Role Playing the Dark Horse Character-Chapter 126 : Chapter 126

Chapter 126: A Deal?
In the distance, the reddish-brown sky was torn apart by the clash of abilities, sharp winds making the dark sky seem closer to the ground.
The Floating City seemed to be falling.
On its sunlit side, high-rank ability collisions sent out waves of booming roars, while on its shadowed side, the lower-class residents living in darkness could only huddle in their ‘caves,’ praying for it all to pass.
The city felt as if it were being gripped tightly by a mysterious force from the ground, seizing this falsely prosperous airborne city and dragging it down with invisible chains.
“Boom!”
The first SS-rank ability user made their move.
SS-rank domain-type ability user Yishi swapped the sunlit and shadowed sides of the Floating City, protecting the lower-class residents amid the city’s collapsing roars.
After that, he transferred all civilians out of this final battlefield.
Tide and the Former Ability Guild, cradling their spark in the darkness, had waited six years for this day.
It was blood and cries that kept them going, as well as the shared belief they held, the dawn they longed to see.
Even now, the sky remained oppressive, the sun itself obscured.
But this was their most exhilarating, most resolute moment.
Tide’s members poured out in full force—low-rank, mid-rank, even civilians wielding firearms.
High-rank ability wind, gentle as an embrace, carried Sang Feiling as she floated in midair.
Though she had lost both legs, it didn’t hinder her from traversing this world.
Her wind could be a piercing blade or a force to save innocent lives.
Below her, a warrior encased in metal ran through the city.
His face was masked, but his eyes shone through the metal, fixed firmly on his goal. Beside him, his comrades kept pace.
A black-haired, emerald green-eyed girl with long hair flowing in the wind waved her hand, bringing warm healing abilities to ease her companions’ wounds.
A red-haired former noble young master, his face smudged with dust, paid no mind as he amplified his ability, stacking strength for their cause and playing a melody for victory.
After Yishi’s first spatial transfer, noble ability users appeared in droves, but only S-rank ones showed themselves.
SS-rank ability users remained seated at the palace table, symbolizing their status and authority.
The restrictions Libra had placed on them hadn’t been lifted.
They couldn’t act.
“Not allowed yet?” the Sang Clan Patriarch said, his face anxious.
Beside him, the Feng Clan Patriarch glanced at the imperial emperor at the head of the table, who, in truth, no longer held any real authority.
Low-rank and mid-rank ability clashes meant little to them.
The world’s power always rested in the hands of high-rank ability users.
But the world was unstable, and an SS-rank ability collision could destroy everything, dragging everyone into death.
“What’s Libra’s plan?” the Feng Clan Patriarch asked. “Hasn’t It always been waving the banner of diplomacy before force? Now those traitors are knocking at Floating City’s doorstep, and It does nothing?”
“We’re all gathered here because of Libra,” another noble patriarch said. “But the only one truly convinced by Libra is Lin Ran. I don’t care about noble privileges—those come with being SS-rank anyway. I just don’t want to be trapped in a smaller cage or outright killed by Libra for refusing.”
“Reasons don’t matter. What matters is what we do now!” The Sang Clan Patriarch stood up. “Let them run wild? If this world collapses, not one of us escapes!”
Whether SS-rank ability users or the even higher SSS-rank Libra, none could break free from this world’s constraints.
Perhaps some among these nobles, whose glory was built on the bones of the masses, chased power or indulgence.
But when it came to matters of life and death, they wouldn’t stand idly by.
“No, I mean Libra must have Its own plan,” the noble patriarch said. “Ever since the Prophet arrived, It’s prioritized his every move.” He turned, glancing at the floating black crow feathers outside the window. “Even this chaotic rebellion—it’s what the Prophet wanted to see, and Libra allowed it.”
“What could make Libra compromise to this extent?” the Feng Clan Patriarch murmured.
“It found a way—a permanent solution to instability,” the Emperor said.
