Chapter 107: Shelter

He was not the type to get easily startled.

Or rather, he only allowed his emotions to show when it was "unavoidable."

Thus, when the first light of dawn touched this barren land, the youth opened his eyes calmly, showing no trace of drowsiness.

His blood could not flow forever. In the middle of the night, despite his best efforts to slow down his self-healing speed, the bleeding quickly stopped.

Cultivators did not get dirty, yet even though his heart felt a strange regret and loss, he quietly used a spell to clear away the thick, nearly stagnant red blood from the two of them.

Zora lacked even a shred of the vigilance a cultivator should have. She was always like this, which was why she always chose a safe place whenever she slept.

Their bodies were cleansed by magic; the specks of blood from killing the elders, the clothes that had rushed from the cultivation world and gathered the dust and sand of the Demon Realm—all became clean, just like the soft dresses he used to wash and hang on the pole to flutter in the wind.

Soft, and cold.

In the darkness, the youth’s hand rose slightly. His wrist was covered in grim, dark scars; the wounds left by the spiritual-locking handcuffs were not easily erased.

He seemed hesitant and a bit timid, afraid of waking her or causing her displeasure.

But when Zora felt the temperature drop and pressed her forehead against his neck, Vane finally lowered his arm.

His palm originally just grazed the fabric of her arm, hovering loosely, while his arm inevitably touched her back.

The entire cave was filled with the sound of a heartbeat—thump, thump—incessant and hurried.

After waiting a moment, Vane raised his other hand, finally forming the posture of an embrace.

He lowered his head, his chin immediately touching the top of Zora’s head.

Vane shifted slightly, pressing his face against the crown of her head—fuzzy, smooth, and cool black hair. Along with the rise and fall of her breathing, his own breathing frequency unconsciously synchronized with hers.

There were still many problems he needed to think about.

This entire matter held many questions.

For instance, her liking for him had not reached the point where she would cleanly abandon everything in the cultivation world—though she didn't care for fame or fortune—to come to the Demon Realm.

The more likely action for Zora would have been to ask out of that tiny sliver of reluctance: "Then can you still stay in the cultivation world?"

That would be her greatest attempt to make him stay.

If he had not yet dug out the Demonic Seed at that time, or if he had already turned demonic, he would have said: "The cultivation world can no longer accept me."

If her feelings were a bit deeper, she might ask why.

But no matter what, the outcome would be Zora saying goodbye with an indifferent face.

Because Vane wasn't dead, and in her eyes, separation was simply not a major issue.

Yet now, she had come to the Demon Realm without mentioning a single thing about the cultivation world.

Her half-measure of attachment was worth Vane’s constant ruminating, yet he never dared to dream she could return an equal amount of love—that would not be Zora.

So, her arrival here must be for important business.

What could he do?

As someone of the Demon Realm, could he help her?

Vane’s thoughts stalled briefly, and he couldn't stop himself from thinking back to the previous day.

The Demonic Seed had been resisting fiercely, and his chest had been torn open, blood flowing like a river.

Suddenly, a sliver of light had abruptly pierced the dim cave, followed by countless rays scrambling to pour in, dispelling the gloom before him.

This was not happiness; it was pain. That light only made him feel a burning sensation.

Then came the hem of the girl’s dress, her sword, and those amber eyes that were softer than sunlight yet brighter than the moon.

Her entire form was gilded in a soft, golden radiance.

Zora would never realize that in his eyes, she looked like this—nearly burning him.

Vane did feel joy at her arrival and their meeting—it was even his "last wish" while being punished.

But strangely, at the very first moment he saw Zora, what he felt was not positive pleasure or reliance.

It was pain.

An endless pain, a pain that gnawed at his heart, the pain of a total failure, the pain of abandoning everything, or perhaps the pain of returning to this land of sin.

For some reason, from the moment the Demonic Seed erupted, the youth seemed to have become a numb doll. He could endure ultimate torture and even calculate rationally after his Master heartlessly abandoned him.

Despised by the cultivation world because of the Demonic Seed, he didn't know how many insults he had heard that day.

All because of his innate, unchangeable Demonic Seed.

Vane, surprisingly, felt no resentment; even the malice and cruelty that usually flooded his heart had vanished without a trace.

He did not feel this was unfair; he didn't feel indignant. He was like a doll, dull to everything around him, with only his brain spinning and his entire mind fixated on the distant girl.

His heart became very, very narrow, only holding enough room for Zora.

