156: Perfect ending

Shen Xiaochuan stood in place, his hand still gripping the hilt.

The zanpakuto and the Sword of the Evil God were plunged into the charred ground.

He did not move, nor did he speak.

Behind him, the hundred-meter-tall shadow of the Evil God was slowly fading.

The golden chains retreated from his body, as if withdrawing their final bit of strength.

The red shadow above his head also dimmed; Guan Yu's Divine Sense glanced at him, then vanished.

Fifteen hundred Believers surrounded the area, but no one dared to step forward.

They all looked up at the person in the center of the battlefield.

That strike just now had been too terrifying, and too powerful.

They had seen with their own eyes the demonic palm shatter, the Demon King pierced through the chest, and turn into ashes.

Now the enemy was gone; the meteorite remained, but it no longer emitted black mist.

A young Believer asked in a whisper: "Lord Shen, did we... win?"

No one answered.

A muffled thud suddenly came from the ground.

The black meteorite exploded from the center, cracks spreading rapidly with a continuous crunching sound like a cracking ice sheet.

A few seconds later, with a "boom," the entire stone shattered into fragments, dust rising into the sky before slowly settling.

A System notification appeared before his eyes:

[Main Quest "Suppress the Evil Abyss" completed]

[Obtained Aminos's Legacy qualification]

[Obtained Yang Lie's Origin Heart (stored in the Divine Kingdom space)]

Shen Xiaochuan looked down at his palm.

The Sword of the Evil God lay there quietly; the rust was still there, but the black Qi no longer thrashed about, instead coiling around the blade like an obedient snake.

He reached out to touch the edge, and his fingertips felt slightly warm—not murderous intent, but a response.

He finally let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping as if he had set down something very heavy.

"Are you all alive?" he turned to ask the people behind him.

The Believers were stunned for a moment, then began to cheer loudly.

Some jumped up and waved their weapons, some knelt on the ground laughing and slapping the earth, and others lit the faith torches in their hands, the lights flickering on one by one until they formed a sea of fire.

"We won!"

"Long live Lord Shen!"

"The evil spirits are annihilated! The Righteous Path will last forever!"

The voices carried far into the distance.

Shen Xiaochuan did not smile.

He pulled out the two blades and returned them to their scabbards.

Then he bent down to pick up a fragment of stone and placed it gently on the remnants of the broken meteorite, a tribute to those who had died.

Aminos walked over, his steps somewhat unsteady, his face weary.

He looked at Shen Xiaochuan, his voice hoarse: "Brother Shen, you really did it. I originally thought I would die on the path I insisted on."

Shen Xiaochuan glanced at him, his tone impatient: "Don't even mention it, you were just being stubborn back then. If I hadn't stopped you, you would have rushed in and thrown your life away long ago; would you still be standing here talking to me?"

Aminos gave a bitter smile: "I was indeed too foolish back then. I thought that as long as I didn't fall, I was protecting."

Shen Xiaochuan raised an eyebrow: "And what about now? Do you understand now?"

Aminos nodded, saying earnestly: "I understand. Protecting people's hearts is more important than protecting a city."

Shen Xiaochuan didn't say anything more and turned to walk toward the camp tents.

He knew this battle was over, but the matter was not finished.

He had to arrange for the aftermath, count the wounded, recover resources, and also deal with this Sword of the Evil God.

He ordered the sword to be placed into a specially made stone box, guarded by the Personal Guard, with no one allowed to open it privately.

He also sent people to set up a cordon to prevent the remaining evil Qi from spreading.

He sat at the table himself, reading the casualty list, crossing off one name after another, and remained silent for a long time.

Three days later, the communication array brought news: something had happened at the Royal City.

Using the excuses of "disobeying orders and engaging in unauthorized battle" and "privately activating a Demonic Weapon," the King declared Aminos a traitor, ordered his arrest, and commanded that he be taken to the execution ground to be beheaded within three days.

Shen Xiaochuan finished reading the note, his brows furrowed tightly.

He crumpled it forcefully in his hand and threw it fiercely into the brazier.

The flames flared up suddenly, illuminating his face with flickering light.

The Personal Guard stood at the door, hesitated for a moment, and asked in a low voice: "My Lord, are you... going to save him?"

Shen Xiaochuan stood up abruptly.

As he put on his dark blue work uniform, the copper gear pendant on his cuff clinked, and he said angrily: "What kind of nonsense is that! Without him blocking the way in front, could I have fought this battle with peace of mind? If he dies, I will never have peace of mind for the rest of my life!"

That same night, Shen Xiaochuan set out with three thousand elite Believers.

They avoided the main roads, bypassed the watchtowers, and headed straight for the Royal City's underground dungeon.

Before the operation, he said: "Break every door you see, slash every lock you find, and kill anyone who stands in your way."

They came fast and struck hard.

Most of the garrison were former subordinates, and upon recognizing that it was Shen Xiaochuan leading the team, they threw down their weapons and made way.

Someone even voluntarily opened the side door and whispered: "He is on the lowest level, locked to the Cold Ice Pillar."

When the iron door was blown open, Aminos looked up.

His clothes were torn, there was blood on his face, and his hands and feet were shackled with dark iron chains, pinning him against the stone pillar that emitted cold air.

Hearing the commotion, he managed to prop himself up.

"Why did you come?"

"What do you think?" Shen Xiaochuan walked over, drew his zanpakuto, and severed the iron chains with one stroke.

Aminos fell down, his knees hitting the floor, and he let out a muffled groan of pain.