Princess Wuyu sat poised nearby, and under her earnest gaze, a voice drifted into the hall on pink petals, bringing this smokeless quarrel to a close.
“You have ten minutes.”
Libra permitted the SS-rank nobles to act.
The voice, as always, was refined and gentle, yet it floated, as if transmitted ethereally from the sky’s edge.
“Resolve everything you wish within ten minutes. That’s the maximum limit.”
In what could be called ‘merciful’ consideration, It granted them a channel to vent their recent frustrations.
Ten minutes—Libra gave them ten minutes of freedom.
Instantly, the Sang Clan Patriarch’s figure vanished from his seat, and several others stood up.
They swiftly left the hall, now useless to them.
At Floating City’s frontlines, Sang Feiyuan’s ability clashed with Sang Feiling’s.
The gale and the roaring impact below made their voices sound fragmented in the wind, yet still clear.
“Don’t oppose me,” Sang Feiling extended a hand to Sang Feiyuan. “Come with me, leave Floating City. Isn’t that better?”
“You packed your bags and left home back then, abandoning me. Why think I’d abandon the clan for you now?” Sang Feiyuan coldly refused.
At that moment, from the center of Floating City, a shockwave surged upward from the imperial palace’s spire, like a colossal wave smashing fine ripples against the shore, seizing control of the sky’s winds.
The Sang Clan Patriarch had stepped in.
The SS-rank ability user’s power struck Sang Feiling without mercy.
At the same time, Yishi, noticing the shift, was entangled by the Feng Clan Patriarch.
In an instant, Sang Feiling was blasted into the ground.
“Sister Sang!” Tang’s healing followed swiftly.
Sang Feiling struggled to rise from the ruins, but the next SS-rank attack came immediately.
“Boom!”
The earth was pierced, a hole punched through both sides of Floating City.
Furious, the Sang Clan Patriarch bellowed, “I told you to kill a traitor! Such a small task, and you’ve dragged it out this long!”
Sang Feiyuan stared blankly at the gaping hole, through which the ground below Floating City was visible.
“You’ve been useless since childhood, failing at everything. No face, no substance, always whimpering, never rising! And that traitor—bold enough to betray the clan!” The Sang Clan Patriarch unleashed days of pent-up rage, winds around him like furious thunder, recklessly venting his discontent.
Under an SS-rank ability user’s power, none could escape.
Yiming, advancing, turned back.
Metal extended from his arm, shielding against the sharp wind blades.
“Tang! An Huyu!” he shouted.
His comrades exchanged a glance, silently shifting tactics to prioritize rescuing their ally.
Other S-rank ability users from Tide faced their own opponents.
Yan Changxiao, Rao Yue, and others charged toward the palace from another route, their high-rank abilities clashing, making the path to the summit treacherous.
A white-haired, heterochromatic-eyed youth was intercepted on his way to the palace at Floating City’s peak.
Beside him, a red-haired noble calmly lowered his hood, revealing his true face to former colleagues.
“I’m going to see Heige,” Dan said.
The next moment, he unleashed his ability, immense pressure crushing the path ahead.
“Step aside, please. I am too,” An Heyu said slowly beside him.
His golden pupils held no hesitation or struggle, only resolve. “And to settle an old score.”
A score that once made him waver in pain, uncertain, from the very start of this path.
The root of meeting these people, of being part of these events.
At that moment, within the hole piercing Floating City, a breeze stirred.
“Sang Feiyuan, stop looking so weak!” the Sang Clan Patriarch commanded. “Now! Kill them back immediately!”
“I…” Sang Feiyuan faltered, head lowered, staring where Sang Feiling had vanished.
But suddenly, a faint breeze brushed his fingertips.
Soft, like it was tugging his pinky, making a promise.
“Want to see the outside? I bet you do, ‘cause I do,” a child’s voice echoed in his mind.
Another voice said, “I don’t dare.”
