Yun Rong slowly opened those weary, profound eyes, glancing at the figure pierced by a spear on the Snow Sword tablet, her beautiful brow dimmer than usual with a hint of elegance.
She shook her head slowly, looking at the demon before her with such a rare good-looking facade in the Mortal World, but his twin eyes were dust-free and clear, devoid of any resentment.
"Doing good is like ascending, doing evil like collapsing, Arao... it's not too late to turn back now."
"Not too late?" Arao's voice drifted, like a kite with its string cut, "The multitude betrays me, the gods do not ferry me, so what right do you have to tell me to turn back?"
She lifted her pale, frail hands, the fresh blood on her fingertips could be washed clean, yet the countless souls that had died at these hands would not rest so easily.
"I've killed countless people, slain countless gods. I've completely severed my own path of retreat. And you advise me towards kindness?"
