Chapter 449: Chapter 449
449: Chapter 445: Evil Collapses Like an Avalanche 449: Chapter 445: Evil Collapses Like an Avalanche Yun Rong slowly opened those weary, profound eyes, glancing at the figure pierced by a spear on the Snow Sword tablet, her beautiful brow dimmer than usual with a hint of elegance.
She shook her head slowly, looking at the demon before her with such a rare good-looking facade in the Mortal World, but his twin eyes were dust-free and clear, devoid of any resentment.
“Doing good is like ascending, doing evil like collapsing, Arao…
it’s not too late to turn back now.”
“Not too late?” Arao’s voice drifted, like a kite with its string cut, “The multitude betrays me, the gods do not ferry me, so what right do you have to tell me to turn back?”
She lifted her pale, frail hands, the fresh blood on her fingertips could be washed clean, yet the countless souls that had died at these hands would not rest so easily.
“I’ve killed countless people, slain countless gods.
I’ve completely severed my own path of retreat.
And you advise me towards kindness?”
Arao chuckled lowly, then lifted Yun Rong’s chin with her hand, her eyes emitting a cold light, and her voice suddenly turned bitterly cold, “Do you dare say your Fourth Sword has lived this life without any guilt, clear and pure?!”
Yun Rong froze, seeing the unrestrainable hate in her eyes, and furrowed her brow, sensing something strangely nuanced in her current condition.
She questioned her if she was without guilt…
Then when did she believe that she had done things worthy of such guilt?
Yun Rong couldn’t figure this out for the moment and was about to speak when Arao, with a look of disgust, shook off her head, coldly saying,
“Those with hearts are burdened, those without hearts care for naught.
Today, you are ready to die with composure here, not because there is someone you care about in this land of despair, but merely because the word ‘duty’ binds you.
You seek nothing unwarranted, recall nothing of the past, clutter not the present, worry not about the future, thus you will never understand the taste of losing someone you love forever.”
“Even if I kill him in front of you, you wouldn’t shed a tear for him.”
“That is the strength of Sword Heart Clarity, so you think turning back is a very simple thing.
But let me tell you, Yun Rong, a cup of water spilled on the ground, soiled by the earth, can never come back clean.”
She slowly stood up, looking down at her from a heightened position, “You will regret the pride you held onto today.”
Yun Rong fell silent for a long time, not countering Arao’s words, and after a long while, she quietly said, “Thriving and withering together, companions in life.”
Her eyes earnestly clear: “He and I.”
Arao’s eyes slowly narrowed dangerously like a python lurking in the forest, brimming with murderous intent!
With her fingertips still dripping fresh blood, she gently moved them.
The next moment, her entire hand burst into a bloodlight deep into Yun Rong’s body, blood splattering everywhere, her hand closing like a peerless blade, effortlessly piercing through Yun Rong’s chest.
She bent her body slightly, her lips, tinged with a few drops of blood making her appear alluring, pressed against Yun Rong’s ear, whispering the words of death, “Then I’ll let him watch you die.”
Yun Rong’s eyelids drooped, continuously leaking blood from her lips, her clear, lucid eyes instantly shrouded with a layer of deathliness, as Arao mercilessly withdrew her hand, Yun Rong’s body slumped, falling into a pool of blood.
As death approached, she did not look at the closely kept sword lying in the cold and lingering snow, but instead took one more long look at him, then slowly closed her eyes.
Arao, wiping the fresh blood on her hands, scoffed coldly, “She’s dead, Sect Master behaved so calmly, and here I thought you would lose your composure and berate me.
Truly, like a reclusive immortal couple, parting by life and death is just as light as water, which inevitably makes one feel desolate at heart.”
The sky frosty white, the wind chilling, snowflakes as large as hands filling the air.
He looked up at this star-exhausted gray sky, and calmly closed his eyes saying, “You’re very noisy, can you let me have some peace for a moment.”
Arao, not seeing the anticipated hysteria, felt somewhat bored and scoffed coldly, deliberately leaving him alone on the mountain to watch Yun Rong’s life ebb away before his powerless eyes.
War ends, and there is always a victorious side to savor the fruits of victory.
She led the Demon Clan to the Sin Sword Pool within the Tianxi Sword.
Overnight, countless Tianxi Spirit Swords that had existed for thousands of years were destroyed, and the Evil Ghosts and Demons suppressed under the swords re-emerged in the Mortal World, all bowing before her alone.
After tidying up the battlefield several times, she came to the temple where the ancestral tablets of the past Sect Masters were worshipped.
The spirit tablet of her master’s father, Baili Yu, was among them.
Baili Yu’s death was purely accidental, but back then, everyone in the Xijian Sect believed it was because of her, thus, this temple was a place of taboo solely for her.
Back then, she had no intention of worshipping the human ancestors of the Sword Dao, but being young and naïve, she was set up by jealous Disciples within the sect who lured her here, and was discovered by the punishing elder.
Furious, the elder tied her to the Immortal Stone Platform and beat her with rods for three days.
Her Sect Master, aware of this, still chose to ignore it and did not intervene.
Now, revisiting this site, the once taboo place for her alone was burned down by her completely.
There wasn’t the formidable elder daring to come forward to punish.
If she wanted to set a fire, those righteous disciples who once despised her, now for their survival, even willingly stripped to make torches, eagerly came forward to please her.
She had even wanted to push down the chair belonging to the Sword Master in the main hall.
But when her hand touched the chair, she inexplicably hesitated and then gave up.
After dismissing the Demon Clan members who were respectfully kneeling in a row below the main hall, she curled up alone on that chair, watching the candle lit by who knows which young disciple of the Xijian Sect in the hall, and just started daydreaming.
Revisiting the old place, vengeance fulfilled.
Yet, why does this body still feel so hollow and cold?
Carrying this hollow coldness, she gradually fell asleep on the chair.
She didn’t know how long she had slept, but when she awoke, the long candle in the hall had already burned out, leaving the hall pitch black.
Only tiny glimmers, from fireflies that must have flown from some mountain, shone in the darkness, casting a weak, self-defeating light on the cold desolation in her dark eyes.
The disciples of the Xijian Sect had long been extinct, but the fireflies in the mountains had not.
For some reason, Arao felt the hollow in her heart was slightly filled by these tiny lights.
She thought for a moment.
Tonight, she had already made him taste enough bitterness, outside in the great cold and snowy monument, Yun Rong must have become a frozen corpse already.
He must be hating her intensely now, just as in the Demon Suppressing Tower when she first learned the true cause of her mother’s death, filled with utter despair.
She was quite looking forward to seeing what kind of amusing expression the Sect Master, pinned to the sword tablet, had at this moment.
From the wine cellar, she took a jug of Floating Jade White, her favorite drink on regular days.
As she returned to the mountain gate, seeing the scene before her, her grip loosened, letting the century-brewed fine wine fall to the ground, shattering with a crash, the crisp fragrance of the liquor, as pungent as blood, intoxicatingly thick.
Her vision blurred momentarily, and she felt drained as if whirling through the sky.
The blood-stained sword tablet, the Demon Spear still sturdily planted there, yet the person on the tablet had long disappeared.
The golden-red spear, coated with fresh red blood which had frozen into crystals in the chilly wind, adorned with bits of snow, unable to express its desolation.
The snow cloaked the lingering red footprints, dragging towards that pool of blood where she had fallen.