The night was deep black, layered clouds flying past. Lightning like silver serpents illuminated the edges of dark golden cloud layers, plowing through the vast ten-thousand-mile sky in crisscrossing furrows.

A night of black clouds bearing down upon the city, with violent rain about to descend.

“Crack!”

A violent thunderclap finally tore through the night’s silence. Heaven and earth instantly blazed white and bright, outlining the savage black shadows of trees with their teeth and claws bared upon the earth. Between those long and wildly dancing tree shadows, several even blacker shadows flashed past like meteors.

The person in the lead possessed exceptional lightness skills, his form moving so quickly it almost generated faint afterimages. Yet each time he landed, he seemed to stumble slightly—from his posture, it appeared his strength was failing. However, each time he was about to fall, he would twist his body with the momentum and shoot forward even faster and more fiercely, sparing no effort whatsoever, giving himself not the slightest opportunity to pause.

His body leaned slightly forward—the most energy-efficient posture for desperate flight—yet both hands clutched tightly to a small bundle in his embrace.

That tiny bundle remained protected in his arms, undisturbed by wind or rain. Even as he rushed forward, he never forgot to shield it with his hands, fearing it might be touched by even a single thread of rain.

Behind him, several shadowy figures followed neither too close nor too distant, maintaining a protective formation. Though the pursuers’ lightness skills varied in proficiency, their step frequencies remained perfectly synchronized, their encircling method highly disciplined—clearly the result of rigorous training. Apart from the lead figure who kept his head down as he rushed forward, the others constantly looked back even while racing onward, seemingly monitoring movements behind them.

The rumbling rain isolated all clamor, yet the violent wind carried certain faint sounds from behind—the sound of horse hooves trampling through puddles, the sound of blades and swords scraping and clashing, the sound of long whips anxiously and repeatedly striking horse flanks.

These sounds reached the ears of this desperately fleeing small company, and these weary, bedraggled people moved even faster.

Clearly, this was a rainy night pursuit and assassination. Along winding mountain roads and through dense blue-green forests, under terrible weather conditions, pursuers and fugitives engaged in a contest of stamina and endurance.

“At least we’re almost there!” Within the fugitive group, a burly man wiped away rain water and craned his neck to look toward some direction beyond the dark mountains. In his bloodshot eyes, sparks of hope flickered to life.

“Once we arrive, quickly check Little Six’s injuries.” Another tall, jade-faced man turned his head, his gaze looking back with concern at a youth wielding twin swords.

That one called Little Six appeared to still be a child—pale and thin, blood-soaked from head to toe. Facing the caring gazes everyone turned upon him, he stubbornly pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“We told you not to come, but you insisted. Now look what’s happened—holding everyone back!” A short man sneered from the corner of his mouth, glaring at that slender youth, yet casually flicked out a medicinal pill and stuffed it into the youth’s mouth.

The youth spat it out with a “ptui” into the dust.

“You!”

“San Hu!” The lead man holding the bundle shouted sternly. The short man immediately shut his mouth and turned his head away. The lead man looked at the youth with somewhat apologetic eyes… Little Six had not yet completed his training and should never have made this journey, but… He sighed, patting the youth’s head. “Fortunately we’re almost there…”

“Whoosh!”

A fierce wind-breaking sound pierced through the rain curtain, instantly cutting off his words. Rain flowers mixed with blood flowers splashed up. The figure running at the rear responsible for keeping watch staggered once and fell soundlessly.

Through the dark sharp point protruding from his back, the joy that had just begun to appear on the fugitives’ brows was nailed down!

The enemy had caught up!

The lead man instinctively tightened his grip on the bundle in his embrace, pressing his lips together. With a shake of his head, rain water flew from his entire body. His rain-drenched face reflected in the white light of lightning, his gaze sharp as an eagle sweeping toward the rear of the formation.

Receiving his glance, the burly man suddenly spun around with a great laugh: “Damn it, so much trouble!” Blue light flashed in his palm. Without another word, he charged toward the pursuers.

In the violent rain, rough cold laughter shot out like nails. Almost the instant he landed, this man who appeared utterly exhausted already had his blade rising and falling, killing several people in succession. The corpses of fallen enemies blocked the road.

