After finishing speaking, he ignored the terrified and fearful gazes directed at him, smiled faintly, waved his hand, and headed straight toward Mount Wenjian.

Chapter 8: Hatred

“How long has it been?”

A calm, gentle voice drifted in the wind, like intimate lovers leaning on each other’s shoulders, softly whispering in each other’s ears.

Behind Mount Wenjian.

The resting place of many elders, core disciples, and direct heirs of Lincoln Sword Sect who have fallen.

At this moment, a man was sitting on the grass-scented ground, leaning against a jade-green tombstone, his forehead gently resting on the stone, his expression gentle and peaceful.

A breeze swept back and forth across this hill dotted with tombstones.

It stirred some fallen leaves behind the hill, making them swirl and dance in the air for a while before carrying them off into the distance.

From time to time, beside some cracks in the stones, one could see clusters of white snow orchids, tenaciously growing in the gaps between the stone-paved paths, their vibrant blossoms full of attachment to life and a longing for growth.

New life!

A cemetery, under the spread of snow orchids across the hills, looked like a beautiful painting brimming with vitality.

“How long has it been?”

The man leaned against the jade tombstone, gently asking, as if two lovers reunited after a long separation; even placed in this picturesque forested mountain, he seemed perfectly at home.

As if...

He truly belonged here.

Belonged to this cemetery.

“Counting the days, it should be six years.”

The man murmured to himself, a slightly contented smile on his face: “To be precise, it’s been two thousand two hundred and ninety-six days.” As he spoke, his gentle gaze fell upon the jade tombstone he leaned against: “Tell me, did I remember correctly, Olivia?”

Olivia.

On that jade tombstone, a few small characters were clearly inscribed.

“Tomb of beloved daughter Olivia Lincoln.”

Below, the name of the person who erected the stone.

None other than the current leader of Lincoln Sword Sect, the demigod Samuel Lincoln, who was planning to pass the position of sect master to Eric Longman.

“Heh... If you don’t speak, I’ll take it as your silent agreement. After all, you’ve never really had your own opinions, have you?”

The man in green smiled, his expression as gentle as ever.

Yet, within that seemingly forced gentleness, a trace of bitterness and pain could not be concealed.

“Olivia, do you know? So much has happened in these six years.”

As he spoke, the man in green casually tossed aside the dark red sword in his hand, as if discarding something he didn’t care about at all.

If, at this moment, Hannah Grant, one of the top ten elite disciples of Lincoln Sword Sect’s outer sect, were here, she would recognize this sword as the terrifying Supreme Demon Sword—the very one that instantly obliterated the high-level martial artist Steven Scott.

And the man in green before her was none other than the current master of the Supreme Demon Sword, Xuantian Sect.

“I obtained a sword—a sword that even I don’t know whether it’s right or wrong, good or evil.”

Xuantian Sect spoke, gently reaching out to wipe a bit of dust from the jade tombstone, his expression full of tenderness, seriousness, and care.

“But I think it must be a bad thing. The person who gave me this sword never had good intentions.”

“Hoo.”

He blew, sending the dust from the jade tombstone into the air, then adjusted his posture, leaning his back against the stone. It felt as if he and his beloved were sitting back to back in this field of snow orchids, carefree in the breeze, gazing at the blue sky...

A lifetime seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.

“But it doesn’t matter anymore. It really doesn’t. Whether it’s right or wrong, as long as I feel it’s wrong, then wrong is right; if I feel it’s wrong, then right is wrong too, isn’t it?”

At this, Xuantian Sect paused.

With his silence, the whole world seemed to fall utterly quiet.

“The only regret is that when holding this sword, I cannot harbor resentment, cannot feel fear, cannot be angry, nor can I give rise to greed or desire. Otherwise, I would become its sword slave, and the consequences would be dire... Well, Olivia, you know, I’ve always wanted to be a good person. Even when I went undercover in Holy Demon Hall and did those heinous things, my heart never stopped yearning to return to Lincoln Sword Sect and uphold justice. So, holding this sword is a kind of supervision for me. You don’t need to worry at all.”

As Xuantian Sect spoke, he still managed a faint smile, even joking a little.

However...

In the next moment, the smile on his face gradually faded.

A silent coldness appeared on his face.

“But...”

“Hatred...”

Xuantian Sect spoke calmly, but in his tone, there was an unmistakable chill that sent shivers down the spine.