FLME Ch34: Battle Royale Recording

Having finished reading these little snippets, Yu Wen fell into a brief silence.

He had always lacked a complete understanding of the Hero’s character profile. The initial clues had focused mainly on plot events; only upon seeing these handwritten words did the Hero’s silhouette finally take full shape in his mind.

The Hero. A true hero.

Charging out to challenge an unending curse of magic even without a proper sword.

An indomitable spirit pressing forward, unstoppable even before endless mountain ranges.

…This was a character brimming with immense personal charisma.

Between the lines of these texts, overflowing with vibrant emotion, that carefree young man with childlike wonder smiled brightly.

Yu Wen thought to himself: he was beginning to fall in love with these simple words, with this fictional tale.

Among everyone around him, Chu Han was always the most devoted to acting. Yu Wen had once asked him: since it was just a job, why throw himself into it with the reckless passion of a moth darting into a flame?

Chu Han had answered:

“An actor is a job; acting is not. Experiencing what others experience, living what others live—it is a craft worthy of profound respect, and an utterly breathtaking journey.”

Yu Wen hadn’t understood back then.

Now, he understood a little.

Some characters truly possessed a soul.

“…Let’s go.” Once Jian Heng had finished reading nearly all the notes, Yu Wen stood up and pulled open the door handle. “I’m heading down to check out the main hall…”

He had a gut feeling that the final conclusion lay right in the banquet hall.

“Oh, oh. Sure…” Jian Heng quickly scanned the last few lines, deeply moved by the Hero’s personal charisma. At the same time, his guilt flared even stronger—he was about to strike down the Hero; he was truly a monster.

He desperately hoped the audience wouldn’t curse him out after watching. If they were going to scold someone, scold the Bard—it had nothing to do with him, Jian Heng!

He reverently placed the slips of paper and knickknacks back where they belonged. But when he turned his head around, the space before him was completely empty. Where was Yu Wen?

…Where did his whole, living Teacher Xiao Yu go?!

The cooked duck in his grasp had sprouted wings and flown away?!

One wall away inside a hidden room, Teacher Xiao Yu stood staring speechlessly at the partition.

Just moments ago, right as he reached out to open the door, two wall panels had shot out from his left and directly in front of him, sealing him snugly within. Immediately after, the floor beneath his feet slid silently, separating him from Jian Heng in the blink of an eye and transporting him to an entirely different chamber.

He knew the production team’s hardcore lore dumps were at it again.

This time, he remained completely calm and offered no resistance. Once the footing beneath him steadied, he gingerly took two steps forward to confirm it was safe before feeling his way through the dark.

Pitch black.

It seemed to be another secret passage.

At the far end stood a narrow door. Feeling along the wall, Yu Wen’s fingers brushed against a small indentation.

Huh?

He thought hesitantly… This feels like the shape of the Holy Cross Sword…

In the dark, he pressed the Holy Cross Sword into the groove.

The narrow door slid aside before his eyes, swinging wide open.

Yu Wen looked at what lay before him and froze.

“Right now, the piece with the most information is the Elf’s confession letter.”

Yi Ming took the initiative to lay her letter out on the cold, low table in the basement. “According to my confession, during a moment of crisis, the Grand Archmage stepped in to shield me from an attack by the ghost birds. He believed that holding rare healing magic made me everyone’s hope for survival. Afterward, having exhausted his magical reserves, he couldn’t hold his wounds together and died. In other words, the indirect cause of his death was me, so I should be able to hunt the Grand Archmage.”

Daniel Lee instantly backed a meter away, looking astonished. “Why didn’t you mention this when we formed our alliance?”

Yi Ming: “I didn’t know back then!”

Fan Xiangyang was amused by their antics, stepping in to smooth things over: “All right, all right, knowing now isn’t too late either.”

Tong Li sat fretting over a small brass box in front of her.

“‘The reason the wandering souls linger’… What does that mean?”

They had just snatched this small box from a room undergoing a concentrated assault by ghost birds. There hadn’t been any guests inside, yet the ghost birds had attacked the space with intense vigor, as though facing a mortal enemy. The group had figured out a way to lure the flock away, sneaked in to take a look, and fished this little box out.