Enraged enemies swarmed in, surrounding him in the center. Rain water washed out the contours of the fighters. In the mud rose someone’s hoarse roar—whose, no one could tell. Great sheets of blood flowers mixed with rain water splashed outward, dyeing the pale lightning red.

In the lightning, a solitary black silhouette remained on that side of the rain curtain, using his own strength alone to block the enemy’s advance. On this side, the remaining people didn’t even hesitate—gritting their teeth, they continued forward without looking back.

There was no time to hesitate, even less time to grieve. Such scenes had already stretched endlessly along this escape route paved with white bones and fresh blood. All along the way, the company of three hundred had been whittled down in precisely this manner to the few scattered individuals remaining this night.

No one complained, and no one flinched. This was their entire reason for existence—six hundred years ago, the brilliant and talented emperor had established these secret guards, trained generation after generation. These people enjoyed the highest level of support, their families and wives and children all specially cared for. In ordinary times they did not fight, did not stand guard, were not commanded by any high officials or nobility. Perhaps they would never be deployed even once in their entire lives. However, once they were used, it would be at the moment heaven and earth overturned—and then, everyone would become death warriors, each worth a hundred!

Worth more than a hundred? Along an escape route stretching a thousand miles, facing tens of thousands of relentless pursuing troops, through assassinations, ambushes, counterespionage, offense and defense… Setting out with three hundred people, arriving here with only the final five remaining—yet in exchange, thousands of enemy corpses lay fallen all along the way.

In the heavily locked imperial secret archives, they were called: Xue Futu!

However, just as Xue Futu could never be known to the world, all the brilliant battle achievements belonging to this elite force were destined to be silently buried by history.

To exist was to sacrifice when the moment required it.

Behind them, the enemy’s clamor came again. A single life could only buy one precious moment of delay. Little Six’s gaze turned cold—he was about to wheel back when the short man San Hu suddenly reached out and yanked him fiercely to one side.

“Showing off!”

In the violent rain, San Hu tightened his waist binding where a constantly bleeding wound was located, saying with great dissatisfaction: “I knew good fortune should come to me.”

He dragged his blade and turned back around, leaving his companions with a lazy, slouching back, waving his hand.

“If anyone survives, remember to tell my daughter that her dad will never marry a second wife now—tell her she can rest easy!”

The remaining three fell silent. Little Six’s face grew even paler. The lead man closed his eyes.

“Good!”

The sounds of slaughter were left far behind. The three raced desperately forward. This was time bought with lives—no one had the right to waste it!

From the distance came a shrill and familiar roar, sharply penetrating the clamor of heaven and earth. The lead man immediately said: “Don’t look back!”

But Little Six had already turned his head. In that instant, he clearly saw the scene behind of flesh and blood flying, trampled into mud. His eyes turned blood-red.

Immediately afterward, he soundlessly charged back.

The lead man reached out and caught him. Little Six struggled desperately, but the hand clamped on his arm remained motionless as an iron vise. Through the rain sounds, he heard the boss’s clear, steady voice: “A’Yan, you go!”

Little Six whirled around abruptly, saying angrily: “Boss, have you gone mad!”

That tall man was already smiling, saying: “My child, I entrust to the boss.”

The lead man nodded silently, averting his gaze. Little Six was about to say something more when his mute acupoint was immediately sealed.

The tall man patted his head, his smile warm, saying: “Little Six, the Tian Zhan family now has only you as its heir. You must live well.”

He turned his head, his gaze meeting the lead man’s eyes, then each looked away.

Raising his head to gaze toward the rain curtain’s end, as if wanting to see through this heavy rain to the person he wished to see, or as if making a silent farewell, the tall man’s eyes flooded with faint pain and softness—yet it vanished in a flash. Immediately afterward, without looking back, he swept toward the midst of the enemy.

Before the man even arrived, his wrist shook.

“Whoosh!”

