This was the first statue erected in his honor, and it was the most grand and solemn of them all.
In the past, looking at such a likeness of "himself," Xie Lian accepted it calmly, not feeling anything amiss, but at this moment, he found this giant statue, shining brightly in gold, utterly unfamiliar, and couldn't help but think, "Is this really me?"
Over there, Feng Xin and Mu Qing were separately checking if there were any trapped individuals yet to be found. The trace of confusion in Xie Lian's heart flickered and passed; seeing the crowd gradually calming down, he let out a breath.
But he hadn't fully exhaled when he suddenly felt a pressure on him, making his heart tense immediately.
That heavenly tower was too high, too heavy after all.
The statue seemed to feel the strain as well, its hands trembling slightly, its feet sinking into the ground, the towering golden body bending down a little, though the smile on its face remained unchanged. Upon seeing this, Xie Lian immediately invoked another spell. Yet, as the spell was cast, his heart went cold; not only did the golden statue not rise, it even bent a little further, seemingly unable to hold it any longer.
Xie Lian's hands also began to tremble. He had never felt this kind of sensation before. In his understanding, if he attacked a mountain, that mountain should fall at his voice; if he stomped his foot, the places he intended to quake would move and tremble. What he had never felt until now, was something called "powerlessness."
In utter necessity, Xie Lian gritted his teeth, flew upwards, and sat at the foot of that massive golden statue, raising his hand to summon the spell once more. This time, he took the field personally, and the statue indeed began to rise again, lifting its head fiercely, to support the leaning heavenly tower once more!
Although he had managed to hold it up again, Xie Lian's back and his heart were already drenched with cold sweat. Yet countless people inside and outside the Imperial Palace, unaware of his suffering, began worshiping this miraculous golden statue one after another, shouting, "In a time of national peril, the Crown Prince has revealed his spirit!"
“Your Highness, please save us!”
“Save the people! Protect the world!”
Xie Lian gritted his teeth and tried to persuade them, "Please everyone, stand up, move back, and stay away from here, I..." At this point, he found that his voice was actually lacking strength. His words were drowned in the roaring waves of shouting; the more he wanted to amplify, the more he realized his smallness.
Xie Lian took a deep breath, preparing to shout aloud, when suddenly a hand grabbed his ankle. He glanced down to see it was Qi Rong, hurriedly saying, "Qi Rong, quickly go down and tell everyone not to gather here, be careful of it collapsing!"
These words slipped out without thought, and once he realized what he had said, Xie Lian was suddenly seized with a deep chill.
In the past, not to mention saying such words, not even the slightest hint of such thoughts would have occurred to him. Even if the sky was truly falling, he believed he would definitely hold it up. But now, he discovered a terrifying truth: he didn't believe it anymore.
Not only did others not believe in him, even he dared not believe in himself now!
Qi Rong, however, said offhandedly, "How could it collapse? Aren't you holding it up?"
At those words, Xie Lian's heart twitched once more. Qi Rong, however, didn't notice his slightly greenish face, eyes gleaming as he said, "Cousin, let me help you."
Xie Lian was taken aback, "You help me? How?"
Qi Rong didn't hesitate, "Didn't you say you know how to create the human-face plague? Tell me how, I'll help you curse the people of Yong'an. I'll help you kill them!"
...He really had eavesdropped on all three of them from under the bed!
Xie Lian was so angry he felt weak: "You... you're simply messing around! Do you know what cursing means?"
Qi Rong paid it no mind and said, "Sure. It's just cursing, isn't it? Cousin, let me tell you, I have a talent in this area. I often curse my father, and I suspect he was cursed to death by me, you..."
"..." Xie Lian couldn't bear to listen anymore, "Go away."
Qi Rong quickly said, “No! No! Fine, if you won't tell me how to curse, then at least tell me... how to avoid getting the human-face plague?”
Xie Lian’s heart sank, and Qi Rong continued, “You know, don’t you? You know why soldiers don’t get infected, don’t you? Cousin, tell me why, okay?”
There were still many palace attendants gathered nearby, and who knew how many ears were listening. Xie Lian was afraid that if word got out, it would cause chaos, so he kept silent. However, someone could not hold back anymore and asked, “Crown Prince! Is it true?”
“Do you really know how to cure the human-face plague?!”
“Then why not reveal it?”
Those eyes were emitting a green glow similar to Qi Rong's. Xie Lian shut his mouth tight, and through clenched teeth he managed to say, “No! I don’t know!”
