Chapter 90
The moment Wakako opened her eyes, she found herself back in the camp outside Jinxin Port.
Dawn had yet to break.
The real Lin Lin lay beside her, unconscious—whether from fainting or deep sleep, it wasn’t clear. Wakako gently shook her junior sister’s shoulder and checked her pulse, relieved to find her vital signs stable. She was alive, just inexplicably unresponsive.
In the adjacent tent, Hua Yumu and Jing Tianyang were in the same state.
Wakako lifted the third tent and saw Muna collapsed nearby, while the Saint sat in the tent, her body so weak she seemed on the verge of collapse.
Wakako was startled. “Miki?”
The Saint didn’t respond, her face pale and listless.
Wakako rushed to Miki’s side, kneeling before her to carefully check for any injuries. Thankfully, she found no visible wounds. The Saint seemed to be suffering from exhaustion rather than physical harm.
After a while, she looked up, only to see a faint smile on Miki’s pale face. “I love seeing you worry about me.”
Wakako’s fingers curled slightly. Having just calmed her fears, she wasn’t in the mood to analyze the tone of Miki’s words. “…You should find something else to love.”
She hated this feeling—the constant worry, the dread that came from the dangers Miki faced or any unexpected incidents. If only she could truly relax and stop caring, it would mean the Saint was safe and free from threats.
Miki sighed softly. “But this is what I love. What can I do? Sometimes I really want to put myself in danger, not for any other reason, but just to see you lose your composure with worry.”
“No!” Wakako’s face immediately hardened. How could Miki even joke about such things?
Seeing Wakako’s reaction, Miki laughed, almost to the point of breathlessness. Wakako instinctively reached out to pat her back to calm her down but stopped.
She always struggled to understand Miki’s inexplicable emotions and couldn’t decipher the true meaning behind her words.
Perhaps she was just too stupid?
Wakako checked Muna’s breathing, finding it no different from the others.
She asked, “Why aren’t they awake yet?”
Miki lowered her eyelids and said softly, “Because they haven’t realized they’re still dreaming.”
It wasn’t so much a dream as a sudden onslaught of inner demons that had silently invaded their minds the moment they entered the city. This was the first trial set by God.
If they couldn’t even pass this small test, there was no point in continuing the trial.
“I didn’t realize it was a dream before I woke up either,” Wakako admitted.
“Then how did you wake up?”
She woke up because—there were simply too many inconsistencies. Even though she wasn’t particularly sensitive, she couldn’t ignore the overwhelming sense of wrongness.
For example, Hua Yumu would never arrange night watches without assigning pairs, always ensuring Muna had support while caring for the Saint, knowing how draining it could be.
If her master were truly that careless, he wouldn’t have been a captain for so many years, much less earned the Queen’s trust.
Another example was Lin Lin. As a fellow orphan, she would normally worry if Wakako only ate three bowls of rice, fearing her senior sister might be in low spirits or go hungry.
How could she say things like “How can you eat at a time like this?” or “We might as well all die together.”
Of course, these details were merely suspicions. It wasn’t until they stood at the back door of the inn, and Wakako saw the short blade hanging at Lin Lin’s waist, her hand on the hilt, that she finally confirmed this person wasn’t her junior sister.
Or perhaps no one around her was who they claimed to be.
Without hesitation, she raised her hand and thrust out a sword. The person with Lin Lin’s appearance was caught off guard and fell, collapsing like a lump of mud.
Then she woke up from the dream and returned to reality.
…
In the dreams of the other team members, Lin Lin and Hua Yumu were the first to notice something strange.
The three members of Alpha Squad spent every day together, intimately familiar with each other’s habits. Even subtle changes could be detected through their interactions.
In comparison, Jing Tianyang from Beta Squad and Muna from Omega Squad were slower to catch on. They didn’t know the others well enough to recognize what was out of character or to easily spot inconsistencies.
The first time Wakako aroused their suspicion was because of the painting she drew. Though the paper, brush, and ink hastily procured by the city guards were of poor quality, Wakako had meticulously filled in every color.
Hua Yumu and Lin Lin both knew that while Wakako’s handwriting was terrible, her painting skills were surprisingly good—a result of her time spent with the Saint in her youth.
However, the nobility, especially the Saint, were particular about pigments. If the quality wasn’t to their liking, they’d rather not use them at all.
So when Wakako occasionally felt inspired to draw, she would only outline in black ink, never bothering to add color.
A simple outline would have sufficed for the portrait given to the guards. Why go to the trouble of coloring in the Saint’s eyebrows and lips? Though it could be explained away, it didn’t align with Wakako’s usual habits.
The second instance was when they opened the pouch. They all saw that the flower petals given to Hua Yumu by the Queen had begun to wilt and turn yellow.
