The World-Purifying Demon-Sealing Great Array operated stably, the Green Lotus imprint slowly rotating in the void depths, continuously purifying the Demonic Lord's final residual echo. The grand hall was filled with peaceful pure spiritual energy. Outside, the demonic clouds over the Ten Thousand Poison Swamp scattered completely. Long-lost sunlight illuminated the earth. Earth-shaking cheers of allied cultivators surviving calamity came from the Thorny Great Wall.
Victory.
This battle that had lasted a hundred years, dragging the entire cultivation world to the edge of the abyss, finally concluded with the Demonic Lord's execution and the complete scattering of demonic energy. Heaven and earth returned to clarity. The righteous path continued. All beings were spared from slaughter.
However, at this victory moment destined to be recorded in history, at the core of the Demon Palace's grand hall, that young hero who single-handedly created this miracle felt not a hint of joy.
Tang Xiaoqi slowly descended from hovering, feet stepping on the cold but purified clean ground. The glass-like green light flowing on his body gradually drew inward, revealing the young face beneath filled with endless exhaustion and sorrow.
His gaze first landed on that void where his father Xu Zhan had finally dissipated. There was nothing there, only a trace of imperceptible warm thought seemingly remaining in the air—that was the final blessing and expectation his father left him before soul scattering. A hundred years of seeking, father and son reunited so briefly. He couldn't even touch his father, couldn't hear his father call him "Xiao Qi" one more time. Ultimately he could only watch helplessly as those dots of soul light merged into heaven and earth, never to reincarnate. That bone-deep sense of loss, like the coldest abyss, swallowed any warmth that had just risen in his heart.
His sight shifted slightly. He saw that half of the Nirvana Crimson Flame Sword fallen to one side. The sword's break was dull and lusterless. The dragon and phoenix patterns that once flowed with heat had completely stilled, their spirituality lost. This sword that had accompanied his growth, been reforged, connected with his heart and mind as a life-bound artifact, in the final duel with the Demonic Lord, to fight for that crucial moment for him, resolutely broke, like a loyal comrade burning itself out. He crouched down, trembling extending his hand, gently stroking that cold break. The sensation from his fingertips made his heart spasm.
Beside it lay that wok covered with spiderweb cracks, its spirituality greatly lost, lying on the ground like ordinary iron. This seemingly ordinary wok had saved him countless times in danger, carrying many memories he didn't want to mention but couldn't forget. Now, it quietly lay there, no longer with its former miraculous nature, as if also silently telling of this victory's ferocity.
His gaze swept across the hall.
In the corner, Third Senior Sister Liu Yun's breath was weak, her black hair turned completely white, her face ashen. Her life flame was like a candle in the wind, barely maintained only by Mu Xue continuously channeling vitality spiritual energy. Her self-sacrificing sword strike burned out her essence blood and sword soul, severing the chains binding father, but also almost severing all her own vitality. Whether she could recover was unknown.
Zhao Tiezhu was covered in wounds. That furnace-like qi and blood was also much dimmed. He guarded Liu Yun's side. This rough man's eyes were now also bloodshot with grief.
Crown Prince Ao Qin's dragon scales were damaged, his breath unstable, clearly having consumed greatly.
Second Senior Brother Luo Feng's soul body was even weaker. The puppet shell he resided in had dim spiritual light, needing long-term nurturing to recover.
And Aunt Su... that family member who also dissipated in the demonic energy aftermath to save him, to awaken his father...
Every companion was covered in wounds, having paid a huge price.
And the originator of all this—that Demonic Lord who rampaged for a hundred years, causing countless tragedies, although executed, father could never return, Third Senior Sister was heavily injured and near death, the Crimson Flame Sword broken, the wok damaged...
This victory was built with the lives of loved ones, with companions' blood, with irretrievable losses, forcibly piled up!
The heavy price weighed on Xiao Qi's heart like a mountain, completely crushing the faint light belonging to victory that had just risen.
He slowly straightened up, looking around at this purified empty but particularly desolate hall, watching his companions' exhausted injured figures, feeling that vast power merged with the Green Lotus within him that couldn't bring any warmth.
Won.
But... why does the heart hurt so much? Feel so empty?
An ineffable huge sorrow and emptiness, like cold tide, instantly washed away his always-taut will dam.
He didn't wail loudly, didn't become hysterical.
Just quietly stood there, raising his head, gazing at that hall ceiling revealed after purification, leading who knows where.
Two lines of scalding tears, without warning, silently slid down his cheeks.
Tears blurred his vision but couldn't wash away the deep pain in his heart.
Hero's tears, not shed for victory, only for that irretrievable loss, for that heavy... price.
Sunlight through unknown gaps, dappled on him, illuminating those silent tear tracks on his face crystalline, but couldn't shine into his heart now filled with sorrow.
The hall was silent. Only that newborn World-Purifying Demon-Sealing Great Array in the void depths made imperceptible operation sounds, as if playing a soundless elegy for this victory, also for the sacrifices behind this victory.