Within the ancient mirror.
A man in a blood robe held the Blood-colored Longsword as he walked through the vast desert.
His blood-red robe snapped loudly in the wind.
From afar, his solitary figure resembled a lingering blood-red sunset.
The wounded girl covered her bloody wound with one hand and chased after that blood-red figure without hesitation.
Everyone present was somewhat moved.
"To take such a ruthless, merciless sword strike and still pursue him for a thousand miles... Sky Heart Palace Master, you truly are... devoted," Ling Yayi sighed.
Ning Tao's expression did not change. She merely stared at the mirror. "She is her, and I am me."
Naturally, she was unwilling to accept that the girl in the ancient mirror was her reality.
The scene shifted again.
The delicate girl, with willow-leaf brows, found the man in the blood-red robe once more. She stared at him blankly and murmured softly, "Blood Bead..."
It was as though she desperately wanted to say something, yet could never force the words out. She could only softly call his name.
The man in the blood-red robe raised his head. His gaze was icy, devoid of all emotion. In his line of sight, there was no girl at all.
All he saw was air—a faceless, illusory figure.
"All is delusion. All is forgetting."
He drew his sword again, and a blood-red sword shadow flashed past.
This time, his sword seemed to carry even more force. The girl was cleaved in two at the waist.
Her face bore disbelief, tears already staining the corners of her eyes. "Blood Bead..."
Yet she could say nothing else. She could only call to him.
Seeing this scene, everyone's expressions turned complicated. Anger rose within them toward that blood-robed figure.
"This man is far too heartless!"
"Without feeling or