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The Sword Emperor raised his eyes to the sky. Dusk was settling in.
“It’s uncanny… The scene is just like that day. Twilight drapes the world, darkness on the horizon.” The Sword Emperor sighed softly. “The only difference is that back then, the Four Idols were either dead or mad. Now, they stand whole, and there’s even an extra one among you.”
The “extra” clearly referred to the ancient White Tiger, once estranged, now standing alongside them.
Yue Hongling glanced around, but for the moment, Han Wubing was nowhere in sight.
The Sword Emperor spoke calmly, “If Ye Wuming had been willing to trust the Four Idols back then, or even Jiuyou, things might have gone far more smoothly. She wouldn’t have needed to fight so desperately, to the point of tearing herself apart. But her inability to trust was, perhaps, the most human part of her. Just as I fail to understand why you’ve all so easily placed your trust in me. Was it because I slew Dark Oblivion? They’ve outlived their usefulness, and disposing of them bought me some goodwill. A fair bargain. Besides… that sword strike couldn’t have killed it anyway.”
No one replied. It was not exactly that they trusted him, but yes—by instinct, they had begun to treat this man as a venerable senior or elder.
After all, in most people’s minds, it was hard to imagine someone speaking so casually, so righteously, about cutting down their own supposed allies and using that as leverage. Not even the Four Idols Cult in its most demonic days as a demonic cult would have done something so brazen, much less someone like Yue Hongling.
Perhaps Jiuyou might have done so in the past, but would she do it now?
No wonder Ye Wuming and Ye Jiuyou found trust so elusive. For them, the very concept carried a terrible weight. Piaomiao had trusted Ye Wuming once… and nearly perished, body and soul.
Looking back, the jianghu had always...
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