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

These six short words are imbued with the blood, tears, and farewells of countless generations.

"In other words, you will also—"

Duanmu Yan's voice came to an abrupt end there.

“This is the destiny of Fesare.” Cantrell’s voice was as soft as a sigh.

Duanmu Yan fell silent once again.

Although we don't know what kind of story Cantrella's past holds, that note alone is enough to reveal that this seemingly cold and ruthless head of the family is not as simple as she appears.

What she carries on her shoulders is an eternal nightmare that ordinary people cannot imagine.

Death? Poison?

For her, it was just an ordinary daily routine.

Duanmu Yan asked her, "Aren't you scared?"

“Afraid? How could I not be afraid?” Cantrela chuckled, her voice as soft as a feather brushing the surface of water. “No one in this world is unafraid of death.”

“It’s just that everyone’s fears are different—some people genuinely cherish life itself, while others are afraid of losing those unique bonds.” Her gaze deepened. “These emotions and connections are precisely the most brilliant light and the most precious treasure in the short life of humankind.”

"But death will completely separate you from all of this."

"This is precisely what makes death so terrifying, and it is also humanity's greatest weakness."

Cantrellella's voice faded into the distance as she walked deeper into the mansion.

"Then why do you want to participate in the trial?"

"For tomorrow."

They continued deeper into the mansion, but the atmosphere around them grew increasingly eerie.

An invisible pressure permeated the air, as if even the light was being distorted by some force.

The remaining images born from the pollution of the Ming-style became even more violent, roaring as they pounced.

From these fragments of distorted frequencies, Duanmu Yan gradually pieced together the complete picture of the Saintess Trial—

This is an unsolvable cycle.

Unless Leviathan is completely annihilated, this brutal legacy will continue indefinitely.

Fesari holds the truth of the past, and they must protect that truth.

Otherwise, reality will be completely overwritten in the whispers of Leviathan.

"Your sword has a rather peculiar design." After the battle, Cantrela curiously observed the sword in his hand. "It seems to be created by resonance."

Duanmu Yan lowered his head, looked at the sword in his hand, and nodded: "Yes, this is a gift from the Second Miss."

"A gift?" Cantrera frowned in confusion, but quickly smiled faintly. "So, you're missing a real weapon? Perhaps, after this is over, I can give you one—a real weapon. Consider it a gift from me."

"In that case, I thank you in advance, Master of the Clan."

"You should still call me Cantrella."

"Miss Cantrella, regarding the Saintess Trial... were you the only one who survived before?" Duanmu Yan gazed into the deep corridor, the names he had glimpsed from the afterimages flashing through his mind.

Upon hearing this question, Cantrela did not answer directly, but instead said softly in a vague tone, "Hmm... why don't you guess? After being tempered by hundreds of poisons, how many people can ultimately survive?"

Just as Duanmu Yan was about to speak, he suddenly caught a strange sound seeping into the cracks of his consciousness.

That was no ordinary sound; it was more like the breath of some ancient being, slowly eroding the boundaries of reality.

It spreads quietly, like ink dripping into clear water, giving all the surrounding sounds an indescribable texture.

The sounds that were once clear began to distort and deform, as if countless slippery tentacles were probing into the depths of hearing, recombining all frequencies into a frenzied rhythm.

In this suffocating wave of whispers, even time itself begins to feel thick and strange.

Just as consciousness was about to sink, a delicate fragrance pierced through the chaos like a sharp blade.

Duanmu Yan pressed his throbbing temples and opened his eyes, seeing Cantrella pouring violet potion into the air, the shimmering mist droplets forming an invisible barrier.

"Are you alright?" She rarely put away her usual languor, her brows furrowed with seriousness. "It seems that even someone as special as you cannot escape His gaze once you touch upon the truth."

She twirled her fingertips, letting the last few drops of the secret medicine dissolve into the air: "This is a secret medicine developed by generations of Fesalie, which can temporarily isolate those... whispers that should not exist in this world."

