Bengtie, I'm really not a villain!

At the edge of the battlefield, the remaining waves of demons, like an enraged black torrent, surged and crashed forward once more.

The air was thick with a nauseating stench, a mixture of rotting flesh and malevolent energy, mingled with the heavy stench of death, like an invisible net shrouding this ravaged land.

[In contrast, Raiden Mei resembled a killing machine frozen for a thousand years. Her silver-white hair danced wildly in the wind, yet it could not conceal the almost deathly coldness in her eyes.]

Those eyes were like a bottomless pool in the cold night, without a ripple, without a trace of warmth, as if nothing in the world could stir a ripple in her heart.

She slowly raised the long sword in her hand and swung it out stiffly. A scarlet streak of light, like a bolt of lightning tearing through the sky, instantly ripped through the air.

Wherever the light streak passed, space was twisted into bizarre vortexes, as fragile as thin paper, and the surrounding light also distorted wildly.

The instant the crimson light touched the demon, countless phantom images of spider lilies burst forth from the void like a tidal wave, their petals as vibrant as blood.

Each petal gleamed with a cold light, like an extremely sharp blade, tracing graceful yet deadly arcs through the air.

Before the petals of the red spider lily, they were like fragile, withered branches. The petals pierced through limbs with ease, and wherever they touched, the demon's tough skin and muscles instantly turned to dust, scattering into the air.

Immediately afterwards, eerie flowers bloomed rapidly on its bare skeleton, their petals like greedy tentacles, tightly binding and devouring its soul as well.

Countless demonic bodies collapsed with a crash, turning into piles of broken bones and scattered dust.

More and more demons sensed the threat of death, and they let out desperate howls. These howls intertwined, like a lament from hell.

They began to flee frantically, some demons running in disarray, colliding and trampling each other, creating utter chaos.

However, they sadly discovered that no matter where they fled, the countless spider lilies followed them relentlessly.

Those spider lilies, as if imbued with life, relentlessly pursued the demon, weaving an impenetrable net of death in the air.

Raiden Mei moved forward mechanically, each step leaving deep footprints on the blood-soaked, wrecked ground.

With each swing of her longsword, a shower of crimson petals, as vibrant as blood, rained down. The petals fell like snowflakes, yet carried a power more deadly than the blade itself.

Where the petals fell, the demons' bodies melted rapidly, like thin ice exposed to the scorching sun.

Only the lingering screams and the gradually fading stench of blood remained in the air. It was as if these were the final witnesses to this brutal massacre, carrying with them endless sorrow and desolation.

The entire battlefield was now enveloped in the light of the spider lilies. The originally dark and despairing atmosphere not only did not diminish, but became even more chilling due to its eerie beauty.

This light, so dazzling and blindingly red, seemed to be dyed with the blood of countless lives.

Under this light, the shattered weapons, scattered bones, and dried blood all appeared so sinister and terrifying.

[Raiden Mei, like a tireless perpetual motion machine, continued wielding her long sword without a moment's rest or pause.]

Her white hair flew wildly with each swing of her knife, as if it were an outward manifestation of her numb soul.

On this land stained with blood, she was like a lonely grim reaper, endlessly repeating her killing spree, playing a deathly symphony for this fallen earth.

The monstrous wave that once blotted out the sky, resembling the apocalypse, has now vanished without a trace. All that remains is a sky filled with fluttering spider lilies.

These petals, initially tinged with the stench of blood, quickly began to fade, their terrifying crimson hue fading. They gradually became as translucent as glass.

Under the refraction of sunlight, it seems to contain countless tiny golden rays, each shimmering with a strange light.

As the gentle breeze blew, they fluttered down, like a dreamlike snowflake, tender yet tinged with a sense of desolation, layer upon layer covering the scorched earth blackened by the flames of war.

Looking into the distance, the city of Izumo appears and disappears amidst the ruins.

The once bustling streets of the city are now a scene of ruins, with surviving residents cautiously peeking out from cellars and corners of collapsed buildings where they had been hiding.

