92: A hero's death, a bloody and tearful farewell

Above the firmament, the golden rainbow, burning with the Grand Elder's Life Qi, had dimmed to its extreme.

It could extinguish at any moment.

An ancient, weary, yet utterly resolute will, like the final thunderclap, boomed in Lin Gou's mind.

"Within three breaths!"

"Go!"

That was the only chance the Grand Elder had roared out for him, exhausting his last Divine Soul.

Three breaths.

Time was compressed into a blade hanging over everyone's neck.

Lin Gou's figure instantly vanished.

He did not rush towards the sky.

Instead, he appeared directly on the bloody plaza in front of the Pill Hall.

He landed in front of Zhao Linger.

The girl was still kneeling on the ground, her body rigid, her pair of bloodshot eyes fixed on him.

Her tears had dried, leaving only a pale face and silent despair.

Lin Gou did not speak.

He merely reached out and grasped Zhao Linger's cold little hand.

His touch was bone-chillingly cold, with a wet and sticky sensation.

It was blood.

Her hand was clenched too tightly; her sharp fingernails had long since deeply pierced her palm.

Crimson blood continuously seeped through her fingers, drop by drop, falling onto the blood-stained dust.

She seemed to feel no pain, only maintaining this self-mutilating posture with all her strength.

Lin Gou's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He did not pry it open roughly.

Instead, he covered her hand with his other hand, and with an irresistible yet incredibly gentle force, he slowly straightened her curled fingers, one by one.

This process was suffocatingly slow.

Zhao Linger's body trembled violently, like a fallen leaf about to be torn apart in a gale.

She wanted to resist, to clench her hand again, to hold onto something in this way.

But under his warm and firm palm, all her strength vanished like a floodgate opening.

Finally, that small hand, stained with blood and dirt, was completely spread open.

In her palm were four crescent-shaped wounds, deep enough to expose bone and flesh, a bloody mess.

Lin Gou's expression remained unchanged, as if he hadn't seen the terrifying wounds; he merely took out an ancient-looking Storage Ring from his embrace.

He gently placed the Ring in her bloody palm.

The cold Ring body touching her warm flesh made Zhao Linger's body tremble violently.

"Inside here is all my savings."

Lin Gou's voice was very low, very calm, like the most ordinary entrustment between friends.

"There are Medicinal Pills, Spirit Stones, and some miscellaneous Magic Treasures."

"Use them to save people."

He paused, gazing deeply into her empty eyes, his voice dropping even lower, with an almost commanding tone.

"Also use them to protect yourself."

Zhao Linger's lips trembled violently, and she could only emit an inarticulate "ho ho" sound from her throat, unable to utter a complete word.

She could only stare at him intently.

Using all her will, she etched the face of the man before her—his brows, his eyes, the curve of his lips when he spoke—deep into her Soul.

As if by doing so, she could keep him.

Lin Gou took one last deep look at her, then slowly released his hand.

He didn't say another word.

Turning around.

He walked towards another solitary figure, also waiting for him.

Li Hanyue.

She stood not far away, white robes stained with Devilish Qi, her long sword still sheathed, her entire being like an peerless famous sword planted on the battlefield.

Cold, sharp, exuding a chill that warned others to stay away.

She did not cry, nor did she break down.

But her tightly pursed, bloodless lips, and the hand resting on her sword hilt, veins bulging from the force, revealed the raging storm within her heart.

Lin Gou walked to her front.

They stood three feet apart.

"Your sword is fast."

Lin Gou spoke, saying something seemingly unrelated to the current situation.

Li Hanyue did not respond, only staring at him unblinkingly with eyes sharper than a sword's edge.

Lin Gou paid no mind to her coldness.

He suddenly raised his right hand and flicked a finger.

A faint, almost invisible spiritual light shot out from his fingertip, extremely fast, instantly merging into Li Hanyue's glabella.

Li Hanyue's body trembled violently.

That was not an attack.

It was a torrent of information.

A pure Law's true meaning, imbued with the aura of destruction and rebirth.

【Demon Slaying】!