The crowd stirred slightly but not much. At this moment, Feng Xin came back and, seeing Qi Rong at Xie Lian’s side from a distance, shouted, “What is he doing?”
Xie Lian immediately said, "Feng Xin, take him down!"
Feng Xin came at the call, but Qi Rong suddenly grabbed Xie Lian and fervently asked, “Cousin, you will definitely defeat and drive away the Yong’an people, won't you! You will protect us, you definitely will, right?”
A few months ago, Xie Lian might have still been filled with passion and loudly answered, "I will protect you all!" But now, he didn’t dare to. Qi Rong was exceedingly agitated, and Xie Lian looked at him, feeling confused. Because he knew very well that Qi Rong wasn’t one to worry about the country and its people. Even if the nation were on the brink of destruction, he should have been mostly afraid, so why such agitation? Suddenly, he recalled something. Qi Rong’s father seemed to be a Yong’an person as well.
Seeing his silence, Qi Rong's voice suddenly grew shrill, “Cousin Prince! You won’t really just leave things be, will you? Are we just to be openly ravaged and humiliated? Do we have no way at all?!”
Hearing his questions, Xie Lian felt a deep sadness. Because he realized that Qi Rong wasn't wrong—under such circumstances, he truly had... no way at all!
Feng Xin said, “I’ll go request the National Teacher to confine him again.”
Even as Qi Rong was being taken away by Feng Xin, he continued to struggle and shout, “You must hold it up. You mustn’t fall!”
Can’t fall!
Xie Lian also knew he couldn’t fall. Even if the nearby villagers have all evacuated, the heavenly tower still could not fall. If it did, not only would all the ancient relics of the Imperial Palace and the main artery of Divine Martial Street be destroyed, but many people's homes would be turned to ruins.
Furthermore, countless rare treasures and ancient scrolls from past generations were stored within the tower, too many to be moved quickly. If the heavenly tower fell, they would all be gone. Moreover, the lifeblood of the Divine Joy Kingdom’s royal capital, which the tower protected, would be entirely severed.
However, his spiritual power was drying up like the water sources of Yong'an. To support this giant golden statue, he could not leave the spot for the time being but had to leave the defense of the city to Feng Xin and Mu Qing, focusing his mind in meditation.
Because the five-zhang-tall golden statue originally sat in the Imperial Supreme Temple on Tai Cang Mountain, Xie Lian summoned it here. The original believers had no statue to worship, and they all flocked here, praying in the open area under the sun.
Although this was the Imperial Palace, where outsiders shouldn’t be entering, firstly, the earthquake had knocked down a section of the palace wall resulting in the inability to keep them out.
Secondly, the current situation in the Divine Joy Kingdom’s royal city was in chaos; there weren’t enough people to manage, and thirdly, fearing the resentment of the people and the escalation of violence, they had no choice but to let them in.
Xie Lian stationed himself there, and the National Preceptor and the Queen came to see him every day. Through muddled days, he persisted, supporting the heavenly tower with all his strength, while regaining strength to withdraw from the situation. The National Preceptor was not faring any better, his hair utterly white, despite being in the prime of his life, appearing as if he had aged considerably. When father and son met, they were speechless, yet harmony existed between them like never before.
The Queen, who had seen Xie Lian grow up since he was a child, had always seen her son as spiritual and celestial. Now, seeing him gritting his teeth under the sun, exposed to wind and rain, without letting anyone get too close to shield him, her heart was sore. She personally stood in the scorching sun, holding an umbrella to shade him. After a while, Xie Lian was afraid she would tire out, and said, “Mother, please return. I don’t need it. None of you should come near here either, and don’t have anyone come close, I’m afraid...”
What he was afraid of, in the end, he didn’t put into words. The Queen, with her back to the gathered believers, held back for a long time, but couldn’t stop the tears from flowing: “My child, you’ve suffered. You... why do you have to suffer so much?”
She applied heavy makeup to conceal her haggard look, but with tears washing down her face, the makeup melted, exposing more evidently that she was but a woman who was no longer young. Her heart ached for her son, she cried silently for him, yet she didn’t dare cry aloud, fearing being detected by the people behind her. The National Preceptor held her shoulder, and Xie Lian also gazed at her in a daze.
