91: Chapter 90 The Carnival's End

Good heavens, it turned out that the 'improved version' Kaban mentioned was actually a hell-level gauntlet used by the Maya Pantheon to assess reserve Death Gods!

One Death was so shocked he nearly slid off his bone throne.

He was all too familiar with the value of that room. It offered the happiness one most desperately craved in their heart, a 'Tomb of Tenderness' harder to climb out of than a mountain of knives and a sea of fire.

For a mortal to enter, ninety-nine percent would drown in that beautiful dream.

Why did this Eastern little girl, who possessed no cultivation, succeed?

One Death was, after all, an old fox who had lived for tens of thousands of years. He keenly sensed that Pei Duo's aura had changed. If before entering she was like a warm yet fragile piece of jade, now she was a newly sharpened blade.

This absolutely couldn't be achieved by relying on cheats or life-saving artifacts. This was a pure crushing victory of willpower.

"It seems... this Eldest Princess is not just a mascot like we thought."

The assembled Death Gods exchanged glances, putting away their previous nonchalance. In its place was a genuine respect reserved for the strong.

Anyone who could tear apart an illusion with their bare hands and refuse comfort, regardless of whether they had that monstrous brother or not, deserved to be highly regarded.

In the center of the great hall.

Pei Fei's movement of gripping the dice paused slightly.

He didn't turn around, only staring at the hand of tiles before him that hadn't been completed yet. His originally lazy posture tensed up like a drawn bow for a split second. But in just one-thousandth of a second, he returned to his usual slovenly appearance.

"Oh, you're out?"

Pei Fei casually discarded a 'Nine Bamboos' tile, his tone as flat as if asking where she had been messing around. He didn't even turn his head: "Why not play a little longer? Was the service inside unsatisfactory? I'll have Kaban scrub the toilets later."

Xu Mo rolled his eyes behind him.

Keep pretending, just keep pretending. When he heard Kaban say just now that you cleaved the room with one sword, you certainly didn't look this composed.

Pei Duo stopped in her tracks.

She looked at the figure with his back to her.

In the past, this back had been a mountain to her, an umbrella shielding her from wind and rain. But now, she saw much more.

She saw the eternal burden pressed beneath the xuan qing daoist robe, saw the taut string he had to keep pulled tight to protect her.

Pei Duo didn't speak. She walked straight through the group of stunned Death Gods and stepped up behind Pei Fei.

"Brother."

She called out softly.

Pei Fei's fingers trembled. Just as he was about to turn around and spout some sharp words, a warm body pressed against him from behind.

Pei Duo opened her arms and forcefully, tightly wrapped them around him.

This was not an embrace seeking comfort, nor was it coquetry. Her arms squeezed very tightly, as if trying to transmit some kind of strength through his back to him.

The hall fell silent.

The lords who controlled life and death all kept their eyes focused forward, their noses on their hearts, even adjusting their breathing to silent mode, afraid to disturb this strange yet tender scene.

Pei Fei froze.

He felt the dampness on his back—not tears, but sweat.

Pei Duo wasn't crying.

"Brother, I won't hide anymore."

Pei Duo buried her face in his sweatshirt that smelled faintly of soap, her voice not loud, but every word ringing with a metallic texture.

"I don't want to be the Eldest Princess hidden behind you, nor do I want to live a life of stability where I can see the end at a glance."

She took a deep breath, released her hold, and walked around to stand in front of Pei Fei. She looked directly into his eyes, which were as deep as an abyss, her gaze unwavering in the slightest.

"I want to become strong."

"I want a day to come when, if those Western Gods try to move the Pei family, I won't have to wait for you to return; I can raise my blade and hack them back. I want to stand beside you, not behind you."

Pei Fei looked at her.

Looking at that familiar yet unfamiliar face.

The little girl in his memory who used to crawl into bed for fear of the dark and cry over failing exams had finally, completely grown up at this moment.

He recalled the rage he felt when he saw Pei Duo's 'corpse' in the illusion back then. At that time, all he thought was: As long as I am here, no one will touch a single hair on her head.

But now, he understood.

The best protection isn't locking an eagle in a golden cage, but accompanying it to brave the storm.

The pretense of nonchalance in Pei Fei's eyes finally faded bit by bit. In its place was a relief he had never felt before, and a trace of heartache hidden in the deepest part.

He slowly reached out his hand, just like when they were children, and vigorously ruffled Pei Duo's carefully managed hair.

"Good."

Pei Fei's voice was low and hoarse, yet carried an irrepressible hint of a smile.

"Brother promises you. This is the last time."

In the administrative hall, the nascent warmth hadn't had time to ferment before it was ruthlessly extinguished by a large hand.

Pei Fei's hand rested on Pei Duo's head for only two seconds before he pulled her head away dismissively, as if touching a hot potato.

That wasn't all. He casually rubbed his hand twice against the shoulder of Pei Duo's custom-made suit worth hundreds of thousands, wiping his palm clean of sweat.

"Alright, stop being so sentimental. You're going to rub snot onto my sweatshirt."

Pei Fei turned around. The laziness and helplessness he showed toward his sister instantly vanished, replaced by a suffocating indifference.

He strode back to the White Bone Throne and casually picked up the 'Nine Bamboos' tile left on the mahjong table, deftly spinning it between his fingers.

That was the hand of the Underworld Son of Heaven.

At this moment, that hand lightly slapped onto the table.

"Smack."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a heavy hammer smashing into the hearts of the twelve Death God lords watching from the sidelines.

The gods who had been marveling at the 'deep sibling affection' all shuddered violently from the sudden oppressive aura, nearly losing their divine forms.

The Lord of Plague, 'Seven Deaths,' was so frightened he almost dropped his eyeballs into his teacup, looking exactly like a primary school student caught by the head teacher.

Pei Fei didn't even lift his eyelids. His voice was languid, yet carried a heart-pounding carelessness: "Seen enough of the show? If you've seen enough, settle the accounts."

The air in the administrative hall instantly solidified; the temperature seemed to drop directly to absolute zero.

The withered old face of the Speaker, 'One Death,' was stiff as if coated in paste. He shakily stood up, and the Feathered Serpent Robe symbolizing the supreme authority of Xibalba couldn't offer him any sense of security now.

"We'll... we'll pay right away."

One Death dared not delay in the slightest.

Even though his heart was bleeding, even though this transaction was practically cutting the flesh off the Maya Pantheon, in front of that ruthless figure who could cleave an S-rank Mythical Item with one sword, negotiating the price? That meant he wanted a long life.

He tremblingly extended his hands, withered like chicken claws, and slowly reached beneath his divine throne.

Following a series of obscure and incomprehensible incantations, a crack split open beneath the divine throne, and a fist-sized crystal, entirely deep, profound blue in color, slowly floated up.

The moment this crystal appeared, the very rules of death within the entire hall trembled, as if it were the heart of this world.

S-rank Divine Object—[Yaxchilan's Imprint of Submission Law]