Chapter 138: The Death of the Black Robe
A self-deprecating smile appeared at the corner of Wang Zhice's lips, his gaze tinged with melancholy.
On the very night Snow Old City had just been breached, at the very moment the crisis of the Holy Light Continent's invasion had been resolved, he now had to face the siege of four human Saint Domain powerhouses.
"In your eyes, this is a very sorrowful matter. In my eyes, it is the same."
Chen Changsheng said, "I have read your notes, and many books related to you. I truly wish I had not seen you tonight, so that you would still be the legend in my heart."
Wang Zhice released the Black Robe's hand, walked down the steps, looked at the crowd, and said calmly, "I'm sorry."
The tense atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by a voice.
"Excuse me... could you all show me a little respect? This is my home."
The Demon Lord took two steps forward and said, "Shouldn't I be the tragic protagonist of tonight?"
Tang Thirty-Six thought of those letters and said with a smile, "Tragedy often stems from stubbornness. You're still young, not yet stubborn."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
The Demon Lord looked at him seriously, then turned to the Black Robe and said with genuine emotion, "Are you really prepared to leave with this man?"
The Black Robe lowered her head slightly, a bitter smile appearing at the corner of her lips. Although her complexion was an eerie cyan, it still possessed a strangely beautiful allure.
The Demon Lord's gaze grew fervent as he said, "I won't let you go!"
The wind rose for no reason. Without any visible movement, Wang Zhice returned to the platform and seized the Demon Lord by the throat.
A magical artifact fell at the Demon Lord's feet, shattering into pieces.
He had just aimed this demonic tool at the Black Robe, but before he could fire, he was subdued by Wang Zhice.
The Demon Lord's face turned red, and he could barely breathe, yet he kept laughing.
Wang Zhice slowly released his hand, his face turning somewhat pale.
The Black Robe lay on the ground, already dead.
A seemingly ordinary sword had pierced through her body, directly destroying her Nether Palace.
The one holding the sword was a man in green robes.
The man in green had been hiding in the Demon Lord's shadow all along, waiting for the earlier opportunity before striking with sudden violence.
Even with the Demon Lord's help, even with Wang Zhice's attention focused on Wang Po and the others, being able to kill someone right in front of Wang Zhice—this man in green was certainly no ordinary assassin.
He was the world's number one assassin, Liu Qing.
Chen Changsheng exchanged a glance with Wang Po.
The three men from the wind and rain of Xunyang City were all present.
...
...
And so the Black Robe died.
Wang Zhice stood silently before her, lost in thought.
In the end, he did not strike.
He picked up the Black Robe's corpse and walked out of the Demon Palace, soon disappearing from sight.
Tang Thirty-Six said to the Demon Lord, "Thanks for that."
The Demon Lord replied, "I told you I loved her. If we couldn't be born on the same day, month, and year, at least we could die on the same day, month, and year."
Tang Thirty-Six said, "Can't stand you guys."
The Demon Lord smiled and said, "You won't have to from now on. Farewell."
Chen Changsheng said seriously, "Go well."
Tang Thirty-Six struggled to get off his wheelchair and said to him, "Take care."
Walking into the demonic flames that resembled the night, the Demon Lord's body gradually turned to nothingness.
Until the very last moment, a smile lingered on his face—somewhat satisfied, somewhat eerie, its meaning unknown.
...
...
Snow began to fall, snowflakes drifting wildly in the night sky.
Those specks of light still floated in the night sky, like fireworks.
Wang Zhice carried the Black Robe and left Snow Old City.
Half the city was fireworks, half the city was snow.
On a distant snowy hill, a black sheep stood quietly watching.
...
...
The night would eventually pass, and dawn would surely come.
The rebel army was finally routed and fled the capital. The Pacifying North Battalion and the Imperial Guard joined forces and began the pursuit.
Xuan Yuan Po handed over command to the human officers and stayed at the National Academy.
After a night of bitter fighting, even he, a half-step Divine Saint, had suffered many injuries. Especially when surrounded by the experts of the Tianhai family, a large gash had been cut into his left shoulder. Blood had flowed like a waterfall at the time, and even he found it strange that he still didn't feel dizzy.
Of course, all those Tianhai family experts had died under his iron sword.
Thinking back to many years ago, when he had been crippled by Tianhai Ya'er at the Ivy Banquet, Xuan Yuan Po couldn't help but feel a twinge of emotion.
He knew that Tianhai Ya'er had died three years ago, reportedly from depression.
Walking through the National Academy, feeling the awed gazes of the teachers and students, Xuan Yuan Po felt a bit uncomfortable.
The teachers and students of the National Academy clearly treated him like a stranger.
He was an old friend of the National Academy, and he even seemed to hold some kind of position there.
The Library Pavilion was much quieter. The low wall had been demolished, but the small building remained in its original state. Apart from Su Moyu, no instructors or students could live inside.
Those rooms were reserved for Zhe Xiu, Tang Thirty-Six, Chen Changsheng, and himself.
There were many trees in front of the small building, and even more large trees in the grove near the direction of the Imperial Palace.
Xuan Yuan Po felt both nostalgic and regretful.
He used to often bump into those trees in the grove. Now he didn't dare to do that anymore. If he bumped into them now, no matter how thick the tree, it would break.
Walking to the opposite shore of the lake, Xuan Yuan Po saw the building he was most familiar with—the kitchen.
The original kitchen had been destroyed by Wu Qiong Bi. This one was rebuilt later, but it was no different.
Xuan Yuan Po entered the kitchen, looked at the pots and pans, and thought of Chen Changsheng's requirement for less oil and less salt. He felt like his mouth was about to become bland as a bird's. Then he thought of the boiled blue lobster over white rice he had eaten with Tang Thirty-Six several times, and his mouth began to water.