Whenever one suffers at any moment, the first person one thinks of is the one who loves him the most. For Xie Lian, this person was undoubtedly his mother. Perhaps it’s useless to say it, but after enduring days of torture bit by bit, at this moment, he wanted to turn back into a ten-year-old child and throw himself into his mother’s arms for a good cry.
However, until this day, every path chosen was his own decision. His parents were already in a difficult situation, and so many people were looking up to him. He could not show the slightest bit of vulnerability. If he couldn’t hold on, who could?
Therefore, Xie Lian said contrary to his heart, “Mother, don’t worry, I’m fine. Your child is not suffering at all.”
Whether it was suffering or not, only he would truly know.
After the Queen was supported by the attendants along with the National Preceptor, leaving step by step and looking back repeatedly, Xie Lian was once again exposed under the blazing sun, dozing off in a daze with his eyes half-closed. Who knew how long it was before he woke again to find that dusk had come, the sunset was shining down, and hardly any believers were left.
But when he lowered his head, he found that not too far from his side, a lone little flower lay.
Xie Lian wasn’t very sure when exactly there was a flower growing there, but he freed a hand to pick it up.
It was a very little flower. Snow white petals, clear green calyx, a slender stem, still dewy, almost like teardrops, in a pitiful state. The subtle scent was familiar, unobtrusive yet heartwarming.
He couldn’t help but hold the flower tightly, bringing it close to his heart.
Just then, a sudden scent of blood overshadowed the faint floral fragrance. When Xie Lian looked up, his eyes were filled with the sight of blossoming flowers, and a figure screamed at him, "Why! Why!!"
Startled, Xie Lian waved his sleeve to deflect the person, and he barely managed to gather himself, "Who’s there!”
The person was sent rolling several times on the ground. Xie Lian didn’t dare get up or approach, as he still needed to support the five-zhang-tall statue, but he could immediately tell who it was. The person had only one leg left—it was that young man who had given him an umbrella and then had his leg cut off by Xie Lian himself!
The young man was covered with blood, his hands stained with it, seeming to have crawled all the way using both hands and feet, leaving behind a horrifying trail of blood. He barely sat up, and Xie Lian said in shock, "You, how are you out? Weren’t you convalescing in the Wu You Forest?"
The young man did not answer but crawled forward using both hands and feet once again. With just one leg left, his appearance was terrifying. Xie Lian said, "You...!"
The young man suddenly lifted his remaining right leg's trouser leg, "Why!"
Upon taking a closer look, there was a distorted human face on his right leg!
One of Xie Lian’s greatest fears had materialized. If he hadn’t been seated, he might have fallen down. The young man was on the ground, slamming it while yelling, "Why did you cut off my leg! I still relapsed! My leg is gone! Why? Give me back my leg! Give me back my leg!"
He vividly remembered the warm smile on the young man’s face the day he had delivered the umbrella into his hands, and now seeing him in distress and frenzy created a jarring contrast. Xie Lian’s mind was a tangled mess, shaking, and trembling, he stammered, “I…”
It took him a while to gather himself, “I... I’ll help you!”
At once, we began conjuring spells to suppress the toxic miasma within the young man’s leg. However, nearby, cries and screams rang out, with three or four more people pouncing over, all shouting, "Your Highness, save me!" "Your Highness, save me!"
“Your Highness, look at my face, I’ve carved away half my face, but why hasn’t it healed, why? How exactly can I be cured?”
“Your Highness, look at me, look at what I’ve become!”
Bloodied images were thrust before him one after another, and Xie Lian's eyes streamed with tears, his hands flying about aimlessly as he murmured, “No, I will not look, I will not see!"
It turned out that after the group of human-face plague patients in the Wu You Forest had relapsed collectively, causing chaos, they managed to break through their guards and healers, all to come searching for him!
Since they had already escaped, if he didn’t quickly suppress their miasma, the spread of the human-face plague would only widen. Xie Lian shut his eyes and with great effort, conjured strength to help these few individuals suppress the miasma and relieve their pain temporarily. Yet just as he managed to press down one side, more people rushed over to him, crying, “Your Highness, and me! Help me too!”
Surrounded by over a dozen people, Xie Lian dimly felt that the statue overhead seemed to waver, anxiety rising in his heart, “Wait a moment, wait a moment! I…”
Someone couldn’t hold back anymore and said, “I can’t wait anymore, I’ve already waited too long!”
“Your Highness, why did you cure him and not me?”
Gradually, the voices around him changed:
“Why, when you cured him it went away, but it didn’t help me much? Aren’t you a god? Why are you so unfair? I demand fairness!”
