The world stood still.
Yun Meimei’s head tumbled through the air, her expression frozen in innocent concern.
Her mother’s scream tore through the hut—a raw, animal sound of grief—before another invisible blade severed her neck mid-cry.
Puff!... Thud... Thud...
Two heads hit the ground.
Blood sprayed across Yun Lintian’s face, warm and thick. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Slowly, he raised a hand and touched the blood on his cheek. Stared at the crimson stain on his fingers.
A laugh echoed through the hut—light, melodic, and utterly merciless.
"Even after losing everything, you still play the hero, Yun Lintian." Tantai Lanling’s voice dripped with mockery as her figure materialized from the shadows. "Slaughtering gods yet saving mortals? How ironic."
She tilted her head, her silver hair glinting in the firelight. "What are you trying to be? A saint? A savior?" Her lips curled. "Or just a fool?"
Yun Lintian didn’t answer and continued to stare at the blood on his fingers for a long time.
The warmth was fading.
He moved slowly, deliberately. Each step echoed in the deathly silence as he approached Yun Meimei’s fallen body. Her head lay a short distance away, those wide eyes still filled with concern—not for herself, but for him.
A child who had offered her last berry to a stranger.
His fingers trembled as he cradled her head. The blood smeared across his palms as he gently closed her eyelids.
"May you find peace in the next life."
Her own words, returned to her.
He repeated the motion for her mother, his movements mechanical. A wave of his hand—golden light stitching flesh, cleansing blood, leaving them pristine. As if sleeping.
But they would never wake.
Tantai Lanling’s mocking laughter still hung in the air.
"Pathetic," she sneered, twirling a dagger between her fingers. "You slaughter gods without hesitation, yet mourn these ants?"
Yun Lintian didn’t look at her.
He knelt beside the two bodies, arranging them with care. His fingers lingered on Yun Meimei’s small hand—still warm, still soft.
Just like Xia Yao’s had been.
The memory struck like a blade.
His first death. His first failure.
Tantai Lanling’s smirk widened. "Nian Shi was right. Sentiment is your—"
The sound of breaking bone cut her off.
Her eyes dropped to her chest—where Yun Lintian’s hand now protruded, having moved without moving, piercing her heart before space itself could register the motion.
Blood bubbled at her lips. "H-How...?"
Yun Lintian finally looked at her.
His golden and black eyes held no rage. No hatred.
"I will find you later."
He knew that the woman in front of him was nothing but an avatar.
The God Slaying Sword materialized, its black-as-ink edge drinking her divine essence before she could scream. Her body crumbled to ash, her soul shredded into nothingness.
Not even granted the mercy of an afterlife.
Silence reclaimed the hut.
Outside, the village burned. The Black Venom Sect’s cultivators lay dead, their bodies untouched by Yun Lintian’s wrath—their fates already sealed the moment they harmed what was his.
But it didn’t matter.
Yun Lintian stared at his hands—clean now, yet forever stained.
The storm inside him didn’t rage. It didn’t howl.
And in that endless cold, a decision crystallized:
No more attachments. No more mercy.
If saving one meant losing a thousand, he would let the world burn.
If kindness bred weakness, he would become the monster they feared.
The God Slaying Sword trembled in anticipation as its master stood.
Yun Lintian didn’t dig a grave.
A glance. The earth itself parted, forming a perfect resting place. He laid Yun Meimei and her mother side by side, their faces peaceful.
A final gift—golden light sealing their bodies, preserving them for eternity.
No tombstone. No epitaph.
Just his hand pressed to the soil, imparting a single blessing:
Rest where no evil may touch you.
The village faded behind him, its flames extinguished by his passing. The survivors would remember nothing—not him, not the massacre, not the girl who had tried to protect them.
Only emptiness remained.
After leaving the village behind, Yun Lintian sat cross-legged atop a desolate mountain peak, the God Slaying Sword hovering silently beside him. The last traces of divine power from the slaughtered Primordial Gods churned within his body, their essence forcibly refined into his own.
His breathing was steady. His eyes closed.
Not a single ripple of emotion escaped his calm exterior.
But beneath the surface—
In a realm outside time, Nian Shi stood before a shimmering silver mirror, watching Yun Lintian’s meditation. Beside him, Tantai Lanling’s true form stood with arms crossed, her expression grim.
"Well?" Nian Shi asked without turning. "How did it feel?"
Tantai Lanling’s fingers twitched. Though it had only been an avatar that perished, the sensation of Yun Lintian’s cold fury had transmitted perfectly.
"Fear," she admitted through gritted teeth. "I felt fear."
Nian Shi chuckled. "Good."
His long fingers traced the mirror’s surface, sending ripples through the image. "If you hadn’t been afraid, I would have doubted whether Yun Lintian had truly progressed."
A smirk played on his lips. "This version of him is undoubtedly the strongest I’ve observed across all timelines."
antai Lanling frowned. "Because he remained calm after that girl’s death?"
"Precisely." Nian Shi’s eyes gleamed. "When tragedy strikes and Yun Lintian doesn’t rage, doesn’t weep—that’s when he’s most dangerous. It means his emotions are perfectly controlled, his mind razor-sharp."
He gestured to the mirror. "Look at him now. That calm? It’s the eye of the hurricane."
The God of Time paced slowly, his silver robes whispering against the floor. "Each time his kindness is trampled, he grows more terrifying. More ruthless. More... efficient." He paused, glancing at Tantai Lanling. "And he’ll crave power even more desperately now."
Then Nian Shi added with playful malice: "Of course, this isn’t his final form."
Tantai Lanling understood immediately. What Nian Shi was talking about were naturally Long Qingxuan and the others.
Nian Shi’s smile widened.
He turned to look at the mirror again and said to himself. "I wonder how strong he will become once there’s truly nothing left for him in this world."