Black rope springs up from the ground, flexibly and nimbly coiling around the charging horses. With a roll and a pull, the foremost horse fell with a wretched cry. The rider on its back, bow drawn and arrow nocked, was caught unprepared and thrown off, rolling like a gourd, crashing into the horse behind. As that horse reared its head in a long whinny, its front hooves just beginning to rise, snow-white light flashed, a blood-red shadow bright as a rainbow—a human head spun away amid rain flowers. Immediately afterward, a long blade flipped out from his elbow, one stroke severing the lead rider’s head, following through with a pull that neatly chopped off the second horse’s legs. The instant the horse’s body crashed to the ground, he had already somersaulted up like a sparrow hawk, colliding into the mounted rider’s embrace. Blade in, blade out!

In the explosive burst of blood-light, the third rider had already arrived, his long sword slashing down with fierce wind. Cang Yan leaped up, the long blade in his hand—thinner and more slender than an ordinary blade—meeting that person’s sword. Blade and sword touched. “Slash!”

The mounted rider only felt the opponent’s blade suddenly vanish. His heart had just leaped with joy when suddenly he saw a blade tip silently and soundlessly clinging to his own long sword, sliding out snake-like, instantly extinguishing the spark of life!

In a split second, two horses killed, three men slain!

Xue Futu’s foremost expert!

Little Six was dragged forward by the lead man, still turning his head back to stare fixedly at that figure flashing swift as lightning, his entire body trembling slightly.

Yes, the entire company were the boss’s subordinates, all should press forward one after another in life-and-death situations, but it should not include A’Yan!

Only he knew—A’Yan was the boss’s own brother!

More importantly, he was a father. His son, three thousand miles away and the only male heir, was that family’s last descendant… And that child… that strange child—without a father, how could he survive!

This substitution meant two lives, meant the Cang family’s final thread of succession.

Such a decision—how could the boss bear to make it?

He suddenly stopped struggling, his rain-soaked hair hanging down, draped over his eyes. The lead man looked at the youth’s pale forehead, patting him with slight compassion, releasing his sealed acupoint.

“I have a premonition in my heart that there are probably still enemies ahead.” The lead man spoke in a deep voice. “If it truly is so, I will draw them away. You must remember to take…”

“Away!”

Before he could finish speaking, the youth suddenly raised his hand and grabbed the bundle from his embrace, throwing it out!

The tiny bundle flew through the air in an arc, thrown very far in an instant. Through the rumbling thunder, one could faintly hear from within the bundle a thin, weak crying sound trembling once. The lead man was greatly alarmed, urgently leaping up to catch it. When the bundle fell into his hands, only then did he release a long breath.

When he turned back again, the youth’s slender figure had already swept toward the pursuing cavalry behind.

A’Yan, locked in blood-soaked bitter combat, turned his head back to look at Little Six. In his gaze, one could not tell whether it held joy or sorrow. That youth only smiled lightly, saying softly: “Those of the Tian Zhan family eternally die together with their brothers.”

The violent rain poured down like heaven’s sorrowful song echoing distantly. The final batch of loyal men of the dying dynasty chose to step toward death with smiles.

The lead man held the bundle, watching from far away those figures fighting back-to-back. A faint light rose in his eyes. Then he pressed his lips together and turned to leave.

If he could, he would rather choose to die in his brother’s place, but he could not.

The light, soft bundle in his embrace weighed nothing, yet its responsibility was heavy as a thousand measures. Before completing his vow, he had no grounds to set it down.

The sounds of slaughter were blocked outside the rain curtain and night. His fleeing figure moved faster than lightning. In the distance, a small grove of trees appeared beyond the mountain hollow.

Joy appeared in the man’s eyes. He knew that beyond the grove lay the destination.

Yet that bit of joy was suddenly frozen. He whirled around abruptly, calling out in a low voice: “Who goes!”

The dark grove was utterly silent. Tree leaves blown by wind rustled like ghostly applause. That low shout, concentrated with vital energy, seemed to fall upon empty space.

The man frowned, summoning his full power to transmit his voice according to the agreed plan toward a thatched cottage concealed beyond the grove: “Descendant of the Imperial極, requesting audience with Valley Master. I beg Valley Master to fulfill the secret covenant passed down through generations!”

After calling out three times, there was no movement whatsoever behind the grove. No lights shone in the thatched cottage.

The man’s heart sank. Knowing the situation had changed, he immediately retreated three steps without showing any reaction, surveying his surroundings before slowly backing against an old tree on higher ground.

