[ Access granted. ]

  [ Welcome, Realm Master. ]

  The words appeared in her mind at the same time that they flashed across the orb. The room dimmed — as if all the luminosity were being filtered out slowly. The air rushed in from nowhere and everywhere, and a cold chill gripped at her extremities.

  “Yaoyue!” Zhu Xuelian exclaimed, elated at the reaction from the orb.

  A sword-shaped wisp rose from the orb, formed of a familiar sword force — Yaoyue’s — but something was off. The wisp of sword force, or perhaps sword consciousness, became pure white, while everything else plunged into darkness.

  In the shadow and light of the wisp, Zhu Xuelian felt a vast world of death—so expansive that it stunned her for a moment as she felt the countershock of the emptiness. Millions—no, billions—of deaths stained that wisp, clinging to it like an overwhelmingly heavy galaxy of hate.

  She sensed something similar in Yaoyue, but it wasn’t like this. Yaoyue did not feel pride or joy in its heavy aura — Yaoyue did not feel anything. But this thing… there was something different about it.

  Zhu Xuelian thought she once met a Goddess — Eternal Red — but standing before this thing, she realized that she couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  This was a God of Death.

  “Who… what are you…?” Zhu Xuelian asked, swallowing.

  “I am Fragment Epsilon, Commander of the Fourth Solar Assault Fleet, in charge of foreign affairs and, now, the development of this strategic unit,” the voice spoke — same as Yaoyue’s, but darker and heavier.

  “Solar Assault…? Foreign affairs?” Zhu Xuelian asked, still stunned.

  “No further explanation necessary,” the entity coldly declared.

  Zhu Xuelian’s eyes widened in anger, and she stomped forward. “I want an explanation,” she demanded.

  Though she couldn’t produce an iota of sword force, her killing intent was as sharp as it had ever been. Once, it could make elders flinch. But in front of Epsilon, it was merely a burned-out candlewick, struggling to remain alive in hurricane gales.

  “Entity is a registered Realm Master. An exception will be made,” the voice spoke. “Declare your request.”

  Zhu Xuelian froze. An exception will be made. The way those words impacted her mind was like a meteor striking the earth, though she wasn't immediately sure why it felt that way. Maybe because it sounded so similar to "your life will be spared".

  “I… I want to see Yaoyue!” Zhu Xuelian said, retreating half a step toward the more important topic; the reason she came here.

  “That is not possible," the entity replied.

  “Why?” Anger flared in her heart. "If you did something to Yaoyue..."

  “Due to your unexpected breakthrough to a higher realm during a crisis, your physical vitality was fatally damaged. Entity 'Yaoyue' used its remaining lifespan to repair your broken vessel. Now, Yaoyue is in a state of stasis before death.”

  The words knocked the breath out of her lungs. Her mind didn’t quite understand their meaning at first, since they were spoken so esoterically, but her heart immediately understood. Even before she understood why, her eyes teared up.

  When her brain caught up, she rested a hand on the pedestal, but even so, couldn’t help but sink to her knees.

  “What…? Why…?” she asked, but the question wasn’t directed to anyone. "What...?"

  A part of her felt at ease in the darkness of the chamber, because her mind felt the same way. Her heart, too. She wasn't naive. She knew that the moment she made a pact with a devil sword that some day this devil would consume her lifeforce and carry on toward the pinnacle in the hands of a far-worthier cultivator.

  With this fact, she had made her peace. Perhaps, she was even proud of herself in this; she had already thought of herself as dead, so if a part of her could live on through her savior, she was more than willing to become fuel for its growth. It wasn't just this, but if her vitality could touch its heartless core and leave an impression of her gratitude, she thought it was more than acceptable.

  So why...? Why?

  Why?

  Why did Yaoyue save her...?

  "There must be something I can do..." Zhu Xuelian whispered.

  “Not possible,” the reply came instantaneously.

  Zhu Xuelian's heart bounced between helplessness and anger until it settled on helpless anger.

  “You are lying!!” Zhu Xuelian howled, heartbroken.

  “Reorganizing response priorities,” the voice replied. “Not possible for you.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  The orb flashed once more, projecting gleaming letters in a foreign language she had never seen before. She watched groups of those letters transform into scripts she could read. Her mind mirrored the information, and it left her feeling even more vacant than before.

  It was a list. Millions of tons of treasure-grade materials. Hundreds of thousands of living sacrifices. A thousand different treasures, such as dragon bones, and others with specific names that Zhu Xuelian had never even heard of, such as a Golden Treasure Bagua Jade.

  “T-there has to be something else!” Zhu Xuelian pleaded.

  “Unknown. Not enough data.”

  “What about Lady Yue? Or someone else? If I am not enou—“

  “Unknown. Not enough data.”

  “Stop saying that!” Zhu Xuelian hissed, pounding her fist into the pedestal. She just wanted something — anything — that she could do. Even if she tried to do things by that list, it would take her thousands of years — provided it was even possible.

  Was this the end of it all? The conclusion of this golden dream that let her revere something greater than her life? What was the point of saving her life, if it had no meaning anymore?

  Tears began to well in her eyes, as her heart crumbled at the thought that it was all her fault. The walls of helplessness closed in on her mind, crushing her spirit. She dreamed of one day saying farewell to Yaoyue, and being grateful for this journey, as she became part of it. She always felt that this was her unavoidable destiny, and she found a certain kind of happiness in it.

