Chapter Forty: The Sword Hanging Over the Heart

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Haoyun stepped forward to take the lead in battle, completely abandoning Moshān, who remained seated on the ground. His footsteps quickened like the wind, bypassing Haopo entirely as he charged straight toward Haotian. Moshān felt the faintest trace of inner strength returning to his chest, the weakness lessening slightly. The Mountain River Sword in his hand was entwined with crackling lightning, its energy quietly seeping into Moshān’s arm before vanishing without a trace.

“As long as you spare the three of us today, we will owe you a favor,” Haoyun said, raising his hand and taking a step back. The unspoken implication was clear—they would leave, abandoning Ruoxi and Moshān to whatever fate awaited them.

“So it truly is your bond with your brothers that matters most. When lives are at stake, others are the first to be sacrificed,” Lin Kuang laughed mockingly, as if having glimpsed some hidden truth.

“Such is human nature!” Haoyun said coolly, showing no hint of embarrassment. “Everyone is selfish; why should I care about the lives of others?”

He reached Haotian’s side, touched his chest, and with a flash of intense light, slowly stood upright.

“You saw the dark mist in the sky dissipate, didn’t you? You deliberately lured me here to kill you!” Lin Kuang sneered, though the sword in his hand had already been sheathed, the murderous intent dissipated, his aura restrained.

The code of chivalry forbids unlawful violence.

The stronger one’s power, the more inflated one’s ego becomes.

Yet Ling remained like a sword, poised in their hearts; a slight misstep could cause it to strike. Ling ensured that a sense of justice still lingered within them—that rule remained unbroken.

“So, will you break the rules, or repay the favor we owe you?” Haoyun whispered. As a soldier, he had never learned how to speak humbly.

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“If that’s the case, then I’ll take a gamble! Go! I trust you! I once had brothers who would die for me!” Lin Kuang suddenly shifted his tone.

“But!” Lin Kuang’s demeanor changed abruptly. “Today, you must crawl like a dog beneath my crotch! Only then will your brotherly loyalty move me to spare your lives!”

“Weren’t you unwilling to bow your head?” Haoyun murmured, lowering his gaze, his face expressionless. No one could guess what emotions churned within him.

“To beg, one must humble oneself—not maintain a stern facade!”

Today, I want to prove which is more important—dignity or survival. In the age of myths, have there not been those who, unable to endure humiliation, took their own lives? Those who lost all hope in the world?

The humiliation of crawling beneath someone’s crotch...?

Haoyun muttered softly, his face void of any emotion.

“I’ll give you five minutes! Otherwise, Haotian will suffer grievous injury and might not survive!” Lin Kuang issued his final ultimatum. At his level, he was highly sensitive to the warmth of living beings.

Haotian’s breathing slowed, his body temperature dropping rapidly. According to Lin Kuang’s estimation, he could only hold on for five more minutes at most.

After that, he would no longer fall.

He had once believed he had brothers to live and die for. Over thirty years ago, he served in the military, fighting for his country alongside comrades he thought would stand by him to the end. Yet...

The orders were simple: enter the forbidden zone, locate a meteorite imbued with mysterious power.

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Their group of a dozen or so hacked their way through dense thickets, venturing deep into the forbidden zone, the destination lying in a sunken underground pit.

Without hesitation, they leapt down. Inside, bodies lay everywhere—the ground nearly stained black with blood. The deaths were grotesque and varied: some drained of blood, others strangled, and some slain by fellow humans, the corners of their mouths stained with fresh flesh.

They gasped in horror. They had known the mission was strange but had never imagined so many eerie deaths here.

Yet as soldiers, with orders from their superiors, obedience was their highest duty. Even if the danger meant certain death, they had to proceed.

On their path forward, they encountered a strange figure crawling out of the pit. He showed no sign of life, as if a corpse, with no detectable aura. Yet his eyes blinked—proof he was indeed alive, or at least peculiar.

“Who are you?” one asked. Unexpectedly, the stranger drew his sword and charged.

The soldiers became cautious, drawing their blades as well. They tested his strength and found it weak. They sought to end the fight quickly, each strike stronger than the last. Eventually, a blow forced the stranger to retreat, and he tried to flee. The soldiers would not allow it; after all, he was a denizen of the deep underground, seemingly devoid of any vitality.

What if his escape caused a great calamity? They immediately gave chase.