371: Chapter 372 Spring in the Ashes

The first day after the war, New Homeland had no cheers, only silence.

It wasn't because they weren't happy about winning—of course they were happy, damn happy. One hundred and twenty main fleet ships, thirty Heavenly Sting Decapitation Ships, and fifty thousand Heavenly Soldiers were driven away. The image of the flagship fleeing while trailing black smoke was enough to brag about for ten lifetimes.

But no one bragged.

Because the price was too high.

The medical team's tents were busy from morning until night, with the wounded being sent in batch after batch. Mu Wanqing hadn't closed her eyes for three days and nights; her eyes were as red as a rabbit's, and her hands never stopped sewing, wrapping, and bandaging. On the open ground outside the tents, temporary stretchers were lined up, holding those still waiting.

Zhao Iron Pillar lay on one of those stretchers, his entire body wrapped in bandages like a mummy. He had originally insisted on not lying down, saying "I can still fight," but he collapsed after taking just three steps upon standing up and was forced back down by Little Li.

"Captain, if you move again, I'll tell Council Speaker Wen!"

"So what if you tell him? I'm his brother!"

"Even brothers have to follow doctor's orders!" Mu Wanqing's voice came from inside the tent, making Zhao Iron Pillar shiver and lie flat obediently.

At the edge of that charred forest to the east, a group of people stood silently.

Wen Youyi, Lin Jiang, Yun Zhi, Aila Xinghen - Deputy Captain, Little Girl, and a few elders who had survived the battlefield.

Before them was a dead silence of ashes.

The silver-blue forest was gone.

Those trees that used to move, those trees that used branches to point the way, those trees that used roots to support the wounded and canopies to block cannon fire—now only charred stumps remained.

When the wind blew, the ashes drifted up and landed on people like black snow.

"They..." Little Girl spoke, her voice a bit hoarse, "Does it really not hurt them?"

No one could answer.

Wen Youyi knelt down and pressed his hand against a charred stump. The stump still held some residual warmth, like charcoal that had just been extinguished.

"They protected us," he said. "Now it's our turn to protect them."

"How do we protect them?" Lin Jiang asked.

Wen Youyi looked at the ashes and was silent for a few seconds.

"Wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Wait for spring."

The second day after the war, the battle losses were tallied.

Wang Wu held his precious ledger and read it entry by entry, his voice getting lower and lower:

"Killed in action... three thousand seven hundred and twenty-one people."

"Seriously injured... two thousand eight hundred and forty-three people."

"Lightly injured... impossible to count; basically everyone is injured."

"Forest... completely destroyed."

"Farmland loss... about forty percent; the remainder is barely enough to eat for two months."

"Law Fields... all three are scrapped, their core energy completely exhausted."

After he finished reading, no one spoke in the meeting hall.

Three thousand seven hundred and twenty-one people.

That meant three thousand seven hundred and twenty-one families had lost fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters.

Blood Fiend Old Demon, Sword Maniac, and those unnamed Mortals, Cultivators, and Yao Race members would forever lie in this land they defended with their lives.

"Has the cemetery been chosen?" Wen Youyi asked.

"It's chosen, on the hillside to the east of the town," Wang Wu said. "It can see the direction of the forest."

"Good."

The third day after the war, the first funeral.

It wasn't collective, but scattered.

Each household chose their own date, dug their own pits, and erected their own tombstones.

Zhao Iron Pillar was carried by others, insisting on going to burn incense for Blood Fiend Old Demon. That Devil Head was usually very fierce and wouldn't yield to anyone, but in the end, he took a Star Lord down with him when he died; it was worth it.

"Old Devil Head," Zhao Iron Pillar said to the simple grave, "Don't be too arrogant over there. Senior Sword Maniac is there too; his sword is fast, you can't beat him."

The grave, of course, did not respond.

But the wind suddenly grew a bit stronger, as if someone were laughing.

Little Li whispered from the side, "Captain, if you say that, will Senior Blood Fiend come looking for you at night?"

"Let him come then," Zhao Iron Pillar glared. "I wasn't afraid of him when he was alive, so why should I be afraid now that he's dead?"

Even though he said that, he kept looking around on the way back, fearing that a bloody Devil Head would suddenly pop out from some shadow.

In front of Sword Maniac's grave stood a replica of his broken sword—the real sword had already shattered, and the fragments had been carefully collected by the soldiers and scattered on the land where he last fought.

The most people came to pay their respects here. Some had been saved by his Sword Intent, some had been inspired by seeing that sky-piercing sword light from afar, and some simply thought, 'That old man was really fierce.'

A young Cultivator knelt before the grave, kowtowed three times, and said:

"Senior, I will practice the sword from now on too. I'll practice until I'm like you, slaying the enemy with a single strike."

The wind blew gently, and the replica of the broken sword trembled slightly, as if nodding.

Over by the forest, there were no graves.

Because not a single intact tree could be found—they had all burned to ash and mixed together, making it impossible to tell which was which.

But Little Girl insisted on coming.

She held Bright Fur Ball and stood at the edge of the ashes, her eyes closed.

Bright Fur Ball's fur had regained some of its luster, no longer the limp clump of silver fur it was before. It crouched on Little Girl's shoulder, also closing its eyes in imitation of her.

"Are they there?" Wen Youyi walked over and asked softly.

Little Girl nodded.

"What are they saying?"

Little Girl was silent for a while, then opened her eyes, her rims red.

"They say it doesn't hurt."

Wen Youyi knelt down and took her into his arms.

"Yes, it doesn't hurt."

The fifth day after the war, the work of clearing the ruins began.