It was the most precious Law fragment Lin Gou had obtained from the System's rewards!

In an instant, Li Hanyue's world changed.

The surging Devilish Qi before her was no longer a chaotic mass, but composed of countless slender black threads.

The paths of Devilish Qi circulation within those demonized fellow Disciples, the weak points of their energy cores, all appeared in her mind with unprecedented clarity!

This transcended swordsmanship, transcended Moves.

This was a guidance of the "Dao"!

It was a supreme insight capable of elevating her already exceptional Sword Dao to an entirely new level!

She abruptly closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, in those cold eyes, besides the original steadfastness, an indescribable shock and enlightenment had been added.

She knew what this "insight" meant.

It was a glimpse of the world's Origin that one could only perceive at the moment of true "death".

He had unhesitatingly bestowed upon her something he had exchanged with his life.

"After this battle."

Li Hanyue finally spoke, her voice still cold, but carrying the weight of a mountain, every word like an oath carved into metal with a sword's edge.

"I will guard the Sect for you for a hundred years."

She did not say, "Wait for you to return."

Because in her opinion, he could no longer return.

All she could do was use her sword to complete his unfinished guardianship, to carry on the legacy he entrusted.

This was a Sword Cultivator's promise, the heaviest and most resolute.

Lin Gou smiled, saying nothing more.

The entrustment was complete.

Time was up.

He no longer looked back.

He no longer looked at the girl kneeling on the ground, as if her Soul had been extracted.

Nor did he look at the woman who had sworn an oath with her sword, destined to repay this gift with her entire life.

He suddenly looked up, gazing at the world-destroying demonic hand slowly pressing down from the firmament.

The next moment.

His body transformed into an utterly resolute stream of light, soaring into the sky!

Without the slightest hesitation.

Without a shred of reluctance.

Like a moth, actively rushing towards the raging fire capable of incinerating all things in the world.

This scene was clearly reflected in the eyes of every surviving Disciple within the Qingyun Sect.

They stared up blankly.

Watching their Saint, whom they had just revered as a god and regarded as their last hope, actively embrace death in the most tragic and incomprehensible way, while everyone else was thinking of how to escape.

What a tragic sight.

And what despair.

"Jie jie jie..."

"Another bug actively seeking death!"

That mocking and cruel Divine Thought from the Nine Netherworlds once again echoed between heaven and earth.

The Demon Lord seemed to feel a hint of surprise and amusement at the ant's action.

The heaven-supporting demonic hand, its palm filled with an impossibly dense Devilish Qi, suddenly formed a giant vortex, like the abyss opening its greedy maw.

It didn't even bother to crush this bug.

Instead, it chose the most contemptuous method.

Devour.

Under the gaze of tens of thousands of desperate, disbelieving eyes from the entire Sect.

The stream of light that Lin Gou had transformed into caused no ripples, stirred no resistance, and simply plunged headfirst into the vortex of Devilish Qi.

Then.

Completely vanished.

Like a drop of water merging into a sea of ink.

Silently.

Time, at this moment, completely froze.

Heaven and earth seemed to have been muted.

The wind stopped.

The sounds of battle stopped.

Even the ubiquitous, nauseating Devilish Qi seemed to have solidified.

Everyone's hope.

Everyone's light.

At this moment, was completely crushed and devoured by the boundless darkness.

On the plaza.

The last light in Zhao Linger's eyes, which had been fixed on the sky, completely extinguished.

The figure she had etched into her Soul had disappeared.

The last string supporting all her will and courage also snapped.

Her body, like a rag doll from which all bones had been removed, softly fell backward.

She fainted on the spot.

Not far away.

Li Hanyue remained standing, like an ice sculpture.

A clear tear, without warning, slowly slid down from her cold and resolute eye corner.

The tear traced a bright and dazzling path across the already dry, pitch-black demonic blood on her cheek.

"Ding."

The tear drop fell onto the blade of the spiritual sword she had always carried, which had never left her side.

Emitting an incredibly faint, yet clear and heart-shattering crisp sound.

Like the sound of a shattered sword heart.