"The King wants to kill you." Shen Xiaochuan helped him up, "The charges are disobeying the imperial edict, unauthorized battle, and colluding with a Demonic Weapon."

"Heh..." Aminos laughed, "I defended the city for thirty days, and in exchange, I got a blade."

"Say no more." Shen Xiaochuan interrupted him, "Let's go first, get out of here."

That night, the military camp mutinied.

Tens of thousands of soldiers gathered in the square, holding torches, shouting in unison: "Support Aminos as King! Support Aminos as King!"

The firelight illuminated half the sky.

The military supervisor sent by the old King tried to stop them, but was pushed to the ground as soon as he opened his mouth.

Someone burned the abdication edict on the spot, and a new flag was raised, bearing the totem of mountains and rivers.

Shen Xiaochuan stood at the edge of the platform, not going up.

Someone shouted: "Please, Lord Shen, come up on stage!"

He shook his head: "This battle wasn't for the sake of who becomes emperor, but so that the Righteous Path would not be extinguished. Who you choose is your own business."

The crowd fell silent for a moment, then shouted even louder.

Aminos stood on the high platform, looking at the countless faces below, and his eyes suddenly reddened.

He raised his hand, and the whole place immediately went quiet.

"From today on, I am no longer a wandering bandit, no longer a rebellious subject." His voice was not loud, but it carried far: "I am your King. But I am also your guardian general—as long as I am alive, I will not let anyone take away the peace of this land."

The crowd below erupted again.

Shen Xiaochuan silently retreated to a corner, watching all this, saying nothing.

The next morning, he gathered the three thousand Believers, preparing to leave.

"Are you not staying?" Aminos saw him off to outside the city gate.

"My battlefield is not here." Shen Xiaochuan shook his head, "The mission is complete, I have to go back and report."

"Then will you come back?"

"I don't know." He smiled, "Perhaps one day when you are besieged, you will look up and see me breaking in again."

Aminos also smiled and reached out his hand.

The two shook hands firmly.

"Take care."

"You too."

The team set out, passing through the spatial rift and returning to the ancient altar at the edge of the Myriad Races Battlefield.

The wind and sand blew by; the wilderness remained the same.

Standing in the center of the altar was the Evil Sheep Priest, his gray robe covered in dust, his figure withered and thin.

He kept his head bowed, as if asleep, or as if waiting for someone.

Until footsteps sounded.

He slowly raised his head.

Shen Xiaochuan walked in the lead, with the three thousand Believers lined up neatly behind him.

He stopped, took the stone box from his backpack, and placed it on the stone platform in the center of the altar.

"Mission accomplished," he said, "The Demon King has been annihilated, and the Seal of the Evil Abyss has been lifted."

The Evil Sheep Priest did not speak and walked over slowly.

He looked at the stone box, paused for a few seconds, and reached out to gently touch the surface of the box.

His fingers were trembling slightly.

"You... killed it?" His voice was dry, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time.

"It wanted to kill me." Shen Xiaochuan opened the stone box, "But I defeated it."

The Sword of the Evil God was exposed under the moonlight.

In an instant, the black Qi on the blade trembled slightly, and a ripple spread out.

At the same time, the Evil Sheep Priest's body jolted, his eyes suddenly widening.

He stared at the sword, his breathing quickening, his chest heaving.

Then, a tear slid from the corner of his eye, flowing down his wrinkled face.

He didn't wipe it, nor did he move; he just stared fixedly at the blade, his lips moving slightly, as if reciting a name he had forgotten.

Shen Xiaochuan noticed something was wrong.

He didn't speak, waiting quietly.

In the distance, the wind blew sand, making a rustling sound against the stones.

The Evil Sheep Priest raised his hand, trembling as he pointed to the Sword of the Evil God, and then pointed to his own heart.

"This aura..." he muttered, "How can it be... the same?"

Shen Xiaochuan frowned: "What is the same?"

The Evil Sheep Priest did not answer.

He closed his eyes, as if lost in memories, his expression changing.

A moment later, he opened his eyes abruptly and looked directly at Shen Xiaochuan.

"Have you... heard any voices?" he asked, "When using the sword, was there a voice calling your name?"

Shen Xiaochuan paused.

He had indeed heard it.

More than once.

It was a low voice, not a threat, nor a temptation, but rather like a... calling.

"Yes," he nodded, "but it didn't control me."

The Evil Sheep Priest took a deep breath, as if having made a decision.

He raised both hands, pressing them on the edge of the stone box, and began to chant an ancient phrase.

The pronunciation was stiff, the rhythm slow, and every word seemed squeezed out.

As the words rang out, the Sword of the Evil God vibrated gently, and the black Qi swirled, forming a small vortex.

Shen Xiaochuan felt the growth of the faith points within his body change—it was no longer increasing steadily, but fluctuating rapidly, as if interfered with by something.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

The Evil Sheep Priest did not answer and continued to chant.

Suddenly, the blade hummed, and a beam of black light shot into the sky.

The runes around the altar lit up, a formation appeared on the ground, and rings of light spread outward.

Shen Xiaochuan stepped back half a step, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

The three thousand Believers immediately formed a formation, their weapons drawn.

"Don't be nervous." The Evil Sheep Priest finally stopped, his voice weary, "I just... confirmed something."

"What thing?"

The old man looked at him, his eyes complex, as if seeing an acquaintance, yet also as if seeing fate.

"This sword..." he said in a low voice, "It has never recognized a master. It is waiting for... the one who returns."