“Wandering souls lingering… Earlier, Xiao Jian mentioned there were souls of the dead among us too. Could ‘wandering souls’ refer to us?” Yi Ming wondered.

“Is it asking why we refuse to rest in peace?” Fan Xiangyang joked.

“The reason the wandering souls linger…” Tong Li pondered. “If all of us are lingering souls, could it be asking: why did we gather here?”

Yi Ming: “Could be!”

Daniel Lee: “The lock takes letters. Could it be our names?”

Tong Li straightened the box, agreeing: “Possible. Let’s try them one by one.”

First attempt: the one with the fewest letters, Dwarf.

Incorrect.

Yi Ming: “Could it not be pinyin?”

Fan Xiangyang: “English? Who’s good at English? How do you say Elf? How do you say Hero?”

Second attempt: Elf, in English.

Incorrect.

…

Fifth attempt: Hero.

Correct.

Tong Li breathed a sigh of relief. Daniel Lee asked in confusion, “The Hero? The Hero is the reason the wandering souls linger? Meaning, we’ve stayed here all this time because of him?”

“Not sure, let’s look first,” Yi Ming said.

Inside the box lay items titled Whispers of the Wandering Souls.

Whispers of the Wandering Souls (I):

Who am I… I can’t quite remember…

Why did I stay here… I don’t know…

This is a magnificent castle, radiating a stench I loathe.

I do not understand why I linger here.

Whenever I wish to leave, a voice echoes in my mind: ‘Wait, wait a little longer, wait for him to walk out from the mountains.’

Who is he?

And what are the mountains?

This castle is the world’s most inescapable cage…

Yet it does not imprison wandering souls.

Then why am I trapped here?

Who was I?

It seems someone once called me… the greatest archmage in human history…

I can’t remember clearly.

Whispers of the Wandering Souls (II):

I saved my companion with healing magic—this is the single proudest achievement of my cowardly life.

I used to hide behind them, but this time, I stepped forward.

Mm… yet I can’t remember who that companion was, nor why I had to save him.

I am a wandering soul.

I should leave this place, journey to the Netherworld, and attain eternal life among the sun-drenched reed fields.

Yet I linger here. Why?

Ah… I remember now. I still have a companion; he seems to be alive.

He is lost within the mountains.

I want to wait for him to wake up.

Whispers of the Wandering Souls (III):

The Dragon? The Dragon? Why is there a dragon here? Detestable!

I can’t put it into words, but I hate it so much. The moment I see it, I feel as though I’m starving, locked away in some dark, wretched pit!

Yet the moment I see it! I still want to give it a bath!

How could that be? I am a princess!

Huh… am I a princess?

Am I that noble?!

Hahahaha, yay!

Why does a noble princess linger here…?

Why not return to the royal palace, or turn into a little bird with wings?

I seem to have a friend…

He went to face an overwhelmingly powerful magic…

I don’t know if he is alive or dead.

Yet with the Dragon coiled here, he must still be alive.

A dragon’s sense of smell is sharper than all of ours.

Then I want to wait for him to wake up too…

Whispers of the Wandering Souls (IV):

The Dragon came, the Dragon came…

It finally arrived.

Bearing the Holy Sword in its jaws, the vile Bard fell beneath the blade.

It claimed the castle; the Demon King’s curse unravels…

Yet it did not leave…

Why? Who is it waiting for?

…Who am I?

Together with it, I watch over this place in eternal vigil.

Waiting for a certain person to return…

“‘Claimed the castle?!'” Yi Ming instantly seized upon the crux, pointing at the line reading It claimed the castle; the Demon King’s curse unravels. “In other words, all the opening lore dumps the crew fed us were smoke screens! This really was the Demon King’s castle, the one who abducted the Princess was also the Demon King, and the Dragon claimed the castle, neutralizing the curse… What was the curse?”

Tong Li counted them up. “Four wandering souls—that matches the four of us perfectly.”

“The first is the Grand Archmage, the second is the Elf, the third is the Princess, and the fourth…” Fan Xiangyang deduced from the clues in the whispers, hesitating at the last one: “…is it the Dwarf or the Hero…?”

“The Dwarf,” Tong Li said with certainty. “Don’t forget the password on the box: the reason the wandering souls linger is the Hero. If any of us is still alive, it has to be the Hero.”

