Flowing Wave Mountain.
Rain slid down Ye Xuan's fingertips.
Not a speck of dust clung to them.
His white robes snapped in the wind and rain. An invisible barrier seemed to surround him, keeping the violent raindrops at bay.
Watching Zhang Xiaofan brace himself against a rock and retch, Ye Xuan didn't urge him on.
The first time you killed someone,
it took time to come to terms with it.
Back when he'd first gone down the mountain to gain experience...
Forget it.
A hero didn't boast of past glories.
Ye Xuan looked up at the distant, pitch-black sea.
Flowing Wave Mountain.
The Demonic Sect had gathered here, and the righteous factions had come to surround them.
On the surface, this looked like a battle between good and evil. In truth, it was a contest of wits and power between the various factions.
The danger involved was far greater than the original story had made it seem.
Getting Zhang Xiaofan accustomed to it early was definitely a good thing.
"Seventh, S-Seventh Senior Brother..."
Zhang Xiaofan finally retched until there was nothing left in his stomach. His face was pale as paper.
He staggered upright, his eyes darting away. He didn't dare look at the corpse he had made with his own hands.
"Finished?"
Ye Xuan turned his gaze back, his tone calm.
There was no scolding, and no excessive comfort.
At a time like this, too much comfort would only serve as a reminder.
"Y-Yes, I'm finished."
Zhang Xiaofan nodded, his voice hoarse.
"Then let's go."
Ye Xuan turned and lightly touched the ground with his toe, gliding ahead like a feather.
"Master and Mistress are probably getting worried."
At the words "Master and Mistress,"
Zhang Xiaofan's unfocused eyes suddenly contracted.
That was his home.
Great Bamboo Peak.
It was