Pillar of Yita

The room was empty, with nothing unnecessary left. The man’s gaze finally settled on that pile of Xiangzi, and he picked up the picture frame at the top. He seemed quiet, with a stubbled chin and slightly drooping mouth. His gaze, through the reflection of black-rimmed glasses, fell on that photograph:

In the photograph, the cheering boy looked just as he did years ago, as if time had frozen at that moment. The image, captured with old technology, now seemed slightly aged. But truth be told, it wasn’t that long ago—just seven or eight years back. Yet it felt like it had been as long as a century.

The memories from that time have become somewhat unclear —

He gently took out the photograph, turned it over, and saw some small writings on the back:

’Zhang Yu, r.e.D, Flutter_b, Ag,——R.’

As he looked at each name, the man’s eyes slightly narrowed.

Until an urging voice came from outside. ”F, how much longer?”

The man set the photograph down and resumed his nonchalant demeanor, turning his head back to respond: ”Quicker than you’d imagine.”

The clean, handsome face appeared outside the door, smiling slightly:

”Being single, finishing so fast isn’t a good thing.”

F also chuckled softly, looking at the latter: ”Seems like you’re in a good mood, cracking these old jokes. What’s up, did Demon Moon praise you as a ’good kid’ again?”

R’s eyebrows twitched uneasily at this and retorted:

”Speak human language.”

F gave a faint smile, looking enigmatic, ”You asked for it.”

”Alright, I’m not here to joke with you,” R sighed: ”How’s the preparation?”

F shrugged, ”I told you, quicker than you’d imagine.”

But R wasn’t looking at him, his gaze passed over his shoulder, directed toward that empty wall—there were still a few shelves left on the wall, which should have been filled with their hard-earned honors.

But those honors, like the current state of the wall, had long vanished, becoming things that existed only in memory. Even the memory might have faded; people might recall everything that followed, but the center of the storm at that time was deliberately downplayed...

He turned his head back. ”But you must remember, it’s been years since you’ve been there. Technology evolves rapidly, and what we knew might not be cutting-edge now. The intensity of Super Competitive keeps rising, you should be aware of how outstanding the newcomers are.”

”But still a bit behind me.”

R watched his companion without speaking.

”Alright,” F shrugged again: ”You know, I’ve always paid attention to the community. You say I’m not doing proper work, but haven’t I always been doing proper work?”

”The stuff in the community still has gaps from reality.”

”For some, yes, but have you forgotten that person?” F smiled: ”Truth is, he brought all of us out, and you as well...”

R couldn’t help but recall that person.

But he quickly snapped back, interrupting: ”Alright, I get what you mean—let’s preemptively wish for our success, may the goddess of fortune smile upon us.”

”I remember, you originally didn’t believe in the gods of Eteliria.”

”But everyone needs to believe in something once.”

F laughed heartily.

”Leave it to me,” he adjusted his glasses, ”Looks like some people won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

R looked at him, for once without retort.

...

Ye Hua stood on the hill, looking at the scattered corpses around him.

Under the chill moonlight, the surrounding Forest had long vanished. He bent down to grab a handful of soil, watching as it visibly turned to sand in his palm. A gust of wind blew, and the sand slipped through his fingers, disappearing without a trace.

Surveying his surroundings, the Imperial Knights of the King of Sand had finished clearing the battlefield and left. He was alone in the desert—the temperature at night dropped quickly, and as the night wind blew, there was already a slight chill. The Ranger King let out a breath, the moisture clinging to the air, turning to frost, becoming a faint white mist.

He took a few steps forward, pausing, and flipped over one of the corpses. His gaze fixed firmly on the black pattern on its neck, shoulder, silent.

An indescribable feeling lingered in his heart.

He paused for a moment, then continued forward, repeating the action, until he had meticulously examined each of the hundred headless corpses.

Finally, he straightened up, standing in the night breeze.

A flood of fragmented images flashed through his mind.

From the Battle of Bain thirteen years ago, until later—

He picked up a Broken Sword from the ground, looking at his reflection in the blade’s gleam. After hesitating, he released his grip, throwing it far away.

The Broken Blade traced a Flash, falling down the mountain.

Ye Hua clapped his hands, then slowly descended the hill.

The young man holding a sword had been waiting for him below.

...

After securing the sail, Fang Hong, feeling a bit uneasy, dropped the rope from his hand, looked up at the night sky—the countless Stars above were like myriad gazes, silent, quietly observing everything.

Beyond the Lone Sail in his sight, he saw beneath the small boat, Ye Hua was leisurely walking over with the Longbow on his back.

The Ranger King arrived beneath the small boat, looked up at it, and spoke: ”Ade, I have something to say to you.”