The group sorted through their respective plotlines. Ten minutes later, using their arrival at the castle as the dividing line, Tong Li sketched out two distinct timelines: the ‘Past’ and ‘Present.’

Unfolding the ‘Present’ timeline before the group, she pointed to a gap in the middle. “Right now, the only missing pieces are the Demon King’s role, the Demon King’s curse, and the reason behind the Demon King’s death… Once we fill in the Demon King’s part, the entire sequence of events will be complete.”

Yu Wen stared at the colossal dragon before him, its frame gleaming with an icy metallic sheen… and stood frozen.

It was a dragon—identical to the one carved across the dome in the main hall. If the dome’s stained glass represented a soul sealed at the heart of the castle, then this was the Dragon’s physical vessel. At a rough estimate, it was six to seven times the volume of the stained glass overhead, exuding a silent, suffocating presence.

The production team had truly spared no expense.

Yu Wen stepped forward. The dragon’s body looked cast from cold iron, reflecting an icy glint beneath the fluorescent lights. Every individual scale was rendered in vivid detail; even its whiskers appeared completely lifelike. Had its eyes not been shut tight, it would have been nearly indistinguishable from a living beast.

The coiled body measured at least two meters tall. Standing close, Yu Wen had to crane his neck and look up.

The dragon’s head hung low; the colossal beast slept in absolute stillness.

Floating around the giant dragon were various tiny motes of light. Looking closely, those specks appeared to be palm-sized holographic projections, freezing countless flickering scenes in place.

The speaker crackled to life at that moment:

“The Hero’s storage room… has been declared forbidden ground by the castle’s master. Reckless intruder, you should not be here… Lay down that Holy Sword that does not belong to you, and the Dragon may yet forgive your insolence.”

Yu Wen gazed at the sleeping, icy titan. As if guided by a phantom pull, he reached out his hand and touched the scales along the side of the dragon’s neck.

He remembered the Dwarf’s notes mentioning that the Dragon had once plucked a soft scale from its neck, entrusting it to the Dwarf to be set into the scabbard once the blade was complete…

Beep, beep, beep—

His health bar suddenly flashed a critical warning. From that single touch, his already depleted health worsened, teetering right on the brink of the safety threshold at a mere twenty-one percent.

Yet the very next second, he noticed the surrounding holographic projections began to swirl. Like a video unpausing, the scenes began to flow…

He heard the agonizing wail of the Dragon, watching it circle high above the castle, its silhouette blending with the rainy night like a heartbreaking cry of grief.

The motion was fleeting; as soon as he pulled his hand away, the projections froze once more.

Yu Wen stared at his precarious health bar in silence.

I have to touch it to see the Dragon’s memories—he realized this clearly.

Yet the moment he touched it again, his health bar would plunge below the safe limit, extinguishing all hope of escape.

The production team was truly ruthless with their dilemmas.

Yu Wen exhaled a long breath.

Rationally, he knew he should abandon this lead right now and cooperate with other cast members with higher health bars; that would minimize losses and maximize gains. Emotionally, however, he felt… the one who ought to unlock the Dragon’s memories was the Hero.

Not Yu Wen, but the Hero.

The Hero would reach out to his old friend without a second thought, regardless of health bars, regardless of gains or losses.

“This sword is mine.”

Facing the speaker that projected the voice, he stated calmly.

“Please tell me what happened to you; please tell me why you coiled yourself here…” Yu Wen reached forward, intending to stroke the giant dragon’s tightly shut eyes. Hesitating for a fraction of a second, he suddenly took another step forward, pressing his forehead gently against the dragon’s bowed brow.

Forehead pressed against cold iron, icy to the touch.

“My friend,” he whispered softly. His voice trailed off, ethereal as a sigh.

On the monitor, the young man rested his forehead against the dragon’s, the stark white light cascading over them to carve out a striking contrast of shadow and light.

Yu Wen’s eyes were half-closed, the corners of his lips curved in a faint upward arch—it was impossible to tell whether his expression held serenity or quiet melancholy. Yet as the camera zoomed in tight on the outer corner of his eye, the distinct beauty mark stood out, accompanied by the gentle shadow cast by his lashes, as though he were quietly weeping.

