At the entrance to the Sect Hall, Zhu Xuelian respectfully cupped her fist and bowed at the waist. This greeting was directed to the eighteen elders standing on the opposite side of the chamber.

“This Zhu Xuelian greets the esteemed elders,” she called out. “This junior apologizes in advance for her lack of understanding, and hopes the elders will be patient and lenient with this disciple.”

She doesn’t make an excuse, like the obvious fact that she is unaware of the happenings in the world due to her six months of unconsciousness. She doesn’t beg for mercy, cry or scream. In fact, she acts as though it is not obvious why all the Core Disciples, of no less than three major sects, are here, or why there are three Arks in the sky, or why so many elders are present.

“May this disciple approach?” Zhu Xuelian asked, only slightly raising her head.

Elder Huang looked at the other elders, then nodded. “You may approach, disciple Zhu.”

With those words, the three of them approached.

“Only the disciple may approach. The two of you remain there,” an elder wearing the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion robes spoke.

Wu Yulan glared at him. “Who are you to give orders to me?” Her words bit as sharp as steel, which is not an exaggeration; the sword force in each sound made the hairs on the elder’s arm stand up straight. “Mind your place.”

“You dare…!?” The elder’s shoulders rose, as if about to launch himself at Wu Yulan.

Wu Yulan reached for her sword, and her overwhelming aura descended truly on the place in its entirety, for the first time, and plunged the surroundings into an ephemeral feeling of frigid ice.

“It’s all right, Yulan. The two of you wait for me here, all right?” Zhu Xuelian said, resting her hand on Yulan’s.

Wu Yulan frowned and then looked at the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion elder.

The elder in question had an unsightly expression; there was anger, certainly, but Zhu Xuelian also noticed a tremor in his eyelids and dilated pupils. Fear.

This atmosphere of fear was present in all elders, to varying degrees. Though they all focused on Zhu Xuelian, none of them allowed Wu Yulan or Yun Fei to leave their field of vision, and they seemed ready for anything.

“Zhu Xuelian, regarding your earlier words, does that mean you do not know what the current situation is?” An elder of the Seven Killing Swords sect spoke.

This time, Zhu Xuelian did not smile at this elder, or show the same kind of respect as she showed to the others. “This is correct. I just woke from my slumber, and then was summoned here.”

“Speaking of your slumber, do you know what caused it?” Another elder, this time from the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion asked.

“My breakthrough did, elder.”

“Your breakthrough?” the same elder asked.

“Yes. I sacrificed my cultivation and my martial arts to kill the future Patriarch of the Seven Killing Swords sect,” Zhu Xuelian said, with a tone of pride in her tone.

The atmosphere immediately changed. There was a rising hostility from the disciples and the elders of the Seven Killing Swords sect.

“How did you accomplish that? I never heard of such a method,” the same elder asked.

“I dedicated myself to a grander ideal.”

These words were a slap to their face. In one sentence, Zhu Xuelian both refused to explain and ridiculed their own ideals.

Wu Yulan couldn’t help but smile. “And you said I was mean,” she whispered.

“What is this… ideal of yours, disciple?” With a hint of anger, the same elder continued, perhaps trying to provoke flaws in Zhu Xuelian’s reasoning.

After a pause, Zhu Xuelian confidently responded.

“Yaoyue.”

The elders were confused. “What… who… is Yaoyue?”

Zhu Xuelian smiled. She had waited, in a way, for six months to tell someone — anyone — how amazing Yaoyue was, so she did not hold back.

“Yaoyue is my life. Everything I am now, it is thanks to Yaoyue. When I was lost and abandoned, when I was left with no choices but to die, when I had nowhere left to go, Yaoyue showed me the way forward. I strive for the apex for Yaoyue. I dedicate my heart, soul, and life to Yaoyue. I—“

“Enough!” One of the elders shouted.

Zhu Xuelian frowned and drew in a breath.

“Are you making fun of us?!”

“Not at all, elder. Everything I said—“

“I said enough!”

Zhu Xuelian narrowed her eyes. She didn't like being shouted at. After a moment, she asked: “I do not see my master. Where is Elder Qin?”

“We ask the questions, disciple.”

