Chapter 1179, Are You Truly Willing to Accept This?

Translator: Silavin

  

“My people…” Qin Yichen drew a slow, deep breath. Somewhere out there, across the vast continent, untold numbers of the Human Race lived in exactly this kind of lightless, sunless misery. The thought of it sent a dull ache through his chest. He felt bitter and furious in equal measure.

 

To rescue every last one of them, just what kind of impossible, mountain-crushing effort would that require?

 

After all, the Human Race was the finest delicacy in the eyes of the Myriad Races. Across uncountable centuries, countless species had grown so thoroughly accustomed to this arrangement that they no longer even questioned it.

 

Even with the identity of a Divine Tier Race behind him, he doubted he could manage to protect them all.

 

In the next moment, Qin Yichen’s mind stirred, and a layer of Spiritual Energy formed into a barrier that spread silently outwards, enveloping the entire secret hall.

 

“Raise your heads. Look at me.”

 

He gazed at the huddled mass of figures who had not once dared to stand since he’d entered, and let out a quiet, inward sigh before speaking. His voice was unhurried and measured.

 

This time, he deliberately threaded a touch of Spiritual Energy into his words, causing them to be unable to refuse his words.

 

As his voice settled, the hundred-odd members of the Human Race who had been kneeling with their faces pressed to the floor finally, tentatively, lifted their heads. One by one, cautious eyes turned towards him.

 

Every single gaze was saturated with terror.

 

Watching them, Qin Yichen quietly withdrew the pressure of his aura until he appeared, to all outward appearances, like an entirely ordinary Mortal.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Even through their fear, some of the assembled group seemed to register that something was off. Amid their frightened stares, a flicker of puzzled uncertainty began to creep in.

 

The members of the Human Race who had been enslaved across the continent spent their whole lives in a very small circle. They had seen all manner of Foreign Races, but they had never encountered someone who looked so clearly distinguished by the Myriad Races yet whose aura felt so startlingly close to their own.

 

And, as he watched them, Qin Yichen’s keen perception caught something else, something buried deep in the eyes of certain individuals among the kneeling crowd. A thin, carefully concealed thread of hatred.

 

It was well-hidden. It was obscured beneath layers of caution so thick it was almost invisible. But Qin Yichen caught it clearly.

 

Rather than anger, a rush of genuine warmth filled him.

 

If hatred remained, then they had not yet gone entirely numb. There was still something to save.

 

“Are you truly willing to go on being livestock for another Race to consume?” His gaze swept across the hundred-odd members of the Human Race below, his voice mild and even as it rang out.

 

At his question, quite a few of them couldn’t help but lower their heads again. Tears glimmered in their eyes, bright with something that looked very much like fury.

 

Even so, not one of them dared to answer.

 

They had been bred in captivity from birth. Many of those beyond these walls, entire generations of them, had known no other life. Even if they refused this fate in their hearts, what could they possibly do about it? To speak such a thing aloud would not merely endanger themself. It would bring punishment down upon every single person penned alongside them.

 

Because the Myriad Races would never, under any circumstances, permit another Ancestor Hongjun to rise.

 

A rebellious thought, even a single passing impulse, if discovered, would be strangled before it could even sprout. The strong among the Myriad Races would see to it.

 

“You now all belong to me. I purchased you. Whatever you are thinking, you may say it freely. I guarantee you no harm will befall you.”

 

Those who had been staring at the floor were doing their best to hold themselves together, but from the way certain shoulders trembled ever so slightly, Qin Yichen could read their unwillingness plain as daylight.

 

At his words, the hundred-odd members of the Human Race stared at him in collective disbelief.

 

Every member of the Myriad Races who had ever kept them captive had regarded them as livestock without exception. When has anyone ever spoken to them like this?

 

“I refuse to continue being livestock.”

 

The moment Qin Yichen’s voice settled, a young man, ignoring the urgent tugging of those on either side of him, snapped his head up and roared at full volume.

 

*Thud!*

 

The sound of a heart dropping to the floor, so to speak, was almost audible from every other person in the room.

 

The rest of them felt a flash of pure panic cross their faces. In their collective memory, every single person who had ever dared speak words this treasonous had come to a gruesome end, frequently dragging many of their fellow captives down with them.

 

And yet, looking at this young man, face blazing with fury, eyes brimming with defiant tears he refused to shed, those hundred-odd Souls fell silent as one.

 

Which of them had ever chosen a fate that designated them as someone else’s meal from the moment they drew breath?

 

“What is your name?”

 

What happened next was not what any of them expected. Qin Yichen did not grow angry. Instead, something rather like a smile found its way onto his face, and when his voice came again, it was warm, and unmistakably approving.

 

“I am Thirteen. Kill me or cut me apart, do as you please.”

 

The young man thumped his chest and bellowed it without flinching.

 

His voice shook, just slightly, but in this moment, his spine was perfectly, defiantly straight.

 

“Thirteen?” Qin Yichen murmured it to himself, a small furrow appearing between his brows, before smoothing away just as quickly.

 

On this continent, the social standing of the Human Race sat at the absolute bottom. Having a designation at all was already something of a luxury. Who, after all, would bother giving a proper name to a pen full of livestock?

 

“From now on, you will be called Ni Shisan.”

 

Qin Yichen lifted one finger, just slightly, and spoke.

 

“Ni Shisan?”

 

*Thud*! A hundred pairs of eyes blinked in near-identical bewilderment.

 

Clearly, Qin Yichen’s response had not come remotely close to what any of them had braced for. They had assumed, from the moment he had walked in, that he had simply come to amuse himself at their expense. Then, he had asked a question so profoundly forbidden it should not have been uttered aloud on this continent, and then, against all logic and precedent, showed no inclination whatsoever to uproot the problem at its source.

 

And now he had given Thirteen a surname.

 

Even Thirteen himself looked as though the ground had shifted beneath his feet. He had arrived at this moment with his blood running hot, fully prepared to die.

 

He had not, in any of his wildest imagination, expected that Qin Yichen would show not the slightest trace of reproach, and would, on top of everything, grant him a surname.

 

Looking across the entire history of this continent, there were probably few members of the Human Race who had ever been granted a surname at all. The common practice was to assign them numbers during transactions, the way one marks livestock for sale.

 

“Tell me. Do you wish to live on this continent with dignity, relying on your own ability?”

 

In the face of those many stunned, uncomprehending stares, Qin Yichen offered no explanation, and showed no inclination to reveal his own identity.

 

His own background, after all, was a matter of the utmost sensitivity. The moment such a thing spread, powerful experts would come to verify it, and if his true identity were uncovered, even with abilities that could shake Heaven, escaping the territory of the Myriad Races in one piece would become a very grim proposition.

 

At his words, silence fell over the hundred-odd members of the Human Race. More than a few of their faces carried an expression that could only be described as lost.

 

On this continent, being Human was a brand of inferiority. It was, by definition, incompatible with the concept of dignity.

 

“If you are willing, I can give you everything you want.”

 

Watching those faces shift, slowly, from fright to something weightier, Qin Yichen spoke again.

 

The words had barely finished sounding before every single one of the hundred-odd people before him felt their breathing quicken.

 

Silavin: Ni Shisan. Still Thirteen but Ni, 逆, means to go against. So, go against his fate as number thirteen.