He didn’t dare defy the patriarch, didn’t dare resent those who killed his puppy, didn’t dare step out of his safe blanket.
Only one person would drag him, pulling him out of useless tranquility.
His sister, Sang Feiling.
The next moment, he closed his eyes.
The faint breeze seemed unsteady amidst the raging wind, unable to control itself.
But at that moment, the gentle breeze suddenly turned sharp.
With a flick of his wrist, Sang Feiyuan, who in the eyes of the Sang Clan Patriarch was just a boy who would run home crying after being bullied, transformed the wind into a blade, plunging it into the chest of the SS-rank ability user who looked at them with disdain.
“What?!” the Sang Clan Patriarch exclaimed.
The breeze blew upward from the void below, and the woman with long emerald hair rode the wind back to the battlefield.
“Did you enjoy the travelogue I wrote? You’ve read it, haven’t you? I know you were the one who organized and published it,” she asked.
Those desires and unspeakable yearnings suddenly became crystal clear at that moment.
Sang Feiyuan tightly gripped his wind blade, letting it wreak havoc in the Sang Clan Patriarch’s veins.
At the same time, he turned his head.
He saw his ever-strong sister, smiling at her brother who had mustered the courage to defy their clan patriarch for the first time, with the same smile she had when they were children.
“From now on, I’ll take you to see it with your own eyes, to witness this world.”
Not just words, but like the free and unrestrained wind.
The first SS-rank ability user fell at that moment, and Sang Feiyuan grasped the hand Sang Feiling extended.
“Take a look at the dawn in your eyes.”
Inside the imperial palace, ten minutes after Libra’s approval, the sparsely seated long table emptied instantly, leaving only the imperial family members without abilities, unable to participate in this war, lingering in place.
“Ten minutes? Isn’t that a bit long?” Princess Wuyu seemed to ponder for a while, finally unable to hold back.
She stood up abruptly, worried, “The uncertainty brought by SS-rank ability users acting freely is too great. Our imperial family has stabilized the noble SS-rank ability users for years to reduce this uncertainty, sacrificing many citizens for it. And now we’re letting them act freely?”
“Is this a joke?” Princess Wuyu questioned.
But the emperor suppressed her protest.
“He is our god,” the emperor said.
The decisions of the god were beyond their resistance; they could only comply.
Even if they didn’t understand, were confused, or found it unbelievable, it wasn’t something they could control.
Because the imperial family, stripped of their role as divine spokespersons, were merely ordinary people unable to protect themselves in this battle.
Princess Wuyu stood there, somewhat dazed, her pupils trembling.
She suddenly turned her head, looking at an empty seat that had been vacant from the start.
It was the seat prepared for the imperial prophet, though that person had never bothered with such exchanges.
At that moment, Princess Wuyu suddenly understood something.
“The prophet never thought we were right from the beginning,” she said softly, as if she could see the black-haired youth in the wing-horse carriage heading to the Floating City, his indifferent yet annoyed expression as he gazed out the window.
“He had his own preparations all along,” Princess Wuyu said. “I never convinced him, he…”
Pink petals floated past the empty hall, drifting out the window, carried by the wind to higher places, toward the terrace atop the palace.
At that moment, the white-haired god stood on tiptoes, speaking to the black-haired youth before Him amidst the chaos and noise.
“You will craft a perfect dramatic conclusion, laying the foundation for a new world built on faith and passion, ensuring their efforts are not in vain, their trust never betrayed, and letting them see the dawn they long for.”
“Trade with me. Use your existence to reinforce this cage-like world, to save this decaying world, to erase destruction, and become part of its rebirth.”
The god’s voice resounded in the wind, asking, “Will you trade?”
The black-haired youth, as always, wore a carefree, easygoing smile, his lips curving playfully.
“Sure.”
Beneath the silver-edged mask, the red mark over his left eye remained as vivid as ever.
Far brighter and more beautiful than the color of the sky.