The calm sea reflected the blue sky, dotted with the sparkling rays of the rising sun. The early morning wind blew gently, carrying the salty mist and the echoes of last night's battle.
Facing that scene, Yumeji gently adjusted her breathing, trying to listen to the beat of her own chest. There was no more sound of metal clashing, no more pressure of death, only the rare silence after a storm.
"You did well."
That voice rang out from behind, calm and gentle, carrying the sadness of time. Yumeji turned around, meeting the deep eyes of the man standing there. Someone who did not belong to this world, but was still here, like a remnant of an obsession that had not yet dissipated.
Jiang Zhu. The spirit image of the war god of the past.
"...You are the first person to say that to me."
Yumeji chuckled lightly, without any trace of humility or gratitude. Simply smiled, as if he had just heard something interesting.
"Is that so?" Jiang Zhu looked at him for a moment, then closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.
"Maybe it's because you never accepted those words."
Yumeji didn't reply, only looking into the distance, where the sun was rising over the horizon. A moment of silence passed before Jiang Zhu spoke again:
"…You and Feng Yue have a strange resemblance."
Yumeji was slightly startled. That name—the name of someone who shouldn't exist in any memory of this world—came out of Jiang Zhu's mouth, like a gust of wind sweeping across the ocean, leaving indelible ripples.
However, the man in front of him only smiled lightly. He didn't delve further into that topic, seemingly satisfied with his previous comment. Instead, he slowly pulled out a small piece of cloth from his sleeve, carefully wiping the hilt of the sword in his hand, as if it were a habit left over from the old days.
"The path I chose was probably a mistake." His voice was even, as if he was recounting a story unrelated to himself.
"But I have no regrets. Because at least I was able to stay by the side of the person I loved until the very end."
Jiang Zhu's eyes shone with a distant gentleness. Yumeji said nothing, just listened quietly. Because even without speaking, he could still understand.
"What about you, Yumeji?"
That tone was no longer a monologue. It carried the gravity of a real question.
"Are you holding on to what you cherish? Or will you be like me—only realizing its value after you've lost it?"
This time, Yumeji couldn't immediately give an answer. He knew he could argue, could say that he was different from Jiang Zhu, that the path he walked was not the same as his. But was that the truth?
Jiang Zhu looked at him, as if waiting for something. But then, instead of forcing him, he just sighed softly, placing his hand on Yumeji's shoulder gently.
"Before worrying about others, cherish your own happiness."
He paused for a moment, then continued.
"Only those who are strong enough to protect what they love can reach out to protect other things."
Yumeji looked deeply into those eyes. A pair of eyes that had gone through so many wars, witnessed so many losses, and now only left a silhouette that disappeared into nothingness.
He didn't promise anything, nor did he utter any words of thanks. He simply remained silent, letting those words naturally sink into the bottom of his heart.
In the end, Jiang Zhu didn't wait for an answer. He just smiled slightly, turned around, and walked towards the waiting Xuan Yuan. The two exchanged a glance, then together looked up at the blue sky. In that moment, they looked like birds that had found a place to return to.
A gentle light enveloped them, bit by bit, like sunbeams falling from the sky. And then, they disappeared, blending into the sky, as if they had never existed.
Kiana walked up to Yumeji, her eyes shining with curiosity but also silence.
"What do you think will happen to them?"
Yumeji didn't answer immediately. He looked down at his hand, where the Xuan Yuan Sword was slowly dissolving after completing its final role. However, right before it disappeared completely, it left behind something.
A short silver sword, with a hollow gem core that had no attributes. No longer a legendary weapon, but simply a tool waiting to be used.
Yumeji curled his lips slightly, it was unclear whether it was a faint smile or simply an unconscious movement.
"They'll be fine."
Saying that, he raised his head and looked into the distance.
Where the blue sea merged with the blue sky, where the dawn spread its brilliant colors.
And he thought, everything had ended well.
He wasn't sure but he had a feeling that Jiang Zhu and Xuan Yuan would have the chance to meet again in the next life, this wasn't a binding of fate, it was just that someone wanted to create an opportunity for them, whether they would continue their previous life's fate or not, or they would live and make a different choice in their new life, no one knew. Because from then on it was their own story.
*At some unknown time in the past*
A man placed a bouquet of flowers on the graves of two people in the middle of a field of flowers.
The wind blew gently, making his white hair flutter. He wore a worn-out cloak and had the appearance of a wanderer with white hair and bright golden eyes. He was Feng Yue, or at least that's what he called himself.
"I have fulfilled my promise, my friend."