His emotions and feelings became very scarce, reserved only for Zora.

It wasn't until he saw her in the Demon Realm that he perceived a pain beyond his wounds—a pain in his heart.

Why? On what grounds?

The brutal methods he used were all directed at monsters and enemies; he had never killed a well-meaning sect mate. He had constantly completed missions for the sect, and whenever there were monsters needing slaughter, the task was usually handed to him.

Being a person of the Demon Realm did not mean he had to atone for Jin Chuyang’s dead disciples.

Having a Demonic Seed didn't mean he knew about it, nor did it mean he couldn't dig it out.

Clearly, you wouldn't even proactively check for a Sword Bone, so why did you default to assuming he knew he carried a Demonic Seed?

Clearly, it was you who mercifully said ordinary people of the Demon Realm are different from demonic cultivators—was he not an ordinary person before entering the sect?

Clearly, it was you who claimed you were only imprisoning him in the Black Suspending Sea for reflection, yet you intended to use filthy methods to take his life.

That pain surged up along with hatred, nearly drowning and suffocating him. He wished he could kill everyone present at that time.

"You really are here," Zora spoke, pulling him out of the sea as if un-tenderly hooking him with a line and shaking him to dry the water.

There was a faint, imperceptible sense of satisfaction in her expression.

Perhaps because of the Demonic Seed, or perhaps because of himself, the fierce malice toward the cultivation world could not be suppressed, yet a sliver of joy forcibly broke through it.

For a time, he did not speak.

"Are you committing suicide?" she asked. Her tone held no worry, only pure confusion.

He wondered what his eyes looked like at that moment to cause her confusion and prompt the question: "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The night breeze blew gently. Vane felt her breathing. His spiritual power circulated, and he soon grew warm.

The youth already had a high body temperature; now he was more like a furnace. Zora’s brow relaxed slightly, and she slept more deeply.

When she frowned slightly in her dreams, he patted her back one stroke at a time, keeping it localized to one small area.

He was still wondering why he couldn't bring himself to search for the discrepancies in Zora's behavior.

—It didn't matter.

While Vane gently patted her back to soothe her, he leaned against her forehead. His eyelids were half-closed as he quietly and aimlessly watched a certain spot on the ground.

It didn't matter.

Regardless of the reason, she had picked him up because of it and had not abandoned him.

Then, that was the best thing.

December Sect.

Several well-known elders had died in the dead of night—this news shocked the entire sect.

Someone tremblingly said he witnessed Zora leaving the sect in the early morning.

Although those elders had sword wounds, it was impossible to state definitively that it was Zora.

"So, where is Zora?" Ling Zhihuan’s tone was light.

"I was only away from the sect for a few days; how did so many interesting things happen?" Shu Ning used her sleeve to hide her face and chuckle. Though it was an extremely gentle movement, her eyes held blatant mockery.

The remaining elders, because they were not blinded by greed, did not proactively seize control. Thus, they had little power and were always suppressed. During the previous Vane incident, their opinions were completely unimportant.

However, they didn't care either, being more concerned with their own affairs.

Hearing this, one elder smiled dryly: "You joke, Elder Shu."

Shu Ning’s elderly face became young, and the woman laughed a few more times.

Ling Zhihuan glanced at her: "Immortal Zhou has also passed away."

Shu Ning’s smile faded slightly, but she quickly recovered, as calm as she was indifferent: "Her lifespan was at its end; it's not unexpected."

Having said that, she was the first to leave.

The sky outside the hall was clear for ten thousand miles. Shu Ning looked at the sky, then gazed at the peaks of the Falling Rock Forest. She raised her hand; with a movement of spiritual power, a wisp of clear breeze wound around her wrist.

This was not Zhou Shijin, but merely a breeze she had created.

The atmosphere inside the hall remained solemn. A disciple entered with a nervous expression: "Sect Leader, we—we cannot find Senior Sister Zora! Moreover, the sword wounds on the elders were inspected by the Sword Sovereign; they were indeed made by a Nascent Soul cultivator with transcendent sword skills... there's... only..."

Everyone fell silent.

The truth was already very clear.

No one had expected Zora would do such a thing.

But once the fact was out, someone quickly supplied a reason: she likely had feelings for Vane.

"She must have done it to seek revenge for him!"

This speculation spread through the sect as quickly as the truth.

"Certainly. Sen—Vane followed Senior Sister Zora every day. She must have done this to avenge him."

One person sighed: "Alas... muddled, so muddled... how could she..."

