80 Forgive

What had once been Cao Hong's peaceful resting place was desecrated by blood and gore. Even the tranquil willow tree had its trunk and leaves splattered with the rotting fluids of rotting corpses. Only Liu Sumeng and Yuan Xuelan were left standing there, with the soft moonlight finding its way through the forest canopy.

This scene was much too similar to one of Yuan Xuelan's terrible dreams. Only it was real, and he wouldn't be able to wake from it to escape.

A bitter smile twisted Yuan Xuelan's lips. If the Ivory Sword Saint refused to laugh at his foolishness then he would do it himself! "Fuck. I'm really pathetic. I can't believe I let that piece of shit Peng Jipei get the better of me. How…was I so fucking blind! It was damned obvious from the start!"

He sneered at himself and his fool of a cousin. His shoulders trembled with rage, eyes glaring holes into the ground. But he had only himself to blame for blindly casting aside common sense for that insane cousin of his. Turns out Peng Jipei wasn't the only one insane, just fucking add Yuan Xuelan to the list as well!

"It's okay," Liu Sumeng said. Awkwardly, he approached the distraught Yuan Xuelan and thought of all the possible ways that he could quell the younger man's tormented heart. But Liu Sumeng was never good with words no matter how hard he tried. "Please calm down." And like a fool, took another step closer.

The words that were said with kindness only cut in deeper. "Do you think I'm not trying to stay calm!?" Yuan Xuelan lashed out with rage. But in his self-pitying stupor, he hadn't noticed that Liu Sumeng had come closer and backhanded the Ivory Sword Saint across the face.

There was silence but the howling wind and rustling leaves. All the animals in the vicinity had long fled from the onslaught of resentful energy and corpses. Liu Sumeng stood there quietly, a red mark bloomed on his cheek.

Yuan Xuelan could only hear the sound of the slap echoing in his own mind, hearkening the nightmares that chased his sleep. It was an accident. It was an accident. It was an accident!

The words pressed against the back of his throat. "I--" he croaked.

When Liu Sumeng veered his gaze back at Yuan Xuelan, the Ivory Sword Saint only sighed a little, "It's okay."

No…how is any of this okay?

Yuan Xuelan stood there shaking like a fucking idiot. And Liu Sumeng only walked up to him and circled his arms around the younger. The warmth that enveloped him was undeserved. But Yuan Xuelan was selfish. His hands came up as well and he held the Ivory Sword Saint by his waist. The cloth was still damp from the spring but he didn't care.

All he saw was that Liu Sumeng was injured, again. There were red stains on torn white cloth. Yuan Xuelan's vision blurred. A strange part of his mind told him that it was raining. The moon was bright and the skies were clear and it was raining. Something bubbled up from his stomach, an agony that he couldn't name. Like a desperate mutt, Yuan Xuelan lowered his face into Liu Sumeng's shoulder.

"I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," Liu Sumeng shushed him softly.

"I'm sorry…!"

"It's okay." The Ivory Sword Saint's arms wound around him tighter. It was unbearably warm. Unbearably gentle.

He wished nothing more than to beg for forgiveness. But Yuan Xuelan already knew by now that Liu Sumeng was a fool and would give it to him readily. So instead he said, "Is there…Is there anything I could do? Please…"

Liu Sumeng frowned, unsure of what Yuan Xuelan was talking about.

"What can I do, for your forgiveness?" The question was like a prayer and Liu Sumeng had heard it before in a previous life as well.

"..."

And in his previous life, he had stood there foolishly without a single thing to say, Liu Sumeng thought no, he would try harder this time. There had to be some way to get his heart across.

Finally, Liu Sumeng whispered into Yuan Xuelan's ear, "Forgive yourself."

Yuan Xuelan cried. And clung to Liu Sumeng like his life depended on the Ivory Sword Saint.

His heart told him that it did.

…

She had her foot in a watch hole to give herself more leverage when looking over the wall. Her eyes were as sharp as hawks' and could see the man riding away despite being as far as she was.

"Did you get him?" The wolf demon at her side asked. He lifted his muzzle to look over the wall but without her superior sight, he couldn't glimmer what had happened.

Hui Siran lowered her crossbow and clicked her teeth. Her expression was answer enough. "No matter," the She-Wolf General said, "They've already been lured here. Everything is in place so let's just go and prepare."

The wolf demon lowered its head in respect and waited to follow the lady general off the city walls. Hui Siran was as tall as a hulking man with gray hair and golden eyes, signature of the Hui Clan. The black pelt upon her shoulders never seemed to leave its place whether she was marching towards battle or not. To say the least, Hui Siran was a fearsome demon and not a woman to trifle with.