He said and looked down at the bouquet of flowers that had been placed on the tombstone. They included the yellow orchids of friendship, Jiang Zhu's favorite white lotus, and the hydrangeas that Jiang Zhu guessed that Xuan Yuan would like. Along with them were Feng Yue's favorite aster tataricus, to imply that he would not forget them. After sitting at the tomb for a while, Feng Yue stood up and left. A gust of wind blew the colorful petals flying everywhere, and in the midst of that scene, Feng Yue's figure disappeared into thin air.
On the two tombstones are engraved the following words:
"Tomb of Ji Xuan Yuan's Lover Jiang Zhu.
And ....
"The Tomb of Jiang Zhu's Lover Ji Xuan Yuan."
**"Here lie two people without blood, without status, without promises. But their love has overcome time, war, fate and destruction.
One is an emperor without a throne, shouldering the storms of ten thousand years. The other is an immortal queen, leading the clan through chaos, defeating Chiyou to protect the peace of the people.
They were never husband and wife, but their love is deeper than the bonds of status.
They walked two different paths, but in the end, they held hands on the same path."**
******
Everything should have ended.
The fierce battle with Chiyou had ended, the winds blowing across the battlefield were dyed red with fire. A happy ending—a brilliant dawn welcoming the survivors. It should have been an extremely peaceful moment, where everyone could breathe a sigh of relief, as the chaos was extinguished under that clear blue sky.
But no.
Plop!
The pain came without warning, a cold spear pierced through his abdomen from behind, carrying the dull sound of metal piercing flesh. Warm liquid flowed out, dripping onto the gray ground below, burning like lava.
Yumeji could clearly feel the spear blade inside him, the feeling of his flesh being punctured, his internal organs being torn apart… But the most terrifying thing wasn't the pain—it was the emptiness. As if there was no longer flesh and blood inside him, but just an empty shell.
"Kihhihi~ Kihihihi~ Happy ending, happy ending? That kind of ending disgusts me! And I know you're the most dangerous one here, handsome guy!~~"
A ghostly voice rang out beside his ear, accompanied by a crazy laugh. The breath on the back of his neck carried a chill that chilled him to the bone. He turned his head slightly and imprinted that figure in his bloodshot eyes from pain. Behind him, was a short woman with short purple-pink hair that covered one eye, with a fierce golden eye like a beast, one hand holding the spear that pierced his stomach, the other hand holding the optical camouflage cloak that she had just taken off before throwing it away like trash afterwards.
"Sin Mal!!"
Bronya's angry scream tore through the air. Her face was still expressionless, but her usually emotionless icy grey eyes now held a rare flash of anger.
"Oh my~ Bronya~ What are you doing?~ Don't worry, I avoided piercing your friend's vital organs~~"
The spear was pulled out of Yumeji's body with a wet, unpleasant sound. His breathing became rapid, his vision began to blur as blood gushed out, soaking the ground below. But then, a strange feeling crept through the pain. Sin Mal stopped, squinting as if he had just realized something strange.
"Hmm? Wait, it feels a bit strange when you stab~?"
She tilted her head, her golden eyes sparkling with a strange interest. And then, without hesitation, Sin Mal thrust her hand into his wound. Her cold, slippery fingers slid between the flesh and blood, groping inside as if searching for some secret.
"Hmm, hmm~~ What is this?~ Are you really human, handsome guy?" You're hollow inside, your flesh and blood and organs are like toys, lacking in real thickness as if there's only one layer to disguise it~ What are you, what are you~~"
Her voice trembled with excitement, like a madman who had just discovered the most wonderful thing in her life. Her blood-stained hand gently caressed Yumeji's pale face, as if she was appreciating a distorted work of art.
"Hey, hey, don't die so soon~~ don't die~ I'm interested in you~"
Bang!
A sharp punch tore through the air. Fu Hua, her eyes blazing with anger, charged straight at Sin Mal with a deadly attack. But it missed.
She had suddenly disappeared.
Instead, above the sky, a black shadow hovered in midair. A mysterious man, his face hidden by a cloak, was holding Sin Mal with one hand, looking down like a superior observing his prey. Then, without any hesitation, he carried Sin Mal away into the deep blue sky.
Fu Hua gritted her teeth, her fists clenched so tightly that they made a cracking sound. She wanted to chase after them. She wanted to crush those two. But… Yumeji's powerless body gradually collapsed, his body falling to the ground
Fu Hua hurriedly rushed forward, catching his powerless body before it hit the ground. His hair smeared with blood, his breathing so weak it seemed like it could stop at any moment.
"Hold on, you foolish disciple! Don't sleep!"
She screamed, shaking him violently, but Yumeji didn't have the strength to respond. Fu Hua gritted her teeth, holding him tightly in her arms, her sharp gaze sweeping over the others—Himeko, Mei, Bronya, Kiana. Panic filled their eyes. Mei trembled, her lips moving but unable to speak. Bronya clenched her hands, trying to calm herself but her body was shaking. Himeko gripped her sword tightly, anger and helplessness intertwined on her face.