"Where could she be now?"

"She must have run away! Who wouldn't fear the Sword Sovereign?"

Some felt regret, while others were resentful that she had wasted her talent.

A person passed by, and the group of whispering disciples immediately fell silent, bowing properly: "Senior Sister Turi."

"Mhm." Turi Qi did not say much. She gave an affirmation, her face frozen cold, and walked away quickly.

They only then remembered that Senior Sister Turi seemed to be close to Zora. Her current mood was imaginable. Thus, the group murmured for a bit, feeling too embarrassed to continue talking, and changed the subject.

...

How could she have done it for revenge?

Turi Qi walked faster and faster, her knuckles tightening. Then she flicked her sleeve; a sharp wind sliced through, and the sword at her back took flight. She vanished in an instant.

How could she have done it to avenge Vane!

If it were truly for Vane, Zora would surely have left the elders’ lives for him to handle. She believed that taking one's own revenge was what was best for a person.

Capturing the enemy and handing them over to the other person, letting the friend take their own revenge—that was the greatest kindness she showed her partners; it was moving.

But now she had deprived Vane of the chance for revenge. How could it be for Vane—

Turi Qi suddenly felt everything before her become blurred, leaving only one clear point ahead.

When she arrived at the Hall of Seeking Immortals, the elders had already left, leaving only Ling Zhihuan.

Turi Qi’s pace suddenly slowed.

Ling Zhihuan looked at her with a cold expression. She paused and did not say much, only stating: "We need to hurry. We cannot miss the opportunity Zora has given us."

Turi Qi’s heart felt as if it had suddenly dropped into an ice cellar.

The Sect Leader’s words ruthlessly pried open the truth—Zora killing the elders and fleeing was not for any revenge for Vane, but to flatten the obstacles in the path of her friend.

Without the elders, it would become possible for Turi Qi to inherit the position of Sect Leader.

Her mouth opened and closed, but for a long time she couldn't speak.

Ling Zhihuan did not urge her, her heavy gaze falling upon her, silent.

After a long while, the girl’s trembling voice echoed in the hall.

"...Junior Sister Zora is bearing infamy for my sake."

After Turi Qi spoke, she stood in a daze for a moment. No one knew what she was thinking. She lifted her head, having regained her composure.

"If the crimes of those elders are exposed."

Only then did Ling Zhihuan show a smile.

That group of elders played with power only for their own selfish desires. One who often walks by the riverside will eventually get their shoes wet; they were bound to leave behind countless pieces of evidence.

If the crimes of those elders were exposed—

Then Zora would not be a criminal, but a sword cultivator who hated evil and killed with justice. Even her disappearance could be covered up with the excuse of pursuing the demonic cultivators who kidnapped Vane.

But this was the truth. Zora was not wrong to begin with. What was wrong with killing those power-hungry, evil-doing elders?

The two said nothing more, each knowing what the other was thinking. It was silent.

A moment later, Turi Qi gave a bow and said: "This disciple takes her leave."

"You are going to such painstaking lengths, yet perhaps Zora won't care about that reputation."

Turi Qi looked down at the floor, her tone light: "This disciple is merely repaying a debt, recovering what she ought to have for her. Junior Sister Zora did nothing wrong; she did not slaughter the innocent. Even Junior Brother Vane would not do such a thing."

But she actually harbored a sliver of doubt regarding Vane’s identity—not doubting that Vane had done something evil, but doubting that he would ever return to the cultivation world.

The matter of the Demonic Seed was not something she could move alone.

But the matter of Zora was possible.

At the very least, she could ensure that if Zora ever wanted to return, she could do so more comfortably.

...

Next, Sect Leader Ling Zhihuan, grieved by the Demonic Seed and Zora incidents, claimed she had failed her duties and spoke of abdication.

The cultivation world seethed for several days. After all, this was a change of leadership in the premier sect; everyone was watching.

When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter; when the wall is about to collapse, everyone gives it a push. The factions of those elders were still in chaos—a heap of loose sand, lacking the time and ability to stop it.

At least to those outside the sect, Ling Zhihuan was the Sect Leader. They didn't know the intricacies. Even those who did would not look for trouble, as Ling Zhihuan held the natural advantage of her status.

For a time, the news actually overshadowed the news of the missing Demonic Seed.

Zora woke up but didn't move, habitually wanting to sleep a bit more.

She seemed to be unhurried no matter where she was, only concerned with her own rhythm.

