The Grace of That Sword

Watching Tamayo sob her heart out, everyone present felt indescribably conflicted.

After all, nearly everyone here hated demons.

Tamayo hated them—how could they not?

Hane glanced at Xunri, and soon everyone quietly withdrew from the hall, leaving only Tamayo and Muzan behind.

Outside, Makomo listened to the sounds of crying and laughter coming from within, her expression filled with concern.

"Master, is it really all right to leave Senior Sister alone in there?"

Hane raised his head and calmly looked at the moonlight overhead.

"There's nothing wrong with it. Some things just need to be let out. I believe she'll emerge from her hatred."

Xunri and the others behind Hane nodded.

"Master, are you not leaving this time?"

As soon as he said that, they all looked at Hane expectantly.

Hane took in the hopeful gazes of his disciples. To be honest, this was the world where he had stayed the longest.

For more than ten years, he had watched them grow into people capable of standing on their own. Hane's gaze seemed to travel through time, returning to the moment when he had first brought those little ones back to the mountain.

A faint sense of accomplishment filled his heart, but he quickly dispelled it. He still had a long road ahead of him, so he could not fulfill his disciples' hopes.

Hane sighed and shook his head.

The light in his disciples' eyes immediately dimmed.

"Teacher, where else are you going? Makomo can stay by your side!"

"Us too..."

Xunri and the others had wanted to say that they would follow Hane as well, but the words caught in their throats. A trace of struggle flashed through their eyes.

After all, they were no longer the destitute orphans they had once been. Behind them were subordinates who had