"We won!"
Everyone from the Wendao Sword Sect—whether they were Pavilion Elders, Deacons, or ordinary disciples like Nangong Ning—couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief upon hearing those words.
The hearts that had been hanging in suspense for three days finally settled slightly.
Beyond the relief, joy welled up from the depths of their hearts, filling their eyes.
"That's wonderful."
"It's good that we won."
"Patriarch Yun Zheng is truly formidable..."
"Hahaha! One man, one sword, sweeping across the East Desolation. I ask you, how many swordsmen in this world can stand as his equal?"
However, there were still those like Wen Qingxue, who were close to Xu Xian and understood him well, who did not join in the celebration.
They could sense the desolation and helplessness hidden behind the Little Grand-Uncle's forced smile.
They had won.
But the condition of the Fifth Patriarch was likely far from optimistic, not to mention Ye Xianyu and Li Qingshan, who already knew the truth.
Yet...
They had won after all, and this joy should not be buried. They did not want to disturb the celebration, and they presumed Yun Zheng would not want to either. Thus, they all forced themselves to smile.
Xu Xian took some pills and began to heal on the spot. Li Qingshan assisted from the side, helping him recover his spirit essence.
The youth's complexion returned to normal at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Ye Xianyu issued orders to handle the aftermath.
She left several Pavilion Elders on the banks of the Wild River to guard against any unforeseen circumstances.
The remaining disciples were all sent back to resume their regular duties.
The names of the disciples who had unfortunately fallen in battle were recorded, and the Merchant Hall was instructed to return their remains to the sect.
The various halls and peaks began to withdraw from Spirit Elixir City in an orderly fashion.
In Demon-Slaying City, news of the Wendao Sword Sect's great victory spread with extreme speed.
The spies from the Central Plains lurking in the shadows immediately sent the news back to their territories.
"Report to the sect immediately: the East Desolation has suffered a crushing defeat!"
"Understood!"
The war came to a complete close as Xu Xian opened his eyes and the divine sword returned.
The auspicious beast had chosen its master.
The East Desolation had been bathed in blood.
Spirit Elixir City had changed hands.
The three-thousand-mile neutral zone of the Demon Suppression Abyss now belonged to the human race.
The original border had been forcibly pushed forward to the banks of the Wild River.
What the future held was unknown, but for now, it was a grand victory for humanity.
However, for the Central Plains, their wariness of the Wendao Sword Sect increased by several degrees.
Today, they could sweep through the Great Desolation with a sword, and even Emperor Bai Ze was no match. Tomorrow, if that sword were hung over the Southern Heavens, could the Ancestors of the Three Sects withstand it?
The answer was not optimistic.
By the time Ye Xianyu finished arranging everything, the sun was already sinking in the west, and dusk was approaching.
The thick clouds shrouding the battlefield were gently blown away by the late autumn wind.
The scene was one of clouds parting and mist dispersing.
Sunlight broke through the haze and fell, illuminating the battered and broken battlefield. Bathed in the yellow glow of twilight, it rendered a unique sense of tragic beauty.
The Wild River gurgled and flowed, its water like boiling soup, turbid and messy.
The crowd saw a figure in green slowly flying from within the rosy clouds.
He finally landed on a high earthen slope on the bank of the Wild River. He sat there alone, his back to the Northern Borders, watching the sunset. He looked out at the Great Desolation he had just finished sweeping through.
Ye Xianyu asked Xu Xian, "Can you move?"
Xu Xian, sitting cross-legged on the ground, lowered his brows and nodded.
"Yes."
Ye Xianyu stood up and walked toward the bank of the Wild River, saying in a poignant tone, "Then let's go. You and I will see Senior Brother off on his final journey."
Li Qingshan lowered his eyes. Wen Qingxue knit her brows. In the red-haired boy's eyes, light flickered and dimmed...
Xu Xian stood up, raised a hand to brush the dust from his shoulder, glanced at the auspicious beast out of the corner of his eye, and whispered an instruction: "Watch over him."
Wen Qingxue gave a soft affirmation. Li Qingshan said nothing.
Under their watchful eyes, Xu Xian stepped forward to follow Ye Xianyu. In just a few leaps, he had crossed dozens of miles through the sunset and landed on the earthen slope that had been halved by a sword strike.
