Carrying the Pain

A streak of silver light flashed.

Qi Qiao leapt into the air, gripping a massive two-handed greatsword radiating brilliant silver光芒, and charged toward Bai Ci—now oozing an aura of annihilation.

Though the sword was nearly her height, it didn’t hinder her astonishing speed or explosive power.

She moved so fast it seemed unreal.

Bai Ci stood motionless as Qi Qiao closed in.

No intention to dodge.

The dignity of a god would not allow retreat.

With mere willpower, Bai Ci manipulated the energy around him. Black holes orbited his body, endlessly generating thick black mist. From it, tendrils lashed out at Qi Qiao—but she evaded them all with supernatural reflexes.

Several times, the tendrils wrapped around her. The instant contact occurred, the corrosive annihilation energy shredded her armor, exposing smooth, jade-like skin beneath. Yet Qi Qiao swung her radiant greatsword without pause—each strike dispersing the tendrils. Her silver sacred energy blazed like a galaxy, focused on one target:

Bai Ci—the source of this atrocity.

The shimmering light cut through what felt like frozen time, a flowing tassel of brilliance—and in a blink, she was upon him.

Teeth clenched, Qi Qiao slashed relentlessly, dodging tendrils while striking at the demon-like figure before her. One slash landed directly on Bai Ci’s throat—yet not a flicker of pain crossed his face.

“Die!” Qi Qiao roared, voice twisted with fury.

Now battered and broken, black annihilation energy eating away at the last scraps of her clothing, she still pushed forward—driven by sheer will—for one final blow.

She could already picture it: her greatsword cleaving Bai Ci in half.

It’s over!

Bai Ci simply watched as a massive arc of silver light passed before his eyes.

He stood still. Slowly, he looked down at his own body. A deep gash ran from his neck down to his abdomen, glowing with sacred silver energy that pulsed within the wound.

Bai Ci tilted his head, puzzled.

What followed would be etched into Qi Qiao’s memory for eternity.

Thick black mist surged from his body, instantly enveloping the wound—like wild ivy spreading uncontrollably across and inside the injury.

The sacred energy, which to any evil entity meant instant destruction, was extinguished in an instant—as if drowned by a tidal wave. It vanished completely.

Fine threads of black mist wove through every cell of Bai Ci’s body, stitching the flesh back together at visible speed. In mere seconds, a wound that would have killed any mortal was fully healed.

“This… is impossible!”

Qi Qiao’s face turned deathly pale.

As Commander of the Holy Heaven Army, she had slain countless demons.

Her sacred blade—forged from pure holy energy—was the ultimate counter to any dark being.

Yet now, everything she believed in shattered.

“Damn it…”

Overwhelmed by helplessness, Qi Qiao backflipped to escape another tendril, creating dozens of meters between them.

What is this monster?

She could sense Bai Ci’s human presence—he was human.

But this terrifying, unnatural power…

A sixth-rank Dark-element Sorcerer? No…

Even a sixth-rank couldn’t stand still and effortlessly dominate her like this.

Could he be… a Demon Lord?

At the thought, Qi Qiao trembled.

“Even so… I won’t run.” Her eyes burned with determination far beyond her delicate beauty.

In Nuo’er Continent, humans were the weakest race. To rise above that, one must become either a Knight or a Sorcerer.

Knights mastered physical combat, ranked from First to Sixth Tier.

Sorcerers, the elite geniuses, could sense one of the Eight Elements of nature. Their mastery determined their rank—First to Seventh Tier.

A Fifth-Tier Sorcerer was rare anywhere.

A Seventh-Tier could unleash forbidden spells capable of leveling entire cities.

Qi Qiao—Commander of the Holy Heaven Army—had shown unparalleled talent since childhood.

At just six years old, she sensed the Sacred Element, something even lifelong sorcerers could never achieve. She became one of the rarest Sacred-element Sorcerers.

Though a sorceress, she never neglected physical training. Through relentless effort, she reached Third-Tier Knight—her speed and reflexes compensating for the typical sorcerer’s weakness in close combat.

By age twenty-two, she achieved Fifth-Tier Sorcerer status—earning her position as a commander in Yundu Empire’s elite force.

And yet, against Bai Ci, she felt utterly powerless.

“Let me see your limit,” Bai Ci said, still unmoving.

Qi Qiao sheathed her greatsword onto her back.

“You’ve angered a Fifth-Tier Sorcerer, monster.”

She closed her eyes, hands weaving intricate arcs through the air. The surrounding space heated up rapidly, gathering into silver orbs of light orbiting her.

Qi Qiao shouted:

“Judgment of All Evil.”
“Holy Sky Flame!”

Meteor-like sacred fire streaked toward Bai Ci, shrouded in black mist.

But Qi Qiao couldn’t see through the darkness. She continued chanting, summoning more fireballs imbued with sacred energy to sustain the assault.

Gradually, the black mist thinned.

Her heart leapt—

Yes! Her Holy Sky Flame, the ultimate weapon against evil, was working!

Exhausted, Qi Qiao ceased her spellcasting. Even for her, such sustained high-level magic drained her rapidly.

The mist cleared completely.

There stood Bai Ci—his flawless, eerily beautiful face untouched. His body unharmed.

And as the last flicker of sacred flame faded from around him, it felt as if Qi Qiao’s death sentence had been signed.

Impossible…

Qi Qiao clutched her chest, whispering in disbelief. Prolonged spellcasting had taken its toll. She could barely stand, collapsing to one knee to support herself.

The approaching footsteps echoed like a funeral bell in her ears.

She knew—when those steps stopped before her, it would be the end.

“Is this… how it ends…”

Head bowed, Qi Qiao silently accepted her fate.

Bai Ci stared at her kneeling form—no emotion in his eyes.

Now fully consumed by annihilation, he seemed ready to erase her in an instant.

He raised his arm. Countless tendrils burst from the mist, wrapping around Qi Qiao. Her battered body was twisted into exposure before him.

Qi Qiao could no longer fight. Her limbs went limp, arms and legs collapsing—she fainted right there, unconscious at Bai Ci’s feet.

Looking at the scene before him—part vulnerability, part tragedy—Bai Ci felt nothing.

“Great warrior.”

“I shall grant you the most solemn funeral.”

Energy coalesced in his hand, forming a massive scythe radiating annihilation.

Slowly, Bai Ci raised the scythe high—ready to deliver the final blow to the fallen commander.

“Hey… stop.”