This location offered an open field of view with cover behind—if there were enemies in the forest, they could not surround and attack him.

Choosing terrain most advantageous to oneself when in an unfavorable situation was required coursework for Xue Futu.

The man was extremely cautious. Before backing against the old tree, he had already carefully observed the trunk for any abnormalities that could cause him harm.

However, the instant his back touched the tree trunk, he suddenly let out a wild roar and desperately flung himself backward with a great arching of his body.

When he landed, his leg was dripping with fresh blood.

Human shadows flickered continuously in the forest. Several gray-robed elders appeared soundlessly, surrounding him in the center.

The man’s expression was miserable as he glared toward the stump of that tree. There, moss accumulated and tree roots coiled—it looked like nothing special. Yet the man’s gaze fixed upon that stump as if seeing a demon drilling up from the ground.

There was no demon underground, yet a hand suddenly slowly extended forth.

Pure white, not large, looking like a child’s hand.

The forest grove was dark and dim, gray rain threads slanting down. In the dull colors, the small hand stood out distinct as a relief sculpture, slowly extending from the blue-green old tree. No matter how one looked at it, this scene held several parts eerie. The man’s normally steady and composed heart began pounding rapidly.

First the hand, then the wrist… The camouflage of moss and tree roots was pushed aside piece by piece, revealing jet-black hair. A person drilled out from the location of the tree stump.

He raised his head.

The man retreated a step in shock.

It really was a child.

Only about six or seven years old in appearance, wearing a dark green oiled wool garment that looked similar in color to the tree trunk. This color was extremely ugly, yet worn on this child, it made people feel it was pure and elegant. Just as this rainy night, deep forest, dark, muddy, filthy and cold—yet standing there, everyone’s hearts suddenly flashed with one word: jade person.

Bright light and clear润, as if carved from jade.

Already so captivating in appearance as merely a child—once grown, who could know how he would overturn all living beings.

Yet the man only clutched tighter the bundle in his embrace, vigilantly watching this child—he would not forget that it was precisely this seemingly harmless small youth who, hiding within this tree trunk, utilizing the concealment of this rainy night and dark forest, had ambushed battle-hardened him.

When the rigorously trained Xue Futu elite encountered danger in dense forests, they would habitually first choose to back against a large tree to occupy advantageous terrain. Under normal circumstances, a person’s line of sight would generally only extend forward at eye level, not deliberately downward. How could he have thought that within that not-particularly-thick tree stump, a hollowed space would conceal a child?

Was it coincidence, or deliberate arrangement?

If it was intentional arrangement, then this child was too terrifying—familiar with Xue Futu’s combat and self-preservation methods, understanding human habitual choices, bold and meticulous of heart, ruthless and decisive in action.

That strike just now—if not for his exceptional adaptability in avoiding it in time, should have stabbed straight into the vital point at his lower back.

That child tilted his head slightly, looking at him with interest. His gaze swept across the bundle in the man’s hands, then suddenly said lightly: “Some people are just stupid. Why exhaust effort and sacrifice manpower, chasing after you like dogs? Rather than pursuing and killing across a thousand miles, better to wait by the stump for rabbits. Don’t you say so?”

The man pressed his lips together, his gaze sweeping backward. That child immediately said: “No need to look. The person you were to meet has already left.”

The man’s eyes trembled. The master of this valley had an agreement with the late emperor—before he came seeking help and making contact, the master would absolutely not leave. Yet despite the enormous commotion in this forest, the stone house at the rear remained utterly silent. Could it be that the person truly had left?

Thinking this, his heart sank with despair. Yet he still cautiously maintained silence, not losing composure or panicking. That child, however, seemed able to read minds and was already laughing lightly, his smile pure and bright, yet his eyes cold as crystal stones.

“Don’t believe it? Actually, it’s very simple. Suppose that before you arrived, someone had already brought your Xue Futu’s token, holding a treasure identical to what’s in your embrace, requesting audience with Valley Master. What do you think Valley Master would do?”

The man trembled heavily, staring at that child in shock, after a long while saying in a low voice: “How could you know…”

The imperial family’s supreme secret for hundreds of years—how could this child know it so clearly?

“What do you think?” The smile on that child’s thin lips floated cool as lamp flowers on a desolate autumn night. “In this world, as long as someone knows a secret, sooner or later it will be leaked.”

