I'm in Mota, and they all want me to confess my feelings!

"The future of Laguna should be written by humanity itself."

The young man looked up blankly, his face still wet with tears, filled with bewilderment.

All eyes on deck were focused on the figure that suddenly appeared at the bow of the ship—he seemed to appear out of thin air as if piercing through the sea fog of twilight.

"You... are you?"

The young man who was weeping looked up at the other person.

“Just a wandering knight passing by, no need to remember him.” Duanmu Yan bent down to pick up the rope ladder piled on the deck and tossed it neatly below the ship’s side. “Xia Kong, you can come up now.”

Before he finished speaking, his gaze suddenly fixed on the distant horizon.

Several large ships flying familiar flags were cutting through the waves, their sails adorned with patterns that stood out prominently in the setting sun—the ships of the Fools' Troupe.

Volume 1: Chapter 162 A Manifestation Before the People

On the deck of the pilgrimage ship, a man dressed as a captain gracefully leaped down the mooring rope and landed lightly in front of Duanmu Yan.

"It's been a long time, Your Excellency Duanmu."

The visitor was none other than Brandt.

Even after a long time apart, Brandt's personality remained unchanged, his smile still carrying a carefree and cynical air.

“It has indeed been a long time, Brandt.” Duanmu Yan smiled sincerely.

Suddenly, a delicate suitcase fell from above, landing with a "thud" on the wooden deck.

The lid of the box popped open, and a little girl with pigtails jumped out.

She rushed to Duanmu Yan, gently tugged at his sleeve and shook it, saying in a very soft and gentle voice, "Brother Duanmu, it's been a long time."

"Is Rococo here too?"

“Of course.” Brant chuckled, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. “As the first mate of the Fools’ Troupe, how could I possibly leave a rescue operation of this scale without our reliable little helpers?”

Duanmu Yan bent down and gently ruffled the little girl's hair: "You're really amazing."

Rococo, however, slightly turned her head and subtly took half a step back.

"Don't touch my head," she said softly, as if telling a secret, "it will stunt my growth."

Duanmu Yan's hand froze in mid-air as he suddenly remembered what the child had once earnestly said—she said she wanted to become an elegant and tall older sister like Miss Koletta.

even though……

This goal is set a bit too low.

Moreover, while the second young lady is elegant, she's not exactly tall...

Hmm, it needs to be lengthened—no, it needs to be strengthened.

"Sister Xia Kong?"

Rococo's gaze swept past Duanmu Yan's side, then suddenly stopped on the antlered girl, and she softly called out her name.

Duanmu Yan looked at Xia Kong with slight surprise: "You two know each other?"

"Hmm." Rococo nodded gently, her hair fluttering in the sea breeze. "I've seen you a few times during the tour before."

The antler-wearing girl smiled shyly, her fingertips lightly caressing the strings of the zither in her arms.

"is it?"

Duanmu Yan nodded thoughtfully, then turned to face the anxious people on the deck. Their eyes darted between hope and fear, like those of frightened birds.

“We can catch up later,” he said, his voice as steady as a rock. “The most important thing now is to get everyone safely evacuated.”

Brant's smile faded, and he said seriously, "Indeed. After receiving Miss Koletta's message, we immediately set sail. It was just a matter of finding a ship on this vast ocean... Fortunately, we made it in time."

At this moment, the crew of the Fools' Troupe began to throw ropes into the pilgrimage ship, preparing to set up the connecting gangways.

"Who...who are you? Pirates? Listen, there's nothing of value on this ship! And...this is a pilgrimage ship belonging to a religious order!"

A middle-aged man stood up tremblingly, looking at these people of unknown origin.

Duanmu Yan's gaze passed over his trembling shoulders and landed on the faces filled with fear on the deck of the temple.

“A pilgrimage ship?” He chuckled, as if mocking, “This is nothing more than the order paving the way to hell for you.”

"Gentlemen, we are not pirates, and we have no designs on you. On the contrary—" He paused deliberately, letting each word sink into his heart, "we are here to take you away from this graveyard."

"leave?"

The word caused a stir among the crowd.

A glimmer of hope ignited in some people's eyes, while many others lowered their heads in disbelief.

A voice came from the corner: "We are atoning...we don't need salvation."

"Yes, we are completing our own redemption."

Of course, there were also dissenting voices.

"Redemption?! What kind of redemption? The order has abandoned us on this ship, giving us neither food nor water, leaving us to drift with the wind and waves, without even knowing where we're headed? How am I supposed to atone? How am I supposed to atone? Most importantly—what sins have we committed?!"

"Fuck your religious order!" another young man kicked the mooring post hard.

"I'll go with you!" More and more people stood behind Duanmu Yan.

After some debate, although most people were willing to leave with the Fools' Troupe, a small number of people with devout faith stubbornly insisted on staying on the ship to complete their own salvation.

Two sisters held each other's hands tightly, but disagreed on whether to stay or leave.

“I have to stay…” the younger sister said, her voice trembling. “If I leave the pilgrimage ship, I will never be able to go back to Laguna again.”

Her sister grabbed her shoulders tightly: "Wake up! In all these years, who has seen the pilgrims return? They're already at sea..."

"But Father is still waiting for us!" the younger sister cried, tears streaming down her face. "If we all leave, who will take care of him?"

“Big brother will take good care of Father.” Her sister hugged her tightly, her voice suddenly becoming soft yet firm. “But we have to live, only by living can we see them again.”

After much patient persuasion, the younger sister finally nodded, choking back tears, and rested her forehead on her older sister's shoulder, agreeing to leave with her.

