263 Silent Tears
263 Silent Tears
I slaughtered them all. Well, not every last one, but a good portion lay broken and charred across the snow-dusted ridges. Their corpses were strewn like abandoned dolls, their weapons bent into grotesque shapes, and the stench of smoldering flesh lingered beneath the thin curtain of snowfall. The ridges where moments ago had been teeming with disciplined ranks now stood silent, their echoing shouts gone. I lowered Soulsunderer and exhaled, half considering whether it was time to drag Tao Long back here with Castling.
The thought never finished.
The sky pulsed. It was as though the heavens themselves rippled like disturbed water, shuddering under the weight of a presence that should not be. A shadow burst forth, twisting and bleeding into shape… nine great tails unfurled, distorted features clawing through the light. The monstrous fox loomed, its outline fractured between flesh and illusion, until the body shrank and reformed into a familiar figure I had once punted unceremoniously to the Great Universe. Jia Sen. The old bastard stood with that same smug composure, as if death itself found him beneath notice.
“No need to be alarmed,” Jia Sen’s voice carried smooth as silk, his smile unshaken. “I just want to talk.”
I narrowed my eyes, dangerous weight behind every word. “You’re too late. I practically decimated your army.”
“Indeed,” he replied with a lighthearted gleam, as though amused by my declaration. “I am late. I can’t help it. The distance between the Empire and here is quite… vast…”
His mockery threaded into my bones, the arrogance unbearable. I hissed through clenched teeth, “What did you do?”
The old fox drifted lightly on the wind, settling onto the ruined earth with elegance. He stopped at a comfortable distance, eyes glittering with predatory playfulness. “Ever heard of the path of least resistance? Where does water flow the easiest? Where the smallest efforts yield the greatest results?”
My blood ran cold, yet I asked as if to confirm. “Like… inciting a civil war within the Empire?”
“Ah…” His lips curved in approval. “You are well informed.”
Jia Sen’s laughter broke through my musings, sharp and biting. He spread his arms, nine ghostly tails unfurling once more, their tips splitting into distorted faces of foxes, each grinning with hunger. “The Heavenly Temple could have crushed the Empire under their boot at any moment,” he said with a gleeful snarl. “But they didn’t. Because they didn’t deserve it.”
“And what about me?” My voice echoed, thick with fury. “Do I deserve the boot?”
His smile hardened, edges cruel, eyes flashing with a predator’s promise. “I am the boot.” The nine tails flared wide, fox-faces opening their maws in silent screams. His presence pressed against me, as oppressive as the heavens themselves. “And the Arch Gate is mine!”
I’ve learned a lot in my time in the False Earth. From governance and its maddening intricacies to the cold precision of science, from martial arts that honed my body into a blade to the discipline of formation arrays that carved order into chaos…
I laughed at him, sharp and biting. “No, it doesn’t belong to you. It doesn’t belong to anyone.”
He sneered, confident in his claim. “You think you can deny me? Do you even understand what the Arch Gate represents?”
“I understand plenty,” I snapped back, heat curling through my words. “Enough to know you’re just another parasite thinking you can stake a claim on what was never yours. The Arch Gate isn’t a throne, it isn’t a prize… It’s a big fucking responsibility. And I’d rather shatter it than let you take advantage of it.”
As my words left me, the ground trembled beneath our feet. The formation array I had painstakingly embedded onto the Arch Gate began to stir, lines of ancient script flaring alive in blinding sequence. A resonance split the air, tearing through the storm above. The dark clouds recoiled as if seared, parting to reveal the heavens themselves.
From that wound in the sky, a golden brilliance surged forth. A sword vast as eternity descended, its edge sharper than law, its weight heavier than destiny. It pierced through the clouds and fell upon the Arch Gate with divine inevitability. The ancient structure shuddered once, twice, before erupting.
Light consumed everything. The Arch Gate exploded into a colossal pillar, so bright it scorched my eyes and burned shadows into the earth. Its brilliance devoured even the nine writhing tails, the fox-faces shrieking soundlessly as the golden sword swallowed the gate whole. The sound was not thunder, not fire… It was judgment made manifest.