The man clenched his hands… There was a traitor within Xue Futu!

The dynasty toppled, nobles all surrendered, loyal ministers of the old court all slaughtered. Now under vast heaven, only the Xue Futu who had enjoyed generations of support and were controlled by no power holders remained, preserving their freedom to protect this final bloodline of the imperial house. Through a thousand miles of pursuit and assassination, how many had perished along the road, how many had fought to the death to block the rear? Arriving now to the final few—A’Yan, Old Stone, San Hu, Little Six… Every single one was the most elite in the company, holding the highest status, their loyalty beyond all reproach, his brothers whom he entrusted with life and death.

Then… who could it be? Who could it be?

He could not suspect, dared not suspect. Once this thought was touched, it became icy tearing and boundless shadow. If it were true, if those sacrifices and followings could all be false—how could one bear it?

Drawing a deep breath, the man retreated a step. Now was not the time to investigate who the traitor was. The pressing matter was to complete his promise.

He retreated one step; those several gray-robed elders also stepped forward in unison. Their movements seemed ordinary, yet the man noticed with precision that after this step, the distance between himself and them remained exactly the same as before.

This discovery made his heart tighten again. Without doubt, the opponents were supreme experts with excellent eyesight and martial prowess. In his current condition, he could not withstand even one, let alone escape while surrounded by multiple people.

Rain fell soundlessly. Faintly, one could hear someone’s tense, heavy breathing. The foremost gray-robed elder woodenly raised his hand, pointing toward the bundle in the man’s embrace.

The man lowered his eyes, his voice calm: “…You want it? Trade your life for it.”

That child, however, laughed.

With a wave of his hand.

With a dull thud, a mass of something was thrown into the forest. The dim light outlined a dripping, blurred reddish contour that for a moment made it unclear what it was. Yet the man stared fixedly, his hands concealed in his sleeves clenching tight, nails digging into flesh.

It was San Hu’s corpse, or rather… actually, it could no longer be considered a corpse.

If not for the obviously shorter stature and the half-remaining Xue Futu insignia at the waist, even San Hu’s exceptionally wise, ruthless and sharp-minded little daughter would surely not be able to recognize him.

He remained silent, not uttering a word. The forest fell into deathly quiet stillness. Clearly no one made any movement, yet the atmosphere grew tense to the point of triggering at a touch.

Yet someone spoke as if nothing had happened.

“Of such a vast dynasty, still fighting with their lives until now, only you Xue Futu remain.” That child’s tone was light, slightly regretful. “I must say, you truly are… blindly loyal.”

“You see his end?” He pointed to that mass on the ground. At such a young age, facing such a tragic scene, he remained composed and unruffled, calm and indifferent to a chilling degree. “If you continue your stubborn obsession, the same awaits you.”

Yet the man had already slowly withdrawn his gaze, looking toward that child, actually smiling once.

“The Great Cheng dynasty at minimum still has us, this group willing to fight until the final moment in blind loyalty…” He smiled. “I just wonder, in the future when Your Excellency’s imperial power collapses, how many people will die for you?”

“Most regrettably, you won’t see that day.” That child was not angry, smiling faintly, his tone shifting. “But even if you cannot see it, don’t you hope your descendants and posterity will be able to see that day?”

The man’s expression changed.

“Your family has had difficulty with offspring for generations.” That child looked at him, tone light. “By your generation, rarely in a hundred years, there were two brothers. But even so, good fortune seems to have reached its end. Though your brother married early, to this day he has only one male heir, and I hear he’s also a…” He said this much, laughing lightly, then stopped speaking.

The man’s face was iron-blue. His normally steady hands were actually trembling slightly. He watched this small child, shock finally appearing in his eyes.

Everything about Xue Futu was top secret. The private matters belonging to him as leader, belonging to his family, were known by almost no one in the world. Yet this small child knew them thoroughly!

That child, however, ignored his expression and continued frankly: “I believe you do not fear death, and that gold, silver, pearls and jade cannot buy the Xue Futu leader whose family has been loyal for generations. But I believe that the thirty-seventh generation family head who has guarded Xue Futu through the ages definitely does not wish his family’s succession to be completely severed in his own hands.”

