It hurts.
His teeth were clenched so tightly it felt as though if he released his grip, he would die. His fists trembled, blood trickling from the nails pressed into his palms.
Bai Wusheng could not control his convulsing body.
A burning rage, so intense it made his scalp tingle, filled his entire being.
Red.
Everything was red.
The scene before him was drenched in dark red blood.
The mountain, which had been full of greenery just a day ago, had been completely covered in blood in the span of a single day. It had changed color.
Everywhere were severed limbs and broken arms, and the air itself seemed to be stained with a dark red hue.
Only death remained.
"How did it come to this?"
Bai Wusheng tried to stand, but the large hole in his abdomen, about the size of a fist, left him powerless.
His left arm had been torn off, his legs numb and unresponsive. Bai Wusheng knew that he was about to die.
But he didn't feel fear, nor did he feel any physical pain.
Compared to the mental anguish that constantly assaulted him, the pain in his body was nothing.
"…Big Brother…"
The image of the tall, steady figure of his elder brother appeared in his mind.
But what he saw before him now was the tragic corpse of his elder brother.
"Junior brothers…"
The scene of them dying with their shoulders and heads severed burned painfully into his eyes.
"…Master..."
They were all gone.
The last elite squad of the Martial Alliance had arrived at Mount Tian three days ago, vowing to defend world peace at any cost, but now they had all gone to a place from which there was no return.
It was a noble sacrifice.
Would future generations praise us?
With great difficulty, Bai Wusheng turned his head, his gaze filled with hatred as he stared at the mastermind behind all of this.
On a small mound of corpses, sat a man known to the world as the "Heavenly Demon."
Even though the surrounding environment was soaked in blood, the Heavenly Demon appeared calm and serene, eyes closed as if detached from the world around him.
Staring at that calm face, Bai Wusheng felt a strange sensation but could not suppress the rage and hatred burning within him.
For those who had died with dozens of swords stabbed into their bodies, offering their precious lives, this was unfair.
At that moment, the Heavenly Demon slowly opened his eyes.
His eyes were hollow and calm as they locked onto Zheng Ming.
"…Qinglian Sword Sect."
His mouth slowly opened.
Qinglian Sword Sect.
These four words caused Bai Wusheng's heart to sink.
"It's a pity, Qinglian Sword Master… If you could kill me and return to Central Plains, it would have been your lifelong glory… Too bad, our fates have already run their course."
"…Shut up!" Bai Wusheng gritted his teeth.
"You can be proud now," the Heavenly Demon said slowly, extending his hand toward Bai Wusheng. "Although many helped you, your sword still managed to wound me. In the name of the Heavenly Demon, I admit that the Qinglian sword is the number one sword in the Central Plains."
"Shut your mouth!"
Bai Wusheng's overflowing fury supported him as he slowly stood up, channeling the last trace of his innate energy. The broken Qinglian sword nearby flew into his hand.
The Heavenly Demon looked at Bai Wusheng without expression, muttering to himself, "If I had one more day, I could have become the true Heavenly Demon."
Step by step.
Bai Wusheng limped forward toward the Heavenly Demon, and the long, terrifying war was about to come to an end.
As Bai Wusheng got closer, the Heavenly Demon's eyes were still hollow and calm.
"Remember, disciple of the Qinglian Sword Sect, this is not the end. The era of the Demon Sect will eventually come."
Crack—
The sound of a sword cutting through the air echoed across the quiet mountaintop.
The Heavenly Demon's head was severed with one strike, rolling to the ground along with the green light of the sword's swing.
Bai Wusheng stepped on the Heavenly Demon's head. The Heavenly Demon's eyes still remained calm.
The war was finally over.
Future generations would remember this war as a great victory of the Martial Alliance. But Bai Wusheng knew there was no real victory. In this war, on this mountain littered with corpses, no one truly won.
Bai Wusheng raised his sword and struck the ground. A flash of green light appeared, carving a few lines of text into the earth. The green light from the Qinglian sword dimmed, and Bai Wusheng, drained of his true energy, collapsed to the ground.
Death was now inevitable.
Bai Wusheng looked up at the sky.
Despite the blood that had been spilled, despite the many lives lost, the sky remained indifferent, as blue as ever.
What would happen to the Qinglian Sword Sect now?
Everyone who had come to Mount Tian to fight the Heavenly Demon had died, but no sect had suffered as much as the Qinglian Sword Sect. The sect, which had always prided itself on its spirit, had sent nearly all its disciples to this war. The first-generation disciples, led by Bai Wusheng, were all wiped out, and the second generation was buried on this mountain, leaving only the young third-generation disciples and a few elderly elders.
Did the blood spilled by the Qinglian Sword Sect here truly have meaning?
"I don't know, Master…"
Bai Wusheng's body slowly tilted as he collapsed onto the ground, his face stained with red blood, the azure robes he wore embroidered with a blooming lotus flower.
"I'm sorry, Big Brother."
"If I had tried harder during normal times, maybe the outcome would have been different…"
"If I had paid more attention to my junior brothers…"
Regret, sorrow, but it no longer mattered at this moment. Everything was in vain.
Lotus flowers always wither.
But when the water temperature rises, and sunlight filters through the surface, they can break through the mud and bloom into beautiful flowers once more.
"Qinglian…"
Bai Wusheng's consciousness faded.
Twenty-third generation disciple of the Qinglian Sword Sect,
Qinglian Sword Master Bai Wusheng,
Who cut off the Heavenly Demon's head here,
And now lies in eternal slumber.
These were his last words left to the world.