Xie Lian argued, “No, I wasn’t being unfair, it’s not my fault, your conditions are different…”
“You might as well not help at all. If you’re going to help, help all the way; if you want to leave it, what does that mean? Can you just leave it?”
Xie Lian could barely breathe, “I’m not trying to leave it, I just… need time...”
“Do you know how to cure this disease?”
Xie Lian opened his mouth, “I…”
“If you know, then why won’t you tell us?!”
Xie Lian clenched his head, “I don’t know!”
“You’re lying! I heard people say you clearly know! I’ve seen through you. You refuse to tell us because you want to keep stringing us along to exploit our offerings! Swindler, you’re a cheat!”
“What’s the method, say it, you hurry up and say it!!!”
Xie Lian’s face was pale, his eyes vacant as countless hands pushed and shoved him, some even viciously seized his throat. And then, the most absurd thing happened. He was clearly a deity, but a tiny voice in his heart was feebly crying out, “…Help…”
It seemed someone was pulling these hands apart, yet also not. He wasn’t very clear, only knowing this mass of people with bloodied and missing limbs seemed to want to tear him apart and devour him amidst the chaos. It was heaven knows how long before distant cries like ghostly horns could be heard. Everyone was preoccupied drowning in their tears and cries, but Xie Lian was jerked awake at once. Because he recognized it—that was the sound of the victorious horn of Yong’an!
He could no longer sit idly by, nor could he hold on further. His body leaned forward, and he fell to his knees. At the very same moment, the five-zhang-tall golden body he had been painstakingly propping for days mimicked his movement, losing its life essence in an instant, and collapsed with a mighty crash.
With thundering roars, the towering and weighty heavenly tower crashed down, crumbling to smithereens with the statue!
In truth, the golden body would not shatter. However, because Xie Lian had poured too much spiritual power into it, hoping it could prop up the heavenly tower, it had long become extremely fragile. The escaped patients of the human-face plague from Wu You Forest were either running, perishing, or wounded. The palace, streets, and people were in utter chaos, evading falling debris from the heavenly tower or fleeing from the horrific plague victims. Xie Lian covered his head with his hands, stumbling through the chaos, heading straight for the gates of the royal city.
The city tower was ablaze, black smoke rolling high. Xie Lian ran up the tower platform, passing countless soldiers retreating in disarray. On the tower, he stood atop the platform with no inkling of what to do, staring down into the darkness beneath while black ash and unknown tear trails streamed down his face.
Through blurry vision, the battlefield was littered with corpses, but there stood a lone white figure, sleeves billowing in the wind. The figure was not a boy, but a young man, who upon turning, looked up from afar, waved back at him nonchalantly, seemingly about to disappear.
Seeing this, Xie Lian roared out, “Don’t go!!!”
The previous two encounters, he had worn a disguise, but Xie Lian’s intuition told him that this time, he was seeing the true form! Thus, without hesitation, he vaulted the city wall, launching himself off the city tower.
In his lifetime, Xie Lian had leaped from great heights countless times. Relying on his immense spiritual power and exceptional martial prowess, each time he landed safely, each time proud and at ease, each appearance akin to the godly descent of divine heroes in legendary tales. This time, however, he was no longer the god in that myth.
The moment he landed, he lost balance, toppling to the side. A surging stab of pain spread from his leg throughout his body.
He had broken his leg.
·
Actually, breaking a leg was nothing; it would heal quickly. Yet, from that day onwards, Xie Lian seemed to have become a different person.
It was as if he had lost his soul, with no longer that once awe-inspiring majesty. One defeat, then a second, a third… He didn’t want to wield his sword nor deploy formations, but with no one else to stand as a substitute for him, he could only muster the courage to face it. On the battlefield, he wasn’t lethargic or reluctant; he was genuinely giving it his all. However, for some reason, despite being around twenty by actual age, his hands gripping the sword had already begun to tremble like those of an elder on the brink of death.
Shaky, full of fear, and he couldn’t pinpoint what or who exactly he feared. Eventually, even the soldiers who once esteemed him with great respect gradually lost patience with him.
Xie Lian knew that among many, this sentiment began to circulate: What martial god is this—a god of calamity is more like it!
He couldn't counter those claims. Simply because, even Xie Lian himself wondered, had he really become a god of calamity?
If that was all, it would have been manageable. The true catalyst to the demise of the Divine Joy Kingdom was that the human-face plague finally spiraled completely out of control.