Zhu Xuelian looked at the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion elder — the same one that offended Wu Yulan — and frowned again. Slowly, her eyes narrowed into thin slits.

There were many stories of Zhu Xuelian now, though she was largely unknown until six months ago. These stories described Zhu Xuelian as a principled and restrained cultivator, who would always yield to the righteous path.

However, this was simply not the truth, and these elders, if they believed those stories to profile Zhu Xuelian, made a terrible mistake.

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“Wu Yulan, kill the next one that doesn’t answer my question," she said. Her tone was such that it almost sounded like she wasn't serious; it was airy, higher pitched, and light. She almost sounded polite.

However, wordlessly, Wu Yulan took a step forward and rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. Her center of gravity was low, and she was ready to draw at any moment. There was no restraint or jest in that stance and mannerism. She meant it.

This time, Zhu Xuelian spoke coldly. “I don’t make it a habit to ask twice, but I am making an exception this time. Where is my master? Where is Elder Qin? I wanted to see her.”

Rage, humiliation, and killing intent filled the ranks of the elders as they regarded the three with waning restraint.

“Elder Qin cut her ties to the sect, and departed.” Elder Huang was the one to answer Zhu Xuelian’s question.

Zhu Xuelian smiled, somewhat relieved. “This disciple understands.”

Another slap to their faces. This disciple understands, meaning, she would also cut her ties with the sect and leave if she could, after seeing this state of affairs.

“I’ve had enough of this!” An elder of the Seven Killing Swords roared. “Zhu Xuelian, due to your unlawful execution of Yu Shun, you are to be executed and your possessions to be transferred to the Seven Killing Swords sect!”

“Unlawful?” Zhu Xuelian asked. “It was a sanctioned duel. The only lawful execution here is my execution of that man.”

“You dare to speak nonsense, even now!?” The elder roared.

“Nonsense?” Zhu Xuelian asked again. “Which part of my statement is nonsense, elder? Please enlighten this junior.”

“You…!!”

“He himself stated that my fate was to die at his hands when he accepted the duel,” Zhu Xuelian continued. “Not only did he die, but he said at his hands. You would be going against your young master’s wishes.”

“And fate,” Wu Yulan pointed out.

“That also.”

Their faces were red. They were livid. It would only take one of them to lose composure, for all of them to launch themselves at Zhu Xuelian and tear her from limb to limb. Yet, the way she stood there, defiantly, gave them all pause.

The way she never mentioned his name, but only referred to him as that man also threaded needles of fear in their hearts, and they did not know why. How deep must a hatred be for it to scare even elders, who lived hundreds of years? This was not the Zhu Xuelian they heard about.

She was polite and, in her own way, deferential, but her uncompromising dignity also belied the kernel of extreme, pure violence lingering in that heart. It is this violence, perceived through the lens of hatred Zhu Xuelian had for Yu Shun, that scared them. Coexisting with devils was foolishness, everyone knew this, but Zhu Xuelian wasn't merely a sword cultivator, with an affinity for solving problems through violence. She was a weapon wrought from whatever hell she was put through at the hands of the man whose name she would not speak, and whom she destroyed so utterly, he did not even leave a corpse behind.

But she was only in the Qi Condensation period — how could she not feel terrified of their killing intent?

Zhu Xuelian sighed. “I understand why the Seven Killing Swords sect wants me dead, and my possessions transferred to them, but I don’t understand why you want me dead.” Zhu Xuelian said, looking at the other elders. “Your surprise attack did not go so well?”

These words seemed to simultaneously placate the Seven Killing Swords elders, while also humiliating the elders of the other two sects.

“You lost the entire war? Three on one?” Zhu Xuelian asked.

“Don’t speak of matters you don’t understand!” Elder Mo of the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion roared.

“This disciple humbly requests, once more, for the elder to enlighten her on the parts she doesn’t understand,” Zhu Xuelian said.

“I am warning you, Zhu Xuelian; if you continue this, not ten Wu Yulan will save you. We will kill you on the spot,” Elder Mo said, coldly.

Zhu Xuelian stepped forward, defiantly. “There is no need for that. If you admit to me that you lost the war, kowtow to me three times, and beg me to help you, I swear that I will gladly give up my life, here and now.”

The elders all had enraged expressions, their hands balling into fists.