Vane followed suit and lifted his head, leaning against the stone wall. His face no longer pressed against her. In the next moment, Zora moved her head slightly and fell back asleep.

After a while, having slept enough, she opened her eyes, sat up, and rubbed them.

Vane watched her and did not speak.

Zora didn't care if he spoke or not. She let out a yawn—cultivators didn't get drowsy, but she was mentally tired and still had the habits of a mortal. Suddenly, she heard a sound outside the cave.

Vane finally spoke: "Last night, a child brought his parents to stay at the cave entrance. He seems to know you. I expect they want to be near us; there won't be any danger."

Some people in the Demon Realm wouldn't rashly seek protection—that would be overestimating themselves. But they would quietly move to live around capable people, "borrowing their authority." At least their living area would be much safer.

"Ah," Zora responded half a beat late. She remembered the previous day. "It's that person."

Turning her head, Zora glanced at Vane’s clean black clothes: "How much longer until your wounds are healed?"

Vane calculated, compressing it to the minimum: "At most one day. We can move tomorrow."

Zora nodded and walked out.

At the cave entrance was indeed the child from yesterday leading the way. He was with his thin, weak parents, huddled in a crevice between rocks. As soon as he saw Zora, the boy immediately stood up, clutching a bag of things, and walked timidly to Zora.

"Ah, ah."

He opened his mouth, only able to make a few sounds.

He was a mute.

Zora watched him curiously.

The boy let out a sigh of relief.

Great, the master doesn't seem to be angry.

He quickly opened the packaging. Inside were several pieces of dry, hard food. From the outside, they looked ugly and difficult to swallow; one couldn't even tell they were buns.

Would she accept them?

The boy swallowed nervously.

Their family was being watched by a demonic cultivator with a bit of cultivation; they were destined not to live long. But the boy still wanted to seek a line of survival.

Yesterday, having witnessed Zora’s sword strike, he steeled his heart and brought his parents to sleep outside her cave.

Then, on the second day, came the offering.

Those capable people wouldn't shelter just anyone; it depended on whether the offering suited their fancy. Those who dared to borrow pressure without permission would be brutally killed.

These buns naturally wouldn't earn shelter, but they had no other way. Yesterday, that demonic cultivator had been afraid to approach because of the pressure emanating from the cave.

The boy didn't know the pressure was emitted by Vane, nor did he know the youth had driven the demonic cultivator away just so he wouldn't wake the girl before him.

He held the buns up in a posture of offering, his thin arms trembling slightly—he was afraid of death.

The two adults behind him knelt on the ground at some point, kowtowing incessantly.

Zora didn't look at the two kowtowing. She looked down at the food shoved under her nose and tilted her head.

...Mhm, it was for her.

She took one and ate it—exceptionally dry and tasteless.

But adhering to the principle of not wasting food, she swallowed it.

The boy showed a look of joy and held the food further forward. The two injured adults finally had the strength to move, stumbling over and tearing open all the remaining bundles by the boy, holding them all up.

The three held the food up together, shoving more things that didn't look like buns forward, devoutly seeking her shelter.

Zora, who had just swallowed the awful bun: "?"

Zora blinked.

She didn't know the "hidden rules" here, but that didn't stop her from seeing someone giving her food and eating it piece by piece.

Chew, chew. She stuffed the broken bun into her mouth, her cheeks bulging as she chewed and chewed.

Because it was particularly dry and hard, she chewed for a long time before swallowing a mouthful.

It was a bit unpalatable, but edible.

...

Vane stood up with difficulty, leaning against the stone wall. The youth’s face was pale and fragile, his breathing not as steady as usual.

From an angle where others couldn't see, Vane witnessed the events outside the cave, his lashes lowering.

...His storage bag had long since been taken away. Aside from his weapon and some spirit tools that recognized their master and could follow him into his spiritual platform, everything else was gone.

For instance, the food she liked.

As long as it was edible, Zora would eat it, but good food and bad food were always different.

Her eyes would brighten a bit when she ate osmanthus cakes. Now, eating those buns, although she was still expressionless, there was only seriousness in her eyes, as if she were completing a mission.

The youth picked up his memories of the Demon Realm from years ago and pondered for a moment.

He had to go scavenge some things. Those demonic cultivators, those who worked for the Demon Lord, those who were high and mighty in the Demon Realm—surely they would not lack food, silk, and the like.

No matter what Zora did in the Demon Realm, the first thing he wanted to do was make her a bit happier.

And then, follow her and achieve her goals.