Night Journey

Chapter 32 Sacrifice
The corpse of the Deathbird shattered into pieces on the ground, the source energy reaction within its body became stagnant, the flames that had been burning were extinguished one by one, and even the surging chaotic power that had overflowed was shut off.

ended.

Ciri thought with relief that with the death of the Deathbird, the surrounding gray fog stopped boiling, and this dark night finally came to an end.

"Teacher, we won."

After a moment of confusion, Cillian turned his head and a dilapidated, sickly face came into view.

Nunn stood there, stunned.

As the deathmatch ended, the source energy reaction within Nunn's body gradually decreased, and his source energy-transformed body also returned to solid flesh and blood.

Nunn was covered in horrific wounds, riddled with holes, like a broken rag doll.

"teacher……"

Ciri's voice trembled. He wanted to reach out and help Nunn up, but he was afraid that the slightest touch would cause the already frail body to collapse completely.

Nunn remained silent, calmly gazing into the darkness, his vision obscured by shadows and bloodstains.

He slowly began to speak, "Is Mick dead?"

Cillian remained silent.

“I have never married or had any children, but I have adopted many children.”

Nunn murmured, “But later they all died before my eyes, and I executed them with my own hands.”

"I thought I would get used to sadness, but each time it torments me and leaves me battered and bruised. Later I thought, maybe I should change the name?"

Nunn's face was filled with sorrow. "I no longer see myself as a father, but as a teacher, and the children as students."

“I thought this would reduce my emotional investment in you, after all, the pain of losing a student is always less than the pain of losing a child… I couldn’t fool myself, I was so wrong.”

Many years ago, Nunn had already cried all his tears and could only speak in a pale voice.

“Mick’s sacrifice was full of glory, and his body should not be desecrated by demons.”

Mick fell not far from Cillian. Cillian had only walked a few steps when he found his young brother. The horrific wound stretched across his waist and abdomen, with only a few bits of skin and flesh barely connecting them.

Cillian picked up his body; it wasn't heavy, just very cold and frosty.

Nunn reached out and stroked Mick's face; his withered face showed no expression.

"Let's go."

The two staggered toward the burning wreckage, encountering one demon corpse after another along the way, all killed by sharp swords.

As the warm light drew near, Cillian saw the survivors hiding in the light, as well as Tim, who was wounded but still held firm in his place.

"Did you win?"

Upon seeing Cillian and Nunn's return, Tim's face lit up with joy. Then, he noticed Nunn's numerous wounds and the corpse that Cillian was holding in his arms.

A profound silence engulfed Tim.

Tim said quietly, "I thought I would never see another brother die."

Nunn said without any emotion, "I also swore that no student would ever die because of me again."

Sadness, anger, confusion... a complex mix of emotions gripped their hearts.

Mick once said that the Soflowa brothers would never be separated, but he was the first to leave.

The survivors in the firelight, their faces filled with fear and despair, huddled together, anxiously shifting their positions, trying to find a spot closer to the firelight but not one that would burn them.

No one knows what Nunn is thinking. Is he reminiscing about the past of White Cliff Town, or is he mourning the dead?
"Cillian, what was that power at the very end?"

The chaotic power released by the Deathbird froze and stagnated even Nun, but Ciri broke through this constraint.

Cirien made no attempt to hide anything, standing beside Nunn and opening his palms.

"It gives me strength, a blessing."

"Blessing?"

A glint appeared in Nunn's eyes. "Only a very few beings possess the ability to bestow blessings. Could it be a conquest..."

Halfway through his sentence, Nuen smiled helplessly, “This blessing must be closely related to your background.”

Ciri rubbed his burning palms together. After a night of fighting, he had finally figured out the power of this blessing.

Blessings and nurturing all things.

This blessing itself has no fixed ability, but it will adaptively evolve into specific abilities based on Ciri's experiences and environment.

Thus, all phenomena evolved into bestowing blessings and hating anger and malice.

In addition to its initial extremely high resistance to chaos, it also possesses a growth ability: whenever Cirion hunts down a powerful enemy of chaos, it increases its own soul essence concentration.

At the same time, the more he fought against the chaos, the happier he became, giving Ciri a comprehensive boost, restoring his physical strength, source energy, and even regenerating his soul essence.

It can be said that as long as there are enough Chaos enemies and Cirion has the ability to kill them, Cirion can fight indefinitely.

Nunn didn't ask too many questions about the specific power of the blessing. He just stood there upright for a long time before taking another step and walking towards the firelight.

“Cillian, didn’t you once ask me what choice I would make when I faced death?” Nunn said. “Actually, I’ve had plans for this for a long time.”

“In my plan, I will leave once Baiya Town is on the right track and has the ability to survive in this wilderness.”

Nunn recalls his fantasies and guilt from many years ago.

"Even after a hundred years, I still remember the way I came, and I will return to the dark world along that path."

I will fight relentlessly to find traces of the Yangkui clan, even if all that remains of them are corpses, I will fight and die alongside them.

Nunn's self-talk was tinged with a helpless smile.

You might ask, why?
Why expend so much effort just to die? How can I put it? Perhaps it's a kind of regret?

Nunn suddenly stopped, turned his head, and looked at Cillian.

"Regret is like a sword hanging over your head, constantly reminding you that you had the chance to turn things around, but you failed to do so. It is like a ghost that lingers around you all day long and appears in your nightmares."

A strange chill lingered around Cillian, as if the ghost Nunn had spoken of had truly arrived, gently stroking Cillian's cheek.

