Xianyu froze for a long while.
Kitty, cradled in his arms, strained to lift her head and nuzzle his arm, sticking out her tongue to lick his hand.
Only when he felt the wetness on the back of his hand did Xianyu come back to himself.
He told the child:
"...Why would I blame her? Thank you for protecting her."
Xianyu gently said goodbye to the children.
He retraced his steps, clearly feeling Kitty's body grow colder along the way.
Xianyu returned to the residence and found a resting place for Kitty beneath a tree in the courtyard.
With one hand, he stroked Kitty's head; with the other, he drew a sword to dig a hole.
When Xianyu finished digging, he stared at the dirt on the blade.
This sword, which cost countless Strales, probably never imagined it would be used to dig a hole.
Xianyu's thoughts wandered aimlessly, until he suddenly remembered a saying.
From the day you chose to keep a pet, you planted a seed of sorrow in your heart.
Of course, whether you kept a pet or formed bonds, the day of parting would eventually come. You had to risk shedding tears.
As for those innocent, adorable pets, they would not remember death or pain, only the happy times they had shared with you.
Would he regret keeping this cat? Would he regret forming ties with others?
The answer, naturally, was no.
Xianyu believed that, over these thousands of years, every choice he had made had been the best choice for the Xianzhou and humanity, given the circumstances.
He would not make mistakes, nor could he afford to.
As such, Xianyu rarely felt regret.
His only regret was leading the Xianzhou natives into freeloading off "The Plagues Author."
*What if we had chosen mechanical ascension? What