Heaven's Mandate

"Cough, cough!" Veins bulged on Manor Lord Yao's forehead as he coughed up blood. Gritting his teeth, he exerted force to tap the major acupoints around his chest in an attempt to stem the bleeding, but it was useless. His powerful heart throbbed violently, only causing blood and shattered fragments of internal organs to gush from the wounds. The body of an Inner Strengthening martial artist was simply too strong and resilient; the bullets had failed to punch through, instead tumbling and fragmenting inside, causing even greater trauma and shredding more of his organs. "To think... I would die to such a flying sword?!" He sank limply to his knees. The eerie green toxic fiend gathered back around Manor Lord Yao, surging toward the wounds in a futile, final effort. Keeping his eyes fixed on Manor Lord Yao, whose aura was rapidly fading, An Jing finally felt the knot in his chest loosen a fraction. Given Manor Lord Yao's strength and reflexes, had An Jing drawn the firearms right from the start, his cautious opponent would have easily read the direction of the barrels. He wouldn't have been able to aim at all, let alone land a hit. Although Huaixu had no firearms, high-powered hand crossbows and concealed weapons were plentiful. At most, people here wouldn't recognize a firearm as a concealed weapon, but if an alerted martial artist suspected you carried one, they could easily dodge it. Only by striking at the fleeting instant when the opponent let down their guard, assuming victory, could he succeed! Seeing this, Bai Qinghan, who had intended to approach, halted in the distance, her gaze locked onto the handguns in An Jing's hands. In his final moments, the old man, whose face was already as deathly pale as a corpse, raised his head. Through bloodshot, dimming eyes, he stared at the handguns in An Jing's grip. "What is this again... a sword casket for flying swords?!" Both the Sword Spirit and Manor Lord Yao had mistaken firearms for flying sword divine abilities one after another, making An Jing almost wonder whether the Huaixu Realm truly possessed some sort of sword casket resembling a gun. Still, now was not the time for idle thoughts. An Jing knew full well that Manor Lord Yao still possessed the strength to strike back. He did not close the distance. Instead, he raised his hands and pulled the triggers again without hesitation. *Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!* Another ten rapid gunshots rang out. Manor Lord Yao's pupils constricted sharply. Letting out a furious roar, he forcibly rallied his breath and dragged his broken, wounded body to evade. Even in such a battered state, he actually managed to dodge nine of the bullets. Only the final one struck home, as his injury caused a fatal hesitation in his movements. A fountain of blood sprayed from his shoulder, and he collapsed sideways to the ground. An Jing felt a jolt of inner shock, noting the lesson: as expected, even on the verge of death, an Inner Strengthening martial artist could unleash one last burst of power! Yet now, Manor Lord Yao was truly about to die. Gathering his remaining strength, he looked up at An Jing, his gaze a tangle of reminiscence, anger, relief, and hatred. Perhaps he recalled the moment so many years ago when he had looked upon his friend's corpse; perhaps he was pondering what fate awaited An Jing in the future; perhaps, facing death, he wished to utter some parting warning; or perhaps he was lamenting that An Jing had chosen a path he himself had never dared to walk. Yet he could no longer speak, nor was he worthy of saying anything more. An instant after lifting his head, this nameless, villainous old man let his head loll to one side, drawing his last breath. At this moment, the entirety of Suspended Fate Valley and the White Sand Ground hung in a strange balance between chaos and silence. In the distance, the Fear Demon had already been routed by the instructors and lecturers, dispersing into demonic qi. Yet the Demon Sect had no time to rest, for a unit of Red Armored Guards had flanking-charged from the rear, initiating yet another clash. Led by several lecturers, the Children of Calamity who had chosen to stay were heading deep into the mountains. The Demon Sect had likely prepared an escape route long before, but An Jing's sudden reversal and the surprise raid by the Red Armored Guards had been so unexpected that only a fraction of their people could make use of it. Far away, Suspended Fate Manor blazed furiously. The battle between the Red Armored Guards and the Demon Sect defenders had reached a fever pitch. Blade energy and sword qi crisscrossed; spiritual flames and wicked fiends intertwined, while ringing battle cries and sounds of slaughter echoed across the manor and the valley. Yet upon the White Sand Ground, only An Jing and Bai Qinghan remained. Speechless, silent. Although An Jing had only found the opening to shoot Manor Lord Yao after intercepting Bai Qinghan, the truth was that had she wanted to, she could have interfered at any moment to help Manor Lord Yao suppress him. Yet she had done no such thing. Even now, she neither backed away nor approached, simply watching An Jing quietly, just as she had the very first time they sparred. "Qinghan... hm?!" Twin guns in hand, An Jing was about to break the silence and say something, but right then, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. *Is this... drugs?!* The world spun. An Jing gritted his teeth and stepped back, engulfed by intense vertigo. He suddenly remembered the moment earlier when he had been engulfed by Manor Lord Yao's Nether Toxic Fiend. *Damn it, I forgot the old bastard's real post is Deputy Envoy of the Medicine Hall!