But items from the divine temple, blessed by God, never withered.
The third and most crucial realization came in the room. Hua Yumu had indeed felt a different texture in the dust—extremely faint, clearly left by someone light-bodied, weighing less than the average person.
Such a person could only be the Saint. If there was no kidnapper, the only explanation was that she had left on her own.
This wasn’t the real Jinxin Port.
What Hua Yumu said to Muna was:
“I know you’re not an impostor. Those two girls are my disciples, and I know them very well. That’s why we must kill the fake ‘Wakako’.”
And Lin Lin had deliberately followed Wakako to the bathroom to keep her distracted while the other three lay in ambush.
The facts proved his judgment was correct.
About an hour later, the four slowly opened their eyes and crawled out of their tents, each experiencing varying degrees of discomfort. Lin Lin’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking, while Jing Tianyang, supported by Hua Yumu, hunched over a rock and vomited for a long time.
Between dry heaves, Muna looked up and confirmed, “The Saint… is safe… that’s good…”
“What the hell was that?” Lin Lin gulped down water to quell her nausea. “We were… trapped in a dream? Why wasn’t Senior Sister with us?”
The Saint said softly, “It was a trial of inner demons.”
Wakako went over and patted Lin Lin’s back. “It’s okay now that you’re awake.”
After regaining their strength with some food, the group recounted their experiences from beginning to end, piecing together what had happened.
In reality, time had stopped on the night they made camp outside the city. After falling asleep, they had all entered the divine trial of inner demons.
The “missing Saint” was actually the result of Miki being the first to find a flaw in the illusion and devise a way to wake up.
After that, Wakako and the others were in different dream realms, seeing different people and events. Wakako was surrounded by four imposters, while the others saw a fake Wakako.
Fortunately, they all eventually found their way out.
This was merely a simple warm-up, yet it left them all shaken. They hadn’t even stepped foot in Jinxin Port yet, and the trial had begun without warning.
Lin Lin hesitated and asked, “Now that the inner demon trial is over… surely this can’t be the entire test? What do we do next?”
The group looked at each other, shaking their heads.
However, this experience proved that in the coming days, they might again face situations where team members were impersonated, or where everything they saw was an illusion. With this in mind, it became imperative to establish a set of secret signals known only to them to confirm each other’s identities.
As mercenaries, they were well-versed in such practices. Soon, the six had devised, memorized, and tested their secret codes.
As for the next step…
The Saint gave concise instructions: “Enter the city.”
Throughout their journey, she had spoken very little, but each word was crucial.
Those unfamiliar with her might have initially underestimated this frail Omega, but after seeing that she was the first to escape the inner demon trial, they dared not look down on her again.
The Saint’s long hair, which had only recently turned black, was now streaked with white from the roots. She had loosely tied it into a bun, the black and white strands intertwining chaotically, mirroring her now grey eyes.
“God has instructed us to enter Jinxin Port,” she said calmly, her tone devoid of emotion yet carrying the authority of a commander. “If we don’t go in, we forfeit without even trying. However, I want to remind everyone to be cautious of what awaits us in the city. Don’t forget the ‘Jinxin Raid’ from the past.”
Nearly six years ago, the Saionji clan’s cousin had betrayed the Kingdom, collaborating with people from the Eagle Kingdom to ambush the armory in Jinxin Port.
Although the Queen had subsequently eradicated the Saionji clan and completely overhauled Jinxin Port’s defenses, it didn’t change the fundamental nature of a port city.
As long as there was a harbor and trade, there would be more ways for enemies to infiltrate compared to other places. This favored their adversaries and disadvantaged them.
Moreover, they had no idea who their enemies were, only vaguely suspecting Saionji Saburo, whose appearance they had committed to memory before setting out.
But Saburo was a frail Omega, not skilled in combat. Just as they were protecting the Saint tightly, if the other side wasn’t stupid, they would definitely make him the mastermind behind the scenes, not face him head-on.
On their last night outside the city, Wakako found herself uncharacteristically unable to sleep. Perhaps years of mercenary life had honed her sense of impending danger, leaving her restless and unable to relax.
She decided to recall her time at the Saionji household, trying to remember if she had any interactions with Saburo that might provide useful clues. Even a small detail could potentially be valuable.
Wakako’s memories were limited. She only remembered that Saburo was looked down upon for his mixed bloodline, that he had a gentle and introverted personality, and that she might have helped him with small tasks once or twice when they crossed paths while she was working.
As for his pheromones, since they were familiar, she vaguely remembered the general scent.
Other than that, there was nothing.
No.
Wakako lightly tapped her head. There must be more than that.
Maybe she would remember once they entered the city.
