Chapter Six If one is light itself, why should one hide?

"Aimoya, what should we do next?" Olina voiced her question, while glancing sideways at the tall, burly man standing a few meters to their right.

The two of them had been captured by this group of mysterious people—black-haired, black-eyed, dressed in strange attire, and speaking an unfamiliar language.

Though they seemed human at first glance, there were distinct differences in their features compared to any people Olina had ever seen. Their faces were softer and more reserved, reminiscent in some ways of the elven folk, though lacking the elves' renowned beauty.

But the greatest difference lay in their hair and eyes, both of which were black—a color Olina had never encountered among any race. Neither humans, elves, giants, nor dwarves possessed black hair or eyes.

They were exactly like the legendary High Humans.

"Aimoya?" Olina noticed that Aimoya was lost in thought, staring ahead at their mysterious captors, oblivious to her words.

"Hm?" Aimoya snapped out of her reverie. "What did you say?"

"I asked, what should we do next?" Olina repeated.

"Fight them, escape, wait here to die, or try to communicate. Which do you choose?" Aimoya slipped off her leather boots, revealing pale, delicate, long legs.

"Communicate? But we don't speak their language—how can we communicate?" Olina immediately dismissed the first options. They couldn't win in a fight, escape was impossible, and waiting to die was not her style. That left only communication, but she couldn't understand a word these people spoke.

"By the way, why do they speak a different language? They’re clearly human, aren’t they?"

This was what puzzled Olina most. She had met all kinds of races—elves, giants, dwarves, even fairies—and every race spoke the same language. Only these people used a tongue she could not comprehend.

"Olina, what language are you speaking right now? Elvish? Human tongue? No—you’re using the Common Speech. A language so ancient it predates recorded history, one that has always existed," Aimoya replied, untying her shoelaces as she spoke.

"Have you ever wondered why? Why do such different races all use the same language for thousands of years?"

Olina looked puzzled, then retorted, "And why is that?"

"How should I know?" Aimoya shot her a look.

"Then why did you act like you knew, just to keep me guessing?" Olina glared right back, then suddenly thought of a possibility.

"Are they from the Underworld?" The words were barely out of her mouth before Olina realized how absurd her guess sounded.

Legends spoke of another world deep beneath their feet, the birthplace of evil, from which all monsters emerged. This place was called the Underworld, or in some faiths, Hell, where the sinful were sent after death.

Aimoya poked Olina’s head and said, "Is your brain stuck on just the world above and below?"

"Then where else?" Olina tilted her head, dodging the slender finger.

"I don’t know." Aimoya shook her head, but her eyes seemed to gleam with excitement.

High Humans! They really exist! It’s not just a legend!

Aimoya’s body trembled with excitement. High Humans—a most unusual name. They appeared in almost every ancient legend, and the older the ruins, the more often the term surfaced.

She had always thought them a myth, invented by some ancient kingdom or tribe. Yet today, it seemed she might have actually encountered beings suspected of being High Humans.

"So, how are we supposed to communicate with them?" Olina returned to her original question.

"Heh, as the future Great Sage, how could such a small problem stump me? Not only will I have them let us go, I’ll also make them escort us back to our territory." Aimoya’s lips curled in a confident smile as she pulled the laces from her boots.

She raised the two laces high.

"Ta-da! With these two laces, the language barrier will be solved!"

"What?" Olina stared, bewildered, at the two utterly ordinary lengths of string.

Has Lady Aimoya gone mad?

Noticing Olina’s look, Aimoya gave a snort, then regarded the knight maiden as one might a country bumpkin. "Don’t underestimate these laces. They are treasures of the Mother Earth Church, said to be two strands of the Mother’s hair, able to enable heart-to-heart communication."

"Legend has it the Elf King Yashi used these very threads a thousand years ago to persuade the dragons to aid the surface world against the demonic tide from the Underworld."

"Amazing!" Olina exclaimed, then frowned. "But why does such a precious relic happen to be with you, Lady Aimoya?"

She knew Aimoya was a member of the Church of Knowledge, so why would someone from that order possess a relic of the Mother Earth Church? And what kind of person uses a sacred relic as a shoelace?

Olina was deeply skeptical, though she herself had once sold a treasure her father had given her.

"Borrowed," Aimoya replied with utmost sincerity, nodding for emphasis. "Yes, borrowed."

Before Olina could ask another question, Aimoya got to her feet and walked straight toward the mysterious guard.

Iron Fist eyed the green-haired woman approaching him with suspicion.

Aimoya lifted her right hand, already tying one brown lace around her wrist, and indicated with a gesture that he should give the other lace to someone else.

"For me?" Iron Fist pointed to himself.

The beautiful green-haired woman shook her head, gesturing toward Qin Le, who was rummaging through corpses some distance away.

There was only one pair of laces, so if they were to communicate, it should be with the leader. From her observations, all these people deferred to that one.

"For the captain?" Iron Fist took the lace, gave it a cursory inspection, and then shouted, "Captain, this lady has something for you!"

Qin Le, who was crouched on the ground, looked up, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, and strode over, Fishhead close behind.

Once they reached him, Qin Le asked, "What’s going on?"

"Captain, the lady wants to give you this." Iron Fist handed over the brown lace.

"For me?" Qin Le took the lace, turning to the green-haired woman with a puzzled glance.

