Chapter 58: The Noble Passion of the Humble

“Boy, do you understand how much a woman’s reputation means to her? I may not be able to kill her, but ruining her reputation is as easy as turning my hand!” Xiao Wuxing remained as cautious as ever, his voice still emanating from each grain of sand. As though to add weight to his threat, the sound of tearing fabric echoed through the air.

Wu Yue listened in silence, arms raised as his world of flames expanded outward.

“Do you truly not care? I know this woman means much to you—she has carried you on her back for more than half a month, feeding you countless spirit pills.”

“Heartfire, arise.” Wu Yue spoke indifferently, pressing a finger to his brow. A mass of transparent flames bloomed from him, growing ever larger, threatening to engulf the entire domain of fire.

“What is this fire, Old Twilight?” Bloodshade asked, uneasily. “Just looking at it makes me uncomfortable.”

“How should I know? I’m an assassin, not a mage,” Twilight snapped impatiently, then turned to gaze at Wu Yue with deep affection. “To fly into a rage for the sake of beauty, how romantic.”

“For heaven’s sake, you hopeless romantic,” Bloodshade muttered.

“When you were looking at the Demon King just now, what did I say?”

“What do you know? I was being cautious, that’s all.”

“Well, now I’m being cautious too!”

Zong Shen simply sat cross-legged on the ground, hands resting on his knees, head bowed.

“The royal family raised me for decades and saved my life; I ought to repay them with my own. Later, Song Leizhou saved my life again—I should not favor one at the expense of the other. But now, they are set against each other in bloodshed. What should I do? Did I choose wrongly? If I had known it would come to this, I’d rather have died.”

“Young man, what are you thinking?” Bone Nether sat down opposite Zong Shen, smiling. “Go on, tell me about that young man. I suspect you know him.”

“I do.” Zong Shen lifted his head, resolution forming in his heart. “I know him. His name is Wu Yue, and he is very strong—immensely strong.” He said nothing more.

“Very strong. Immensely strong,” Bone Nether echoed.

Tuoba Yu’s face was expressionless as he focused on repairing his great bow. No matter how turbulent his heart, nothing settled him more than the feel of a bow in his hands. Only the battle itself mattered.

Those behind him were much the same. Even if shocked, they showed no fear. The Tuoba clan had never feared death.

Song Leizhou stood tall like an ancient pine. Though he was not from the Lord God’s realm and did not fully understand such beings, years of leading troops and now advancing to the level of a grandmaster in martial arts had long since placed him beyond life and death. His heart was as calm as still water.

“Jiuyou, do you remember the Book of the Undead? Would you like to resurrect those from our team who died for your sake?” A tiny grain of sand whispered temptingly in Jiuyou’s ear, “But I need a powerful soul.”

Jiuyou couldn’t help but turn to look at the Sandman. The Sandman remained motionless, red light flickering in his eyes.

The demigod Ashura muttered under his breath, while the paladins behind him stood as motionless as marble statues, betraying nothing.

“This boy has lost his mind,” Zhou Zhou said with deep disappointment. “If this keeps up, even if he catches that bastard, he’ll pay dearly for it.”

“He’s severely lacking in combat experience!” Zhou Zhou concluded.

Fan Xiaohua pursed her lips. “He still seems really strong to me.”

“No resistance, no collateral damage,” Wu Yue said coolly as the transparent flames surged higher, ready to sweep over everyone, searching them one by one.

“Boy, don’t go too far,” the Sandman said coldly.

This drew some strange looks from those present. Everyone else was here in person; only the Sandman was using an avatar.

“Lord Sand Emperor, you’re right! We from the Lord God’s realm are divine envoys! That fellow is just a native,” Xiao Wuxing said hastily. At this point, he’d grab any lifeline he could find.

The Sandman’s red glow flickered as he considered whether to extort something more.

Suddenly, a scream shattered the air. The flames had now filled the heavens and earth, and as Xiao Wuxing’s voice rang out, Wu Yue sensed his approximate location.

The fire surged violently.

“Something’s wrong,” Bloodshade said gravely. “Look.” Twilight glanced up, as did many others. Wu Yue’s figure was growing faint and indistinct.

A massive burst of transparent fire exploded outwards. From it leaped a small, thin man. The flames surrounded Xiao Wuxing, consuming everything nearby!

“In this moment, Jiuyou, why do you hesitate!” the Sandman roared. A huge sand-colored disc appeared overhead, and a great beam of sunlight shot toward Wu Yue.

A flicker of complex emotion crossed Jiuyou’s eyes; determination quickly replaced it. His body became a shadow, but instead of attacking Wu Yue, he charged at Xiao Wuxing—for behind him, a woman had appeared: Li Suizhu.

Chaos erupted. The Sandman and Jiuyou acted at once.

“Young master!” someone behind Tuoba Yu called out urgently. They were clearly Wu Yue’s sworn enemies; this was their chance, whether to strike or flee.

“The honor of the Tuoba name must not be stained,” Tuoba Yu declared without hesitation.

“Sis, do we help or not?” Fan Xiaohua asked, a thick book already in her hands. The intense longing in her eyes made her meaning clear.

“Don’t be hasty—the protagonist always appears last. If we don’t let him run out of tricks, how can he appreciate timely help? You can’t give away favors for nothing,” Zhou Zhou replied.

“Lord Ashura?”

“This has nothing to do with us.”

The blazing sunlight hurtled toward Wu Yue, yet he seemed willing to take the blow if it meant saving Li Suizhu.

“Wu Yue, just deal with them,” she called.

Suddenly, Zong Shen, who had almost seemed to vanish, leaped into action, blocking Jiuyou’s way. Even Song Leizhou’s eyes betrayed a hint of surprise. Bone Nether, on the other hand, looked on with approval.

“Those who block me die,” Jiuyou growled.

Zong Shen pulled a long blade from his sleeve, though half of it was already broken.

“I am Tiresias Zong Shen,” he spoke, every word heavy. Killing intent surged as he raised his blade.

“Brothers, wait for me,” Jiuyou cried, desperate. This was his life’s greatest regret. He could neither forget nor forgive himself for the many familiar faces, the trusting eyes, that had fallen beside him.

“I must succeed!” Jiuyou fought with all he had.

“I was an orphan, raised by my teacher. He taught me cultivation, martial arts, and brought me into the Tiresias.”

Zong Shen murmured to himself.

“A man must have faith. My teacher always said, once you join the Tiresias, you bear the weight of the nation.”

Lightning coiled and crackled around Zong Shen, each strike like thunder unleashed.

“A man may live with cunning and ruthlessness, but he must never forget gratitude. Qin has never wronged me—how can I wrong Qin? Today, I shall repay the Li family with my life.” Zong Shen’s blade fell, the force of his strike stretching nine feet.

Jiuyou had not expected such power; though he dodged with all his might, he was too slow. His left arm was severed, but with his right he pressed on, his form splitting into five shadows.

“I have lived and died with shame, for my master, for my friends, for the grace I received.” The blade’s aura swept out, cutting down all five shadows.

“But I have never regretted joining the Tiresias!”

With a sudden roar, Zong Shen slammed his broken blade, wreathed in thunder, down on the Sandman’s great disc.