Five hundred, a thousand, two thousand, three thousand... In the end, Xie Lian didn’t dare ask how many more had been infected that day.
It seemed like the final verdict was being handed to him: that day, the Heavenly realm finally opened a door for him, conveying a message: Crown Prince, it's time to return to the Heavenly Court.
A journey back, awaiting him was sure to be something self-evidently ominous. Even Feng Xin and Mu Qing, with great difficulty, displayed hints of unease. Xie Lian, however, had something else in mind. He told the two, "Before leaving, there’s somewhere I want to visit."
Feng Xin asked, “Where?”
Xie Lian said, “Huang Ji Temple.”
After a moment of silence, Feng Xin said, “You shouldn’t.”
Xie Lian had already started walking outside by then, and Feng Xin called after him, “Your Highness!” Unable to stop him, both he and Mu Qing followed.
The three trekked uphill on foot.
Huang Ji Temple, this was where Xie Lian's first temple was erected, where the first statue of his image was established. However, at the National Teacher's insistence, the three thousand disciples had long been dispersed, and now it was nothing more than an empty temple.
Climbing halfway up the mountain, Xie Lian looked down. All around the royal city, bright flames could be seen in clusters, reflected under the starlit sky, quite picturesque. Feng Xin, however, was livid with rage and cursed, “This throng of madmen!”
Xie Lian stared steadily at the burning fires, and Feng Xin resentfully told him, “Don’t look! What’s worth seeing?!”
Over recent days, Feng Xin had scolded Xie Lian countless times: Did he just enjoy asking to suffer, or what? But in truth, Xie Lian himself didn’t know what he wanted either. He only knew that whenever one of his temples was burned or destroyed, he just couldn’t help but personally go and take a look. And after watching, he remained silent and did nothing to stop it, only standing there. What was there to see? He didn’t know either.
At that moment, a firelight at Crown Prince Peak also began to glow. Feng Xin was utterly thrilled, “How can they not even spare Huang Ji Temple?! Did someone dig up their ancestral graves or…”
Before he could finish, he halted his words abruptly. Because he realized that the pain and agony suffered by so many in the Divine Joy Kingdom was even worse than parodic talks of “ancestral grave desecration.”
However, this fire wasn’t big, and after a while, it seemed to be extinguished by someone. Feng Xin was surprised. Because in these days, there were plenty of people brave enough to start a fire, yet none dared to put one out. Should anyone try to stop or prevent those wicked and malicious people from burning and smashing his temple, they would be treated alike “god of calamity” Xie Lian and beaten to death. For this reason, the trio dared not reveal themselves as deities before mortals anymore, keeping themselves hidden.
All the way up the mountain, they could hear the sounds of fighting and brawling. When they reached Crown Prince Peak, sure enough, Divine Joy Palace was already smashed to ruin.
Only the frame of the main hall and four walls remained intact, and the grand altar within had long since been bereft of the statue, replaced by odd assortments of people fighting fiercely in front of the broken hall doors, shouting as they battled, “You dog bastard!
Dead child!
Why are you protecting this sorry temple as if you broke your wife’s virginity here? Is this broken temple your life?”
At one glance, Xie Lian knew these people weren’t here with righteous indignation, but only a group of lawless vagrants, or some who were there to loot while the world was in chaos, or simply for fun by burning temples. However, by now, he cared less and less about who these people destroying his temples really were. At that moment, amidst this flurry of blows, a youth's ferocious voice pierced through the night sky, “Get out!!!”
Hearing carefully, it was actually one individual fighting against these many. Moreover, this one was a teenager not more than ten years of age, yet utterly ruthless, showing no sign of backing down. Nonetheless, this individual alone facing the many, the youth was bloodstained, with bruises and gashes all over the face, features unclear. Feng Xin said, “This boy, he’ll grow to be quite the man!”
At this moment, a certain brute with a shrewd gleam in his eye moved to crush a large rock over the boy’s head from behind. Upon seeing it, Xie Lian waved his hand, and the rock reflected back to hit the assailant’s face, causing him to scream with a blood-drenched nose. The youth paused to gaze back, proceeding to strike mercilessly again. With a fighting stance that was utterly terrifying, even to the point of backing off and scaring off adults, as they fled while pointing fingers at him, blustering, “Wait till I bring more to settle you!”
The youth laughed coldly, “Come if you dare, and I’ll have your mangy lives!”