"I'm fine. Anyway, this isn't the first time I've felt this way." Duanmu Yan shook his head gently, trying to cheer himself up.

“Is that so? That’s good.” Cantrell’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly. “But if you still feel unwell, you can come to me anytime. I will personally prepare a calming medicine for you… to help you temporarily escape all this pain.”

Duanmu Yan took a deep breath, the faint scent of the medicine still lingering in the air: "By the way, Miss Cantrella, you still haven't told me what you want me to do next."

She paused for a moment, then turned her gaze to the end of the corridor—where stood a massive, dust-covered door. Even from several feet away, she could feel the biting chill seeping from the cracks in the door; it was a tangible resentment that froze the surrounding air into ice.

"It's just ahead."

Duanmu Yan followed her gaze and asked, "What exactly is in there?"

“It is the resentment of the previous patriarch… or rather, the aggregate of the grudges of all the previous patriarchs of the Fesalie family after being corrupted by the Ming Shi.” Her voice was so soft as if she was afraid of waking something. “Hundreds of years of cruel trials have left the entire family living in eternal fear. And the being behind the door… is the embodiment of this long despair.”

“This Sonora world should have been a cage to imprison them. But the previous patriarch…” Cantrera placed her hand lightly on her chest, biting her lip gently, “before I could make him sink into a dream, he had already become a puppet. Now, his remaining obsession, twisted by the Ming style, is mingling with the resentment of the previous patriarchs, and is recently trying to break free from the shackles of this Sonora.”

"He has now become Leviathan's vanguard. If he escapes, the consequences will be unimaginable."

“Therefore, I, Cantrela Fesare—the thirty-sixth head of the Fesare family, hereby implore the one who can devour the Black Tide.” She gazed intently at Duanmu Yan, “For the future of Lina Xita, please help me once again—to completely end this nightmare.”

She clasped her hands together and gently placed them on her chest, her eyes lowered as if in prayer, her voice as soft as the embers in the wind.

"For this—I am willing to agree to any of your conditions and fulfill any of your requests."

Volume 1: Chapter 127 Abu: I'm super, box!

This sudden formality left Duanmu Yan somewhat unaccustomed to it.

After all, in his memory, Cantrell was always elegant and composed, with a touch of languor, as if everything was under her control.

But at this moment—

She laid bare her vulnerability before him without reservation.

Maybe……

She was truly at her wit's end.

For hundreds of years, the Fesalie family has protected the family, generation after generation, struggling through blood and trials, all in an effort to keep that faint flame of hope alive.

If the flame were to truly be extinguished, what would the sacrifices of dozens of generations amount to?

Cantrella would never allow such despair to become a reality—she was already prepared to pay any price for it.

Therefore, when she learned from her subordinates about the existence of someone capable of devouring the Black Tide, a plan was born in her mind.

That was no enemy that ordinary people could face. The centuries-old obsession of the Fesalie family, distorted by the symphony of corruption, had transformed into tangible madness.

Even she could clearly feel her rationality being eroded inch by inch as she approached this area.

Leviathan—it is a plague that spreads across the spiritual realm.

But Duanmu Yan is different.

Even the Kuroshio Current could not erode him.

The head of the Fesari family lowered his head, awaiting his answer.

Time passed second by second, and the chill around her continued to seep into her bones, while the whispers that lingered in her ears gradually became clearer.

But he remained silent.

Cantrell ran her slightly cool fingertips along her fingertips, her gaze somewhat unfocused.

“I understand,” he said. “I will do my best to try.”

Cantrela looked up at him with slight surprise: "You actually... agreed? I thought you would refuse."

“Refuse? How could that be?” Duanmu Yan chuckled lightly. “Didn’t you say that this guy has become the vanguard of the Ming Shiki? If it leaves, the entire Laguna will face annihilation. Although I am not a native of Laguna, this place has long been my second home.”

