Destiny

"Cough, cough!"

Veins bulged on his forehead as Manor Master Yao coughed up blood. Gritting his teeth, he channeled his strength to strike the major acupoints around his chest in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but it was to no avail.

His robust heart hammered violently, only causing blood and fragments of his internal organs to spray out from the wound.

The body of an Internal Strengthening martial artist was too strong and resilient, which meant the bullet hadn't passed through; instead, it had shattered and spun inside, causing even greater trauma and shredding more of his internal organs.

"To actually... die under such a flying sword?!"

He collapsed to his knees. The ghostly green poisonous miasma returned to surround Manor Master Yao, drifting toward his wound in a futile, final effort.

Staring fixedly at the rapidly fading Manor Master Yao, An Jing finally eased the tension he had been holding. Given the Manor Master's strength and reflexes, if he had drawn the gun at the start, the cautious man would have definitely spotted the movement of the muzzle and avoided it, let alone been hit.

Although the Huaixu Realm lacked firearms, there were plenty of high-powered hand crossbows and hidden weapons. At most, they wouldn't recognize a firearm as a hidden weapon, but if a martial artist suspected you were carrying one, they could certainly dodge it.

Only by seizing that split second of relaxation when the opponent thought they had won could he succeed!

Seeing this scene, Bai Qinghan, who had intended to approach, also stopped in the distance, her gaze locked on the pistol in An Jing's hand.

At the final moment, the old man, whose face was already as pale as a corpse, lifted his head. With bloodshot, blurring eyes, he stared at the pistol in An Jing's hand: "What is this... a flying sword sword-case?!"

The Sword Spirit and Manor Master Yao had both repeatedly mistaken the firearm for a flying sword technique, making An Jing wonder if there really was some kind of sword-case similar to a firearm in the Huaixu Realm.

But now was not the time for idle talk. An Jing knew clearly that the current Manor Master Yao still had the capacity to resist.

He did not approach, but instead raised his hand and pulled the trigger again without hesitation.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang!

Ten more shots rang out. Manor Master Yao's pupils contracted rapidly. He let out a roar, forcibly gathering his remaining energy to drag his wounded body and dodge—even in this state, he actually managed to evade nine bullets. Only the last one hit him because his movement faltered due to his injuries. A massive spray of blood erupted from his shoulder, and he toppled to the side.

An Jing was secretly shocked, noting this down—sure enough, even when dying, an Internal Strengthening martial artist could still unleash one final burst of power!

But now, Manor Master Yao was truly going to die.

He used his last ounce of strength to look up at An Jing, his gaze filled with a mix of nostalgia, anger, relief, and hatred.

Perhaps he was recalling the moment many years ago when he saw a friend's corpse, perhaps he was pondering An Jing's future fate, perhaps he was a dying man wanting to offer some final warning, or perhaps he was lamenting that An Jing had chosen a path he himself had never taken.

But he could no longer say anything, nor was he worthy of saying anything more.

The moment after he looked up, this nameless, villainous old man tilted his head to the side and breathed his last.

At this very moment, the entire Xuanming Valley and the entire White Sand Plains were both clamorous and silent.

The Fear Demon in the distance had already been routed by the instructors, dissipating into devilish qi.

But the Demonic Cult had no time to rest, as a unit of Red Armor Guards had flanked them from the rear, sparking yet another battle.

The Children of Calamity who chose to stay were being led by several instructors toward the depths of the mountains. The Demonic Cult must have prepared an escape route long ago, but An Jing's turnaround and the surprise attack by the Red Armor Guards were so unexpected that only a small number of people could make use of it.

In the distance, Xuanming Manor was burning fiercely. The battle between the Red Armor Guards and the Demonic Cult guards had reached a fever pitch. For a time, the energy of blades and swords crisscrossed, spiritual flames and evil miasma intertwined, and loud war cries and the sounds of slaughter echoed throughout the entire manor and valley.

But on the White Sand Plains, only An Jing and Bai Qinghan remained.

Speechless, silent.

Although An Jing only had the chance to shoot and kill Manor Master Yao after stopping Bai Qinghan, in reality, if Bai Qinghan had wanted to, she had always had the opportunity to interfere with An Jing and help Manor Master Yao suppress him.

Yet she had not done so. Even now, she neither moved away nor approached; she simply watched An Jing quietly, just as she had when An Jing first sparred with her.

"Qinghan... huh?!"

Holding the dual pistols and breaking the silence, An Jing wanted to say something, but just then, he suddenly felt a wave of dizziness.

"This is... poison?!"

The world spun. An Jing gritted his teeth and took a slight step back, feeling an extreme sense of vertigo. He suddenly remembered the moment he had been covered by Manor Master Yao's Ghostly Poison Miasma earlier.

"Damn it, I forgot the old bastard's real title was 'Deputy Envoy of the Medicine Hall'!"

His perspective rotated and inverted.