The area of the technology center that had been blasted by the flagship's main cannon had been mostly excavated. Most of the equipment was destroyed, with only a few items being lucky enough to be buried deep in the rubble and still barely usable.

Among them was that echo telescope.

It had been tightly protected by the roots of a tree; the roots were charred, but the telescope was intact. The dark green lenses were still deep, still able to capture the energy flow of the heavenly dao law layer.

Senior Brother Zhang saw it when he almost cried.

"It's still here," he touched the three-hundred-year-old device, his voice trembling. "It's still here!"

"Can it be repaired?" Wen Youyi asked.

"It can! It must be!" Senior Brother Zhang patted his chest. "As long as it's here, we'll be able to know when the Heavenly Court is coming next!"

Even though he said that, everyone knew that the Heavenly Court wouldn't be coming back in the short term.

Those three hundred and seventy-four seconds of hesitation were not just a turning point on the battlefield, but a rift torn open inside the Heavenly Court.

Three hundred and seventy-four middle and high-level members, before being discovered and formatted by the System, did one last thing—

They sent out the intelligence they possessed through the secret channel left by Cracked Eye.

Among that intelligence were the movement patterns of the main fleet, the coordinates of the Heavenly Sting Unit's training bases, and even the rotation schedule of the Law Hall's gatekeepers.

Cracked Eye was still there.

That seemingly closed eye was actually always watching.

The seventh day after the war, the first rain fell on New Homeland.

It wasn't ordinary rain, but the kind of silver-blue rain carrying memory energy—exactly the same as three months ago.

Everyone ran out of their houses and stood in the rain, tilting their heads back to let the rain wash over their faces.

"It's the memory aggregate!" Senior Brother Zhang shouted excitedly. "It's still here! It hasn't disappeared!"

The rain fell on the charred forest.

Those remaining tree roots suddenly moved.

It wasn't an illusion; they really moved.

Little Girl was the first to notice. She broke free from Madam Liu's hand, ran toward the ashes, knelt down, and pressed her hand against a stump.

Then she smiled.

"They're drinking water," she said.

Everyone looked at her.

"Once they drink water, they can grow back."

The fifteenth day after the war, the first sprout emerged from the ashes.

Silver-blue and tender, it was only the size of a fingernail.

Little Girl guarded it for three days, watering it every day, talking to it, and giving it a name—"Little Brighty."

Bright Fur Ball was very dissatisfied and pawed at Little Girl's trouser leg, meaning "I'm the bright one."

Little Girl thought about it and changed the name to "tiny brighty."

Bright Fur Ball was satisfied.

That sprout swayed gently in the sunlight, as if laughing.

The thirtieth day after the war, New Homeland held its first victory celebration.

It wasn't the grand kind where everyone sat together to eat, but scattered, small-scale ones held by each household.

Zhao Iron Pillar's blacksmith shop finally opened. He stood at the door leaning on a crutch, looking at the simple sign and grinning.

The sign read: "Iron Pillar's Repair Shop—Repairing weapons, mending pots and bowls, and selling roasted rainbow potatoes."

Little Li stood nearby holding a wooden sign with "Grand Opening: 20% off for three days" scrawled on it.

The first batch of customers were a few Mortal old ladies carrying broken pots. Zhao Iron Pillar limped over to take them, and after some hammering and clanging, he actually fixed them.

"Captain Zhao, your craftsmanship is quite good!" the old lady praised.

"Of course!" Zhao Iron Pillar was proud. "I used to do this back in the Ranch World! It was only after I followed Youyi to rebel that I changed professions!"

"Then will you still rebel in the future?"

Zhao Iron Pillar was stunned for a moment, looking at the distant forest, the newly emerged silver-blue sprouts, and then at the pots in the hands of the old ladies before him.

"What rebellion?" he said. "It's time to live our lives."

On the hillside to the east of the town, the newly established cemetery lay quietly.

Three thousand seven hundred and twenty-one graves, three thousand seven hundred and twenty-one tombstones.

Names were carved on the stones; some had them, some didn't. For those without names, "Unnamed Soldier," "Friend of the Forest," or "One Who Returned from the Battlefield" was carved.

Wen Youyi stood on the hillside, looking at the graves, at the town in the distance turning green again, and at the sprouts emerging from the ashes.

"What are you thinking about?" Yun Zhi walked over.

"I was wondering if they thought it was worth it."

Yun Zhi was silent for a few seconds and said, "Whether it was worth it isn't for us to decide."

"Then who decides?"

"It's the living," Yun Zhi looked at the busy figures in the distance. "It's how we live our lives from now on."

Wen Youyi thought about it and nodded.

"That makes sense."

He turned and walked down the hillside.

Behind him, the wind blew through the cemetery, over the new tombstones, and toward the forest that was growing once again in the distance.

Lin Jiang stood at the door of her small hut, looking at the Jade Slip in her hand.

The Jade Slip her mentor had left her had been read by her countless times. She could recite every word, but she still couldn't help taking it out to look.

"Xiao Jiang, if you can hear this, it means you've finally woken up."

"Live well, and see that day for us."

She looked up at the distant sky.

The sunlight that day was very good, warm and comfortable on her face.

"Master," she said softly, "I see it."

At the edge of the forest, Little Girl knelt next to the sprout named "tiny brighty" and watered it.

Bright Fur Ball crouched on her shoulder, staring alertly at the surroundings, fearing someone might step on it.

In the distance, Madam Liu's voice came: "Little Girl—come back for dinner—!"

"Coming—!"

Little Girl stood up, patted the dirt off her hands, picked up Bright Fur Ball, and ran toward home.

Behind her, the silver-blue sprout swayed gently in the sunlight.

As if someone were waving goodbye.

And as if saying:

"See you tomorrow."

(End of Chapter)