As the blinding energy faded, silence fell once more.
The swirling winds began to die down, the dust settling slowly across the ruined battlefield.
All eyes were on the two figures who were still standing.
Many thought it might have been a draw, seeing that both of them appeared fine despite unleashing such powerful attacks.
And then—
Clink!
A soft metallic sound echoed.
The tip of a sword fell to the ground.
Everyone’s gaze snapped toward Bai Xinyue.
Her sword—once radiant and proud—had been split cleanly in two.
The blade had cracked down the center, the top half now lying at her feet, quivering from residual force.
She stood still, golden-red flames flickering weakly around her body.
Her hair whipped lightly in the aftermath, her robes torn at the edges, but her gaze never wavered.
Her hand trembled slightly as she looked at what remained of her weapon.
Across from her, Bai Zihan stood steady.
His Eternal Spirit Sword hummed quietly in his hand, still intact, still glowing faintly with lingering Sword Intent.
There were scratches on his clothes, a shallow cut on his cheek—but he was otherwise unscathed.
No words were spoken.
There was no need.
The result was clear.
Even if neither had fallen—even if both still stood—one weapon had broken.
And in the world of cultivators, where weapons were extensions of the soul, that alone said everything.
Gasps and murmurs spread among the onlookers.
“She lost?”
“Her sword… broke?”
“Bai Zihan… won?”
…
Some could hardly believe it, while others—mostly from the Bai Clan—cheered in triumph.
Yue Wushuang’s expression was unreadable.
She remained silent.
Even she couldn’t argue the outcome.
No matter how much she valued Bai Xinyue’s potential, Bai Zihan had proven himself with action, not words.
But that didn’t diminish Bai Xinyue’s value; rather, it elevated it.
After all, it wasn’t just her physique or talent—her comprehension of technique was also extraordinarily high.
Moreover, Yue didn’t think Bai Xinyue lost purely because she was weaker—but rather because her weapon’s quality couldn’t match Bai Zihan’s.
She had used an Earth-Grade Sword, while Bai Zihan’s Eternal Spirit Sword… Yue judged it to be a top-tier Heaven-Grade treasure—something rare, even in the Flowing Moon Sect.
Meanwhile, Bai Xinyue slowly exhaled, her flames receding.
She lowered her hand, letting the broken half of her sword clatter to the ground.
Her heart felt heavy—but not with bitterness.
She looked at Bai Zihan.
Her voice was calm.
“I guess your words weren’t just a bluff.”
Earlier, she had thought Bai Zihan might’ve been acting tough—possibly hiding serious injuries after her Dao Bone awakened.
But that had been a misunderstanding.
He really was fine.
And more than that—he was stronger than she had ever imagined.
Facing him now, all those old insults and rumors about him being a “waste” seemed like a ridiculous joke.
Even after obtaining the Inheritance, awakening her Dao Bone, and activating her Phoenix Physique—she still couldn’t surpass him.
She took a deep breath, organizing her thoughts, her eyes filled with new resolve.
“I’ll go!”
It seemed that, after being defeated, she had made her decision.
“And I will defeat you when we meet again,” Bai Xinyue said.
“Hmph! It’s good to dream big,” Bai Zihan replied.
Then Yue Wushuang stepped forward.
“It seems you’ve made your decision,” she said.
Bai Xinyue nodded.
“Do you have anything left to do here?”
Yue asked.
Bai Xinyue shook her head.
“Are you sure? Once you enter the sect, you may not return for quite a long time.”
“Yes. I’ve already done everything I needed to do,” Bai Xinyue answered.
“That’s good, then.”
Yue Wushuang was satisfied. It was better that they didn’t waste any more time here.
But before leaving, she turned to Bai Zihan.
“You’re quite talented,” Yue Wushuang said.
“Yes. I know!”
Bai Zihan replied arrogantly.
Yue Wushuang’s eye twitched slightly, but this time, she found it forgivable—considering his Sword Intent.
She gave him one final look, then turned back toward Bai Xinyue.
“Let’s go!”
Yue Wushuang raised her hand.
A pulse of majestic Qi surged from her fingertips, calm yet boundless—like the vast sea compressed into a single thread.
Space itself trembled.
Then—
Crack!
A rift opened in midair.
Like a line drawn across the fabric of the world, the air split open to reveal a swirling portal of mist and light—an entrance to a place far removed from the Desolate Heaven Empire.
Bai Xinyue took one last look around.
Her gaze swept across the battlefield—the shattered earth, the ruined terrain, the remnants of war fought over her.
The place where she had bled, fought, endured humiliation, and grown stronger.