Before his eyes, there was only a stretch of white sand and a flowing river.

Collapsing to the ground, An Jing smelled a faint medicinal scent. It was the concoction mixed into the Ghostly Poison Miasma—a blend of poisonous insects and herbs, the Manor Master's specialty.

If An Jing hadn't drawn his gun and had instead continued to tangle with Manor Master Yao for a while longer, he likely would have been defeated and taken away without the man breaking a sweat.

Not defeated by the enemy, but brought down by the potency of the medicine. Before his consciousness sank into chaos, An Jing saw a pair of plain white cloth shoes.

She approached slowly.

Then... his body was propped up.

A pair of hands pressed against his back. Cool spiritual energy flowed along his spine and Tianzhu acupoint, spreading upward and downward. It followed the circulation of his internal energy, bit by bit dispelling the medicinal power, gradually making An Jing's darkening vision bright and clear again.

This sensation was the exact opposite of An Jing's own internal breath—his own internal breath felt like flowing molten iron, while that cool energy was like drinking a bowl of water from a cold pool in the height of summer, refreshing and clear.

"...Why?" His voice was weak, and he muttered in confusion: "Didn't you want me to go with you?"

"If your heart isn't in it, then what use is there in taking you away?" Using the power of her Profound Yin Fate Grid to help An Jing circulate his internal energy and expel the poison, the young girl said calmly: "Since Xuanming Manor cannot stop you now, then in the future, Tianyi Mountain will not be able to stop you either."

"Go, Senior Brother."

Confirming that An Jing's condition was already recovering on its own, those hands pulled away: "You killed Manor Master Yao, and I was already weaker than you; it is only natural that I couldn't bring you back."

"Also, I think you were right."

"Two man-eating evil dragons; I shouldn't have chosen either one... It's just that I hate Da Chen too much."

"Senior Brother, I really, truly..."

"Hate it too much."

--I must make those high and mighty bastards pay the price.

Silence.

Only the sound of the flowing river remained, along with the sound of resolute footsteps fading into the distance.

"Thank you." At the very end, An Jing whispered softly, and he heard the departing footsteps pause for a moment: "I'm the one who should be thanking you."

"Thank you for teaching me how to read. Thank you for teaching me martial arts. Thank you for not killing me. Thank you for eating with me. Thank you for training with me. Thank you for never once thinking about eating me..."

"Thank you... thank you for believing in me and treating me like a friend."

When An Jing opened his eyes again, Bai Qinghan had already left the White Sand Plains.

--I'm sorry. Please tell Ye Qi and the others I'm sorry, too. He could vaguely hear the final words she had spoken.

The sounds of slaughter continued in the direction of Xuanming Manor; it was unlikely to end before nightfall.

After An Jing completely purged the medicinal power left behind by Manor Master Yao in his body and stood up, he found quite a few small items on the corpse of Manor Master Yao.

However, he was in no mood to identify the specific effects of these items at the moment, so he just shoved them haphazardly into his robes.

"An Jing, you did well!"

It was at this moment that he heard the Sword Spirit's excited voice: "You actually managed to save most of the people and held off the Demonic Cult, preventing anyone from coming over to disturb me!"

"I have now completely suppressed the remnant soul of the Heavenly Demon within the valley. You can enter it and obtain my second fragment at the Central Altar!"

"Alright, I'm going now."

An Jing replied, only to find that he wasn't as excited as he had imagined, and the Sword Spirit noticed this as well: "What? Your state of mind is fluctuating... more determined, yet carrying a trace of doubt?"

"But don't worry, the heart is like a Rusty Sword; it should be polished from time to time. If you don't mind, can you tell me what you are doubting?"

"Hmm..." An Jing pondered for a few breaths, then slowly said: "Fuxie, if it were your era, and you believed that the world was flawed, what would you do?"

"Kill."

Without the slightest hesitation, the Sword Spirit said as a matter of course: "If you believe the world is wrong, you must correct it—but there will always be those who believe this world is not wrong. They can profit from it and reign supreme within this world."

"They might not even be able to imagine what a 'correct' or 'better' path would look like."

"At that point, words are useless. You can only speak with the sword and force one side to shut up forever."

"Kill, only kill!"

The sword is always filled with murderous intent, for that is its innate mission, and that is its destiny.

"Is that so."

Hearing this, after a moment of silence, An Jing laughed with a sense of relief: "As expected, this..."

--My past wisdom, my morals, my personality, my talent... so that's how it is. It really is so.

All of these elements that guided me to make these choices, everything has merged together...

"This is my destiny."

Saying this, he turned around and strode toward the depths of Xuanming Valley, his gaze firm once more, firmer than ever before.

Behind An Jing, a crimson halo and totems flowed and spread, manifesting as blood-colored stars.

The radiance of destiny caused the youth's shadow to stretch in seven directions, sharp as a sword.

--Just as I wished.