In midair, the Snow Empress looked down at the dying man and woman locked in an embrace. Not a ripple stirred in her ice-blue eyes. She was about to raise her hand and end their lives when Xiao Yan reached out to stop her.
Xiao Yan arched an eyebrow with interest as he watched Ye Xishui below, preparing to pour out a lifetime of secrets. He made no move to interrupt.
Wouldn't it be a shame if such a spectacular, century-long tragedy played out without the people involved there to listen?
Behind his back, Xiao Yan pressed the index and middle fingers of his right hand together. His fingertips silently traced several silver threads of spatial law, which vanished into the void beside him. The surrounding space rippled ever so slightly, then returned to stillness.
Consumed by overwhelming grief and shock, Long Xiaoyao and Ye Xishui noticed nothing of the little maneuver taking place overhead.
Amid the ruins, Ye Xishui leaned into Long Xiaoyao's bloodstained embrace. Her clouded eyes gazed at the aged yet still sharply defined face before her. Her shriveled lips parted as she laid bare, word by word, the enormous conspiracy that had remained buried for an entire century and shaped all three of their lives.
"Back then, when you, Mu En, and I first competed in the Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Soul Dueling Tournament, I was actually there on a mission." Ye Xishui's voice was hoarse, yet unusually calm.
"I was already a member of the Holy Spirit Cult. I entered the tournament to investigate the finest young talents of our generation. And that was how I met you and Mu En."
Her withered fingers gently rubbed the bloodstains on Long Xiaoyao's lapel, her gaze drifting toward the distant past.
"You were both so outstanding,