There was no food in the kitchen. It seemed no one used it regularly. Xuan Yuan Po felt a bit disappointed.
Before leaving, he stared at the neatly stacked firewood for a moment, then thrust his iron sword into it.
Many years ago, when he was cooking here, he used to do this out of habit.
But today, he didn't plan to take the iron sword back, because he wanted to learn from Tang Thirty-Six and Chen Changsheng.
Decades or even centuries later, a bullied new student at the National Academy would discover this iron sword in the firewood pile. What kind of story would unfold after that?
Xuan Yuan Po was very much looking forward to it.
Luo Luo was also very interested when she heard about this and laughed.
But her laughter soon stopped. She wasn't in a good mood.
Last night had been very long. First, the Emperor Senior Master had turned into a sun, and then the Master had spoken to her from Snow Old City, telling her not to move.
What exactly had happened in Snow Old City? Since the Emperor Senior Master was so powerful, why had they even come to the capital?
"Is what we did meaningless?"
She stood on the big banyan tree and asked Xuan Yuan Po seriously.
Xuan Yuan Po stood under the tree, worried that Her Highness might fall, and said, "You haven't climbed this tree in over a decade. Be careful not to slip."
Luo Luo made a funny face, nimbly jumped over a branch, walked to the front of the limb, and looked at the lake.
Trees grow, but their shapes don't change much.
"The Dean said that the process is more important than the goal. So I think... our coming to the capital certainly has meaning."
Xuan Yuan Po paused, then said, "Actually, I don't really understand what that sentence means."
"You really are a dumb bear."
Luo Luo said.
Xuan Yuan Po thought to himself, if you weren't Her Highness but Tang Thirty-Six, I definitely wouldn't let you off.
Luo Luo explained, "The Master's meaning is simple. We're all going to die. The goal is already set. So of course, the process is what matters."
Xuan Yuan Po thought about it very seriously and said, "That does seem to make a lot of sense."
Luo Luo looked at the lake and spotted a very fat koi fish, but she didn't know if it was the same one from before.
That fat koi fish gradually sank toward the bottom of the lake.
Suddenly, it flicked its tail and began swimming happily back to the surface, sending up splashes of water.
Luo Luo laughed happily.
...
...
Many days later, Chen Changsheng and his group returned to the capital.
Traces of war could still be seen in the streets and alleys. There were many collapsed buildings. It was said that even the flower hall of the Eastern Imperial General's Mansion had collapsed, but fortunately, no one was hurt.
The taverns in Hundred Flowers Alley had suffered especially heavy losses. Even after two autumn rains, smoke still seemed to rise from somewhere.
Chen Changsheng did not return to the Li Palace first but went directly to the National Academy.
It hadn't been long since they last saw each other, but he missed it dearly.
Luo Luo was about to throw herself into his arms when she suddenly sensed something different about him. Her eyes widened.
Chen Changsheng nodded.
Luo Luo let out a soft gasp, quickly covered her mouth, her eyes full of surprise.
Chen Changsheng smiled and ruffled her hair.
Luo Luo tilted her head and squinted her eyes, like a little tiger, very cute.
Chen Changsheng withdrew his hand.
Luo Luo was about to continue her earlier motion and throw herself into the Master's arms when she suddenly caught a glimpse of a flash of white clothing.
She quickly suppressed her smile and said seriously, "Greetings, Mistress."
...
...
Xu Yourong had returned. Tang Thirty-Six had returned. Su Moyu, Chu Wenbin, and other teachers and students had also returned.
Of course, some people would never return.
Guan Feibai and Bai Cai did not come to the capital to meet Gou Hanshi. They went straight back to Li Mountain.
After the Li Mountain disciples saw those bone ash urns, they wept bitterly, then were dead drunk for three days.
Qi Jian was also very sad, because Senior Brother Liang Banhu had died, but she didn't drink, because besides sadness, she was mostly worried.
Zhe Xiu did not return.
He did not go back to Li Mountain, nor did he return to the National Academy. The wolf tribes on the grasslands had also been searching for news of him.
No one knew where he was, or whether he was alive or dead.
Chen Changsheng looked at the tightly closed door and said, "Back then, he managed to get out of the Zhou Prison alive. There's no way he just died like this."
Tang Thirty-Six said, "I also think he's still alive, because he still owes me a lot of money."
...
...
Snow Old City welcomed a harsh winter. Heavy snowflakes like goose feathers fell without cease.
Inside the city, thanks to the ample supplies left behind by the dead nobles, things were not too bad. But life outside the city was very difficult.
The human occupying forces maintained order within the city with strict laws, but they couldn't manage much outside. It all depended on whether food aid would arrive next spring.
North of the city, there was a grassy slope, now covered in thick snow. It was impossible to tell that this had once been a cemetery.
Only the occasional black stele emerging from the snow indicated its former purpose.
Suddenly, the snow began to move, gradually bulging upward. Then the snow fell away, revealing a person.
That person was dressed in tattered clothes. The skin exposed outside the clothes was a sickly, pale cyan, emitting a strong stench of decay. It was hard to tell if it was a corpse or a living person.
If not for the extreme cold, the stench of decay would likely have spread far and wide.
That strange person scooped up snow and slowly scrubbed his cyan body. Then, from the grave pit beneath the snow, he found a black robe and draped it over himself.
He pulled up the hood, which could block the wind and snow, and also block the view.
Vaguely, one could see that the strange person's gaze was extremely cold.
...
...
(The following is a six-hundred-character advertisement. I earnestly ask you to read to the end.
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Bow.)