Chapter Five: Taken as a Disciple? What a Joke!

Although Nightstar was deeply curious, he didn’t want to pressure his two close friends; he preferred that they come to him of their own accord once they had sorted out their feelings. Cutting off the teasing, he quickly stopped C.C. from continuing. From what he knew of her, she was likely just toying with Little White.

“Humph!” Little White realized it had fallen into their trap, turned away sullenly and refused to look at the two who were teasing it.

“But what about my pizza, Nightstar~~~?” C.C. whined, her eyes instantly brimming with tears when Nightstar told her to stop. Even though he knew this was merely an act, Nightstar couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

“You’ll get your pizza, don’t cry!”

“Hehe, I just knew you were a good person, Nightstar!” As soon as he agreed, C.C.’s tears vanished as if they had never existed. Her lips curled into a genuine, enticing smile as she handed Nightstar a “good guy” card.

“Aren’t good guy cards usually given as a form of rejection?” Nightstar muttered to himself, feeling slightly dejected.

“It’s because you’re such a good person that I like you!” C.C. replied, without a trace of the usual shyness of a young woman. Her smile was bewitching, like that of an enchantress, and she pressed a light kiss to Nightstar’s cheek before laughing softly.

“Really? I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t slept at all. I’d better go catch up on some rest!” This time, it was Nightstar who lost his composure. Who could have guessed that one of the world’s most powerful figures—just sixteen years old—was still an innocent boy at heart, completely defenseless against someone like C.C.? Flustered, he made a hasty retreat.

As he fled, Nightstar could clearly hear C.C.’s melodious laughter behind him. Embarrassed, he quickened his pace and ran out.

Night. On a secluded, unknown island, Nightstar stood silently before a humble grave, his thoughts flickering in silence. After a while, he lifted his head to gaze at the mesmerizing starry sky. The weather was pleasant; without a single cloud, the bright moon and the deep, endless stars drew his gaze upward.

“Didn’t you say you were tired? After such a taxing day, you come out to stargaze instead of resting?” The stillness was short-lived, soon broken by the sudden arrival of C.C. and Little White.

“Maybe only when I look at the stars can I truly find peace in my heart,” Nightstar replied, his words seemingly out of nowhere, but both C.C. and Little White understood. Perhaps it was due to those eyes that reflected the entire night sky—Nightstar had always loved watching the stars since childhood, claiming that the sight gave him a sense of tranquility.

The secret technique he now practiced had also come to him during one of those nights of stargazing; it was the very foundation of his current power. Perhaps it was the starry sky itself that had nurtured his growth.

“C.C., did I really do the wrong thing?” His entire life, he had worked toward one goal: avenging himself upon the Demon King. The Demon King did indeed deserve his hatred and his vengeance did bring some closure, but even so, his mother could never return. Nightstar began to doubt whether his past decisions had been a mistake, and it seemed he was about to fall into a new inner torment.

Just then, snow began to fall from the sky, delicate hexagonal crystals drifting down, bringing a chill to the night. C.C. raised her hand to catch a snowflake; instead of melting, the snow accumulated in her palm, forming a small mound of white.

“Do you know why snow is white, Nightstar? It’s because it has forgotten its original color. I hope you can forget the past and smile more. Gentle boys are the ones who win a girl’s heart!” C.C. spoke as she played with the snow, her gaze carrying a deeper meaning that Nightstar instantly understood.

He didn’t need C.C.’s reminder to realize something was wrong—it was summer! It had been hot during the day; there was no way it should be snowing. Only the three of them—C.C., Nightstar, and Little White—were on this island. No matter how unjust the world, even miracles of vengeance shouldn’t reach this place.

Furthermore, the snow didn’t melt in C.C.’s hand. Nightstar was now certain this snow was man-made, but to create such a phenomenon without his noticing—no one in the world, as far as he knew, was capable of that.

“Nightshadow Star!” Instantly, Nightstar activated his ability. The Nightshadow Domain wasn’t just an illusionary sky; it was his own personal realm. Within its bounds, nothing could escape his notice. Immediately, he detected a faint disturbance in the woods.

Without hesitation, he drew the anomaly into his domain and unsheathed his spare ordinary metal sword. With a single horizontal slash, the blade traced a brilliant arc—so fast none could follow its path. In that moment, only a resplendent silver crescent split the world: “Stellar Arc!”

The snowflakes seemed drawn toward the intruders, coalescing into an icy blue sphere before them. The instant the silver arc met the sphere, it exploded—but not with the fiery heat of gunpowder, rather with a bone-chilling cold that left Nightstar’s sword hand slightly numb.

Nightstar’s expression darkened. He knew his attack hadn’t harmed them. The effect of the Stellar Arc was absolute; it cut cleanly, causing no explosion—merely slicing through anything it touched.

“Well, you truly are the one who slew the Demon King. Those two were indeed worthless, but someone who could kill them certainly isn’t,” came a voice as a man and two women stepped from the snow’s screen. The man’s presence radiated darkness, though not evil; the two women each had six pairs of angelic wings—one white, one black—just as described in legends of angels and fallen angels.

This was none other than Xiao Nightshade, who couldn’t resist coming to stir up trouble. Nightstar frowned, eyeing the trio who, though harmless, still put him on guard. Yet some voice within assured him they meant no harm, that the starry sky had already told him there was no danger. Still, he had no idea what they wanted. He spoke, “If you have no business here, please leave. You are not welcome on this island.”

“Wait, wait! Actually, I came here to make you my disciple! Young man, I can tell you have extraordinary talent. Here, the Sacred Palm Manual is yours for only two-fifty… cough, cough. To be able to slay the Demon King at your age, how about this: you don’t even need to kneel—just bow, and I’ll take you as my disciple, teach you all my skills, and entrust you with the task of defending world peace! How’s that sound?” The man spoke in halting speech, his face eager, as if the words “Say Yes!” were written across his expression.

Nightstar was suddenly filled with an inexplicable urge to pummel this man. If he really agreed, he’d regret it for the rest of his life; it would be a lasting humiliation. These feelings were inexplicable, but he had always trusted his instincts—so he resolutely refused.