【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

Chapter 467 [Empire] Those Courages

A quiet-looking boy walked up to me. He didn't say anything, nor did he invite me in. He just sat next to me, quietly. I didn't say anything either, just sat there.

The boy's silence didn't make me uncomfortable; instead, it brought me a strange sense of comfort. Unlike the other students, he wasn't eager to speak. Instead, he sat quietly, as if wanting to give me space and a moment of peace for himself. We sat in silence, each preoccupied with our own thoughts, yet we also felt a rare sense of peace in this silent companionship.

The atmosphere around us was still bustling, everyone's attention focused on team formation and selection, while we seemed to be a forgotten corner. The silence seemed more relaxing than the clamor of the arguments. I could sense he wasn't pressing for anything, nor did he seem to view me as something special, as others did. He simply sat there, without any other agenda.

After a long while, he finally said, "Aren't you going to participate?"

His voice was low and calm, as if coming from afar, without any pressure. I was slightly startled and turned to look at him. He was still sitting quietly in front of me, his eyes not fixed directly on me, but looking somewhere in front of him.

I didn't rush to answer. I thought for a moment and said softly, "There's no need to rush to decide on some things."

He said, "Yes." Then he fell silent again.

There was an unspoken understanding in the air, as if nothing needed to be expressed in words. There was no pressure, no expectations, we were just two parallel stars, in our respective orbits, who met by chance, and sat quietly together by chance, enjoying a moment of peace.

Suddenly, someone noticed us first. Like a drop of water splashing into a frying pan, their excitement almost instantly boiled over. As if desperate to seize a fleeting opportunity, they swarmed around me, vying to invite me in. My initial hesitation melted into a flurry of anxiety at the first sign of approach.

Suddenly, the tension in the air grew intense. Almost instantly, all eyes were on me. Those who had been hesitant, now driven by an irresistible urge, surged forward. Each one eagerly extended their hands, their faces etched with eagerness, as if vying for some crucial opportunity.

I sat there, my eyes slightly fixed, feeling a little uncomfortable.

This sudden change caught me off guard. Everyone's gaze was no longer the cold indifference of before, but a complex mix of anxiety and anticipation. Their actions and words were filled with urgency, as if they were afraid of missing out. Every look was filled with anticipation, and some even had slightly trembling voices as they tried to express their intentions through rapid speech.

"Brother Yang, let's form a team!" A slightly thin boy spoke first, with a nervous smile on his face, but his tone seemed more determined than his actual timidity.

Then, another voice rang out: "I want to team up with you too. I think you're very strong, and the team will definitely be very competitive!"

"Me too, I want to join!" Several boys spoke almost at the same time, and everyone's words were full of tension and eagerness. They no longer had those cold eyes that looked at each other as if they were opponents, but were desperately looking for an opportunity, to seize an opportunity that might benefit themselves.

As I watched the figures surge toward me, a thought flashed through my mind: This is why I didn't want to be seen as a "tool" in their eyes. My identity suddenly became so important and urgent to them, as if I was no longer just an ordinary member of this class, but a potential stock, a "star" that could lead them to success.

I was silent for a few seconds, trying to sort out the confusion in my heart. These boys seemed sincere, but I knew that behind this rapid change of emotions, they hid their own expectations and desire for ranking.

"Don't worry," I said softly, my tone steady yet calm. "I'm still thinking about it."

This sentence slightly eased the tension around us, but the boys were still eagerly waiting for my response. They didn't completely disperse, but continued to stand beside me, their eyes full of expectation and anxiety, as if waiting for me to make a choice.

At this moment, I felt a strange loneliness. Everyone's enthusiasm and attention felt forced, and I was still an outsider in this situation, not knowing how to respond.

I tilted my head slightly and glanced at the boy sitting quietly beside me. He didn't rush to join the chaotic scramble, but instead watched me quietly, seemingly oblivious to the bustle around him. I didn't say anything, nor did I avoid his gaze. I simply nodded, as if tacitly approving his silence.

Then, I stood up and slowly walked away from the crowd that surrounded me. Each step was gentle, as if I were on a path from which there was no turning back. The anxious glances and chattering were gradually left behind, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor until they faded from sight.

I needed no more words, nor did I want to be constrained by those expectant and anxious gazes. Stepping out of the crowd, I felt a sense of peace I'd never felt before. No one questioned me, no one interrupted me. In this quiet space, my own, I slowly gathered my thoughts.

The lights in the hallway gradually dimmed, the empty surroundings reflecting a faint glow. Perhaps I should reassess my place in this school and consider my future. I wasn't eager to meet the expectations of my classmates, nor did I readily cater to them.

That feeling of loneliness came over me again, but there was also a deep sense of relief.

"Dear Lingzhi, you've spent another day at the military academy..." I wrote these words softly. Every time I finished writing them, I felt an inexplicable comfort, as if these simple words could pull my thoughts and emotions away from the complexities of training and interpersonal relationships, and transport me to a world of my own.

The pen danced lightly in my hand, each stroke akin to a conversation within me. Paper has become increasingly precious in this era, especially here—in this isolated military academy. Pen and paper aren't just tools for recording; they also carry my thoughts and feelings about all this. Despite the high cost of paper due to the difficulty in obtaining fiber, I persist in writing by hand because it brings a sense of intimacy I've never experienced before. Compared to the cold, impersonal world of laptops or electronic devices, paper can more deeply touch the tenderness deep within me.

The diary became my monologue, enriching my perception of this unfamiliar environment and allowing me to find a little corner of my own in this chaotic world.