Of course, not all persuasion will be met with understanding.

Several figures remained stubbornly huddled along the ship's side, refusing to leave.

“Please listen to what I have to say,” Xia Kong said anxiously as he strode up to them, “This ship has been planted with bombs by the Regiment and will explode soon. Staying behind means certain death!”

An elderly man with white hair raised his head, his cloudy eyes revealing an eerie calm: "Child, if this is the will of the gods..."

"This is not the will of the gods! If the Lord of the Year were truly as merciful as the legends say, why would he send you to your deaths?"

But the believers simply shook their heads slowly and continued their prayers.

The advice of strangers can never overcome the faith rooted in their hearts—even if that faith is pushing them toward the abyss.

Duanmu Yan gently pressed Xia Kong's shoulder and shook his head at her.

Some obsessions are harder to shake than explosives.

"Brandt, how's the bomb situation?"

Brandt said, "I sent down a few people who know a lot about bombs, and if nothing unexpected happens—"

Before he could finish speaking, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from below the cabin.

Several crew members who were sent to deal with the bomb scrambled onto the deck, their faces ashen and their lips trembling.

"Something's probably going to go wrong." Brandt's lips twitched slightly as he looked at their distraught expressions. "What happened? Can't the bomb be defused?"

One of them nodded frantically, his mouth agape but unable to utter a complete syllable, only managing to squeeze out broken words through his teeth.

"There are still ten—"

“Ten what?” Brandt frowned.

"Nine."

This number is like an icicle piercing everyone's heart.

The deck fell into a deathly silence—this wasn't a situation report, it was a countdown!

"Everyone evacuate immediately!" Brandt's roar tore through the heavy air.

Duanmu Yan had no time to explain. With a swift and precise strike, he knocked out the stubborn believers and then tossed them toward the nearby theater troupe's boat.

Just as the last person let go—

boom!

The entire pilgrimage ship trembled violently, and a tearing sound that made your teeth ache came from below the deck.

Amidst the flying sawdust, everyone watched in horror as an invisible force lifted the cabin high into the air, but the anticipated devastating explosion did not occur.

The terrifying shockwave hovered in mid-air like solidified amber, surging in golden light.

The sound waves unfolded slowly like solid silk, each ripple clearly visible.

Duanmu Yan stood before the crowd, his pupils gleaming with a golden light.

"Go, leave this to me."

Volume 1: Chapter 163 Luckily, I'm a sports student

The power of time.

This is Duanmu Yan's ability to resonate.

Although the passage of time can only be temporarily confined to a limited scope, for this moment, this brief stillness is enough to reverse life and death.

"Hurry up, leave this place to me for now."

Duanmu Yan's voice was incredibly calm, only the golden light flowing in his eyes and the rapid, flickering marks on the back of his hands revealed the heavy burden he was bearing.

Xia Kong gently pressed his hand to his chest, staring incredulously at the figure who was fighting against the explosion with a mortal body.

A thousand words stuck in my throat, but in the end, they all boiled down to one sentence: "You must be careful!"

She turned around and helped the last few stranded people evacuate.

Those believers who had stubbornly sought death, after witnessing this miracle that defied common sense, finally wavered in their deep-rooted convictions and staggered toward the gangway to safety.

Duanmu Yan stood alone in the flowing light, golden ripples spreading out from him, silently wrestling with the destructive power that was about to devour the entire ship.

Brant had retreated to the Fools' Theatre's deck. Gripping the mooring ropes, he shouted at the figure standing in the golden light, "Lord Duanmu! What do you intend to do? I mean, what kind of support do you need?"

"No need to help me." Duanmu Yan's voice cut through the stagnant sea breeze. "Just remember to pull me out of the sea later!"

"Fire them up?!" Brandt nearly choked on his breath. "What kind of plan is this?!"

"We'll talk about this later. Retreat immediately! Unless you want to be blown to pieces!"

Although Brandt didn't know what Duanmu Yan was going to do, he figured that since Duanmu Yan had managed to delay the explosion, surviving it shouldn't be a problem.

perhaps?

The fleet slowly retreated to safe waters, and everyone held their breath, staring at the ship enveloped in golden light and the young man in black standing alone in the center of the disaster.

As Duanmu Yan watched the ships gradually disappear into the distance, his tense heart relaxed a little—of course, not completely.

After all, he was still in the midst of the explosion.

Now, it's time to think about what to do.

Duanmu Yan controlled the flow of time in this area, not daring to slack off in the slightest.

Although the exact power of the bomb is still unclear, judging from the energy that continues to expand in the stagnant spacetime, even a physical education student would be torn to pieces if he were to take the blast head-on.

He moved his feet carefully, slowly making his way towards the side of the ship.

Every soft squeak of the soles of the shoes brushing against the deck was stretched infinitely by this slowed-down time.

The life-saving ocean was just a dozen steps away, but now it seemed incredibly far away.

Duanmu Yan finally retreated to the edge of the ship's gunwale. He glanced back at the unfathomable dark blue sea below, then turned to the scene of the explosion frozen in time before him—the surging flames and shockwaves, like monsters sealed in amber, remained in a menacing posture.

He clearly sensed that the range of his resonance ability was shrinking. The waves that had started at the edge of the previously stagnant explosion were breaking free of their restraints at a visible speed.

There was no room for hesitation.

Duanmu Yan took a deep breath, turned around, and leaped into the sea.

The instant he detached from the ship, the imprisoned spacetime collapsed with a deafening roar—