Who was it that traversed ten thousand leagues, hastening toward a reunion destined to bear no fruit?

When old friends met, was it joy, or was it sorrow?

Both the director and assistant director fell dead silent. After a long pause, the latter exhaled two words laden with raw emotion:

“Holy shit.”

Most of the Dragon’s memories featured only itself. Naturally, the dragon had been crafted using the crew’s high-tech synthesis; back when character cards were still unassigned, they couldn’t foresee the future and synthesize a Hero bearing Yu Wen’s face ahead of time.

However, these scenes featured a large amount of voiceover from the Hero, likely voiced by a voice actor hired by the crew.

[“My friend, the citizens of your royal capital are not very welcoming,” the Dragon stated calmly, arriving before the Hero with rotten vegetable leaves stuck to its head, its entire body covered in dirt.

The Hero stared at it, silent for three seconds.

Dragon: “My friend, are you laughing?”

Hero: “Pfft… hahahahahaha…”

On the seventh day after arriving at the royal capital, the Dragon had received an enthusiastic “welcome” from the entire city. The Hero picked off every stray vegetable leaf from its head, asserting: “It must be because you’re too scruffy. The citizens of our capital love cleanliness.”

The Hero borrowed a colossal bath pool from his good friend, the Princess, big enough to fit the Dragon.

Soaking in the warm water, the Dragon let out contented grunts, slapping its tail against the surface and sending countless splashes into the air.

The Hero scrubbed its scales with a massive brush.

“My friend, I do not like the capital.”

The Dragon said flatly: “The scenery here is terrible; it is nowhere near as beautiful as my dwelling.”

In truth, it had been thoroughly disheartened by the capital’s citizens, but it would never admit that; a proud dragon would never utter such words.

The Hero scrubbed the scales with all his might, sweating profusely because the Dragon was far too dirty.

“Then I’ll let the Grand Archmage and the others know,” the Hero panted, laughing brightly. “Let’s travel across the realms together!”

Travel across the realms, together.

A wonderful thought.

Dragon: “Very well. I will endure it a little longer.”

In its overwhelming excitement, a stray sweep of its tail cracked the bath pool, earning it a furious earful from the Princess afterward.

She has such an awful temper, the Dragon thought lazily.]

[“The Holy Sword… the Holy Sword hasn’t been successfully forged yet,” the Dragon muttered to itself, basking in the sun sprawled on the grass. “Together, we’ll travel…”

It had made a promise with the Hero: together, they would travel.]

[The Demon King abducted the Princess; the Hero’s party assembled once more, setting off on their campaign.

The citizens lined the streets to see them off.

The Hero stroked the Dragon’s forehead, saying softly: “Hey, my friend, please protect the capital for us.”

The Dragon nodded listlessly.

A dragon circling high above the royal palace in daily vigil—ha, what a wondrous sight that was.

The Dragon honored its promise, guarding the capital it had once disliked.

The language of the wisteria flower was loyalty and friendship.

It held that close to its heart at every moment.

It was only holding out for that other promise—perhaps once the Hero returned from this expedition, it would finally come true.

Together, traveling…]

Most of the Dragon’s memories revolved around the Hero, painted in bright, joyful hues. Yet considering their final fate, this joy twisted into a somber, grey tragedy.

Among the Demon King’s curses was the line: “The Demon King’s castle shall become the world’s most inescapable cage.” Because the Dragon had ultimately claimed the fortress, the “Demon King’s Castle” no longer existed, rendering that specific part of the curse null and void.

However, the curse itself endured.

The Hero remained lost within the curse, unknown whether he was alive or dead.

And the fallen companions had transformed into wandering souls, drifting through the castle, waiting for a certain someone to awaken.

Up to this point, the complete storyline had come together.

Yet what moved Yu Wen most was one final scene:

[Loyalty. Friendship.

“My friend, the wisteria is engraved upon my soul; I hold our promise close to heart. When you return, we shall travel the realms together.

“I know not if you are still among the living. If you perish, I must stand vigil here for all eternity, and so I have severed my body and soul in two; if you are dead, my soul shall accompany yours, journeying onward to the peaceful reed fields.

“Whether you live or die, we can still travel together.

“Even if only in the form of souls.”]