One of the Saint Emperors roared before charging forward. His right hand gathered true energy, forming a gigantic palm that shot toward Mu Ling, tearing the air apart in a long trail.
But before it could reach her, the sword in her hand moved slightly. A wave of sword light shot out, slicing the giant palm into two along with its owner, whose body froze midair before exploding into a mist of blood.
Two Saint Kings rushed in at the same time. One thrust a flaming sword straight toward her heart while the other swung his blade, creating a violent wave of power. But Mu Ling merely stepped forward slightly. Her sword swept through the air with simple ease. The flaming sword was severed, the blade shattered, and both bodies were split apart before falling to the ground.
Mu Ling slowly raised her sword, her expression devoid of emotion, with only silent tears flowing down.
She swung her sword toward the first lotus surrounding everyone.
Boommmm!!
The explosion shook the entire mountain peak. A massive wave of power swept away everything nearby. The bodies of those who remained were crushed as if ground by an irresistible force. The sound of bones shattering mixed with the explosion before everything suddenly fell silent.
Within only a few breaths, only the Half Emperor remained, severely injured from the explosion. He floated motionless, his body scorched, under the pressure of the remaining eight lotuses.
When the power dissipated, the entire area was left with only corpses and pools of blood. Every remaining member of the Sword Mountain Sect had been completely wiped out.
The voice of the Half Emperor of the Sword Mountain Sect sounded.
"Peak Half Emperor… you… you…"
Rain continued to fall. Droplets struck the blood soaked stone ground, creating faint sounds like the sigh of the world.
Mu Ling raised her sword once more. Her movement was slow and steady like a puppet whose path had already been decided. She swung toward the second lotus. The blade cut through the air in silence. The Half Emperor's head slowly separated from his shoulders, his eyes still wide as if unable to accept reality before his body collapsed to the ground.
The scent of blood still lingered, mixed with the cold mist of rain. The mountain peak that had once been filled with screams and the clash of power was now left with only the steady sound of rain falling to wash away the blood flowing across the range. The peak that had once been full of life had now become a massive graveyard.
Mu Ling stood alone in the sea of blood. Her body was completely still like a statue, with only raindrops flowing along the tip of her sword and falling silently to the ground.
Suddenly, the air all around began to tremble faintly, as if something was moving beyond the laws of heaven and earth. A gentle yet profoundly deep power slowly spread down from the sky. It was neither violent nor oppressive, yet so vast that even the falling rain changed direction.
Above the valley, a soft white light gradually appeared like the birth of dawn. The light carried a strange warmth and stillness. The power it released slowly caused the scent of blood to fade away.
The cracked ground began to tremble. Resources and scattered corpses were gradually wrapped in fine droplets before being cleansed and absorbed by the power of light until they vanished without a trace. The blood that had flooded the valley slowly lifted from the ground as if pulled by an invisible force before transforming into streams of pure clear water.
The sound of flowing water began softly before gradually becoming clearer.
Clear streams gathered at the center of the valley before plunging over the cliff, forming a massive waterfall that shimmered beneath the soft white light. Mist spread through the air like thin fog, reflecting the light into countless sparkling points like stars.
The mountain range that had once been filled with death was now covered with tender green grass that sprouted rapidly. Trees began to grow new leaves. White and blue flowers bloomed across the land. A faint fragrance drifted through the wind, completely replacing the scent of blood.
The sound of the waterfall striking the rocks echoed steadily, bringing a strange sense of peace, as if no tragedy had ever occurred here.
The sky above the valley opened as gray clouds slowly parted. Sunlight shone through the curtain of water, forming a faint rainbow across the air. The entire scene was so beautiful it felt like a dream.
That power continued to permeate the area, gentle yet vast, gradually suppressing even the lingering aura of slaughter until nothing remained, as if someone was using power beyond the limits of the world to cleanse everything.
The Sword Mountain Sect… was gone.
What remained was a mountain range of pure flowing waters so beautiful it was almost unbelievable.
The curtain of the waterfall continued to flow endlessly. The sound of water became the only sound remaining in this place, like a lullaby for the souls of the departed to sleep peacefully.
Mu Ling stood silently, watching the scene before her. The last raindrop slid past her chin before disappearing into the wind. The eyes that had once been empty seemed to tremble slightly as the reflected light of the waterfall reached the deepest part of her heart.
Above the sky, within a special dimension completely severed from the outside world, the entire space was silent as if time had never flowed. The wind did not blow. The clouds did not move. There was only a gray sky that seemed endless.
Zhang Wen stood in the air, his gaze looking down at everything that had just happened as if he were watching a play that had already ended.
There was no joy. No sorrow. Only indifference. Then gentle ripples formed in the space before him.
Mu Ling's figure warped back. Her feet touched the air as if it were ground without weight. The rainbow colored hair that had once been beautiful was now soaked with rain and blood. Her face was pale. Her eyes were empty. Tears continued to fall without stopping.
She stood silently for a moment, like someone who had just awakened from a nightmare. But when her gaze saw the man in white with the black mask before her
That look changed instantly. The emptiness was replaced by extreme anger and disgust.
Killing intent surged wildly. She wanted to kill the person before her no matter the cost, yet her body could not move even slightly.
Some invisible power pressed down on her like hundreds of thousands of mountains. Her voice trembled.
"I… I will kill you… you bastard…"
Tears streamed down her face.
"You took everything from me… my junior brothers and sisters… my family… my master… my lover… everything… you took it all away from me…"
Her voice began to break.
"I swear on my life… I will do anything… anything… to kill you…"
Zhang Wen simply stood still. He did not respond. He showed no expression or reaction. He was like someone listening to the wind passing by.
Mu Ling stared at him with eyes full of hatred. Her voice rose between sobs.
"Why… why… why did you have to kill everyone… I know… I know I was the cause of everything… but they… but they… did nothing wrong…"
Zhang Wen remained silent. By now, he had already taken all the resources of the Sword Mountain Sect, weapons, herbs, spirit stones, the bodies of countless cultivators, and other treasures.
Mu Ling's voice was filled with madness.
"You demon!! Answer me!!"
The gaze beneath the mask was calm and deep like a bottomless well before his voice sounded with indifference.
"Hatred, no matter the reason, has never ended for me through forgiveness alone."
Mu Ling trembled with anger, her teeth clenched tightly.
"Letting go and forgiving is only an option for those who still have the chance to choose."
"But for most people, there is no chance to choose. Pain and hatred are often passed on like fire burning through paper."
"From one person to another. From one generation to the next."
"As long as the source of the fuel of hatred still exists, the fire of hatred will never be extinguished."
His voice was calm, devoid of any emotion. The surroundings fell completely silent, as if the entire world were listening.
"So if you truly want all hatred to end, you must cut its cycle at the origin."
"Not let it grow and hope it will disappear on its own with time."
Mu Ling's breathing trembled as if blood might spill out from sheer anger, yet Zhang Wen's voice remained steady.
"Every time you spare an enemy, you are choosing future pain for yourself, which is simply the slowest form of suicide."
Silence spread. Mu Ling's body trembled slightly, both hands clenched so tightly that blood seeped out.
"In the end, forgiveness is nothing more than deceiving yourself, extending the duration of a false happiness."
"Hatred is not something that fades with time. Time has never healed any wound of the heart. It only makes people grow accustomed to the pain."
Suddenly, Zhang Wen slowly pointed his finger at Mu Ling's crying figure, his gaze beneath the mask devoid of any emotion.