“You’re right, Cantrella.”

"Human emotions and attachments are our greatest weakness."

"But when threatened, this weakness can also transform into fearless courage, making people willing to risk everything for what they cherish."

Even if we face death head-on, we will never back down.

"In this city, I have friends, and even more so, people I cherish."

"That's why I will never stand by and watch it be destroyed. Even without your request, I would have stood up for it."

"I think you, as the head of the Fesalie family, should understand this awareness better than I do."

"So, the rest—leave it to me."

Cantrell stared at the young man before her, unusually lost in thought.

Her reaction was not the dramatic one he had expected; instead, it was like a gentle breeze, silently resting on him.

In this impenetrable darkness, no one could see her expression at that moment.

Until, a barely audible chuckle finally broke the silence: "It's a bit unfair to say such things now."

"I'm like a jellyfish that's used to the pressure and darkness of the deep sea... Now that I've finally encountered a glimmer of light, I can't guarantee that I won't be tempted by this warmth."

Cantrela flicked her finger, sprinkling a small vial of secret medicine onto Duanmu Yan's shoulder. The purplish powder instantly transformed into mist, swirling around as if it possessed a life of its own.

“This is a secret family remedy that will help you resist the whispers of Leviathan.” Her voice sounded somewhat ethereal in the mist. “Now, it’s up to you.”

Duanmu Yan nodded, then turned around and stepped into the depths of the corridor without hesitation.

With each step, it felt as if we were getting a little closer to the abyss.

The resentment that had almost solidified into a tangible force transformed into a storm, tearing at his reason with madness, his ears filled with the screams of countless frenzied thoughts.

He suppressed the urge to vomit and forcefully pushed open the heavy door. Behind it lay the outline of the Portivino Castle hall, but the space felt strangely expanded several times larger, as if he had stepped into a distorted, mirrored world.

The moment Duanmu Yan stepped in, the frantic whispers that had been lingering in his ears suddenly vanished, replaced by an even more unsettling deathly silence.

Om-!

A violent rumble came from ahead, distorting the entire space. A vast shadow, like a black tide bursting its banks, swept towards him.

"Abu!"

The sound mark on the back of Duanmu Yan's hand shone brightly.

"Look at me!"

Abu appeared in response, opening his massive maw without hesitation and greedily devouring the family resentment that had accumulated over hundreds of years.

But the shadow was far too vast, and it was clear that Abu alone could not completely contend with it.

"Roar--!"

The shadow let out a deafening roar, its massive body rapidly coalescing into a blurry outline—which could be vaguely discerned as the shape of a giant fish.

It angrily swung its massive tail, lashing out at Abu with overwhelming force.

However, just as the tail fin was about to strike Abu, a golden light suddenly burst forth, transforming into a solidified domain that completely imprisoned it.

That was the power of time—to bring this fatal blow to an abrupt halt just before it reached Abu.

Duanmu Yan leaped into the air, his long sword piercing down sharply from the sky, precisely sinking into the giant fish's head.

However, such physical attacks are of little effect against beings formed from pure resentment.

It has no real flesh and blood body; pain is merely an echo of nothingness.

Duanmu Yan was well aware of this.

His true purpose was never to cause harm, but to become the most dazzling target—to attract all its rage and create an opportunity for Abu to devour it.

Without Abu, Duanmu Yan really wouldn't know how to defeat an enemy without a physical form.

But clearly, Abu's abilities are precisely its nemesis—which explains why even Cantrellella is helpless against him.

The blackfish writhed wildly in the shadows, while Abu greedily tore at and devoured its body, causing it to visibly shrink.

Despite its desperate struggle, it was to no avail under Duanmu Yan's full suppression.

Perhaps realizing that escape was hopeless, it began to utter broken syllables in despair.

At first, Duanmu Yan thought it was just a dying wail and didn't listen carefully.

Until its last moment before disappearing, Duanmu Yan heard a faint word—