"Today's training almost made my body collapse again, but the strange thing is, I am no longer so afraid of these painful moments. Every pain and fatigue seems to make me tougher." I wrote this, and the words flowed slowly, like a kind of comfort to myself, and also like a seed of expectation, quietly buried in my heart.

"Some people began to smile at me, even approaching me. Perhaps they recognized my abilities, or perhaps they were simply seeking their own place." I paused, bowing my head in thought for a moment. The distant laughter and noises of the outside world resurfaced, but they became distant and indistinct in my ears, as if separated from a world no longer easily accessible.

I picked up the pen again and wrote the last few lines: "No matter what the future holds, I want to continue recording like this until I find my true answer."

After finishing the last sentence, I put down my pen, raised my head, and took a deep breath. The night was quiet, and the lights of the military academy still shone coldly outside the window.

Just as I was considering whether to ask the boy about his willingness to join a team, something else happened. It was devastating news for me. A farewell party was held at the central grounds for the third-year seniors who were heading off to the battlefield for their "internship." Ye Lin, representing the Fourth Army, led the recommended third-year students to the team.

At that moment, the entire venue seemed frozen. The roar of the crowd and the enthusiastic applause grew increasingly distant in my ears, my gaze fixed on Ye Lin on the stage. He stood there, his demeanor calm and composed, his gaze sharp as a knife. Although he represented the Fourth Army, his words were filled with confidence and appeal, but I felt only an indescribable chill sweep over me.

"I'm the scoundrel mercenary you're talking about." Those words were like a sharp knife, slicing through the softest part of my heart, leaving a deep scar. The words I once said to him now echoed in my mind like a prank, stinging me deeply.

I instinctively lowered my head, trying to blend in with the clamor of the crowd around me, to minimize my presence. My heart was beating rapidly, as if every beat reminded me: This person was the one I once hated to face the most. And now, he stood before me, and all the awkwardness and alienation washed over me instantly.

The cheers around me only served to heighten my uneasiness and nervousness. The seniors in the audience rose to their feet, applauding and bidding farewell, while I stood quietly in the crowd, feeling as insignificant as air. It seemed as if everyone was offering their most sincere blessings to the seniors about to depart, but I couldn't do the same.

Ye Lin's eyes swept across the room. He didn't seem to notice me in particular, or rather, his gaze didn't linger on me for very long. But even so, I couldn't ignore the strong aura he exuded—he was more dazzling than anyone else, and more unfathomable than anyone else.

All of this left me feeling incredibly depressed. I understood that my past was inextricably linked to his, a connection that seemed unbreakable. Back then, like a teenager, I harbored a childish pride and naivete, provoking the very person I once considered a "hate." Now, standing before him, I realized that the entire past was like an inescapable nightmare, difficult to erase.

I couldn't help but wonder what the future held. This situation seemed more like a silent trial to me. I wondered if Ye Lin still remembered what I had said, or if it had left any impression on him.

I took a deep breath and tried my best to calm myself down.

Their steps were steady, and the glory on their bodies seemed inlaid on every inch of their skin, gleaming with dazzling light. The younger students in the audience applauded thunderously, their eyes filled with admiration and expectation. That gaze wasn't just admiration for ordinary people, but reverence for heroes and anticipation for the future.

The three seniors' eyes held varying emotions. One seemed the calmest, as if accustomed to such occasions. His steady and mature demeanor made him appear exceptionally composed. Another was even more excited, his eyes revealing unconcealed excitement and pride. As for the third, a slight smile played on his face. Though his expression appeared relaxed, it couldn't conceal a subtle nervousness. Regardless, they were all destined to become heroes, to command the spotlight.

As they stood on the stage, the applause gradually faded, and all eyes were on them. I knew their futures were already deeply marked. This was not just for their personal abilities, but also for the responsibility and mission they carried.

I couldn't help but lower my head, my eyes wandering unconsciously.

The seniors on the stage spoke with steady and powerful voices, conveying their aspirations for the future. They recounted their experiences growing up and shared stories of hard work and perseverance on the battlefield. The younger students in the audience listened with rapt attention, as if every word was guiding their own path.

All eyes were suddenly focused on me, like a single, glaring spotlight. I lifted my head slightly, but couldn't make out the faces around me. My mind went blank, and my heartbeat inexplicably accelerated. Ye Lin's voice echoed in my ears, carrying that familiar, oppressive feeling: "Yang Ruyuan, step out." He didn't say anything else, but gave me an unquestionable order.

I responded almost instinctively, my feet automatically taking a step forward, heading toward the stage. Each step was heavy and slow, as if treading into a silent abyss. Eyes from the audience kept scanning me, and I felt like prey being pushed into the spotlight.

His gaze followed me from the moment I stepped onto the stage. Ye Lin didn't speak immediately, but simply looked at me quietly, with a complex emotion in his eyes. I couldn't decipher the meaning, but at that moment, I felt a certain pressure.

Then, the corners of his lips lifted slightly, revealing a half-smile. At that moment, it seemed as if everything was under his control.

He said nothing more, but turned and left the stage. Thunderous applause erupted from the audience, each sound harsh and distant. I stood alone at the very edge of the crowd, listening to the enthusiastic applause, but it had nothing to do with me.

I didn't join in the joy, nor did I respond to the gazes. Ye Lin's actions gave me a strange feeling, as if he was hinting at something, as if he was silently mocking me. Regardless, at that moment, I could no longer stand by the side of those who had fought alongside me.

I just stood there, silently becoming an existence outside the crowd.