The celebration's clamor still rang in the ears, the warmth of celebration not yet dissipated, but Tianshu City had quietly changed to a solemn appearance. The glazed tiles and spirit lamps that were flowing with light yesterday were all covered with a layer of plain white today. The fluttering flags of all tribes were put away, replaced by white soul-summoning banners covering mountains and plains, silently swaying in the cool morning breeze like countless silently standing mourners.
In the city center, the central square that held the grand celebration yesterday had been overnight arranged into a solemn memorial ceremony ground. A nine-layer high altar made of black giant stones, with three hundred sixty-five eternal lamps placed around the altar according to the number of stars in the sky, their flames leaping, illuminating a bronze giant tripod ten zhang high at the altar's center. The tripod body was covered with densely packed, tiny-as-fly-head names—that was the list of cultivators and important contributors who sacrificed in this demonic calamity that the alliance spent great effort to collect. Behind the giant tripod was a huge, mirror-smooth "Nameless Hero Soul Monument" to memorialize those whose bodies were lost, whose names were never left behind.
The early sun rose, but had no warmth. The sky was that washed kind, carrying a faint sadness of blue-gray. Representatives from all Three Realms tribes, all wearing plain clothes, with grave expressions, silently gathered on the square, standing in specific positions. There were more people than at yesterday's celebration, yet it was so quiet one could hear the wind blowing through banners' rustling, and each other's suppressed breathing. The air was filled with sandalwood, the special scent of burning spirit paper, and a heavy thing called "sorrow" pressing on everyone's heart.
Tang Xiaoqi today changed into a black dao robe without any patterns, his long hair tied with a simple wooden hairpin. He stood at the very front of the altar, his posture straight as a pine, his face calm, only those deep eyes carrying ineffable grief and remembrance. Mu Xue, Eldest Senior Brother, Third Senior Sister, Zhao Tiezhu, Ao Qin and others all wore plain clothes, standing behind him. Second Senior Brother Luo Feng's soul body also temporarily stopped calculations in the puppet core, quietly floating, as if also mourning.
The auspicious time arrived. Instead of festive bells, a heavy distant horn sound as if from the netherworld broke the sky's silence. The horn sound fell, all was quiet.
Tang Xiaoqi slowly stepped forward three steps, facing that giant tripod bearing countless hero souls' names and the nameless monument, deeply bowing three times. He didn't immediately speak, but was silent for a moment, as if gathering strength, or as if conducting soundless communication with those countless departed heroic souls.
When he raised his head, his voice was not loud, but clearly, steadily entered every being's soul depths present, carrying a comforting power, also carrying unquestionable solemnity.
"Heaven and earth mysterious and yellow, universe vast and boundless." He began, his voice echoing in the empty square. "Today, we gather here, not to celebrate merit, not to praise virtue, only to memorialize, only to console."
"The demonic calamity suddenly descended, the Three Realms overturned. Evil demons came from beyond the realm, carrying overwhelming evil intent, wanting to devour our home, enslave our beings. Beacon fires burned across mountains and rivers, blood and tears soaked the earth. All beings cried blood, sun and moon mourned together."
His words pulled everyone's thoughts back to that dark and tragic era. On the square, many veterans who experienced bloody battles closed their eyes, their bodies slightly trembling, as if seeing comrades fall beside them again, seeing demonic beasts' ferocious claws and teeth, seeing that sky dyed pitch-black by demonic energy.
"However, in times of crisis, there was never a lack of spines who stepped forward!" Xiao Qi's voice suddenly rose, carrying a metal-and-stone-like resonance. "There were predecessor sages, like my master Xuanlun, to protect the sect, block the demonic front, at Qingxu Temple's mountain gate, drawing star power, burning divine soul as sacrifice, soul returning to heaven and earth, glory illuminating eternity!"
Mentioning his master, Xiao Qi's voice had an almost imperceptible tremor, but he quickly steadied. Third Senior Sister Liu Yun behind him bit her lip hard, her eyes instantly reddening.
"There were bloody warriors, like thousands of allied sons, at watchtowers, at the Thorny Great Wall, at the demon lair depths, sacrificing their lives forgetting death, one after another. Swords broken, blocking with arms; spells exhausted, filling with bodies! Loyal hearts dyed red ten thousand miles of mountains and rivers! Their names may be carved on the tripod, may have returned to namelessness, but their heroic souls, exist with the world!"
Sobs began to come from the crowd—that was the grief of those who lost relatives, teachers, dao companions, close friends, no longer able to suppress.
