“They’re just demons…”
“Just demons!”
“Nothing more than demons!”
BANG!
Hongyu slammed his fist into a nearby boulder.
The enormous rock shattered instantly, sending countless fragments flying in every direction.
Gritting his teeth, Hongyu clutched his forehead with all his strength, struggling to withstand the sensation of his consciousness gradually falling apart.
In the end, he had decided to use his own consciousness to seal away the demons.
‘Heh.’
‘Not even two years ago, I was telling Shu to take better care of herself.’
‘And now here I am, sealing away demons with my own consciousness…’
“Cough!
Cough, cough!”
Hongyu was seized by a violent coughing fit.
A bitter taste filled his mouth, and he sank helplessly onto the mountainside.
After a while, he let out a long breath of resignation.
‘Still…’
‘If using the little life I have left can guarantee Shu’s safety…’
‘Isn’t that more than worth it?’
‘Next, I’ll have to gradually eliminate the demonic presence throughout Dahuang City once and for all.’
‘That might take a little more time…’
‘But perhaps that’s a good thing.’
‘It means I can spend a little longer with them.’
After resting for some time, the exhausted Hongyu unsteadily rose to his feet.
He slowly began making his way back.
‘As expected…’
‘After being worn down by the passage of time, I’ve become far too weak.’
‘Come to think of it, Shu originally would have sealed away the demons’ consciousness all by herself for thousands of years.’
‘That’s genuinely impressive…’
By now, the sun was only beginning to rise.
The moon had nearly disappeared beneath the horizon.
Shu was still fast asleep.
When Hongyu finally returned, he decided not to disturb her.
Instead, he began working on a solution to Dahuang City’s famine.
Although the demonic contamination had been dealt with, eliminating that threat alone wouldn’t save the city.
Its agricultural productivity was still far too low.
Perhaps several hundred years ago, when Hongyu had been at the height of his powers, he could have instantly created enough food to feed the entire population of Dahuang City.
He might even have produced enough to feed everyone in Great Yan.
But now…
‘…I can’t do that anymore.’
The best solution Hongyu could currently think of was to forcibly alter the genetic structure of a plant, creating a variety suitable for large-scale agricultural production.
That much was still within his capabilities.
‘As for Shu…’
‘Let her sleep a little longer.’
‘Once I’m gone, she’ll have plenty of work waiting for her.’
Exhausted, Hongyu sat down in a chair outside the house.
He slowly closed his eyes.
‘For now…’
‘Let me rest a little.’
…
…
The same moment, in another place.
Dusk slept soundly beside Hongyu, holding his arm with both hands.
She had curled up close to him, practically nestling against his chest.
Every now and then, she even made faint, contented noises resembling the purring of a little kitten.
However, the Hongyu beside her was suffering from a terrible headache.
Once again, he had helped Dusk suppress Sui’s consciousness.
But this time, the consciousness had retaliated against him.
The suppression itself had been successful.
Unfortunately, the backlash had left Hongyu’s mind reeling.
An excruciating headache followed.
His tightly closed eyes slowly opened.
They were bloodshot.
Carefully, he released Dusk from his arms and settled her comfortably on the bed.
Then he quietly got up and left the room.
…
…
“Cough!
Cough!”
He adjusted his physical condition, using his abilities to make his complexion appear somewhat healthier.
‘Not yet…’
‘My consciousness can’t collapse this quickly.’
‘Ling still needs me.’
After coughing twice more, Hongyu searched for Ling according to her usual habits.
Sure enough, he found her beneath an enormous tree in the courtyard.
She was leaning against its trunk, clutching her wine gourd.
She had fallen into a restless sleep, her brows tightly furrowed.
Hongyu gently placed a finger against her forehead.
Then he began suppressing Sui’s consciousness.
“Cough!
Cough, cough!!”
In an instant, an unbearable pain spread through his head, as though thousands of needles were piercing his mind.
The sensation continued intensifying.
Hongyu hurriedly covered his mouth, suppressing another violent coughing fit.
Meanwhile, Ling’s tightly furrowed brows gradually relaxed.
Her breathing became steady.
After a while, she opened her eyes in a daze.
“Hey there.
Awake?”
Hongyu chuckled softly.
“Mm…”
Ling responded sleepily.
Then she reached out and took his hand.
“What did you dream about this time?”
“Take a guess?”
She gave him a mischievous smile.
“Ling, I’m already an old man.
I don’t have much longer to live.”
“Have a little mercy on me, would you?
Tell me what you dreamed about, at least while I still have the chance to hear it.”
“Alright, alright!
I’ll tell you!”
Ling laughed, apparently amused by his exaggerated complaint.
