The Weight of a False Farewell

A drenching downpour fell from the heavens. In the midst of it stood a scholar in white robes, utterly out of place with everything around him.

It was Zhuge Yuan. The Zhuge Yuan who had once died. The Zhuge Yuan whom Li Huowang had re-forged using the spine sword.

Zhuge Yuan swept his gaze across the scene and immediately understood what had happened. Gripping his long-handled brush, he lightly touched the red—just a brushstroke—then clenched his fingers and slashed sharply toward the Chicken-Feet Men before him.

In that moment, the brush in Zhuge Yuan’s hand might as well have been the Judge’s Brush of the underworld. Wherever it touched, Chicken-Feet Men collapsed to the ground without a sound. The incense in the censers was snuffed out in an instant, never to be lit again.

Zhuge Yuan turned to face Li Huowang. “Brother Li. It has been a long time. I trust you have been well?”

Li Huowang’s head felt as if it were splitting open. At those words, his pain-twisted face twitched—he almost tried to smile. But then he caught himself, and his expression crumpled again as he bent over in agony.

He had to get this straight. This thing looked like Zhuge Yuan, but it wasn’t him. It was only something he had Cultivated into existence through his own True cultivation.

He had achieved the Great Completion of True Cultivation now. He could use the spine sword to Cultivate Zhuge Yuan back into being. But Cultivation was Cultivation. This was false, in the end. Zhuge Yuan was dead. He had to face that reality.

He had Cultivated this false Zhuge Yuan to use as a tool. Nothing more. Just like Peng Longteng! He could not transfer the feelings he had for the real Zhuge Yuan onto this counterfeit.

He tried to separate true from false. But the instant Li Huowang thought this, Zhuge Yuan’s body began to collapse at speed, about to retreat back into the spine sword.

Things Cultivated into being existed or did not exist depending entirely on Li Huowang’s thought. He could not afford to make the distinction too cleanly. If he did not, deep in his heart, believe that the man before him was real, then Zhuge Yuan simply could not be Cultivated into existence.

Zhuge Yuan saw the catch and warned him at once. “Brother Li. Whether I am false or not… if you truly decide I am false, then by definition I will not exist.”

Li Huowang let out a roar of agony. He jerked his head up, and through tear-filled eyes, he looked at the Zhuge Yuan before him.

The body that had just been collapsing stabilized once more. Zhuge Yuan stood before Li Huowang again.

Looking at that familiar face, Li Huowang stretched out a trembling finger and pointed toward the enemies all around.

“Help me. Help me kill them. Kill them all! ”

Zhuge Yuan nodded lightly. When he turned back around, he began to swing his brush again.

In the heavy rain, the Chicken-Feet Men fell like wheat before a scythe. They quickly realized something was wrong.

With one silent accord, they converged on Li Huowang from all directions. They did not attack the overwhelmingly powerful Zhuge Yuan; they targeted the man kneeling in agony—Li Huowang.

They had clearly witnessed his True Cultivation just now. They understood the causal link between them.

But with Zhuge Yuan standing guard, they were overestimating themselves. They could not get anywhere near Li Huowang.

With Zhuge Yuan’s arrival, it seemed the battle was already decided.

The Chicken-Feet Men tried to fight back. They tried every trick they could think of. But Zhuge Yuan countered each one. The gap in strength was simply too vast.

Faced with Zhuge Yuan’s power, the Chicken-Feet Men were clearly outmatched. Brushstroke by brushstroke, the remaining enemies vanished. The incense smoke scattered through the air, and not a single wisp of white smoke drifted toward the white bamboo hat anymore.

The rain fell. The altar was slick with blood. Zhuge Yuan stood alone in the center of it all, holding his sword. The area around him fell silent.

“Brother Li. Let go. I am the false Zhuge Yuan. The real one is dead.”

Hearing this, Li Huowang, still clutching his head in the downpour, stumbled and fell. He collapsed face-first into the rain, gasping for air.

Every moment he maintained Zhuge Yuan’s existence was agony. His entire skull felt as if it were about to explode.

Without Li Huowang’s support, Zhuge Yuan’s body began to dissolve at speed. He looked at Li Huowang and spoke slowly. “Brother Li. May I ask you one more thing? Was Da Qi truly saved?”

When he saw Li Huowang give a slight nod, a look of satisfaction settled on Zhuge Yuan’s face. Then he reverted to the spine sword, which stabbed obliquely into the ground.

“Dad.” Li Sui, having manifested, crawled over and used her tentacles to help Li Huowang upright from every angle. “Dad, don’t be scared. Your head is still there. Your head is still there.”

Li Huowang had no time to talk to Li Sui. He stood up and swept his gaze across the battlefield.

The altar was littered with the bodies of Chicken-Feet Men. Most of them were dead. Even the survivors were quickly catching up to their comrades under the pursuit of Zhao Jiabao and the others.

Throughout the entire wooden city, rain from above and blood from below intermingled. The fortress nestled deep in the mountains had become a city of blood.

Above the thick, muddy layer of blood sat the huge four-legged god-idol, crouched in the city center and draped in red cloth strips.

It looked even more terrifying now, set against the sea of blood. But at least it wasn’t moving anymore. Li Huowang let out a long breath of relief.

Even so, he did not let his guard down. He turned to Zhao Jiabao and gave the order. “Spread everyone out. Tear this whole city apart, inside and out. Anything that’s still alive—finish it. Leave no one.”

This was exactly the moment to be most cautious. The outcome of the fight against the Fa Sect hung in the balance. Li Huowang dared not take any chances.

He even tried to struggle to his feet and join them. But his head felt like it was about to explode, and his body would not allow it.

Zhuge Yuan was a Heart-Pan. The energy needed to Cultivate him into being was immense. Even with the spine sword, forcing Zhuge Yuan into existence through True Cultivation was barely sustainable.

“Xuanpin! Xuanpin, come out here!” Li Huowang’s tone was deeply hostile. But the Xuanpin apparition that had always appeared beside him at a moment’s notice did not show up this time.

“Xuanpin! Get the hell out here!” Li Huowang screamed into the rain. Still nothing.

“You think hiding will save you? Just wait. Wait until I get back. You will give me an explanation.” Li Huowang added a silent curse in his heart.

When his head felt slightly better, Li Huowang stood up and walked to the left, looking at the blood that was slowly seeping out from under the windows.

Earlier, there seemed to be other people in this city besides the Chicken-Feet Men. Hard to say what they were doing here.

But that was earlier. Now there was no one.

Li Huowang looked up again at the god-idol, as vast as a mountain in the rain. Seeing no sign of movement, he turned his gaze to the rotating light mirror inside the mirror.

“That should put an end to the Fa Sect’s tricks, shouldn’t it?”

That was what he thought. But when he saw what was happening on the rotating light mirror, Li Huowang’s pupils shrank to pinpricks.

On the mirror, the dense mass of red dots that should have been the Militarist camp looked as if something had taken a huge bite out of it. Something had forcibly torn away a massive chunk.