Some hurried to their deaths; some lingered in desolation, not knowing where to go.
The remaining cultivators of the Nine Heavens in the void watched those below go to their deaths so Su Mo would not have to choose, and their eyes gradually reddened.
If Su Mo could not sever the Ninth Heaven, the entire Ninth Heaven would eventually be swallowed by the Red Mist.
Everyone knew that those below who willingly went to their deaths... were merely leaving hope for others.
They would die either way. To them, there was no difference.
"Why has it come to this..." a female disciple of the Dao Sect asked miserably, her eyes red as she watched those below go bravely to their deaths despite the reluctance on their faces.
Dao Hua fell silent, without a trace of his usual leisurely, rakish manner. He merely opened his mouth, unable to say a single word.
An old monk from the Boundless Measure Temple pressed his palms together and closed his eyes in anguish, unable to bear looking down at those offering up their lives.
"Amitabha..."
Someone watched those below willingly go to their deaths and murmured, "Because they know Su Mo cannot bring himself to slay them with his own hands..."
"They... are helping Su Mo make his choice."
"Just as they said, they wish for Su Mo to find peace of mind, and for the mortal world... to know peace."
With someone taking the lead, everyone along the edge of the Red Mist throughout the Nine Heavens seemed to understand something.
They knew how heavy a burden the thought in their white-robed Human Emperor's heart would demand of him...
They also knew this was now the only way. What could they do, even if they did not want to die?
If they could