The Wild River surged, the autumn wind sowed, and the setting sun stretched for a thousand miles, but no geese returned.
They saw Yun Zheng sitting quietly in meditation. His once black hair had turned to willow catkins—a head of snow-white.
Xu Xian thought that the line of poetry, 'black hair like silk in the morning, turned to snow by evening,' was likely exactly like this.
"Senior Brother!"
"Senior Brother!"
Yun Zheng did not turn around. He continued to look beyond the setting sun and spoke warmly.
"You've come!"
His voice was low and carried the aura of twilight, much like the sunset before them, never to return.
Ye Xianyu walked slowly to Yun Zheng's side. She looked down at him from time to time, her face expressionless, but her voice trembled slightly, unable to hide her choking emotion.
"Senior Brother, your hair?"
Yun Zheng slightly raised a hand. His once handsome, unblemished, and sharply defined face was now covered in wrinkles and age spots.
Now a grey-haired old man, he said with a face full of kindness, "I've grown old, haven't I?"
Though Ye Xianyu had a thousand words, in the end, she only managed a soft, "Yes."
Yun Zheng spoke dismissively, "I've lived for nearly ten thousand years. I grew old long ago. This should have been my true appearance all along."
Ye Xianyu did not deny it, saying against her heart, "It still looks very good."
Yun Zheng smiled without speaking. His withered palm gently patted the ground beside him.
"Sit."
Ye Xianyu sat down obediently.
Yun Zheng then patted the other side. "Little Eleven, you come too."
Xu Xian, who had remained silent, stepped forward and took his seat as requested. He wanted to look at Yun Zheng's face, yet he almost didn't dare to. Perhaps he was still too young to accept the reality of youth vanishing in an instant.
Two completely different skins, yet they contained the same soul.
Yun Zheng sat cross-legged, gazing at the sky beyond the setting sun, and lamented, "The sunset is as beautiful as a painting, a fleeting moment of wonder. What a beautiful Great Desolation, though it's a pity it's been beaten to ruins."
Ye Xianyu remained silent. Xu Xian did not say a word.
At this time, in such a moment, they truly did not know what to say, nor what they could say.
They had won the battle, and victory should be celebrated, but both of them knew very well that their Senior Brother had exhausted his life force.
Should they be sad? Of course. They also asked themselves if it was worth it. The answer they received was that it was.
Had it been them, they might not have had the courage to do this. But it was undeniable that doing so was indeed the most valuable and the most tragic course of action.
How could Yun Zheng not see through the thoughts of the two youngsters? He spoke to comfort them, "Life is death, and death is life—this is the Dao. All men must die, but some deaths are weightier than mountains, while others are lighter than feathers."
"With this single life of mine, though I have sacrificed a few hundred years of longevity, I have severed at least five thousand years of the East Desolation demon race's Great Dao Fortune. No deal could be more worthwhile than this."
"You should be happy for me!"
Xu Xian thought about it very seriously, turned his head to look at Yun Zheng, and nodded heavily in agreement.
Ye Xianyu, however, gave a bitter smile and muttered, "Death is death. There's no need for so many justifications..."
Yun Zheng half-closed his eyes and said, "As humans, we all die."
Ye Xianyu lowered her eyes and shook her head, mocking herself, "I can't win an argument against you. You're the Senior Brother, so whatever you say is right. Tell me, is there anything else you're worried about? Tell us everything at once."
Yun Zheng said calmly, "To hear the Dao in the morning and die in the evening is enough. I have no regrets!"
Ye Xianyu lowered her eyes. She had asked Yun Zheng long ago: if he went, he might not return. Did he really want to go? Yun Zheng had said that if he went and did not return, then he simply would not return.
She sighed softly, her brows relaxing as she said, "Rest assured, I will guard these three thousand miles of territory for you."
Having said that, she stood up, stomped her foot, and said lightly, "From now on, this place shall be the new Boundary Mountain!"
She then raised her hand and pointed toward the bank of the Wild River, continuing, "There, I will build a city. It shall be called..."
After a slight pause, her gaze swept toward Yun Zheng as she said word by word, "The Sword Qi Great Wall!"
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