Boonie Bears: Another World Fantasy

As the bright light shone into the area once more, Sharp landed gently on the ground, the dust settling around him. His armor gleamed softly, as if proclaiming victory and glory to the world.

Mavia stood not far from him, holding in her hand the same weapon Lefève had once used—the puppet hand. That weapon still exuded a chilling aura, and had witnessed countless bloody killings and brutal battles.

Countless souls perished beneath the threads extended from the puppet's hand, each thread representing the passing of a life. This instrument of torture, stained with indelible blood, was already deeply sinful, yet in Mavia's hands, it appeared so natural and harmonious.

She took a few steps forward, standing before the dying Lefie, her eyes filled with complex emotions. Lefie struggled to lift his head, looking at Mavia before him, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

"Your Excellency, I have always been by your side, High Priest, but you have never noticed." Mavia knelt down in front of Lefie, her tone filled with deep respect for him.

Lefie blinked, his lips trembling slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't make a sound.

Mavia gently reached out and stroked Lefie's face: "You have done so much for this nation, for better or for worse, you deserve to be in the highest hall."

Lefère's gaze dimmed, her body began to convulse, and her breathing grew weaker and weaker. Her listless head rested against the rubble, and no sound came from her throat.

“Mus…Mus…he won’t stop…” Lefie’s gaze passed through Mavia and landed on Sharp. “Your secret can’t be kept anymore…he’ll be coming for you soon…”

“We are ready to welcome him at any time.” Naya interrupted her without any politeness, not intimidated by Lefie’s words.

"Long live the King..." Lefie said in his last moments, leaving behind an unsolved mystery.

With his body dissipating, Anarleffy's spirit was completely reduced to ashes. Although his physical body still existed in reality, it had become an empty shell.

"Sharp—"

A soft voice reached her ears, and Sharp turned her head to see Naya gazing at her with beautiful eyes. Finally, the worries that had been building up in her heart for so long were released.

"That was incredibly cool just now..."

After saying this, Naya's eyes gradually welled up with tears, which slid down her cheeks.

Sharp felt a pang of pain in his heart as he looked at her, whom he hadn't seen in so long.

"Even at the most critical moment, I still need to rely on others to survive." As he said this, his body trembled slightly, and the increasingly intense guilt almost made him unable to look her in the eye.

"Little Na, will I ever see you again?" After hesitating for a long time, he still asked this childish question.

I'm sorry, Naya. If my previous weakness and incompetence were due to my mortal nature, now I truly have nothing left.

Naya was silent for a moment, then said, "I know what you want to ask me..." She gently patted Sharp's back, comforting him. Although even she herself couldn't accept this explanation, "But, Sharp, resurrection is almost impossible, and the golden antlers aren't omnipotent. They might be able to replicate my appearance, but my spirit will forever remain blank..."

"Why?" He couldn't accept this ending, so he continued to ask.

Naya gently shook her head, seemingly intending for him to give up, and then slowly walked past Sharp, stopping in her tracks. She deliberately lowered her head, letting the strands of hair on her forehead cover her reddened eyes.

“You will always see me in the flowing energy of the Golden Antlers, Sharp…” she choked out these words before turning away and standing with Mavia.

They are about to disappear.

"Give my regards to my sister."

There seemed to be an insurmountable barrier between them. One side symbolized new life, while the other represented death.

The red spider lilies bloom, and she still smiles amidst them.

……

It was as if he had experienced a long dream. The illusion collapsed and dissipated, and Sharp finally broke free from Lefève's mental control and woke up in a daze.

"You slept really long, handsome." There was no hint of surprise in the voice. Sharp smelled a delicate, feminine fragrance mixed with the scent of lamp oil.

Sharp tried to move his arms, only to find his hands restlessly grabbing a pile of scattered fabric beside him.

Sensing something was wrong, he looked closer and saw that it was a white women's bra that had been carelessly discarded on the ground.

"Whoaaaaaah!" Sharp stared in horror at the pair of eyes hidden in the dimly lit room, instantly panicking.

"Keep your voice down." The other person sternly hissed, raising the small lamp burning on the table. A handsome face came into view.

"Na...Na Ling?" After confirming it was someone he knew, Sharp, still shaken, let out a long sigh of relief and collapsed onto the soft bed. "Where are Zhao Lin and the others?"

“She’s next door, with that four-eared kitten.” Na Ling said, while reaching up to pull up a corner of her clothes. Regardless of whether Sharp was watching, she lifted it up without hesitation.

Suddenly, her snow-white breasts, half-hidden by her clothes, sprang out and swayed gently.

"It's so tight it's killing me, this size is completely wrong..." Na Ling frowned, a troubled expression on her face. At this moment, Sharp, enduring the burning heat on his cheeks, silently turned away.

Although the scene lasted only a moment, Sharp keenly caught a glimpse of Naling's back. He was astonished to find that Naling's back was covered with crisscrossing scars... a striking crimson that blended seamlessly with the deer markings on her body, giving off a deeply eerie feeling.

“What happened? Shouldn’t we still be at that forest camp?” he asked quietly.

"Thanks to you, I'm gone now," Na Ling said deliberately, unwilling to tell him what happened after his mind was invaded. It seemed she was intentionally targeting him, and would continue until the day he completely disappeared.

Na Ling's keen senses allowed her to know what Sharp was doing at that moment without much observation, as his occasional, thieving gaze was still glancing in her direction.

"What's wrong? You're so engrossed in watching that you can't even blink?" she said casually, her hands moving a little slower.

“You don’t seem so angry anymore…” Sharp asked tentatively, noticing Naling’s subtle change. “I guess Naling came to see you.”

"You're not worthy to call her that, kid." Mentioning Naya in front of Na Ling was like a declaration of war, instantly igniting the volatile temper beneath her cold exterior.

“Looks like I guessed right.” Sharp continued, as if he had caught something red-handed. “You’ve been anxious ever since, constantly looking for things to distract yourself… Has something happened?”

“This is none of your business,” Na Ling said, trying to shut him up.

“Perhaps, I’ve heard the same thing before. Naya said she’s not coming back, is that right?” As soon as she finished speaking, Na Ling froze, and the whole room became eerily silent.

Na Ling's expression wasn't illuminated by the flickering lamplight, but rather shrouded in gloom. The small conch shell, placed on the wooden table closest to the light, appeared particularly glaring.

The stalemate lasted for a long time, eventually ending with Naling's silence and retreat. Sharp was left alone in the small "containment facility" to bear the consequences.

Outside the makeshift tent, Na Ling lit another cigarette; the purple flames from the cigarette holder flickered like broken pieces of longing.

Suddenly, as if remembering something, she collapsed to the ground, her hands trembling uncontrollably. She buried her head between her knees and began to sob deeply…

Such a scene had played out once before in the long-forgotten past.

She simply remained a witness to the "survivorship."

I long for your triumphant return; I will never forget you.

The sky I used to look up at every day is now radiant with new colors.

This candid expression of my feelings has finally resonated.

Yet, unknowingly, they still longed for it.

Unwilling to murmur your name

Read it again and again,

My pain, joy, passion, and hesitation,

Only by keeping it hidden deep in one's heart

Your whereabouts remain unknown to this day, even though you went to the battlefield that day.