Bai Shuo looked instead at the three unmarked graves behind Rong Xian. “I originally thought that one of these graves might be empty, that you were guarding the tomb of your wife and child for a thousand years. But then I realized… Senior Rong Xian’s seal was placed by the former Kunlun sect leader. If the blood of his loved ones could awaken him and break the seal, then Senior Rong Xian must have been someone deeply bound by loyalty and love. He had debts of gratitude and grudges alike; if he could neither repay his gratitude nor avenge his grievances, how could someone like that have survived all this time? If I’m correct, he perished with Senior Ling Long a thousand years ago, didn’t he? You are not Senior Rong Xian.”
Everyone was stunned by her words. Mu Jiu rubbed his nose. “What nonsense are you spouting, girl? If he isn’t Rong Xian, how could he wield the Kunlun iron sword?”
“He can!” Bai Shuo stared intently at Rong Xian. “If Senior Rong Xian chose the most brutal way to die, then he could!”
“W-What way to die…?”
“There’s an old saying: if one dies by carving out their own Golden Core, the soul will forever remain restless, eternally bound to hell.” Bai Shuo spoke slowly.
The area around the nameless graves fell silent as everyone looked at the white-haired old man.
In the Three Realms, immortals and demons alike would rather destroy their Golden Core in death than have it stolen. If the Golden Core remains, the soul will never find peace.
“He had reached the peak of the immortal lord; who but a god could silently carve out his Golden Core?”
But a god would not do such a thing.
“He did it himself,” Bai Shuo’s statement left the group speechless, barely able to believe it.
“Strange City suppresses all spiritual beings, immortals and demons alike, yet you are unaffected by the spiritual lock array because you are neither immortal nor demon. But the Kunlun iron sword acknowledges only its master. In this world, besides Senior Rong Xian, only his Golden Core could command it.”
“Are you saying that it… it’s…?” Mu Jiu’s eyes widened in shock.
“Senior, you were born from the resentment of Senior Rong Xian—or rather, you are the Golden Core that he carved from his own body, isn’t that right?”
A Golden Core has no intelligence, but this one, carved out with all of Rong Xian’s sorrow and anger, had absorbed his essence, gained sentience, and became “Rong Xian.” It had become the embodiment of his thousand-year remorse, the guardian of these nameless graves.
“Rong Xian” looked at Bai Shuo, without denying her words. His gaze gradually grew clearer, yet the killing intent lingered, still as cold as ever.
“He’s not even human. How are we supposed to fight him?” Mu Jiu muttered helplessly.
“Senior, for a thousand years, Kunlun sword cultivators have not emerged. The lineage has passed down only from one disciple to the next, and Lord Bei Chen did not draw his sword against you out of Kunlun’s remorse.”
Bai Shuo spoke softly, her words causing Bei Chen to understand. He stepped forward, knelt, presented his sword to “Rong Xian,” and solemnly said, “Kunlun bears guilt, a thousand years of regret. May you finally rest in peace, Sect Leader.”
“Although the fox clan suffered great losses a thousand years ago, they have since regained strength and prosperity. If Senior Ling Long’s spirit watches over them, she can rest easy.” Bai Shuo looked toward Mu Jiu, her gaze meaningful.
Everyone looked at Mu Jiu. He pressed his lips together but didn’t move.
He knew exactly what Bai Shuo wanted. This “Rong Xian” was born from that man’s resentment; he was the embodiment of his obsession and inner demons. No amount of spiritual power could make him disappear—except repentance and forgiveness.
But why should he forgive him?! Weren’t the lives of over a hundred ancestors of the fox clan worth anything?
“Rong Xian” looked at Mu Jiu with his clouded, aged eyes, as if hoping for something.
Mu Jiu remained still, gripping his miniature Wheel of Annihilation in silence.
“A Golden Core carved out by one’s own hand, a soul left restless for a thousand years… Your Highness…” Bai Shuo sighed, but before she could finish, Mu Jiu trembled, put away the Wheel of Annihilation, and slowly walked over to “Rong Xian.”
“It’s enough. Everything you’ve done… it’s enough. Go now.”
With Mu Jiu’s sigh, two drops of blood-red tears fell from “Rong Xian’s” eyes. The Kunlun iron sword in his hand quivered, then crumbled into dust.
The madness faded from “Rong Xian’s” eyes. He turned to look once more at the three nameless graves, a peaceful smile touching his lips before he faded away with the Kunlun iron sword, vanishing before everyone’s eyes.
The thunderclouds dispersed, and everything returned to stillness. A faintly glowing white Golden Core hovered in mid-air.
The quiet returned around the nameless graves.
Bai Shuo reached out her hand and caught the Golden Core.
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