Jia Sen’s composure was shattered. His voice, once calm, now tore from his throat in desperation. “NO!”
I didn’t linger.
Even as the pillar of light threatened to blind and consume all in its radius, I moved. Divine Speed burst through my veins, Zealot’s Stride carried me forward, and Flash Step tore me across the battlefield like a phantom. I ran…
I zipped through the air, each stride tearing the distance beneath me. My senses tracked the chaos behind, watching from afar as the mountain split open with the Arch Gate at its center, bursting apart in a storm of divine light. For a heartbeat, I thought it was over. Then the world grew heavy. An oppressive weight pressed on my chest, a suffocating gravity that bent the air itself.
A [Level 20] Ascended Soul.
The pressure nearly froze me in place. Suddenly, space distorted, and a monstrous fox appeared above me, blotting out the sky. Its nine tails lashed like spears, each one thicker than a pillar, dripping with a killing intent that set the forest ablaze with its mere presence.
Jia Sen’s voice thundered, seething with fury. “Do you know what you have done!? The elders might kill me for this!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, letting the sound echo as I darted through the canopy. “Serves you right!”
The first tail slammed down like a mountain. I twisted, darting aside in a zigzag, then dove under the cover of vegetation. Roots split and soil exploded behind me as another tail skewered the ground where I had been. His attacks didn’t stop. The air howled as tails whipped forth, each strike an execution. I moved faster, slipping between the strikes, weaving under branches and stones, letting the terrain become my shield.
I spat back in Qi Speech, every word a taunt. “Remember the last time? I cut off one of your tails. Aren’t you scared I might do the same? Hey, you haven’t asked me about your daughter yet. Man, that’s cold even for family.”
The fox’s eyes burned with malice, its laughter thick with rage. Jia Sen’s reply was venomous, “It was a fluke! Come out, Da Wei, and I will show you what true might is!”
My heart raced, but I forced calm. He wanted me to reveal myself, to match his fury with recklessness. Instead, I clung to the shadows of the forest, moving at super speed while alternately tweaking my Spiritual Pressure. Each shift threw him off, painting a dozen false images of me across the battlefield. His senses raked at illusions while I melted deeper into cover, every step calculated.
Finally, I stopped. My hand reached into my Item Box and drew out a vial of Da Ji’s blood. Without hesitation, I poured it over Soulsunderer. The blade drank greedily, the crimson vanishing into its steel with a hiss that echoed like whispers in my soul. The sword pulsed, eager and hungry.
I took my stance. My lungs filled with one deep breath. My mind sharpened into a blade finer than steel. Then I moved. Divine Speed surged through me, Zealot’s Stride burned in my veins, and Flash Step shattered the air beneath my feet as I burst forth like lightning.
The forest split as I swung. Thunder roared in unison with my strike, holy radiance coating my blade as I unleashed Thunderous Smite. Soulsunderer screamed in joy, and the edge cleaved through the storm of tails.
Jia Sen tried to withdraw his attack, parrying with one tail instead.
That one tail was nearly severed… And it shrieked with a voice of its own, the fox face upon it wailing in agony. Its cries were sharp, pitiful, almost human. The sound clawed at my soul, but I did not falter.
Jia Sen’s roar split the sky, shaking the very marrow of my bones. “How!?”
I lifted Soulsunderer, the edge still dripping with divine ichor from his wounded tail. With a calmness that made my own lips curl, I retrieved another vial from my Item Box and poured the blood along the blade. The steel shivered as though alive, drinking every drop until its glow darkened into something ravenous.
“It’s the blood of your Immortal Ancestor,” I said, my tone almost kind, as though explaining something to a stubborn beast. “You mangy mutt.”
His tails thrashed and then stilled, mending before my eyes. But the healing was worse than the injury. One by one, each tail detached from his body, falling to the ground only to morph into separate forms. In moments, I was surrounded by ten giant foxes, each with a single tail and their own burning eyes. Their presence was suffocating… every one of them carrying the strength of a [Level 15] Ascended Soul.