So shaken were the people that they fled even faster. After cursing their existence, the youth dashed to where the extinguished fire heap was, stamping it firmly, squelching the last sneeze of life out of every ember. Only then did he go into the hall to carefully pick up a piece of paper, smoothing it out with utmost care, and hanging it in the air. At last, he leaned on the altar listlessly.
Xie Lian drew nearer, gently hoisting himself onto the altar, discovering it to be a painting that the youth had hung. The strokes were fledgling, amateurish, clearly drawn by someone uninstructed, yet each line meticulously rendered to depict a portrait of the Crown Prince. It surely served as a substitute for the statue he had summoned away. Feng Xin remarked, “It’s well done!”
It had been many days since Feng Xin had seen anyone still upholding Xie Lian, just now he felt so moved he nearly joined in the fight. Seeing this youth naturally made everything look better to him. Meanwhile, Mu Qing lowered his gaze, something stirring in his eyes, but he stayed silent. Xie Lian reached out to touch the painting lightly.
It was not very noticeable, more akin to a light breeze passing by. Yet the young man lifted his head from between his knees abruptly, his badly scarred face suddenly lit up, “Is that you?”
Feng Xin exclaimed, “How sharp this kid is!”
Mu Qing said, "Let’s go."
Xie Lian nodded slightly, readying to turn away, but the youth leaped to the edge of the altar, breathing slightly erratic, "I know it’s you! Your Highness, don’t go, I have words for you!"
Upon hearing this, the three froze. The youth seemed extremely nervous, fist clutched, “Though your temples have been burned, but don’t be upset. I will create more, grander, more magnificent—and unrivaled temples for you in the future. None will surpass you. I will do it!”
“…”
The three stood in silence.
The youth was in tattered clothes, dirt-stained face, battered and bruised, yet he spoke with such determination and grandeur that it was truly laughable, a sentiment hard to decipher. Fearing his voice might not penetrate far enough, he cupped his mouth toward the altar and shouted at the painting, “Your Highness! Did you hear? In my heart, you’re a god! You are the only god, the true god! Did you hear?!”
He was so hoarsely earnest that the entirety of Tai Cang Mountain echoed with, “Did you hear!”
Xie Lian suddenly burst out laughing. The suddenness of his laughter startled both Feng Xin and Mu Qing. As Xie Lian laughed, he shook his head, and though the youth couldn’t hear, he sensed something, eyes bright and searching. Just then, a cold droplet of water fell onto the youth’s cheek. The youth opened his eyes abruptly, and for a moment, a snow-white reflection within them flashed brilliantly. In that blink of an eye, it vanished once he opened his eyes again.
Seeing Xie Lian had actually manifested for a moment, Feng Xin asked, “Your Highness, just now, you...”
Xie Lian was puzzled, “Just now? Oh, my spiritual power waned, I lost control for a moment.”
The youth stood straight, rubbed his eyes, trying hard to hold onto that fleeting image. But Xie Lian closed his eyes, and after some time, said, "Forget it."
Finally getting an answer, it was those three words, and the youth at first looked bright, lips widening, and then he paused, the arc of his mouth gradually falling, “...What? Forget what?”
Xie Lian sighed, “Forget it.”
The youth was dazed, saying nothing. Xie Lian continued, half-muttered to himself, "It doesn’t matter. Soon, no one will remember."
Hearing those words, the youth’s eyes widened, and suddenly, without a sound, a line of tears spilled from them, carving a pale path down his face coated in grime. The lump in his throat moved silently, “I…”
Feng Xin seemed somewhat unable to bear it, “Your Highness, no more. You’ll be punished forever otherwise.”
Xie Lian said, “Mm, no more. Though I’ve already crossed too many lines, a few more words wouldn’t matter.”
These words, however, he didn’t let the youth hear. The three disembarked from the altar, walking out toward the shattered great hall. The night breeze was biting, and Xie Lian shivered.
He still was a divine official, and under normal circumstances, shouldn’t have felt “cold.” But at this moment, he felt unequipped for the bone-chilling cold.
Who knew the youth left behind suddenly muttered in the large hall, “Never.”
Though he could not see Xie Lian and the others, he found the right direction nonetheless, chasing after with determination, “Never!”
The three turned back to see the youth, eyes intensely sharp in the dark, a face covered in scars, conveying anger, sadness, joy, or frenzy.
Amidst the tears, he said, “I will never forget.
“I will never forget you!!!”