They gazed at the spider lilies drifting in the sky, their eyes initially filled with astonishment, as if they couldn't believe the dreamlike scene before them—a primal reaction long suppressed by fear.

[Then, the overwhelming joy of surviving the ordeal burst forth in their eyes, and cheers erupted in unison.]

The cheers, initially scattered, quickly gathered, like a surging ocean wave, emanating from every corner of the city and spreading in all directions, echoing across this land long burdened by suffering.

The thick, inky clouds were suddenly torn apart by an invisible giant hand hidden in the sky. The once tightly connected black curtain shattered instantly and fled in panic in all directions.

Golden sunlight, like a sword breaking through a cage, poured down without restraint. The warm rays fell directly upon Raiden Mei.

[It illuminated her face, which was exceptionally pale from exhaustion and pain, and her head of white hair, stained with countless drops of blood, now gleaming brightly in the sunlight.]

She slowly raised her arm, the long sword in her hand gleaming coldly in the sunlight. Every subtle movement seemed to stir her already stiff joints, as if those joints were encased and frozen solid by layers of millennia-old ice.

The cheers of the crowd, delivered with all their might, echoed, but to Raiden Mei, these sounds seemed to come from a distant shore, indistinct and impenetrable by a thick, impenetrable barrier, unable to reach the depths of her soul.

Chapter 133 Why can birds fly?

The cheers of the crowd, delivered with all their might, echoed, but to Raiden Mei, these sounds seemed to come from a distant shore, indistinct and impenetrable by a thick, impenetrable barrier, unable to reach the depths of her soul.

She dragged her heavy steps, walking alone slowly towards the edge of the battlefield. The sunlight poured down on her without reservation, which should have brought warmth, but she only felt a bone-chilling cold.

The chill seemed to emanate from the depths of her bones, penetrating her very soul. The wind howled and swept in, violently whipping her white hair, strands brushing against her cheeks with a cold, sharp touch, like icy spiderwebs slicing across her skin.

She was perfectly clear-headed, knowing that the demonic wave that had plunged the entire Izumo Kingdom into despair and panic, nearly dragging it into the abyss of destruction, had receded.

At the same time, she was shocked to realize that the emptiness deep inside her had not been filled, but had become even more profound and clear.

Himeko's strict yet expectant teachings still seem to echo in my ears.

[Furibas's kind and simple smile, which always dispelled gloom, is now even more vivid in my mind.]

My mother's gentle, loving, and caring words of advice still echo in my heart.

[And Jing Ye's final smile, tinged with endless self-reproach and apology, was etched into her soul like a brand.]

They gave their lives to secure this hard-won peace for the Kingdom of Izumo.

But now, as peace has truly arrived, Raiden Mei is enveloped by an indescribable loneliness.

She gazed upon the land of Izumo, now bathed in sunlight anew, and climbed a hill step by step.

Standing atop the hill, she looked down upon this newly born land.

[I did it... but why is it still so cold?]

Only the falling petals of the red spider lily, carrying a touch of ethereal tenderness, gently landed on her shoulder. They seemed like a silent comfort, yet ultimately could not penetrate her heart, already frozen in ice, to give her the warmth and solace she truly craved.

Only the falling petals of the red spider lily, carrying a touch of ethereal tenderness, gently landed on her shoulder. They seemed like a silent comfort, yet ultimately could not penetrate her heart, already frozen in ice, to give her the warmth and solace she truly craved.

Raiden Mei stood alone atop the hill, bathed in the warm sunlight that enveloped her completely. The intense heat, meant to dispel the chill, vanished the moment it touched her, as if striking an invisible wall of ice.

Her gaze gradually lost focus as memories of her time with Jing Ye flooded back, playing out in a revolving lantern in her mind.

Jing Ye's icy gaze and the words he uttered were like sharp daggers, piercing straight into her heart and plunging her into an endless abyss of hatred without warning.

Each fierce attack was like a heavy hammer blow to her body, tearing her wounds open and deepening them, causing blood to gush out and excruciating pain.

