Chapter Sixty-Nine: Departing Alone

Our group settled temporarily in the Demon Realm, recovering our strength and waiting for the return of the First Judgment.

Xingyu stubbornly placed a cup of fresh blood on the dining table every day, but I resolutely refused to drink it. Even when Xuelan questioned me angrily, I remained unmoved, so in the end, they could only give up and leave me to my stubbornness, sealing away the blood Xingyu insisted on offering each day. Because of me, no one else was willing to partake of Xingyu’s blood.

Time passed day by day; everyone seemed to have grown accustomed to life in the Demon Realm. Liliel disappeared outside the barrier with Ashius every day, engaged in mysterious activities unknown to us. Xuelan ventured deep into the Demon Realm, challenging powerful demon races and magical beasts to hone her strength. The inability to protect me during the First Judgment’s attack left her deeply dissatisfied, so she seized every moment to grow stronger. The Duke of Wind lingered outside, keeping watch for any signs of the First Judgment, rarely returning to the barrier. Now, within the barrier, it was mostly just Xingyu and me—and, of course, Ang, who stood silently to one side, almost invisible.

“Lilith,” Xingyu approached me once more as I sat quietly before the gravestone, gently tracing its surface.

“What is it?” I kept my gaze on the gravestone, not looking up.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but please, tell me if there’s something I can do for you? The only thing I can offer now is my blood, but you won’t accept it. I know I’ve wronged you, hurt you deeply, and I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. But I beg you—give me a chance to make amends,” Xingyu pleaded.

I continued to gently caress my mother’s gravestone, feeling her presence through my touch. With a faint, distracted tone, I replied, “There’s no need to torment yourself like this. I’ve told you many times—you owe me nothing, you’ve done nothing wrong. All this guilt is yours alone. You’ve already saved my life; even if you had wronged me once, that debt is paid.”

“Why won’t you give me a chance to make it right? I know this puts you in a difficult position, but I truly want to do something for you,” Xingyu said, his voice unwavering.

Hearing his firm tone, I finally looked up at him, observing the determination etched on his face. I stood and began to laugh, mocking him.

“Lilith?” Xingyu looked flustered at the sound of my laughter.

“Are you sure you really want to do something for me?” I asked calmly, unmoved by his panic.

“Of course. I truly want to make up for my mistakes, to do something for you,” Xingyu shouted, his voice loud to cover his anxiety.

I sneered, “You want to do something for me? Yes, you do. But is it really for me? No, you’re only doing it for yourself. You’re trying to ease your own guilt, to escape the reality of Le Xiaoyou’s death. By doing something for me, you can stop feeling tormented, escape the remorse you feel for Le Xiaoyou, at least for a while. ‘We’ll always be friends’—that’s not your true heart, it’s just an excuse, a mask. That’s Le Xiaoyou’s idea, not yours. You’re only using this act to lessen your guilt toward her, and toward me. I’m not the one you want to make amends to; I’m only your tool to ease your remorse, aren’t I?” I finished and gazed at Xingyu with cold, mocking eyes and a disdainful smile.

“No, no!” Xingyu shouted, retreating, clutching his head, his eyes wide as he took in my expression.

“Isn’t it? Is it really not?” I pressed, my gaze unwavering, my sneer unchanged, relentless. “Can you swear to me you’ve never thought this way?”

“I…” Xingyu couldn’t finish his sentence. He clenched his teeth, his fists tight, nails digging into his palms, blood dripping from his hands.

“Nothing’s changed. After all this time, you haven’t changed at all. Even with your power, you’re still the same coward,” I said, disdainful.

“I’m not a coward!” Xingyu finally snapped, unable to endure my scorn.

“Ha, you can’t even admit it? I must have overestimated you after all.” I sighed, watching his angry face, then my gaze turned icy. “Leave. Go away. I don’t want to see you anymore. I don’t want to see your hypocritical face.”

“No, I won’t leave. I’ll stay here. I’ll prove to you that I’m not a coward—I have the courage to sacrifice my life to protect you,” Xingyu shouted angrily.

“Stay here? With your strength, what can you do? Besides dragging us down, what else are you capable of? Who do you think you are? Courage to sacrifice your life for me? Tell me, since I met you, have you ever risked your life to protect someone else? And how many people have been hurt because you wanted to save yourself?” I finally yelled back.

Xingyu was stunned by my rebuke, standing there speechless.

“Ang, send him back to the Human Realm. I don’t want him here, he irritates me,” I ordered.

Ang glanced at me, sighed softly to himself, then answered respectfully, “Yes, Miss.” He grasped the disheartened Xingyu and strode toward the edge of the barrier. “Miss, please take care. I’ll hurry back as soon as I can,” he said as he left.

“Alright, I know. Don’t worry about me. The Duke of Wind is still on guard outside. If anything happens, we’ll evacuate immediately,” I replied.

Ang nodded lightly, then, with Xingyu in tow, tore open space and vanished from sight.

I watched Ang disappear, then collapsed by the gravestone. Tears slid down my cheeks. I was startled, then lifted my hand to touch the drops on my face. I was crying—I was actually crying. In that moment, I didn’t know whether to rejoice or to weep bitterly. I leaned over the gravestone, letting my tears fall and wet the name engraved there.

“Mother, my heart hurts so much. I don’t want to hurt him, but I have no choice. If he stays by my side, he’ll only suffer more, even his life might become too dangerous. I don’t want to see his pain anymore, I don’t want to see him hurt again,” I whispered beside the gravestone, releasing all the sorrow I’d hidden inside, just as I used to do as a child, lying in my mother’s arms, not thinking of anything, not worrying, simply pouring out my emotions.

I didn’t know how long I cried, but it felt as if all the sadness, grief, and remorse of the past poured out and left me lighter inside.

Gradually, I calmed myself, smiling with relief. I gently stroked the gravestone again and murmured, “Mother, I’ve made up my mind. I can’t drag my companions down any longer, but I also don’t want to return to the ancient blood clan castle, where only eternal solitude awaits. So, I might not be able to visit you for a long time. I once promised you I wouldn’t use that forbidden power again, but—I’m sorry—I have to break that promise. But, Mother, you’ll understand me, won’t you?” I confided softly.

I cast one last lingering glance at the gravestone, at the scenery within the barrier—the blooming garden, the verdant vines, the simple wooden cabin. How long would these memories linger in my mind?

While everyone was still away, it was time to leave. The First Judgment—such a powerful being—would it withstand the power I’ve kept sealed all this time? I gently touched my chest, then steeled myself and walked toward the edge of the barrier, tearing open space and heading for the Human Realm.