That light, casual sentence struck the man like a giant hammer. He staggered back a step, his expression miserable.

In this world there are no heroes who fear death, but there are dragons constrained by responsibility.

If the family line ended this day, he could not face his ancestors even in death.

That child watched his expression, the corners of his mouth curving in a satisfied arc: “I won’t harm you. I won’t even ask you anything. As long as you set down this bundle right now and turn to leave, that child of your family will henceforth rest easy without worry.”

Raising his palm, his still childish voice actually rang out resolutely: “I swear on my Sheng Ning bloodline—violators shall have their line severed!”

Everyone in the forest was moved—the Ning family, who with one hand had overturned Great Cheng dynasty’s rule, was the Great Cheng dynasty’s maternal relatives clan. Allegedly a hundred years ago they were a branch of Great Cheng’s vassal state imperial bloodline. A hundred years ago they were annexed by Great Cheng, therefore the Ning family privately called themselves “Sheng” (Sacred), placing extreme importance on bloodline succession. Such an oath carried considerable weight.

The man’s expression remained unchanged, yet his eyes already revealed contemplative color, clearly moved by his oath.

“Hand it over…” That child, observing expressions and reading emotions, immediately extended both hands gently, stretching them forward in a gesture of waiting to receive.

In the dark dim colors of the dense forest, wrist bones delicate and palm like jade, his voice like a thread of fine silk leisurely spreading forth, coiling and winding around the man’s restless, uneasy spirit.

“You’re the only one left of Xue Futu… Under vast heaven, as long as the people here don’t speak, no one will ever know what you’ve done…” The low voice sounded endlessly tempting, quietly bewitching human hearts. “You need only open your hands. From this moment forth, no one under heaven can make difficulties for your family…”

The man remained silent, as if deliberating, his gaze sorrowful and distant, as if wanting to see through this moment’s dark sky to the person he wished to see.

Everyone held their breath in concentration, waiting—waiting for him to retreat, or advance.

Waiting to become the one who ended this brilliant dynasty, waiting for this dynasty’s final spark to be extinguished.

This moment’s silence was thick and heavy as if tangible, congealing like mud, seemingly binding everyone’s bodies, minds and movements.

A very long time later.

The man finally raised his head, staring fixedly at him, revealing a smile.

That smile was light and shallow. In colors deep and dim, it looked as insubstantial as morning mist.

That child narrowed his eyes, a trace of cold light sweeping through them.

The man’s hand, however, had already lifted, palm faintly red, clearly having summoned his full vital energy.

That child’s gaze contracted even tighter, yet his form remained utterly motionless.

That man raised his palm, but it was not a gesture of release. Rather, he suddenly pressed downward.

Pressed toward the heart of the brocade bundle in his embrace!

Simultaneously, sorrowful and indignant laughter rose激越, shaking this forest until leaves rustled down in succession.

“When the nation topples and falls, what family remains? Since it has come to this, better to destroy everything cleanly!”

An eyebrow moved. That child in that instant swept over like light smoke. At the same time, the shadowy figures that had been watching like tigers from all around the dense forest all moved. Gray shadows like a contracting net, closing from four sides, determined to prevent the man’s hand movement.

Yet no matter how fast they moved, how could they match the speed of a falling palm? Faintly, red light flashed once—the palm had already pressed upon the bundle.

“Wu—”

Half a whimper not yet risen was already cut off abruptly!

That sound so thin and tender, in the midnight wind and rain of the dense forest, like a残烛’s starfire, flickering in an instant, vanishing in a moment.

Everyone’s faces turned iron-blue.

The youth’s gaze grew cold, layer by layer. He stared at the man. Though clearly small in stature with insufficient imposing presence, he looked like a young dragon in the vast heavens fixing its gaze upon a tiger racing across mountain wilds and earth.

Only when that gaze swept across the already utterly silent bundle did it still hold several parts suspicion.

That man, however, casually tossed the bundle aside, laughing angrily: “Having already died together with the dynasty, it matters not where burial occurs!”

The bundle flew outward.

Everyone raised their heads in unison, watching the brocade bundle embroidered with flying dragons and dancing phoenixes trace a golden arc through the air, falling toward the cliff beyond the dense forest with a heart-stopping trajectory.

