This battle had nothing to do with right or wrong. It was only about standpoints—victory to the king, defeat to the vanquished.
Ning Zheng took a deep breath, accepting the power of the entire world.
In theory, the great battle had already ended here.
But if.
Ning Zheng turned his gaze toward the painter, Xin Xichen, and Jiusui beside him.
As if guessing what Ning Zheng wanted to say, Xin Xichen said softly, "There's no need for the few of us to keep fighting. It's not as if I can't accept defeat. If we suddenly turned against each other like this, it would be too ugly."
He folded his arms and revealed a trace of pride. "Even the Sacred Spirit isn't the type to fuss and dither, so how could I be that kind of person?"
Ning Zheng nodded.
Xin Xichen was proud. His first reaction earlier had been to help Ning Zheng and give up competing for his own Great Dao. Indeed, he had done so to repay a debt of gratitude.
Jiusui beside him smiled. "Congratulations."
His smile came from the heart as well, carefree beyond expectation.
He could finally bring everything to an end. From now on, he no longer needed to fight for anything.
The painter said nothing. As he watched everyone, he continuously waved his brush, took out a scroll, quietly recorded everything, and then handed it to the people present. "We won. We should keep a record to commemorate it and record history. Everyone gets a copy."
Soon, everyone received a commemorative mural of history.
On the murals, their Great Daos swirled around them. With every gesture, they struck out magnificent nebulae, creating countless eras. Heroes as numerous as grains of sand emerged, staring dumbfounded at the battle between the Esteemed Immortals.
Then the