Chapter 42 Punishment
Chapter 42: Punishment
Luohe realized he had underestimated the intensity of Luo Hongyu’s tribulation.
After just one round, all the defensive treasures he had prepared over the years were completely destroyed, yet still failed to form effective protection.
A lightning pillar pierced through his barrier, forcibly carving away a chunk of flesh from his right waist.
And more such lightning pillars continued to condense in the sky.
“…”
Luohe had lost track of how much time had passed.
Blood loss and physical damage didn’t cloud his consciousness—it was the spiritual impact from the heavenly lightning that did.
He could feel his soul in a precarious, perilous state, like a bowstring stretched to its limit.
If he could endure, he would become more resilient; if not, he would break.
He was now at that threshold.
However, he could vaguely sense that the density of lightning pillars had decreased significantly, and Luo Hongyu’s voice behind him had grown hoarse.
But none of that mattered anymore.
He was already at the end of his rope. He had even given up suppressing the killing energy, allowing it to erode his body, using this pathological method to increase his physical strength.
Just a little longer.
Just a little longer, and the evil inscription would be dispersed by the heavenly lightning.
By then, he would also…
“Hmm…”
Luohe felt as if he heard someone’s voice from the nine heavens above.
She spoke calmly, without joy or sorrow.
“The person behind you is despised by the world and should pay for the crime of blasphemy with their life.”
“But I will ultimately take only one life. Since you have borne this tribulation for them to this point, your fate is comparable to theirs. Taking your life would be acceptable.”
“Are you willing?”
“…”
Luohe supported his damaged body, trembling as he stood up.
“If that’s the case, then die.”
This time, there was no spectacular lightning.
He only felt the figure in the sky flick a finger, and a stream of energy passed through his body.
Then he felt as if his body had been erased from existence.
Vitality, pain, sensation, and that evil inscription…
All reset to zero.
These things had been deconstructed, no longer part of his body.
The being called Luohe was experiencing a process—not too prolonged—of transformation from something into nothing.
“Your fate tribulation has passed. Live well from now on.”
These words were meant for Luo Hongyu.
The endless lightning clouds gradually dispersed, the clear sky celebrated rebirth, the breeze was gentle and the sun warm.
Only the devastated ruins on the ground still chronicled what had just occurred.
Liudi flew back to his side as Luohe quietly lay on the ground.
He was experiencing the curious process of disappearing.
That casually delivered finger strike obviously couldn’t simply erase his body.
Now he was experiencing the process of his soul continuously disappearing and being forcibly restored by him.
Like a tug-of-war, it was fascinating.
Luohe looked at his body; the evil inscription had completely vanished.
And this body naturally began to disintegrate.
Like flower petals scattered in the spring breeze, flying away—quite beautiful.
He heard Luo Hongyu struggling to crawl toward him.
He felt Luo Hongyu’s blood dripping onto his mask.
“You won’t die, you won’t…”
She murmured, her other hand gripping the broken blade of the Lulan Sword.
She intended to use the remaining sword spirit in the broken blade to mend and slow Luohe’s disintegration.
For Luo Hongyu, this was tantamount to killing the Lulan Sword with her own hands.
She gripped the broken blade, cutting open her palm, and the Lulan Sword completely lost its spirit. A burst of brilliant flowing light emerged from it and entered Luohe’s body.
But it was futile.
The flowing light lasted less than two breaths before it was completely extinguished.
The life of the Lulan Sword was washed away like a pebble thrown into a river.
Luo Hongyu looked at the person in her arms. There wasn’t a single intact spot on his body.
Like a clay figure thrown to the ground, comically missing pieces here and there.
Starting from his legs, his body was gradually turning to ashes, dispersing into the world.
Only those eyes, those clear, beautiful eyes.
They had never changed.
She felt this must be a punishment.
She had so many questions she wanted to ask but couldn’t voice.
She had so many words she wanted to say but couldn’t speak.
He was punishing her to live with these mysteries, with his life, marking her future with an indelible pale undertone.
She instantly understood what Senior Sister Gu meant yesterday about her lifelong nightmare.
This must be her punishment.
If the him in her dreams and the him here now were the same person.
If the Luohe who taught her swordsmanship, played with her, supported and understood her, and finally gave everything to her was the same as the Luohe wearing black robes and a fox mask lying in her arms now.
Then undoubtedly, she had betrayed a true heart these eighteen years.
A true heart she could never reclaim.
Did she regret it?
Was she sad?
She didn’t know.
Luo Hongyu had always thought she could distinguish—dreams were dreams, reality was reality.
But when Luohe’s real silhouette gradually overlapped with him in her dreams.
She couldn’t distinguish anymore.
Who was he?
This question that had troubled and obsessed her appeared in her heart again.
But each time it appeared, it grew heavier.
By now, it had become so heavy that she was almost afraid to know.
What should she do…
Luo Hongyu’s hand reached for Luohe’s mask.
Click.
Undone.
Ah, how ugly.
Luo Hongyu suddenly smiled.
Just like herself now, face covered in blood… unsightly.
“Luohe, who are you?”
“…”
His gaze was gentle.
She knew she would never get an answer from his mouth.
So she straightened up and carried Luohe on her back.
By now, his lower body had completely dispersed, making him not so heavy.
But with each step Luo Hongyu took, the bloodstains on her body deepened.
She thought of how in her dreams at Zhishui Peak, Luohe had also been unable to walk, but she had never carried him.
Now she had fulfilled a small wish.
“Come, I’ll take you to see the flowers.”
But there are no flowers here, Luo Hongyu.
Just as in autumn, you can’t hear the cicadas sing.
The cicadas are dead.
Suddenly, Luo Hongyu’s back lightened, losing its weight.
She slowly straightened up. The weather was so nice, the sunshine neither cold nor hot on her body.
She looked back; this place was just as it had been when she first arrived—she was all alone.
A strange fox mask lay on the ground. Luo Hongyu picked it up, wiped it off—it was covered in her blood.
She knew all this must be her punishment.
But what she didn’t know was that the punishment wasn’t over yet.
Just as she finished wiping the blood off the mask, a pain from the depths of her soul struck her.
This pain came from her soul, from her spirit.
She curled up on the ground like a helpless child, holding the mask in her arms.
It was like a trigger, leading her into a memory, a monologue, the world of a strange masked boy from childhood.
You see, Luo Hongyu always got what she wanted.
When she wanted to practice swordsmanship, she practiced.
When she wanted to survive, she survived.
This time was no exception.
When she wanted to know the truth, she would know the truth.
Fate had always been kind to her, hadn’t it?
…
In a small town not far from Starry Moon Pavilion, not particularly remote.
A dusty woman carrying a sword bought a wooden house and was now sitting under a large parasol tree with her eyes closed, resting.
Suddenly, as if sensing something, she drew the sword from her embrace and looked at it.
The sword was dead.
It died along with someone.
She dug a grave, buried the sword, and inserted the scabbard at the head of the grave.
Two simple words were carved on it:
My love.
Afterward, she settled down beside this grave.
She planted many grapes, planted many flowers.
…