As for Kiana…
She bit her lip until it bled, her hands clenched into fists. Her blue eyes were no longer mischievous, no longer mischievous, but only one thing—absolute terror.
The minutes that passed felt like centuries.
No one spoke. There was only the sound of the wind howling over the battlefield filled with blood and corpses.
Yumeji was still alive.
******
Far away, on the cliffs of the Nine Provinces, a figure stood silently looking down at the battlefield.
He was wearing a pure white robe, his golden hair fluttering in the sea breeze. The sunlight shone down, highlighting the clown mask that covered his face. He stood there, observing everything from beginning to end without interfering.
Otto Apocalypse.
He placed a hand on his earpiece, his voice calm but containing an unpredictable tone:
"Rita, can you hear me?"
On the other end of the line, a gentle but firm female voice replied:
"I'm listening, High Priest."
"Change the plan." – Otto lowered his voice, his sharp eyes looking down at the bloody beach below –
"There's no need to arrest him anymore. Send someone to treat him immediately. The medical facilities on the Hyperion are not enough. Take him to a place that can keep him alive."
The connection ended.
He silently looked up at the vast blue sky, as if searching for something. Behind that mask, whether he was smiling or what expression he was wearing, no one could tell.
******
His vision was fading.
No, it wasn't just fading—it was melting. Like an oil painting dipped in water, the contours of reality were distorted, blending together in a daze. Everything seemed to overlap, as if he was looking at the world through cracked glass.
The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs. The salty air of the sea clung to his lungs. But the air was as thick as mud, making it difficult to breathe. Yumeji tried to move, but his entire body responded with a sharp pain that ran down his spine. The numbness was slowly swallowing him.
"…Yumeji? Yumeji, can you hear me?"
Someone's voice echoed from afar. It was unclear, as if it echoed through hundreds of walls, or like the sound of a radio being jammed.
A white light flashed in the sky.
No.
Not a light.
It was a ship.
High above, the Hyperion was landing, its giant jet engines roaring like a beast roaring in a storm. A figure swooped down from the open hatch, silver hair glinting in the reflected light.
Theresa.
Amidst the chaos of the sea breeze and the engine noise, he saw the small figure quickly rushing towards him. There was someone else following her—judging from their attire, they seemed to be Schicksal's people.
"…Yumeji! Stay awake! You can't sleep! Damn it, don't sleep!"
A trembling hand grabbed his face, pressing hard against his cheek as if to pull him out of the haze. Theresa—she was kneeling beside him, her blue eyes shining in the darkness.
"Bring him up!"
A sharp voice rang out, it was none other than Rita Rossweisse, the captain of Schicksal's Valkyrie. As soon as the command was given, a strong arm lifted him off the ground.
The world tilted.
The blood on his chest flowed back into his collar as he was carried up. Pain. The pain tore through his flesh like hundreds of cold knives. But he no longer had the strength to scream. His consciousness was being devoured bit by bit.
The screech of jet engines. The air grew heavier as he was placed on a stretcher in the battleship.
The first sensation Yumeji Satsuki felt when he woke up… was not light, but pain.
His body felt like a torn cloth, torn apart by the pain that pierced his bones. His lungs burned, his breathing felt as if it was being squeezed by something invisible. Each heartbeat was weak and sporadic, as if it would stop in a moment.
His eyes fluttered open in a daze. The sky… was moving? No… it was the sky above the Hyperion. A cacophony of sounds filled his ears, someone's screams, the sound of running feet, the sound of metal doors opening.
"His blood pressure is dropping! He's losing blood too quickly!"
"Hurry! Get him to the emergency room immediately!"
Yumeji's breathing was rapid. He tried to raise his hand, but he had no strength left. Blurry images of people around him were moving rapidly. Someone's face flashed by—white hair… blue eyes filled with worry…
Kiana?
His hand was suddenly grabbed, and a voice rang out through the chaos:
"Don't die, you idiot! You haven't paid me for the meal the other day!"
A tired smile flashed across Yumeji's face, but then everything was dark again.
"Heart rate is dropping! Blood pressure is too low!"
A panicked female voice rang out, probably one of the nurses accompanying Rita.
"Give him oxygen, start the IV now!"
Someone's hand slid across his chest, cutting away the bloody cloth. A needle was inserted into a vein in his arm, but he couldn't feel much more than a cold liquid spreading through his body.
But…
Who knew what was waiting ahead?
"You're not going in?" Rita asked.
Theresa shook her head. "I… am not sure."
Rita sighed.