“There’s no use pretending; everyone knows. I knew the moment I saw the Seven Killing Swords Ark over the Sect Hall. You used my duel and the confusion when I killed the future patriarch of the Seven Killing Swords sect to launch a cowardly surprise attack. Even after this, you lost the war that followed, three against one, and now, as part of your surrender agreement to the Seven Killing Swords sect, you need me to die to avoid the mistakes of your cowardice and incompetence,” Zhu Xuelian said, wearing a disgusted expression. “Admit it. Kowtow to me. Throw away your dignity if you dare to demand I die with mine!”

Wu Yulan took another step forward, footfalls falling like thunder, heralding the approaching storm.

But no one looked at Wu Yulan. They were all focused on Zhu Xuelian. The disciples and elders could feel the presence of that tyrannical sword they felt that day when they watched Zhu Xuelian kill Yu Shun. It was there — or at least the memory of it was. Like they stood before an empress who could not be defied. The way she stood so proudly — a mere Qi Condensation cultivator now — as if she was the sovereign of her fate, and not they.

“Zhu Xuelian,” Elder Huang spoke softly. “Don’t make this difficult. We did not lose the war. We agreed to cease hostilities for everyone’s benefit—“

Wu Yulan burst into laughter before the elder could finish.

“My apologies,” Wu Yulan whispered and bowed. “This Wu Yulan learned something new after all. How to admit defeat, without admitting defeat!”

Elder Huang frowned; he looked more sad than humiliated by Wu Yulan’s words.

“That is quite right,” Elder Huang said and stepped forward. As he approached, Wu Yulan did not stop him. “Zhu Xuelian, will you please enlighten this elder: what do you think you can accomplish here? Even if you had your previous cultivation, you would stand no chance here. Are you hoping that you can at least take some of us out before you die? That sounds like you, but I am sorry to disappoint you; we are all ready for that outcome.”

“Elder Huang, I am just a sword cultivator. I don’t know how to do hidden schemes,” Zhu Xuelian said, truthfully. “I just came here to hear my own master and elders tell me why I deserve to die. I want to know the reason."

Elder Huang stopped in front of Zhu Xuelian and looked down at her with a gentle expression.

“Then I am sorry that you wasted your time,” Elder Huang said. “You won’t find that here.”

Suddenly, the door burst open again, and slammed into the walls, just like before, and everyone looked toward the entrance.

“I, Lei Yangming, of the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion, have come to court death,” a voice shouted from the entrance. “Zhu Xuelian is the most righteous cultivator of our generation, and I will gladly share her fate.”

“I, Mu Jingyu, have come to seek death—“

“I, Tian Li—“

Disciple after disciple poured into the main chamber, expressions as grim as if they were determined to make this the final day of their existence, with weapons at the ready, and pride in their step.

They were not the same people that Zhu Xuelian left at her mountain peak, because in the echoes of her final words to them, they realized that the reason they could never achieve the same heights as Zhu Xuelian was because the devils in their hearts were also their limits.

Zhu Xuelian — a Qi Condensation cultivator — stood proudly and defiantly in front of forces that could tear her to pieces, and she appeared without a shred of hesitation or fear. So why couldn’t they? How could they ever strive for anything when they cannot strive beyond their lowly selves?

Zhu Xuelian — a pathetic Qi Condensation cultivator — was ten times their measure. No, a hundred times! A thousand!

“I, Ren Jinhai, no longer fear death. I welcome it. Zhu Xuelian’s fate is my fate.”

“I, Sun Yongzheng, refuse to live under the same heaven as the devils in my heart. Zhu Xuelian’s fate is my fate. Her friend is my friend. Her enemy is my enemy.” He lifted his sword toward the elders. “Which one are you?”

Elder Huang looked at the approaching disciples, and for a moment, Zhu Xuelian thought she saw tears in his eyes.

Then, Elder Huang turned around to face the other elders.

“I, Huang Fei, now seek death, if you want to harm my disciples, you will have to…”

Before he could finish, the elder from the Heavenly Mountain Pavilion, the one that was admonished by both Wu Yulan and Zhu Xuelian finally snapped, rushed forward, and thrust his sword through Elder Huang’s chest.

“Then die, already.”