They circled me, their fangs bared, snapping with the hunger of predators that wanted not just my flesh, but my essence. I dodged, slipped between jaws, and narrowly avoided claws that gouged the earth like plows tearing soil. Each strike I evaded left me one heartbeat closer to being overwhelmed.
I summoned and raised my tower shield, World Aegis, and met the brunt of their strikes. I tried to slash at them, but they would suddenly transform into mist. The impact of their bites and attacks rattled my bones. I defended left, but then was struck from the right. I blocked high, only to feel the ground erupt beneath me from another fox’s lunge. It was relentless. Even so, I forced my mind to stay sharp, not on their brute strength, but on Jia Sen. His movements above, the flickers of his will spread across these bodies. I studied him, watching for his patterns and tracing his presence.
Jia Sen’s laughter filled the air, cold and triumphant. “So this is all you amount to? Dodging, hiding behind your little toys? You are nothing more than a rat, Da Wei. A noisy, pathetic rat.”
I summoned the Shield of the Eternal, its golden light layering over World Aegis. When a fox lunged, I met it with Flash Parry, the blade of my sword sparking against its teeth. The fox turned to mist. Another closed in, only to be staggered by a Shield Bash that sent it crashing into a tree with a thunderous crack. For two minutes, I endured. Every strike, every dodge, and every breath stolen from the jaws of death.
I knew I could extend this dance. If I leaned on resurrection, if I gambled with the techniques that let me crawl back from nothing, I could last longer. But that wasn’t the point. I had already seen enough. Jia Sen’s strength, his arrogance, and his methods. They were etched into my mind. That was the real victory.
I chuckled, even as sweat dripped from my brow and my shield quivered in my grip. “Thanks for the lesson. The next time, it’ll be you facing a beating.”
Jia Sen’s voice slithered across the battlefield, everywhere at once, the foxes snapping in unison. “Arrogant to the end. Die here, Da Wei!”
The foxes lunged, a storm of fur and fangs collapsing on me. I drew in a final breath, summoned every shred of will, and cast Egress. The world tore open, light consuming me as reality folded away.
When it cleared, I was back in my office in New Willow.
The return to New Willow was abrupt, my body still thrumming with the echo of Jia Sen’s fury. One moment, there had been snapping jaws and searing light; the next, I was standing in the stillness of my office. My hands trembled faintly on Soulsunderer’s hilt, though I forced myself to look composed as Alice rose from her chair. Her gaze searched me, sharp and steady, though I caught the flicker of worry behind it.
“How did it go?” she asked.
I let out a slow breath, shaking my head. “Jia Sen appeared. And it seems he’s had a hand in the Empire’s civil war.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but before she could respond, Tao Long stirred. He had been sitting in the corner, and when he stood, I almost didn’t recognize him. The man before me was a shadow of the noble dragon I had first met. His robes hung in tatters, strips of cloth clinging to him more out of pity than form. Scars crisscrossed his arms and chest, harsh reminders of wounds that had never truly healed. His once-proud spear leaned against the wall nearby, its edge still sharp but its haft stained with crusted blood and grime, a weapon that had seen too many battles without rest.
“What happened?” Tao Long asked, his voice hoarse, as though every word scraped his throat raw.
I studied him for a moment, the weight of truth heavy on my tongue. Part of me wanted to shield him from it, but there was no kindness in hiding what I had done. He deserved to know.
“I destroyed the Arch Gate,” I said at last.
The effect was immediate. His eyes widened in horror, his whole frame stiffening as if struck by lightning. That shock lingered only for a breath before it gave way to something far more cutting. Remorse shadowed his features, his lips trembling though he forced them shut, and then… without a word… silent tears streamed down his face. I felt the bitter edge of guilt press against me. Tao Long had lost more than battles. He had lost the very ideal that bound his suffering together.
Outside, the heavens opened, and rain began to fall.