However, in the quiet of the night, when her eyes inadvertently met Jing Ye's, she could always catch a fleeting, complex expression in his eyes. That expression concealed countless unspoken secrets, like a fog that left her utterly bewildered.

Those heinous and outrageous acts that she once hated so intensely now, in the post-war tranquility, brought back a flood of complex emotions—bitterness, resentment, and doubt—leaving her heart in utter turmoil.

The sunlight was so warm, warm enough to melt away all the ice in the world, yet in this peaceful light, she felt as if she were in a vast, misty forest, completely lost, her steps unsteady, her heart filled with confusion, utterly unsure of which way to go.

The initial deafening cheers of the people below the mountain, filled with joy and gratitude, were abruptly cut off by an invisible hand, gradually subsiding into silence.

They all looked up, their gazes fixed on the solitary figure atop the hill.

At this moment, she was still enveloped in the crimson mist left over from before the red spider lilies dissipated. The mist seemed to have a life of its own, twisting and swirling eerily around her, like a curse from the abyss.

Her long, snow-white hair danced wildly in the raging wind, each strand like a vengeful spirit breaking free of its restraints, exuding endless desolation and eeriness, making her look like a terrifying ghost that had silently emerged from the abyss of hell.

Her face was as cold and aloof as frost, her eyes empty and lifeless, as if her soul had long since left her body, and her entire being exuded an aura of bone-chilling coldness.

This chilling aura, combined with the terrifying power she had just unleashed—transforming demons into spider lilies—created a terrifying aura, like an invisible pressure that made it hard to breathe.

While their gratitude still remained, it was overshadowed and consumed by a deep-seated fear.

They could only stand there, their eyes filled with awe and fear, their legs seemingly nailed to the ground, unable to move, only able to watch her helplessly, none daring to take a single step closer.

They could only stand there, their eyes filled with awe and fear, their legs seemingly nailed to the ground, unable to move, only able to watch her helplessly, none daring to take a single step closer.

Raiden Mei lowered her gaze, slowly sweeping it down over the huddled crowd below the mountain. Her eyes were like a stagnant, cold pool, calm and still.

The fearful and awe-inspiring gazes directed at her passed right through her, yet failed to stir even the slightest ripple in her heart.

Her consciousness seemed to drift away from her body, observing everything before her with the indifference of a bystander.

The moment I lost Himeko, the warm light in my life, like the sun, was suddenly extinguished.

When Furibas left, the joyful memories brought by his hearty laughter were also sealed away.

The sudden passing of her mother robbed her of the tenderness in the deepest corner of her soul.

Jing Ye's passing was like a heavy hammer blow, shattering her last shred of enthusiasm for life.

[The moment Raiden Mei's crimson spider lilies bloomed wildly on the battlefield, she was forever frozen in time on that blood-stained land, becoming nothing more than a blurry memory.]

She gripped the long sword at her waist. Her fingertips traced the hilt; the warmth that had once touched it was long gone, leaving only a bone-chilling cold that seeped through her palms and spread throughout her body.

Protecting Izumo Province—this should have been a glorious and exhilarating mission—now felt like an incredibly heavy shackle, tightly binding her neck.

[Himeko's resolute gaze and the expression on her face when she uttered the words "become the light that illuminates the darkness" seem still vivid in my mind.]

[Furibas grinned broadly as he spoke of "protecting a bright future," his honest and simple demeanor still vivid in our minds.]

[Before her death, her mother tearfully whispered, "Just be safe and sound," her voice still echoing in my ears.]

[The image of Jing Ye, filled with deep regret, entrusting this mission to you, also kept replaying in my mind.]

These words, like invisible yet resilient chains, linked one after another, bound her tightly, from which she could not break free.

Every word, every sentence, felt like a heavy boulder weighing on her heart, making it difficult to breathe.

She walked listlessly down the mountain, the howling wind tearing at her white hair, strands flying wildly, just like her broken yet utterly calm heart.