With her in charge, none of the demons that waited for the oncoming siege felt any fear or doubt.

On the other side of the field, across from Xinlie, the cultivator's camp was had similar confidence. The black arrow's powers and origins had to be identified with one of the Hui's but Liu Fumao was undeterred. The heroes gathered at his side, he was more than confident about his campaign. Each of them beheld strength equivalent to at least one thousand mortal soldiers.

It was morning. Dawn's rays slipped past the horizon and shined upon the rows of troops behind Liu Fumao's command. At his side was Liu Suye and his esteemed guest, Sect Leader Peng and each of them was atop a steed too magnificent and proud to be counted as a regular horse.

A row of disciples marched to the front and raised their hands forming a series of hand seals.

The spells unleashed a rain of fire that came down on the demon city, assaulting a thin dark barrier. It wavered under the violent flames but held true long enough for troops to emerge from the gates. Demons poured over the walls as well, like ants crawling over a mound. They donned all shapes as sizes, some like animals other like humans, equipped with claws, fangs, and other odd weaponry that promised bloodshed.

The cultivators stood in their rows with calm elegant expressions. They waited for Liu Fumao's signal. All it took was for him to raise his hand and the army of immortals descended upon the plains. The vanguard pushed forward on flying swords backed by a barrage of spells at their heels.

The two sides clashed on the vast field, swords against fangs, arrows rained from the sky with spells meting with shield, barrier, and blood. The battlefield roared with shouting and gore.

Liu Suye rode in on his steed next to his uncle with Peng Zhugen behind him. He wasn't as cunning with the sword as a traditional Young Master of the Ivory Sword Sect. And instead, the blade he drew from his side was one that could separate into smaller sections and whip out like a serpent and sliced through anything that dared venture too close.

Beside him, Liu Fumao sighed in disapproval but decided to save his scolding for another time and focused on the fiends that were trampled beneath the hooves of his mighty steed.

Peng Zhugen was no pushover either, and commanded winds and gusted about him without messing up his hair. His sword flew around him like a dragonfly, stabbing and slicing any foes that came too close.

There was Chen Leike as well, wielding meteor hammers, and would laugh each time he struck true. Which was almost each and every time he whipped his weapon forth. And almost as proof of his devilish luck, Chen Leike didn't even seem to be looking and was instead trying to chat up an annoyed Xia An. She, unlike the Young Master Chen, swung her wind-and-fire wheels with focused elegance and grace. And while beasts fell around her, not a single drop of blood touched her body.

Slowly but surely, the demons were being pushed back. The cultivators were without mercy and cleaved through any and everything that came upon their way, even the demons that sobbed with surrender.

No one had told them how ugly the affaire of war was.

But they pushed forward. The barrier around the city was coming apart and they wheeled in a battering ram against the tall black gate. The apparatus was fitted with a dragon's head forged from precious ores, its body carved from wood easily thousands of years old. And when it crashed down upon the gate, the reinforcement spells quivered in protest. Upon the third ram, they could hear the splintering of wood.

"Keep going!" Tu Caihe bellowed at his fellow cultivators. The battering ram raised once more.

Peng Zhugen, however, had his attention caught on the battlefield. Something was amiss. He rode up to Liu Suye's side and said, "Liu Ji."

The whip sword was dislodged from a fallen demon. Liu Suye, who had dismounted from his horse, looked up at his childhood friend, "What is it?"

"Something is odd." Peng Zhugen's eyes were scanning the field. He watched his fellow cultivators slice through demons as if they were nothing at all. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find evidence of some sort of hidden array or spell either. Still, his suspicions refused to quell.

Liu Suye's expression was grave. He too, couldn't help but feel that there was something off. "It's too easy," he admitted.

The troops set upon them were all low-leveled creatures that barely posed a threat. It was almost as if they existed only to buy time. But if the threat hadn't been unleashed upon them then…

Liu Suye and Peng Zhugen shared a look, alarmed. They turned their attention to the battering ram but it was already far too late.

The device hauled up and was dropped against the gate. Wood splintered open as the last vestige of the spell that held together its integrity disintegrated. There was only a tiny splinter of an opening the gate but Tu Caihe sucked in the air around him until his belly expanded large and round. When he unleashed his breath, the door was covered with a sparkling frosty sheen. Another cultivator swung his blade at the door and it shattered as though made of glass.

An ominous growl greeted them from the other side of the door and the young cultivator who had foolishly rushed in was not given even the chance to react. A giant maw chomped down on the young cultivator's throat.

A howl resounded from beyond the shadows of the broken gate that was then followed by a symphony of two dozen more.