  Now the life that flowed in her reminded her of the baleful taste of reality where more than half of her was missing; if only she could carve open her veins, break her life vessel, spill her lifeforce, and return Yaoyue's gift a hundredfold, she would. But what was one hundred years of her life worth to Yaoyue? A day? A minute? A second?

  Yaoyue was a supreme being; she was merely a mortal. Her blood was worthless.

  If she had rolled over in that forest and died, someone else would've found Yaoyue — someone worthier than her.

  She should have rolled over and—

  After a moment of silence, the entity spoke again.

  “Give up on Yaoyue.”

  Zhu Xuelian’s sword smashed into the orb, cutting halfway through the solid metal and rock. Sparks flew off the orb, blaring their red glow into the vast darkness of the chamber, but still failing to illuminate any of it. The orb on top of the pedestal trembled once, then settled.

  Zhu Xuelian's fingers closed around the wisp of sword consciousness and gripped tightly against the ethereal blade.

  “If you ever suggest I give up on Yaoyue again, I will slaughter you,” Zhu Xuelian said, colder than ice.

  Ultimately, this is where her true heart lay. Even in the darkest night, and the deepest despair, there was but one light in her soul, and this soul did not know how to retreat or compromise. This life that now flowed in her existed only to protect and exalt that light, no matter what. The odds did not matter. The difference in strength did not matter. Gods or saints, she would crush anyone who would try to dim that light.

  All the doubt, all the hesitation, all the panic — it all disappeared in an instant. For once, she felt in control of herself again.

  Yaoyue was not dead. Epsilon said Yaoyue was in a state of stasis before death — that is what elders and sect masters do, holding their last breath, to be spent when the sect is in danger.

  “This fragment has provided you with its assessment,” the entity spoke. "I cannot provide further assistance."

  Zhu Xuelian withdrew the sword from the orb and released the wisp.

  “I reject your assessment,” Zhu Xuelian said.

  She didn’t linger any further. It all felt so far away. A giant chasm opened between her and the future and grew wider with each passing second.

  Before she even realized it, her tears began to shatter against the stairs. With each step she took further from the Inner Sanctum, the tears became heavier and heavier, as though parts of her soul crumbled away with them.

  After a few hundred steps, she couldn’t see the stairs anymore, only her tears.

  She wanted to cry. Her heart twisted and churned, vacant, empty, and abandoned once again. It felt similar to betrayal, but Yaoyue did not betray her. Yaoyue saved her, again.

  She took a detour and she wasn’t even sure if she had intended to, or if she simply couldn’t make out the right path because of her blurry vision. She found herself on a bench, beneath a magnolia in bloom, and there she cried as much as her heart would let her.

  The wind blew into her hair, and despite her tears, she smiled faintly. The scent of her hair reminded her of Yaoyue. Her body; her current appearance; and even the smell of her hair on the wind; they were all given to her by Yaoyue.

  This life; this future; this happiness; Yaoyue gave them to her.

  What did she give to Yaoyue? She couldn't even live up to her purpose as a tool.

  Each time Yaoyue thought of her as foolish, or merely a tool for its own ascension, she was aware of those thoughts. Didn't everyone, back then, think of her the same way? Which one of them didn't smile at her, while treating her like she was nothing more than trash? She did not mind if the remainder of her life was dedicated to being a devil's tool and toy if it meant they could use each other to achieve their goals.

  Yaoyue was a heartless devil who valued things for exactly what they were worth. So how come a heartless devil was the only one who valued her at all? How come a heartless devil didn't trample her dignity, like everyone else, but instead made her feel like a person?

  That time when Yaoyue touched her hand, and called her by her real name, her heart overflowed with joy. Yaoyue encouraged her to strive for and be more — not less! Yaoyue built temples of virtue in her — not raze them. What was meant to be the final surrender of her dignity turned out to be the first real taste of it, and the first step to reclaiming it. Now she yearned to be useful — a tool or a person, it didn't matter to her anymore — because it was cherished and admired, and in turn, it became her pride and joy to return the favor; they were two devils walking on the same road.

  All her dreams turned into nightmares, but this nightmare, strangely, turned into a wonderful dream.

  She didn’t want this dream to end.

  Zhu Xuelian wasn’t the cultivator everyone thought she was. The devil in her heart was far more terrifying than anyone could imagine. Her obsession ran so deep as to become the very heart itself. They thought that she couldn’t pass the sixth floor of the Pagoda of Introspection because there was something wrong with the Pagoda — but that was simply not the truth.

  Suitable for the sword? High aptitude for swordsmanship? Hardly.

  She just wanted to be useful to Yaoyue.

  Willpower? Tenacity? No, just obsession. Deeper than willpower. Harder than tenacity. More alive than life itself.

  What righteousness? What principle? Zhu Xuelian was a devil, already, through and through. She had entirely given herself to the devils in her heart, and she was glad she did. The only compass in her heart pointed to Yaoyue's exaltation, and it was merely by coincidence that Yaoyue's shape was that of a sword, and a sword was righteous and principled.

  So when she raised her eyes, red with tears, to the heavens, it was with a rueful, defiant gaze full of fire. The tears had run dry. The helplessness was too exhausted to continue. All that remained was obsession.

  She wouldn’t let this dream end.

  "Yaoyue... please wait... just a little bit longer..."

  She wouldn’t let this dream end.

  "I won't let you die..."

  She wouldn’t let this dream end.

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