For her, protecting this land was no longer about her burning faith or her love for it; it was simply about the earnest wishes of those on their deathbeds, those warm but unfulfilled expectations.

She would be like a puppet controlled by the threads of fate, wielding her long sword again and again until the very last moment of her life, using this numb body to fulfill this heavy, suffocating mission.

The days passed slowly in a mechanical, vigilant routine; every day, Raiden Mei repeated the same pattern.

At dawn, she rose and moved through the streets and alleys of Izumo, her footsteps treading over every stone slab, her gaze sweeping over every corner, examining every inch of this land countless times.

Even in the most remote villages and the most secluded mountain paths, her footprints were left. And Takamagahara, once a terrifying land ravaged by demons, was now, through her tireless efforts, reduced even the most ferocious demons to nourishment for the spider lilies under the wielding of her sharp sword.

But the unease that had lingered in his heart since the war was like a persistent, intractable disease, clinging tightly and impossible to shake off.

At first, this unease was just a fleeting ripple in my heart, but as the wheels of time rolled forward, it not only failed to dissipate but, like wild grass growing rampant in spring, grew ever denser and stronger.

Under a clear blue sky, the sun shone down relentlessly, its warm rays bathing the earth. What should have been a pleasant, comforting warmth felt strangely inconsolable to her; instead, she felt as if she were in an icebox, utterly devoid of heat.

She stood silently atop the highest city wall of Izumo, the coldness of the bricks seeping through her shoes and reaching her heart.

Her figure was upright yet exuded endless loneliness; her long, silvery-white hair was whipped about wildly by the howling wind, carrying a touch of desolation.

Her gaze was fixed intently on the seemingly clear sky in the distance. The azure expanse was almost eerily pure, so clear that not a single cloud could be seen.

Occasionally, birds would flit by, their wings outstretched, emitting clear, melodious calls. But to her, these sounds were like the tolling of a death knell, an ominous omens striking her heartstrings with each beat.

Her brows furrowed unconsciously, her two eyebrows tightly knitted together, as if trying to lock away all the world's worries.

The unease in my heart was like a powder keg that had been lit, churning violently and growing ever more turbulent.

She always felt that beneath that seemingly peaceful and sunny sky lurked a veil of malice.

This feeling of unease sent a chill down her spine, as if something monstrous and terrifying would ruthlessly tear apart this brief peace and drag everything back into the abyss of darkness and despair.

However, all that met the eye were quiet streets and alleys, flowers and plants swaying in the wind, and nothing unusual was found.

As night falls silently like thick ink, an ever-present unease engulfs Raiden Mei, engulfing her completely in the darkness.

The moment she closed her eyes, she was dragged into that bottomless vortex of darkness.

[Just as her consciousness plunged into chaos, a crimson explosion erupted without warning within her dream.]

In the center of this eerie sea of ​​flowers, seemingly from the depths of hell, Jing Ye's illusory figure slowly emerged, as if drawn by a wisp of eerie light.

He stood tall and straight, yet possessed an ethereal, almost dreamlike quality; his face remained as cold and aloof as ever.

[These should have been peaceful days filled with smiles, but those eyes that Raiden Mei once hated and feared were now filled with a familiar yet unfathomable complexity.]

Just like the complex emotions Jing Ye displayed each time he humiliated her, like the look of despair on his face as he faced a situation she was utterly incapable of handling.

Why can birds fly?

Jing Ye's voice was hollow and ethereal, coming from the distant, almost nonexistent depths of the void, yet it echoed clearly in her ears, each word reverberating and striking her eardrums heavily.

This seemingly illogical question kept repeating itself, relentlessly entangling her and plunging her thoughts into a quagmire of confusion.

[Raiden Mei wanted to question Keiya why he kept asking her this strange question in her dream, and she also wanted to reach out and grab the illusory figure, demanding a clear explanation from him.]

However, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't utter a single sound.

She could only stare wide-eyed as Jing Ye's illusory figure flickered in and out of sight amidst the sea of ​​flowers, like a candle in the wind.