* His vision twisted and flipped upside down. Before his eyes lay only the expanse of white sand and the rushing river. Collapsing onto the ground, An Jing caught the faint scent of medicine—compounds blended into the nether toxic killing aura, a concoction of venomous insects and herbs, Manor Lord Yao's forte. If An Jing hadn't drawn his guns and had instead tangled with Manor Lord Yao for a bit longer, the old man likely would have subdued and dragged him away without breaking a sweat. He had not fallen to an enemy in combat, only to be brought down by the effects of medicinal drugs. Before his mind succumbed completely to chaos, An Jing caught sight of a pair of plain white cloth shoes. She approached slowly. And then... his body was propped upright. A pair of hands pressed against his back. A cool, refreshing spiritual energy spread up and down along his heavenly pillar spine, circulating in rhythm with the celestial circuit, purging the drugs bit by bit and slowly clearing the darkness that had begun clouding An Jing's vision. The sensation was the polar opposite of An Jing's inner breath—his own inner breath flowed like molten iron, while this chilled energy was like drinking a bowl of cold spring water in the dead of midsummer, clear and invigorating. "...Why?" he murmured weakly in confusion. "Didn't you want me to come with you?" "If your heart isn't in it, what purpose is there in taking you along?" Helping An Jing circulate his inner breath through the celestial circuit with the power of her Mystic Yin Destiny Pattern to expel the drugs, the girl spoke calmly. "If Suspended Fate Manor cannot hold you now, then Mount Tianyi will not hold you in the future either. "Go, Eldest Senior Brother." Confirming that An Jing's condition was stabilizing on its own, those hands withdrew. "You killed Manor Lord Yao, and I am weaker than you to begin with. It's only natural that I couldn't bring you back. "Also... I think what you said was right. "Between two man-eating dragons, I shouldn't have chosen either... It's just that I hate Great Chen too much. "Eldest Senior Brother, I really, truly... "Hate them so much." —*I will make those high-and-mighty bastards pay.* Silence. Only the sound of the flowing river remained, alongside resolute footsteps fading into the distance. "Thank you," An Jing said softly in the end. He heard the retreating footsteps pause. "I'm the one who should thank you," she replied. "Thank you for teaching me to read. Thank you for teaching me martial arts. Thank you for not killing me. Thank you for eating meals with me. Thank you for training with me. Thank you for never once thinking of eating me... "Thank you... thank you for believing in me and treating me as a friend." When An Jing opened his eyes once more, Bai Qinghan had already left the White Sand Ground. —*I'm sorry. Please also tell Ye Qi and the others that I'm sorry.* He could faintly hear her parting words echoing in his mind. The clamor of slaughter still drifted from Suspended Fate Manor; it would likely not end before nightfall. After An Jing completely purged the remnants of Manor Lord Yao's drugs from his body and stood up, he searched Manor Lord Yao's corpse and recovered a number of small items. At the moment, however, he had no mind to discern their specific uses, simply stuffing them haphazardly into his robes. "Well done, An Jing!" Right at that moment, he heard the excited voice of the Sword Spirit. "You actually managed to save most of the people, and you held off the Demon Sect so no one came to disturb me! "I've now completely suppressed the Extramundane Demon's remnant soul within the valley. You can head inside and retrieve my second fragment at the central altar!" "All right, I'm on my way," An Jing replied. Yet he noticed he wasn't quite as thrilled as he had imagined. The Sword Spirit picked up on it as well. "What's the matter? Your state of mind is fluctuating... firmer, yet laced with a trace of doubt? "No need to worry, though. The mind is like a rusty sword—it ought to be polished often. If you don't mind, could you tell me what's puzzling you?" "Mm..." An Jing pondered for a few breaths before speaking slowly. "Fuxie, back in your era, if you believed something was wrong with the world, what would you do?" "Kill." Without the slightest hesitation, the Sword Spirit answered as if stating the obvious. "If you believe the world is wrong, you must correct it—yet there will always be those who believe the world is just fine as it is. They can profit from it; they can reign supreme across the realm within such a world. "In fact, they cannot even imagine what a 'right' or 'better' path looks like. "When that happens, words are useless. You can only speak with the sword and silence one side once and for all. "Kill. There is only killing!" A sword was ever brimming with murderous intent, for that was its endowed mission, its Heaven's Mandate. "Is that so." Hearing this, An Jing fell silent for a moment before letting out an untroubled smile. "So indeed, this..." —*My Innate Wisdom, my morality, my character, my talent... I see. That's really how it is.* All of these elements guiding him to make these choices, every single piece coming together... "This is my Heaven's Mandate." With those words, he turned and strode toward the depths of Suspended Fate Valley, his gaze resolute once more—more resolute than ever before. And behind An Jing, a crimson halo and totem flowed and expanded, manifesting as blood-red stars. The radiance of Heaven's Mandate cast the youth's shadow stretching in seven directions, sharp as swords. —*Just as I desire.*