Surviving the Aftermath

The elder's voice fell silent.

The square instantly became deathly quiet.

The three men whose names had been called were stunned at first, but an undisguisable flicker of fear flashed across their faces.

Going to the front lines meant nine chances of death out of ten. Who would not be afraid?

Yet when they met the Grand Elder's clouded eyes and felt the expectation and weight in his gaze—

The three exchanged looks, then ultimately sighed in unison.

They recalled the days when they had first entered Seven Kill Hall.

Back then, their cultivation had been meager, and their aptitude had been nothing remarkable.

It was the Grand Elder who, seeing that their character was passable, had looked after them often.

He had never been some lofty, untouchable sect elder. He was an elder who would patiently explain the obscure parts of cultivation techniques to them.

He would generously give them the pills he had kept in his own collection.

He would press handwritten notes on cultivation into their hands, reminding them to proceed step by step.

Not only had he guided them through bottlenecks in cultivation, he had often given them pills that strengthened their foundations and replenished their essence, along with cultivation insights.

Though they and the Grand Elder had never held the title of master and disciple, they had long since formed the bond of half-master and half-disciple.

It was precisely through this care that they had broken through their bottlenecks step by step and ultimately joined the ranks of Universe Realm martial artists.

Enough. Enough.

If death comes, then so be it. We cannot forget the kindness of one who recognized our worth...

The last trace of hesitation in their eyes was replaced by resolve. Their fear faded, and righteous determination filled their faces.

Together, they