“Yes, that’s it,” Nunn said remorsefully, “that possibility.”

"Perhaps, if I had worked harder, all those terrible things would have been turned around; perhaps, if I had been stronger, not so many people would have died in Baiya Town; perhaps..."

"Teacher, you have already done your best!"

Cirien spoke loudly, interrupting Nunn's morbid thoughts.

“No one will blame you for your helplessness…not even yourself.” After a long silence, Nunn came to the blazing fire. The intense warmth dispelled the cold, as comforting as a mother’s embrace.

“Cillian, this fire won’t last much longer.”

The pure white of the soul essence gradually dimmed, and the severed limbs that Nunn had thrown into the fire earlier were almost completely burned away.

Normally, it could burn for at least several days and nights, but tonight the smog was too thick, which accelerated its consumption.

"The rest of the soul essence has also been completely corrupted... No one else can die tonight."

Nunn's gaze hardened as he spoke.

Cillian froze, realizing what Nunn was about to do. Just as he was about to stop him, a strong sense of despair and helplessness washed over him.

"Teacher, is this your choice?"

Cillian had never felt so exhausted that he could no longer stand and knelt down.

Nunn touched the wound on his abdomen and comforted him, "It's alright. Even if it weren't for this, I wouldn't have made it to dawn anyway. In fact, this sacrifice makes my death more meaningful."

"The essence of my soul flowing within my remaining body will ignite a pure fire to protect you until dawn."

Cillian stared blankly at the ground.

He wanted to stop Nunn, but he also understood that only in this way could the survivors live.

remorse.

Cillian was now feeling remorse. If he had been stronger, perhaps he wouldn't have had to make Nunn make such a sacrifice. In fact, he could have nipped them in the bud when the Deathbirds caused chaos.

"What...what are you talking about?"

Tim stared at the two men in confusion, not quite understanding what they were saying, but he had already instinctively sensed the terrible truth.

“It’s nothing, Tim. You are a student I’m proud of…you are my proudest kid.”

Nunn forced a smile and encouraged Tim, "Look at all these corpses. You have a strong sense of responsibility and courage, which is great."

After saying that, Nunn warned Cillian.

“Cillian, I don’t know what happened, but I’m certain that the Death Clan is not extinct, and they are still pursuing the bloodline of the Sunflower Clan.”

"Until you are strong enough, you must conceal your clan and never let anyone touch your blood."

“I don’t expect you to rebuild the clan or anything like that, Cillian. That’s my mission, it has bound me for life, and I shouldn’t impose it on you and make you continue this ascetic practice.”

He smiled, whether it was relief or numbness, it was hard to tell.

"This Boiling Sword came from my teacher and fought alongside me for many years. It shouldn't have perished in the sea of ​​fire with me."

Nunn handed the Boiling Sword to Cirion, offering words of comfort.

“There’s nothing to be sad about, Cillian. You should be happy for me. I fought to the last moment of my life and continued the bloodline of the clan.”

The Yangkui clan still stands.

Now, I will be reunited with my blood relatives.

Ciri stared at Nunn's retreating figure, his blood freezing into a lump.

Nunn said that they would join forces to dispel the chaos and end the powerful enemy; they were the last bloodline of the Sunflower Clan, and the sacred fire was smoldering within them…

These are all false lies.

Only Cillian survived to the end, not Nunn.

From the moment the battle began, Nunn was prepared to die... no, many years ago, even before Nunn had left the dark world, he had already lived in harmony with death.

It's absurd that for so many years I've been living and fighting alongside a dying man.

He was the only one to return victorious.

Ciri murmured, "Father..."

Nuen gazed at the blazing fire, his heart filled with longing.

"We are born of fire, and we should die in fire."

He didn't turn around, but offered his blessings.

"Child, go live the life you want."

Finally, Nunn calmly walked into the firelight, without a cry or a sob, and nothing but the crackling of the flames.

This was the last time Cillian would ever see Nunn. His figure gradually hunched over, like burnt-out firewood, shrinking smaller and smaller...

Everything seemed so peaceful, as if Nunn was not heading towards death, but rather up the stairs to heaven.

The pure white flames rose continuously, dispelling the approaching gray mist completely.

The survivors knelt and prayed continuously around the fireworks.

Cillian laid down Mik's body and bathed with Tim in the warmth left by Nun.

Countless jumbled thoughts filled Cillian's mind, like a kite with a broken string, drifting helplessly in the air.

Ciri didn't know how to express his pain, nor did he know who to confide in; he could only endure it silently.

Like everyone else, he endured it devoutly.

As the gray fog dissipated and dawn slowly rose from the edge of the dark horizon, it illuminated the devastation of White Cliff Town and the numb expression on Ciriana's face.

"Let's go, Tim."

Cirien straightened up and sheathed the Boiling Sword.

"Now is not the time for sadness; we still have a lot to do."

Cillian forced himself to be calm and strong, suppressing the soft and complicated emotions in his heart.

"Before nightfall, we need to gather enough soul essence to last the night, rebuild our defenses, check the condition of the survivors, and if anyone has been corrupted by chaos, we need to cleanse them..."

The more Cillian spoke, the more his voice trembled.

"I'll search to see if there are any other survivors. You move everyone to the armory room; it's safe there."

Cillian tried to fill his mind with work and responsibility, but he was still overwhelmed by the overwhelming sorrow.

Tim nodded silently, looking at the exhausted survivors, and he had a strange feeling that the tragedy was far from over.

The bright sunlight descended upon the world, sweeping away all the gloom.

(End of this chapter)