The fight intensified. Yun let out a guttural cry that forced them all back, a wave of nullifying pressure washing over the clearing. He danced left and right, swinging his chaotic blade madly, as if losing the last shreds of reason. "I had to!" he roared, his voice cracking. "My brother was all I had, and you took him from me! I had to!"
On the observing side, Lorel's heart ached at the sight. She could feel the raw pain in his voice, the bottomless anger. That day, she had been right there. When Gen took Yuan's life. She could even be said to have been a part of it. Was this the reason Yun had gone so mad?
"Chubbs, we cannot wait anymore," Lorel said, her voice strained. "If we want a way out—"
"I must do the spirit deal," Chubbs finished, his voice firm. He looked at her, his usual joviality gone, replaced by a weary determination. "I cannot let you die here because of me." He didn't wait for her to dissuade him. He turned and moved into the deeper shadows of the silver forest, acting on his own.
Lorel knew she had to focus. She wrenched her attention back to Yun. Of the twenty on the island, only seven were left: Chubbs, Lorel, Ning, Yun, Lilia, and two other trembling cultivators. At this rate, they would be butchered.
*I have to do it,* Lorel told herself.
She remembered the stories of Starli, the spells she had learned there. The **Star Oblivion**. It was a formation of immense power, a miniature cosmos brought to bear. Although it was mainly an offensive technique, she could not muster its full destructive power yet. At most, she could use it to restrain, to bind.
She could use it now.
But Lorel was scared. She didn't master the skill yet. What if, at the last minute, it failed and they all died because of her hesitation? Despite all the challenges, all the growth she had been through, her deepest insecurities resurfaced. After all, she was just Lorel. The timid girl who dared to leave her father's shadow, the grip of her brother's chains, and the gilded cage of her betrothed's indifference. One could claim to have changed. One could act as if it were the case. But in the face of a real, decisive need for that change, she felt herself retreating into her cage.
Observing the motionless Lorel, Ning had no idea what was going on in her mind. But he knew he had to do something.
Just as Yun was about to tear through the space where Lorel stood, Ning vanished.
He reappeared, shoving her aside. The dark sword meant for her sliced through the air where she had been—and through Ning's left arm at the shoulder.
Taking the blow with him, their figures tumbled through the air. Blood trailed in a dark arc. Lorel and Ning crashed to the moss a few meters apart.
Lorel snapped back to reality, the world rushing in. She saw the severed arm, the shocking spray of blood. "Ning!" She scrambled to his side, her voice breaking. "I am so sorry, it was my mistake—"
Ning simply smiled, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "It is fine," he rasped. "I can still fight."
He forced himself to his feet. The grotesque wound on his chest, plus the now-severed arm—his smile never wavered. It was as if the moment he had embodied the Silent Departure, he had understood something. He understood that his journey was nearing its end, and he wanted to go standing, not lamenting his fate.
He looked at Lorel, his eyes clear. "I do not know what you had in mind," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "But do it."
Lorel bit her lip, drawing blood. "But if I fail, and you die—"
"What happens to me is not important," Ning interrupted. His gaze was distant, peaceful. "Think of it. Gen went on an impossible quest to defeat the Divine General and avenge his father. At first, I thought he was a fool when we met at the Tower of Wonder."
Lorel's eyes flickered as she looked at the now-broad back of the one-armed swordsman.
Ning added, "To challenge those people was the same as refusing to obey the sky and fate itself. Yet he still went. And he managed to take Nix's life. Doing so, he gave hope to all our world. One can say it was luck, circumstance, Varja's sacrifice… but he still did it. It is clear our world is not done, Lorel." He turned his head slightly, meeting her eyes. "And for what you represent… for Gen… I will give my life for you. This will be my gratitude towards him."
Before Lorel could ask more, plead more, Ning was gone.
He shot forward, a beam of defiant white light, clashing head-on with the berserk Yun.
This time, the power contained in the impact forced both into a stalemate, a sphere of screaming light and devouring darkness grinding against each other.
Lorel rose to her feet, observing the scene with a newfound, diamond-hard determination. The Seventeen-year-old girl wiped the tears from her face.
Ning was right. Gen had gone on an impossible quest. Not for them, but his actions had affected them all. For him. For herself. She couldn't always be the crying Lorel behind his back. She wanted to stand next to him at the apex, not be forgotten in his shadow.
Lorel unleashed all her Qi.
She began floating upward, the silvery air parting around her. She floated towards the chaotic storm where Yun was ready to tear apart the last of them.
The void around them shifted. The eerie silver light of the Spirit Isle dimmed, replaced by a deep, velvet blackness speckled with points of fierce, cold light. It was as if the stars had been cast down into the tomb. Around Lorel, small orbs resembling planets ignited, rotating in a slow, solemn dance. They bore the weight of a universe within them. The weight of her destiny. Her desire to be *here*, to be present, to be more than a memory.
She clasped her hands together.
"**Star Oblivion.**"
Yun's body froze mid-swing, as if his entire being had been set in stone, trapped in the sudden, absolute gravity of the miniature cosmos. His chaotic energy churned against the binding starlight, but for a crucial second, he was held.
Ning's eyes sparkled with admiration even through the pain. * I am glad to have known all of you,* he thought. *I just hope, together with Gen, you finish what he started.*
Ning turned into a pure beam of condensed will and light. He bolted towards the frozen Yun, not around him, but *through* him.
The Silent Departure was not a blade anymore. It was Ning himself.
He passed through Yun's body in one final, soundless, perfect swing.
The moment he landed behind Yun, a phantom of white light already fading, the **Star Oblivion** shattered.
The released force was a silent, expanding ring of cosmic pressure. It blasted Lorel and all the others backward, flattening the moss and shaking the ancient trees.
The half-alive Yun continued his swing, but it hit nothing but air, landing with a world-cracking ***THOOM*** that cratered the earth and made the island itself shudder.
Yun's figure crumbled forward. The horrific Zhadao transformation receded like a tide, revealing the youthful, sixteen-year-old boy beneath, now bathing in his own dark blood. The void left his eyes, leaving only confusion and fading pain.
Lorel rushed to the side of Ning.
His figure was vanishing, dissolving into luminous particles of pure Qi, like a constellation gently coming apart.
"I am sorry," Lorel whispered, tears streaming freely now. "If I had not hesitated, then maybe—"
Ning smiled, his form almost transparent. "Goodbye." The word was a breath of wind. He looked at her, his expression serene. "Could you do me one last favor?"
Lorel nodded violently, her voice choked. "Anything. Anything you want, I will do it."
Ning's fading smile held a world of regret and peace. "Tell Master Suki… I am sorry. I could not perfect his art in this life."
Lorel gasped, reaching for him, but her hands passed through shimmering light. She held nothing but faint, warm particles of Qi that dissipated on the silver air.
She fell to her knees, a silent sob wracking her body. Yet another person she cared for had died. The weight of it pressed down, a physical pain in her chest.
Then she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"We should leave now, my lady."
Lorel turned, tears blurring her vision, to look at Chubbs.
She froze.
Chubbs's rounded body had returned to its familiar shape, but there was something different about him now. Streaks of his black hair had turned shockingly white, as if aged decades in moments. His eyes held a new, weary depth, but his smile was the same loyal, steadfast one.
"What have you done, Chubbs?" she whispered, dread coiling in her stomach.
"I found a way out for us," he said, his smile not quite reaching his newly ancient eyes. "My lady."