The youth’s brow lifted as he swiftly shouted: “Block it!”

Immediately someone sprang up. The man, however, flew forward, charging straight toward the youth, mid-air hand grasping, cold light blazing, powerful wind howling as it split toward the youth’s crown.

Everyone cried out in alarm and hurried to turn back, no longer minded pursuing that bundle. Yet the man, just as he was about to pounce before the youth, suddenly laughed long and loud: “Xue Futu shares survival and death with the dynasty—we dare not live even one moment longer!”

His hand swept up that mass of bloody flesh with an unrecognizable face from the ground. His form twisted, charging toward the cliff below even faster than that bundle.

No one had expected that after fleeing ten thousand miles in utter exhaustion, he would still possess such speed. For a moment, none could catch him. Seeing him abandon his attack on their master, everyone in mid-air released a long breath.

Unexpectedly, sudden change arose!

“Boom!”

In the gray and misty heaven and earth, brilliant colors suddenly burst forth. A dark gold flower bloomed in mid-air. The enormous blast wave激飞 the continuous rain threads penetrating through the forest, raining down a garish, terrifying rain of tragic blood and flesh.

Within a spreading dark black, bright red bloody mist, that child of golden honor and jade nobility who stood directly in its path soundlessly fell.

Cries of alarm from all sides seemed about to congeal!

After a long while, some pale red fragments of flesh slid soundlessly down from leaf tips, instantly accumulating in a pile at people’s feet. This was the final remains of the Xue Futu guard who had just been thrown before the youth.

Just now, the man had seemed to pick up the corpse and leave, yet at the moment when enemies were least on guard, he detonated explosives hidden within the corpse.

Fabric rustled with wind sounds. Everyone rushed toward their master whose life or death was unknown as he lay on the ground.

Yet a sorrowful long laugh rang out from within the still-undispersed gunsmoke.

“With my already-dead Xue Futu body, still able to exchange for one worthless life of a traitorous minister and rebellious son—Third Brother, you can close your eyes in peace!”

Mid-air, the blood-soaked black-clothed man gazed fixedly at that pile below that could no longer be identified as anything, his eyes pained yet gratified.

All Xue Futu high-ranking members had a thunder bomb explosive device within their bodies, used at the final moment to perish together with enemies. The long-trained Xue Futu possessed extraordinary skills both in preserving life when facing enemies and in killing. Throughout the pursuit, everyone had long known there might come a day when they encountered important enemy figures, and their own corpses might very likely be used to shake their own side’s morale. Therefore, even when besieged unto death, they all very tacitly chose not to self-detonate, saving it for this final opportunity.

Already dead in body, why fear again discarding this flesh and blood husk? Taking it to drag along a sacrificial companion was good too.

The man’s gaze swept once across, no longer lingering, crying out long and loud.

The cry like a dark dragon flew leaping and shuttling through the deep dense forest, shaking dewdrops on leaves to roll down crystalline and bright, like a hero’s final tear.

The crowd surrounding the youth were startled by the cry, turning back in alarm.

They only saw a blood-stained black hem of garment flying swiftly down, vanishing at the dark green cliff edge.

Everyone stared blankly, their faces dyed pale by the sorrowful hazy moonlight. Watching that garment hem disappear into the dark dim cliff below, everyone could not help but exhale a long breath.

In their gazes, traces of melancholy and confusion slowly seeped forth.

Seeing him build high towers, seeing him feast guests, seeing him… the towers collapse.

Six hundred years of flourishing splendor and golden powder, one hundred thousand miles of brocade rivers and mountains, once breaking the flow with a whip, once all nations coming to court, once imposing authority over all under heaven, once all four seas prostrate in submission… all the proud possessions belonging to the brilliant and magnificent Great Cheng dynasty.

From this moment…

Finally changed masters.

In the sixteenth year of Heguang, after a national fortune spanning six hundred years, the Great Cheng dynasty that had reached the heights of prosperity—collapsed.

Upon the broken tiles and waste ruins of golden palaces and jade towers, upon mountains of corpses and seas of blood of the previous dynasty’s imperial clan.

The Tiansheng dynasty—arose.