"And there were..." Xiao Qi's voice lowered, carrying a complex emotion. His gaze looked toward the void, as if penetrating time and space, seeing that figure wrapped in demonic energy, finally choosing to sacrifice himself. "...like Xu Zhan, my father. Trapped in the demon palm, divine soul controlled, yet his heart didn't die, his will wasn't destroyed. At the final moment, reversing demonic essence, at the cost of soul scattering, heavily wounding the Demonic Lord, winning a chance at life for us... His actions pitiable, his circumstances tragic, his will, illuminating the sun and moon!"
He finally mentioned his father Xu Zhan. Without impassioned rhetoric, only deep grief and a trace of relief. This matter was no longer a secret among high levels, but being personally mentioned by Xiao Qi in such a setting was undoubtedly officially vindicating Xu Zhan, acknowledging him as a hero who resisted in a special way and ultimately sacrificed. Aunt Su stood in a relatively forward position in the crowd. Hearing this, tears had long streamed down her face, but her eyes showed a kind of liberation and relief.
"Today, the demon lair destroyed, the Demonic Lord retreated, the Three Realms restored." Xiao Qi's voice returned to steady, but carried heavier power. "This victory didn't come from nothing. It was paved with countless heroes' bones, watered by thousands of loyal souls' blood! This peaceful prosperous scene, every inch, condenses their lives and hopes!"
He turned around, facing the countless solemn figures below, his gaze slowly sweeping across every grief-stricken or determined face.
"We survivors, standing here, bathed in sunlight, breathing free air. On our shoulders, we carry not only future hope, but also the unfulfilled wishes and heavy entrustment of the departed! Today's memorial is not to wallow in sorrow, but to remember! Remember this painful lesson, remember the weight of this sacrifice!"
He turned to the altar again, both hands slowly raising, forming an ancient and complex seal. With his movement, all three hundred sixty-five eternal lamps' flames on the altar suddenly shot up high, radiating soft and holy white light.
"Please, heroic souls return, hear our thoughts, witness our oath!"
His words fell. Xiao Qi's whole body Green Lotus origin power silently surged, merging with the altar array and eternal lamp flames. A vast, pure will field carrying endless compassion and comfort, centered on the altar, like water waves gently spreading out, enveloping the entire square, even spreading toward more distant sky, earth, mountains and rivers.
In this will field, everyone seemed to feel a strange connection. They seemed to hear distant familiar shouts and entrustments coming from the wind, could feel weak fluctuations from heroic souls sleeping in the earth beneath their feet. That wasn't ghost manifestation, but a spiritual-level resonance and consolation.
Mu Xue stepped forward, beginning to chant ancient scriptures for delivering the departed with Xuanji Holy Land's characteristic clear and ethereal tone. Her voice was like clear springs from melted snow on mountains, washing away grief, guiding peace.
Immediately after, Master Huiming from the Western Desert Buddhist Sect led hundreds of monks, chanting in unison. Solemn compassionate Buddha names resounded through the clouds. Golden Buddha light and the Green Lotus's white light intertwined, together constructing a peaceful and sacred domain.
Then, the dragon race played deep and desolate ancient dragon chants, the demon race sang distant simple soul-summoning ancient songs, the sea race harmonized with ethereal mermaid songs... All Three Realms tribes, using their most ancient and sacred ways, participated in this grand memorial together.
Tang Xiaoqi didn't speak more. He closed his eyes, fully guiding Green Lotus power, gathering everyone's grief, gratitude, promises and blessings into a majestic and pure spiritual torrent, surging toward the heroic souls' resting place in the unknown. He was telling those departed lives in his own way: You haven't been forgotten, your sacrifices were worthwhile, the world you protected, we will take over and continue protecting!
The memorial ceremony lasted an entire morning. When the final chants and ancient songs fell, when the sun rose to mid-heaven, that tragic solemn atmosphere covering the entire field gradually transformed into a precipitated determination and power.
Many wiped away tears. Their eyes no longer held only grief, but added a share of responsibility and determination. They looked at that black figure on the altar, looked at those companions behind him who also experienced blood and fire baptism, and the path forward in their hearts seemed clearer.
The joy of victory had been diluted by this solemn memorial, but it hadn't disappeared. Instead, it transformed into an even deeper, more enduring power—a power of remembering history, revering sacrifice, courageously shouldering responsibility.
Tang Xiaoqi slowly withdrew the seal, opened his eyes, looking toward the much clearer sky, lightly exhaling a breath of turbid air.
The memorial was for better progress. And their road was indeed still very long. But after this spiritual baptism today, this Three Realms allied force surviving calamity, its cohesion and faith would surely reach an unprecedented height. This was perhaps the best consolation for the heroic souls.