countless minions, and demonic monsters lurk everywhere…

Perhaps I shouldn’t have left those markers…

No, I must warn them.

But how do I warn them?

I cannot get out.

What do I do…

[William I’s Reign, Year 13 — Sunny]

After thinking for a day and a night, I finally realized.

I just have to kill the Demon King.

I remember the Demon King’s weakness; I read about it in a book.

I have to kill him, I think.

“…Me???”

In the quiet gloom of the basement, Tong Li held her diary beneath the faint, dim glow of the “night pearl” above, reading through her entries.

Reaching the end, she pointed at herself in stunned disbelief. “I killed him?”

“Not necessarily.” Fan Xiangyang was caught between laughter and tears at her horrified expression. “It could be that you wanted to kill him, but failed. After all, this is only your diary.”

Tong Li breathed a slight sigh of relief. She had nearly been scared out of her wits by the entry. That was the Demon King; the entire castle was his handiwork. How could she possibly have the chops to slay him?

“We agreed to an alliance, and I’ve already shared my diary. Teacher Fan, you can’t betray me.” Relieved, she leaned against the wall to chat with Fan Xiangyang.

This was an underground cellar, and she hadn’t been able to find an exit until Fan Xiangyang stumbled in just now, bringing her a key from upstairs based on clues he followed.

Darn it, the key had actually been stashed upstairs.

If no one had come in, wouldn’t she have been trapped here for the entire episode?

Fan Xiangyang smiled helplessly, showing her the health gauge on the back of his hand—nearly half remained.

“Even if you were next in my hunting chain, with this much health, there’s no reason for me to hunt you. Besides, didn’t I share all the information I carried with you too?”

There were perks to being in the basement: there were no brass birds down here. Tong Li’s health had dropped the least among all cast members; by the time Fan Xiangyang entered, she had only lost a sliver of her outer bar.

After a brief exchange, the two immediately forged a consensus: form an alliance and pool their intel.

Their health levels were high; for the moment, there was no risk of betrayal.

Tong Li flipped through her diary, murmuring under her breath, “So is that Demon King dead or not…”

“She killed me,” the Demon King snarled.

As he uttered those words, his face twisted into an unsightly grimace of loathing, hatred, and regret, looking extraordinarily savage.

Yu Wen cradled his sword, leaning casually against the corridor wall.

He said, “Please, the stage is yours.”

Demon King: “…”

Yu Wen: “Pardon me. Please share your story.”

The Demon King glared daggers at him again. Yu Wen could barely hold back a grin at how utterly dedicated this staff member was.

“…She feigned submission and invited me to dine with her—yet in truth, she dripped her own blood into my wine.”

Yu Wen: “What does her blood do?”

The Demon King declared haughtily, “My only weakness is the blood of a pure soul.”

Yu Wen: “She is a pure soul?”

Demon King: “Before drinking her blood, I did not know. After drinking it, I knew beyond doubt that she is a pure soul rare in a century. Her soul and blood were the purest and sweetest I have ever tasted.”

…Good for you.

What do they call that? Feast well before dying, and you’ll be a happy ghost?

“She was the foolish-est princess I have ever laid eyes on!” the Demon King spat furiously. “She lacked even a shred of magic, so terribly delicate she couldn’t endure missing a single meal, weeping the night away when bitten by cellar rats… I thought her utterly harmless! Yet she dared—if she were not a pure soul…”

Yu Wen: “Yet she just so happened to be.”

Purity counters evil; such is universal truth.

The Demon King hissed, “Though my physical body perished, my soul endures! That foolish, delicate princess fell unconscious from the sheer concussive shock of magic dissipating from my dying flesh. My minions cast her into the cellar; I resolved to starve her to death to satisfy my spiteful delight…

“Yet at that very moment, the Hero’s party arrived.

“They actually sought to save her! To save this foolish princess?! I will not permit it; I will not accept it. Having lost my mortal vessel, someone must endure pain a thousand, ten thousand times worse than mine!

“And so, I cursed this place.

“I cursed this castle to become the world’s most inescapable cage, and my countless minions to become ghostly birds, feasting on their flesh and blood! I cursed time to freeze around them, sealing their wounds so they may never heal! O magic unending as mountain ranges! I command you to become the most wicked curse: a limit of seven days! If none among them is willing to sacrifice a companion’s soul to nourish the Demon King, then let them remain trapped here for all eternity!”

Sacrifice… a companion’s soul?

Yu Wen blinked slightly.

He suddenly seemed to understand… why every single person had written: [I cannot get out.]

In his dying moments, the mighty Demon King had unleashed a final, spiteful strike, trapping the entire Hero’s party.

“Your weakness… is yourselves.”

Indeed.

Their weakness was their companions.

“…Thank you for your tale.”

After a long pause, Yu Wen broke the silence. Straightening his posture, he offered an impeccable gentleman’s bow, bidding farewell to the Demon King: “It was a pleasure hearing of your misfortune. I must proceed to the next stage. May we never meet again, Your Grace.”

He stepped forward, unhurried, and made his way toward the far end of the corridor.