Then her eyes turned to the distant mountains beyond, to the empire that had once been her entire world.
The Desolate Heaven Empire!
This was her farewell to it—for now.
Finally, her eyes landed on Bai Zihan.
He stood a distance away, his sword now sheathed, his posture straight, his expression calm—but that glint of arrogance still lingered in his eyes.
Bai Xinyue stared at him silently, her lips pressed into a firm line.
There was no hatred in her eyes.
No regret.
Only determination.
(Next time, I’ll be the one standing above…)
She said nothing—but everything she felt was clear in her expression.
Then Yue Wushuang turned to Qinglan, who stood at the edge of the battlefield, calm and composed despite everything.
Yue gave her old friend a small, genuine smile.
“Thanks, Qinglan,” she said softly. “If it weren’t for you… I might never have found such a gem.”
Qinglan chuckled lightly.
“You’re welcome to take her. But remember—you must protect her at all costs.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Yue’s smile deepened.
“We’ll catch up next time. I’ll treat you to some thousand-year-old wine.”
Qinglan raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I’ll hold you to that.”
She then looked at Bai Xinyue.
“Cultivate well and become strong. If you face trouble, seek out Yue Wushuang—she will help you.”
Bai Xinyue gave a small, respectful bow.
“Thank you, Elder Qinglan… for everything.”
She meant it.
Qinglan had protected her ever since she obtained the Inheritance—then used her connections to summon Yue Wushuang and give her this opportunity to enter the Flowing Moon Sect.
Bai Xinyue even felt a trace of regret for rejecting Qinglan in the past—due to her conflict with the Bai Clan.
Then Yue Wuhshuang turned back to Bai Xinyue.
She placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and with a flick of her sleeve, they both stepped forward.
The rift pulsed.
A swirl of light.
And then—
They vanished.
The portal collapsed behind them with a quiet shimmer, as if it had never been there at all.
The battlefield was silent once more.
Everyone stood in place for a few lingering moments before the spell broke.
Some breathed a sigh of relief. Others exchanged uncertain glances.
The question was clear:
What now?
What would happen to the Bai, Li, and Zhao Clans?
Would they continue the war?
But with the reason for fighting now gone, few believed they would.
What remained now was to return, reflect, and reassess everything after what had happened.
At the very least, Minister Yan was already making plans.
Everything that had transpired—he would need to report to His Majesty.
Especially Yue Wushuang’s intervention, which had shaken the very balance of the Desolate Heaven Empire.
Li Jianhong and ZHao Wutian stayed in the air, looking at the Bai Clan Estate.
The person who they want to eliminate was conveniently taken away, in a sense it was a mission completed.
On other hand, their losses were significantly higher than the Bai Clan and their reputation might also suffer greatly after this.
“Should we continue?”
Li Jianhong asked.
Although he knew it was pointless—destroying the Bai Clan wasn’t possible, not with their Grand Elders still capable of protecting them.
Moreover, even with both of them combined, they still couldn’t defeat Bai Tianheng. That much, he was well aware of.
He only asked because he couldn’t be the one to suggest retreat outright.
After all, Li Jianhong had always portrayed himself as someone bold—someone who charged forward without hesitation, unafraid of the consequences.
Zhao Wutian saw through his intent but didn’t call him out on it.
“No. Let’s retreat!”
He said simply.
“Everyone, we will be retreating.”
He announced.
The soldiers and elders from the Li and Zhao Clans, still dazed from the chaos and intensity of what had transpired, immediately began to fall back.
Though their steps were orderly, there was no denying the bitterness lingering in their retreat.
In the sky, Zhao Wutian turned one final time to face Bai Tianheng.
Their gazes met—two titans standing on opposite sides of a war that had, for the moment, been paused by forces beyond their control.
Zhao Wutian’s expression was calm, yet not without a trace of weariness.
“Don’t fret too much, Bai Tianheng!”
He said evenly.
“What happened today… was inevitable. You would have done the same.”
Bai Tianheng stood atop the cracked pavilion rooftop of the Bai Clan Estate, arms behind his back, his robes fluttering gently in the wind.
He did not respond immediately.
But when he did—his voice was steady and cold.
“Haha… Yes. Inevitable, indeed!”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“And so is what comes next.”
There was no fury in his tone—only solemn promise.
“Be prepared. The Bai Clan will not forget today.”
He paused.
“The reckoning will come. That too… is inevitable.”
A cold wind passed between them.
Zhao Wutian narrowed his eyes slightly, then gave a small, grim nod.
There was nothing more to say.