Night fell like a thick wash of ink pouring down from the mountaintop, shrouding the entire back mountain of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.
The wind carried the scent of grass and trees from afar, sweeping past Ning Xiaochun's robes and making them snap in the breeze.
He had stood there for a long time, his gaze fixed on the direction where the last trace of sunset had vanished, as though he wanted to see through that darkness, through the shadow hidden behind it.
Shui Bing'er stood beside him. She neither urged him nor spoke, merely keeping him company in silence. Having spent so long together, they had long grown accustomed to this kind of wordless companionship.
But she knew that something weighed heavily on Ning Xiaochun's heart at that moment. It was so heavy that an indescribable tension seemed to hang even in the air.
"She's waiting," Ning Xiaochun finally said. His voice was soft, yet it carried a weighty clarity.
"Bibi Dong chose to disappear, which means she already knows the situation. The Spirit Hall Empire's momentum is gone. Whether in troops or soul masters, she cannot possibly defeat us in a direct war. But she still has one way to turn things around—her only way."
He turned to Shui Bing'er. His deep eyes glimmered faintly in the night, like still, resolute stones.
"Becoming a god. As long as she obtains the Rakshasa Godhood, she alone will be enough to suppress the entire continent. By then, even if the two of us joined forces, we could never be a god's match. Beneath the gods, all are ants. That saying was never just empty words."
Shui Bing'er fell silent for a moment. She did not ask how far Bibi Dong's madness had gone, nor did she ask why