Chapter 315

“This is my brother.”

Lu Wanxing stared at the skeleton beside Jueming for a long time.

Then, she suddenly turned to look at them, repeating over and over, as if unsure whether she was speaking to them or sobbing to herself, “Do you see it? This… this is my brother.”

She had clung to a vague, baseless notion for so many years, forcing herself to hold on.

Every time she thought about giving up, Lu Wanxing would think back to that night when she and her brother parted ways.

Since their father passed away early and their mother was weak and sickly, her brother, Lu Chao, had taken on the heavy burden of the household.

To Lu Wanxing, her brother was the greatest hero.

That night, she felt an inexplicable unease, tugging on his sleeve, refusing to move.

Lu Chao looked at her for a while before softly asking, “Wanxing, do you still remember what Dad used to say?”

Her father was a scholarly man who spoke in a pompous manner, completely at odds with the rugged nature of the desert.

He often said things the children couldn’t understand.

Lu Wanxing had never liked listening to him, and after he died saving someone, she never heard those words again.

At that time, she was still very young, and the complicated phrases had long slipped her mind.

She thought hard, and finally, with her childish voice, she said, “Dad said… to be a good person!”

Her brother had smiled then.

His smile was warm, his eyes curving into gentle crescent shapes.

He bent down and patted her head.

“That’s right. Never forget it.”

At their parting, Lu Chao had said to her, “Wanxing, be a good person.”

And then, as the night swallowed the tall silhouette of her brother, her hero, she watched as he was slowly consumed by the darkness, eventually disappearing completely.

It was only much later that Lu Wanxing realized—perhaps, even when he left that night, he already knew he likely wouldn’t return.

Yet, he had walked forward with unwavering determination, and even in his final moments, he hadn’t forgotten the promise he made to her.

—Back when the Demon God descended, and Jueming was severely wounded, it was her brother who, judging by the posture of the skeletons, had been the first to drag his dying body forward, using himself to shield the Zhuxie Sword.

Soon after, more people joined him.

These fragile bodies of flesh and blood formed walls to protect the sword that could slay all demons, allowing it to remain in the world.

They knew they were doomed, but they still fought to protect a sliver of hope for the cultivators by sacrificing themselves in this way.

But fate had played a cruel joke on them.

This group of warriors, who had so willingly faced death, became branded as criminals, and the Zhuxie Sword was left to gather dust, never appearing on the battlefield again.

“Jueming and the Zhuxie Sword, huh.”

Liu Xiuyuan grinned even wider.

“I wondered where they had disappeared to, and it turns out they were buried here all along. Well, thank you, young lady. With them, I can finally secure my future!”

Perhaps noticing the redness in Lu Wanxing’s eyes, he clicked his tongue in mock sympathy, surrounded by crackling thunder and flames as he slowly walked toward her.

“I know you’re sad. Your brother did so much, only to be branded a traitor of the worst kind. I’m sad too. But… secrets should remain secrets. Once today is over, no one will ever know, right?”

“Fu*k you!”

Qian San’s eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging on his face.

He swung his fist at Liu Xiuyuan, shouting, “What kind of secret is that? I’m right here!”

Liu Xiuyuan barely paid attention to this common man.

With a cold smirk and a mere thought, demonic energy surged from him, effortlessly sending Qian San flying into the distance.

He intended to continue moving forward.

But as Qian San hit the ground, another figure stepped forward, blocking his path.

“I saw it too.”

“So did I!” someone else shouted.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Speaking in riddles like that. You’re sick!”

“Yeah, I know too! Attacking a young girl? Disgusting!”

More voices rose, filled with anger and defiance.

Two, three, four.

One by one, the bandits stood up, holding their knives, forming a barrier between the skeletons and Liu Xiuyuan, like an unbreakable wall.

“You think you can stop me?” Liu Xiuyuan sneered.

“Pathetic. You’re just asking to die. Not only you lot, but those cultivators are also mine to deal with. How many of them came this time? Six? Seven? They’re all dead now, having fallen into my trap.”

As he spoke, a flick of his fingers sent a pale streak of lightning surging toward one of the bandits’ chests.

Just before it hit, another flash came out of nowhere.

Two forces collided and dissipated into smoke.

It was a sword strike.

Liu Xiuyuan frowned, annoyed, and turned to see where the attack had come from.

He expected it to be He Zhizhou, the more impulsive and stronger of the group.

But as the dust settled, the figure that stood in the wind was the timid-looking youth.

In his right hand, he held a bloodied sword.

His left hand clenched tightly, with strands of white light leaking from between his fingers.

It was a night pearl.

Lin Xun stood tall, despite the unbearable pain in his body.

He wiped the blood from his lips with a trembling hand.

Was he scared?

Of course he was.

He had always been timid, often mocked as the most useless person in the Dragon Palace.

But even someone like him had things he wanted to protect.

He had witnessed those buried memories in the desert.

He knew of those sacrifices that had been twisted and forgotten.

He wanted to tell everyone, with all his heart, that nothing had been lost.

Even unspoken beliefs would never remain secrets.

So what if he died?

He… didn’t want to run away anymore.

Lin Xun gripped his sword tighter, and it hummed in response.

From a distance, the Zhuxie Sword began to emit a faint light.

Sword energy surged within him, like vines growing through every fiber of his being.

The little dragon felt the flow of his own blood, and almost instinctively, he tightened his hold.

Compared to those who had perished in the sands, his surroundings were not dark at all.

No matter what, he had this light beside him.

And now, it was his turn to protect the one who had brought that light to him.

Lin Xun held his breath, lowered his gaze, and let the sword energy fill every inch of his body.

He had never moved as fast as he did now.

The pure white sword energy illuminated the sky, turning night into day, and as the sword rose and fell, its radiance slowly traced a shape.

Little by little, the light carved out an image.

In the pitch-black sky, a shadow suddenly soared up, echoing with a resounding roar.

In that brief moment, all sound ceased.

The distant figure became clear.

A bandit’s eyes widened, his voice trembling with awe.

“It’s a… a dragon!”