In the back mountain, the battle had turned grim. Ren Yingying lay crumpled, two embroidery needles piercing her body, her strength drained, unable to fight on.
Xiang Wentian sprawled lifeless on the ground, his breath gone, clearly dead.
Linghu Chong and Leader Ren Woxing bore wounds of their own. Ren Woxing, especially, was a bloodied wreck, his clothes soaked crimson, scars crisscrossing his body.
Only a decade's worth of hatred kept him standing.
Dongfang Bubai, however, looked even worse. His red robe, now drenched in blood, gleamed a deeper scarlet. Pale as death from blood loss, his body grew colder, his mind fogged, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
"Dongfang Bubai truly is the world's greatest master," Linghu Chong murmured, less wounded than the others. As he watched Dongfang Bubai stagger and collapse, awe mixed with confusion. "Even against our combined strength, he held his own."
In the fray, Linghu Chong had sensed Dongfang Bubai holding back against him.
Leaping forward, he aimed his sword at Dongfang Bubai's throat but hesitated, not striking. "Why did you spare me just now?" he asked, voice uncertain.
Dongfang Bubai was obviously stabbed by his sword, enabling Ren Woxing's Star Absorbing Skill to drain his blood. They'd never met before, so why the mercy? Linghu Chong couldn't understand.
"You're close to Alex, aren't you?" Dongfang Bubai rasped, his consciousness fading, answering on instinct. "He taught you his sword skills to you."
Linghu Chong fell silent.
Indeed, without the Blocking skill Alex had shared, he might not have survived today. Yet he'd used it against Dongfang Bubai, and guilt gnawed at him.
"Hahaha, Dongfang, you dog! I'm the one laughing last!" Ren Woxing, though gravely wounded, saw Dongfang Bubai fallen. He drew a ragged breath, roared with triumph, and swung his palm at Dongfang Bubai's head.
The blow could shatter stone, let alone a skull.
But then, a sword's gleam flashed.
Ren Woxing screamed, clutching his hand as he stumbled back. Half his palm lay severed on the ground.
"Linghu Chong! What are you doing!?"
Eyes blazing like a ravenous beast, Ren Woxing glared at Linghu Chong, gripping his maimed hand.
"No… it wasn't me…" Linghu Chong stammered, bewildered. "My sword… it moved on its own…"
"Sword out of control!?" Ren Woxing's heart lurched, a wave of dread rising within him.
"Alex…?" Dongfang Bubai, slumped on the ground, his mind clouded, glimpsed a figure descending slowly from the sky.
"Am I seeing things?" he whispered. "Alex fell from the cliff, gone forever. How could he fly? They say the dying see those they long for… so the legend is true…"
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Alex stepped on the White Dragon sword, his figure drifting down from the sky, landing softly beside Dongfang Bubai.
Linghu Chong and Ren Yingying, sprawled nearby, too weak to fight, stared wide-eyed at Alex, their hearts trembling.
Even Leader Ren Woxing, usually so brash, forgot the agony of his severed palm, gaping at Alex in stunned silence.
Had this man just descended from the heavens, riding a flying sword?
"How are you?" Alex asked, his voice steady as he took in Dongfang Bubai's ghastly state—blood-soaked and fading.
His calm mask hid a brewing storm, its weight pressing heavily on those around him, far from soothing.
"I'm dying… is that why I see you?" Dongfang Bubai struggled to lift his hand toward Alex, but it fell limp halfway.
Alex caught it gently, their first touch. Dongfang Bubai's hand was ice-cold, drained of warmth. Alex knew the blood loss was too great.
In a modern hospital, with transfusions and equipment, there might've been hope. But here, the outcome was sealed.
"You're alive… this isn't a dream…" Feeling the warmth of Alex's grip, Dongfang Bubai's pale face lit up, joy flickering in his dimming eyes.
On the brink of death, he rejoiced that Alex lived.
"Why do you care so much about me?" Alex asked, sensing something deeper than ordinary loyalty in Dongfang Bubai's gaze. He paused, searching for words.
"I care… perhaps because we're alike," Dongfang Bubai murmured, his voice faint. "I see you as a true confidant…"
"Alike?" Alex frowned, puzzled, unsure what Dongfang Bubai meant by their similarity.
"When we first met, I saw your mastery of the Flying Needle technique," Dongfang Bubai said, his eyes clouding with memory. "I thought your skills could serve the Sun Moon Sect, so I named you deputy hall master under Tong Baixiong."
"But later, I noticed you had few friends in the sect. You preferred solitude, honing your martial arts alone. I took you for a martial arts fanatic."
"Then, when you brought Qu Yang back, boosting the sect's prestige, I kept my promise and made you an elder of the Sun Moon Sect. You held real power."
"Yet Yang Lianting grew jealous and schemed against you. You didn't care, ignoring his ploys. I realized then you saw power as worthless. In this world, where good and evil clash for dominance, you treated power like dust. That intrigued me."
"When Yang Lianting tried to assassinate you, you only scarred his face. I saw not just a master who scorned power, but one with cunning and restraint. So I named you deputy leader."
"Yet, despite your brilliance, you had no close allies in the sect. I, too, stayed secluded in the back mountain. Even Elder Tong and the others met me only through a veil, never truly seeing me."
"So, I saw you as a confidant. Your coming to Blackwood Cliff to save me proves my judgment was sound. I'm glad… truly, so glad…"
Alex said nothing.
Head bowed, he watched Dongfang Bubai speak, his voice growing fainter, his breath faltering. Alex knew this was his final surge, a last flare before the end.
"Do you have any last wishes?" Alex asked after a heavy silence, his voice low.
"This… this life… it's a pity I wasn't a female…" Dongfang Bubai whispered, his strength fading. "My martial arts… all recorded in this red robe… please, keep it…" His body slumped, breath ceasing, yet his face held a serene calm.
Alex gazed at Dongfang Bubai, his heart heavy with grief.
To others, Dongfang Bubai was the fearsome leader of the Sun Moon Sect, the world's unmatched master, both envied and feared. But his final words revealed a lonely, pitiable soul.
After castrating himself to master the Sunflower Manual, his martial arts soared, and as sect leader, he wielded immense power. Yet he hid in the back mountain, shunning the world's gaze. Even old friends and loyal followers dared not face him.
Perhaps this loneliness drove him to tolerate Yang Lianting, craving any companionship, however flawed.
Was it this same solitude that made Dongfang Bubai see Alex as a kindred spirit, a confidant?
Dongfang Bubai's martial arts were peerless; Alex, too, was a formidable master.
He scorned power as worthless; Alex, a passer-by in the world, cared little for it either.
He had no friends, secluded in the back mountain; Alex, destined to leave, avoided deep ties.
Their lives mirrored each other, no wonder Dongfang Bubai called him a fellow confidant.
Now, Alex understood why Dongfang Bubai treated him with such warmth. To a lonely soul, a recognized confidant was a rare treasure.
Alex's thoughts drifted. If you were female, perhaps I could've returned your deeper feelings, he mused. But as a man, I cherish your kindness, your friendship. I accept you as my confidant, my brother in spirit. Regret stung him—he'd kept his distance, wary of Dongfang Bubai's self-castration, declining invitations to discuss the Flying Needle technique.
If you were a man untouched by the Sunflower Manual, we might've been brothers, sharing wine and laughter. If you were a woman, perhaps a deeper bond. What a pity… Gently laying Dongfang Bubai's body down, Alex sighed, his heart heavy with what might have been.
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