"There is still hope for him. But we need to go to a better medical facility. Hyperion is not enough."
"…I know."
Inside the emergency room, the electrocardiogram signal on the machine was still flickering. An urgent voice rang out:
"His heart rate is more stable! But it's still not certain! Damn, he lost too much blood. Are the blood test results back yet!?"
The surgeon who operated on him shouted.
The nurse tried to stay calm and quickly spoke.
"Yes, doctor. His blood type is AB."
"Okay, then prepare for a blood transfusion."
The doctor quickly spoke, his face showing a hint of relief but it quickly hardened.
The nurse hesitated for a moment and then continued.
"It's true that this boy's blood type is AB. But it's AB Rh- blood type, doctor."
The doctor was also a bit stunned after hearing that.
"Damn, is it a rare blood type? Do we still have Rh- blood left for transfusion!?"
The nurse quickly flipped through the medical records and replied:
"We still have it, doctor, but only 200ml."
"Damn! That's not enough at all, this boy's body type is estimated to weigh about 65kg, we need about 700ml or more to ensure he can escape the critical state in his current blood loss. But anyway, let's start the blood transfusion right away, we have to prolong this boy's life and hurry up with the importation of more Rh- blood type. Also, ask if anyone in the patient's family has the same blood type as him!"
"Yes! I'll do it right away, doctor!"
Watching the nurse run away, the doctor sighed slightly. He also had a son around the same age as this boy and he died in an accident. So he didn't want this boy to end up like this."
"Young man, you have to hold on."
The doctor said softly and then ordered someone to start a blood transfusion and then perform surgery to prevent further bleeding.
"First, we have to patch up the hole in this boy's abdomen. Medical assistants, please disinfect the wound between his chest and his arm. Prepare the surgical supplies."
[Emergency Room - 13:47 P.M]
The atmosphere in the emergency room was like a tense symphony. Every sound - the beeping of the heart monitor, the swishing of rubber gloves, the sound of surgical instruments touching each other - all formed a chaotic yet orderly rhythm.
The surgeon gritted his teeth, his eyes as cold as knives. He didn't have time to think too much, everything now had to happen instinctively.
"Maintain the blood transfusion rate! Check the blood pressure!"
"The blood pressure is still low, but it's starting to increase! He's not out of danger yet, but at least… at least his heart is still beating."
Another nurse nodded, hurriedly wiping her forehead – not from sweat, but from the drops of blood on her protective glasses.
Outside the emergency room door, a white-haired girl suddenly slammed her hand against the wall.
"Damn it!! What the hell can 200ml do!?"
Kiana squinted into the emergency room through the transparent glass door. Her pale blue eyes were like icy rays, but her breath was as hot as a roaring beast.
Theresa stood right next to her, her face dark.
"Kiana, I know you're angry, but now—"
"Now what?! I don't care about the reason, I just want to know—is there any way to save him?"
Kiana's words were as sharp as a slash, but Theresa didn't react. She just silently glanced at another nurse standing next to her, still holding the blood test list in her hand.
"She can."
Kiana turned around sharply.
"What?"
The nurse timidly handed over a file, on which were written three words:
"Kiana Kaslana – Blood Type B Rh-."
At this moment, the room seemed to fall into a moment of silence. Kiana blinked a few times, as if she hadn't fully realized what had just happened. But then—
"… Fine."
She rolled up her sleeves, and plopped down on the chair.
"Take as much as you want, as long as it's enough to save that guy."
Another nurse panicked:
"Wait! You can't donate too much! Your body won't be able to take it—"
"I'm stronger than anyone else in this room."
Kiana didn't let the nurse say another word. In her eyes, there was only the image of her son lying on the hospital bed with the lights of the machines flashing around him. She didn't know why she was clinging to this hope. She didn't understand why she was so angry.
But there was one thing she knew for sure—
She wouldn't let that idiot die.
The blood line was connected to Kiana's vein, and dark red drops began to drip down the tube.
This was her blood.
And it would flow through his body.
*****
He could hear them. But he couldn't respond. Everything was too far away. But in that distance, something held him back. An invisible thread between him and the people who were fighting to pull him back.
He couldn't die. He couldn't leave them behind.
"...Yumeji, you can't die. I won't let you die."
That voice.
He didn't know whose it was.
But it carried a strange warmth. Like a whisper in the dark night, leading him back from nothingness.
And then, darkness swallowed everything.
******
Somewhere, on the high cliffs along the coast of Kyushu, a man wearing a clown mask still stood looking at the horizon.
The sea breeze blew, carrying Otto Apocalypse's unpredictable thoughts.
"He's alive?" – A vague smile flashed.
"Very good."
The gaze he expressed through the mask seemed to shine with a hint of malice