Aimoya nodded vigorously, pointing to her own right wrist, then to his, indicating he should tie it on.

Seeing her gestures, Qin Le immediately understood her meaning—she wanted him to tie the lace to his wrist.

He wasn’t sure what she was up to, but since they needed to communicate with these two, establishing good relations was essential.

‘Perhaps it’s some custom,’ he thought.

Qin Le raised his hand to tie it on, but Fishhead stopped him. "Captain, let me try it first. If there’s no problem, you can try next."

Fishhead didn’t believe a piece of string could be dangerous, but this was another world, and caution was wise.

Qin Le considered for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."

Fishhead tied the lace to his wrist and looked at the green-haired woman.

[Hello, my name is Aimoya.]

A clear, ethereal voice rang in Fishhead’s mind.

He opened his mouth slightly, dazed, disbelief in his eyes.

‘An illusion?’

Before the thought was complete, the voice sounded again, shattering his skepticism.

[Could you give the lace to your leader? I wish to speak with him.]

The first time might have been an illusion. The second, certainly not. And the woman was pointing at the captain!

"Incredible." Fishhead composed his expression, marveled, and untied the lace, handing it back to Qin Le.

"What happened?" Qin Le asked, having noticed Fishhead’s astonished face.

"This string is magical—it lets this lady’s voice enter my mind," Fishhead explained.

"Oh?" Qin Le examined the brown lace with interest. It looked and felt like an ordinary string—subpar by industrial standards.

He tied it to his wrist. Instantly, a voice sounded in his mind.

[Hello, my name is Aimoya.]

The voice was beautiful, the sensation uncanny, as if it echoed his own inner thoughts.

A completely unfamiliar language, yet he understood its meaning perfectly.

[Hello, my name is Qin Le,] he replied inwardly.

Aimoya’s mouth fell open slightly. [Aren’t you surprised? Doesn’t this seem incredible to you?]

Her companion had clearly been shocked, but this man’s expression remained calm. No matter how learned one might be, such a means of dialogue should astonish anyone—especially someone who didn’t even speak the Common Speech.

Moreover, he seemed to grasp the use of the Heartstring right away—just by forming the words in his mind, he could transmit the meaning, regardless of language.

[It’s extraordinary, remarkable,] Qin Le nodded slightly, though his expression was too calm. He had seen even more wondrous things, and while this telepathic conversation was amazing, it couldn't truly shock him anymore.

As for how he knew how to use the string? Pure luck.

It was just like using a team voice channel—he was used to that.

Qin Le looked at the green-haired woman’s pointed ears and asked, [Are you an elf?]

[You know of us?] Aimoya was visibly startled. These strangers didn’t even speak the Common Speech; they shouldn’t know anything of this world. Yet this man recognized her as an elf.

[A guess,] Qin Le answered honestly. He’d never actually seen an elf, but they appeared in legends and films in his past life.

The woman before him was beautiful, with long, pointed ears. The image was unmistakable. He hadn’t expected her to truly be an elf.

Could this new world be a Western fantasy realm, with magic and all?

Qin Le felt a flicker of anticipation. Who hadn’t dreamed of wielding supernatural power in their youth?

Aimoya asked, [You don’t speak the Common Speech?]

Qin Le shook his head slightly. [No, I don’t.]

He didn’t know what the Common Speech was, but he certainly didn’t speak it.

[Why not?] Aimoya’s emerald eyes seemed to glow.

Qin Le gazed at her in silence for a few seconds, then replied, [We’ve never heard of the Common Speech. We use Xuan Language, the tongue developed from the Xuan Law people over thousands of years.]

"Xuan Law…" Aimoya clumsily mimicked the unfamiliar words in her mind, a bright smile blooming on her face.

[May I ask, where are you from? Who are you?]

Aimoya had traveled far and wide over decades, meeting profit-driven merchants, spirited monster hunters, and adventurous souls brimming with curiosity. She had seen dragons soaring in the sky, dwarves devoted to drink, giants towering six meters high, and fairies as ephemeral as dreams…

But never had she encountered a race unable to speak the Common Speech—least of all black-haired, black-eyed humans she had never seen before.

[We come from the Xuan Law Republic. We are an exploration team from the Republic,] Qin Le answered without hesitation or subterfuge, stating the plain truth.

Had he come here alone, he might have chosen to conceal the facts, even feigned ignorance, for the sake of personal safety, to avoid persecution as an aberration or being dissected like a lab rat.

He would have lain low, learned, adapted, and ultimately blended in, keeping forbidden knowledge hidden in his heart.

But he was not alone, nor did he stand here as an individual. Behind him stood millions of compatriots. He was here on behalf of his nation, seeking advantage and survival for his people.

The arrival of the Xuan Law Republic was for growth and progress, to seek greater development and more resources. They were not thieves skulking in the dark, resorting to petty machinations—Xuan Law had no need for such tactics.

As a nation, they would act openly and honorably, announcing their presence to the world with all the weight and confidence of a great civilization.

Xuan Law would not fear being discovered. They would stand in the daylight, asking all: do you wish to fight, or to be friends?

Just as in the original world, Xuan Law knew that their ideals would set them against the world, against every country and every noble, a struggle to the bitter end. Yet they still cried out their ideals with all their might, even if they stood alone against all.

For the Republic was a beacon of light for its people and would never fear any tyrant or monster, nor ever compromise.

When one is the light itself—why hide?