At dawn the next morning, the first light broke through, and thin mist wreathed the Stone Pavilion atop the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's mountain.
Twenty-seven people stood inside the Stone Pavilion.
Not one of the clansmen who had left the Stone Pavilion the day before, hoping against hope to escape, had returned.
The moment they stepped out of the Stone Pavilion, they walked a road that led only to death.
Qian Renxue's gaze slowly swept over the twenty-seven trembling members of the Glazed Tile Sect before settling on Ning Fengzhi, whose back was stooped and face deathly pale.
"Not bad. Twenty-seven still remain."
"Ning Fengzhi, of those remaining, who lives and who dies is entirely up to you."
Ning Fengzhi shuddered violently, his white hair tossed into disarray by the morning breeze. Days of terror and torment had drained every last trace of vitality from him. He now resembled rotten wood, his eyes bloodshot, their depths filled with endless despair and regret.
He staggered two steps forward, his frail body on the verge of collapse. "Qian Renxue, every wrong was mine, Ning Fengzhi's, alone."
With those words, he raised a hand and took a sharp dagger from his Soul Tool.
Without the slightest hesitation, Ning Fengzhi gripped the dagger in reverse and pressed its sharp tip firmly against his heart.
"I am willing to atone with my death. I ask only that you show a little mercy."
He had already seen the situation for what it was. Today, the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Sect could not escape its doom.
Every calamity stemmed from the bitter fruit he himself had planted when he chose the wrong side all those years ago.
His sole remaining hope was to use his old life to pay for the sins of the entire Ning