The man standing before her still looked absurdly young.
Hearing someone with a face like his claim to be old and approaching the end of his life sounded like nothing more than another one of his rather mean-spirited jokes.
But for Hongyu…
Perhaps those words were meant as a warning.
A farewell that Ling hadn’t yet recognized.
His gaze grew distant for a moment.
Then he suddenly looked toward her.
His shoulder shifted slightly.
After that, he remained perfectly still.
Ling noticed the strange movement.
However, she didn’t give it much thought and continued telling him about her dream.
…
…
“Old geezer, why aren’t you telling me a story today?”
Just as she’d done countless times before, Nian approached Hongyu, eagerly anticipating the next tale he would share.
But this time, things were different.
Hongyu didn’t begin another story as she’d expected.
Instead, he sat quietly, eating his favorite tanghulu.
“No stories today, Nian.”
‘If I start another one…’
‘I’ll never be able to finish it.’
‘I’m running out of time.’
“How about we read some other storybooks together?”
Hongyu offered Nian another skewer of tanghulu.
“Eh?!
No way!”
“I want you to tell me a story!”
Nian reached out and took a skewer.
However, instead of accepting the fresh one he’d offered, she grabbed the one Hongyu had already been eating.
“I really don’t have any more.”
Hongyu gave her a helpless smile.
His heart was already approaching the point where it would stop beating.
…
…
The imperial capital, at the Sui Regulator.
“Wang…”
Hongyu examined the documents that Wang had been handling on his behalf.
“You’ve really become familiar with the work of the Sui Regulator…”
“Sir…
you…”
Wang frowned.
Although it had only been a few years since they’d last met, he could clearly sense that Hongyu’s aura had weakened considerably.
“Me?”
Hongyu looked at Wang’s worried expression and smiled, waving his hand dismissively.
“So you’ve noticed?”
“Wang, I’m getting old.”
“How would you feel about taking over the Grand Warden’s responsibilities?”
“Think of it as doing this old man a favor and taking some of the work off my shoulders.”
“You want to pass the position of Grand Warden on to me?!”
Wang was momentarily at a loss.
He had long anticipated that Hongyu would eventually entrust him with the position.
But…
‘Isn’t this happening a little too soon?’
Hongyu, however, seemed completely oblivious to Wang’s bewilderment.
He casually removed the Grand Warden’s token, which he had deliberately worn at his waist today, and held it up for Wang to see.
“In two days, I’ll submit my resignation to Great Yan.”
“And when that happens, you’ll become the next Grand Warden.”
Wang stared at Hongyu in a daze.
Over the past century, Wang had become accustomed to calculating and predicting events throughout the world.
Yet there was one thing he had always refused to do.
Calculate the intentions or futures of his own family.
And Hongyu was undoubtedly someone Wang considered family.
That was why the sudden announcement had caught him so completely off guard.
He couldn’t understand.
‘Why does Sir seem to be…
in such a hurry?’
…
…
The northwestern frontier of Great Yan, Yumen.
“Sir?”
Chongyue hadn’t expected Hongyu to visit him today.
After a moment of surprise, he warmly invited Hongyu into the military camp.
“Chongyue, you really have become…
much more composed.”
Hongyu couldn’t help feeling a little sentimental.
Chongyue responded with an awkward smile.
“Sir, there’s really no need to bring up my embarrassing past, is there?”
“Hahahaha!
Of course not!”
Hongyu laughed at Chongyue’s helpless expression.
He patted him on the shoulder before finally explaining why he’d come.
“Chongyue, that sword of yours…
the one you used to seal away your divine authority.”
“Where is it?
I’d like to take a look.”
“That sword?”
Chongyue stroked his chin thoughtfully.
He didn’t particularly care why Hongyu wanted to see it.
Without hesitation, he led him to where the sword was kept.
After all, Chongyue would never suspect Hongyu of doing anything that might harm the twelve Sui fragments.
Still…
‘Why did Sir go through the trouble of taking the sword out, only to put it back again?’
Just then, Hongyu spoke.
“Shuo…
No, Chongyue.”
His tone was calm, as though he were discussing something completely ordinary.
“Let’s have another match.”
“We’ll fight outside Yumen, along the frontier.
That way, we won’t disturb the residents.”
“This time, I won’t place any restrictions on my own power.”
“Although that might be a little unfair to you, considering you’ve already sealed away your divine authority…”
“Well, never mind.”
“Are you ready?”
“Sir, what exactly do you mean by—”
Chongyue froze.
But instead of receiving an explanation, he was greeted by a series of icy chains suddenly erupting from beneath the ground.
The battle began without warning.