Boom!!!

When Zhao Qingcang's palm touched the spirit sealing coffin, the sea-like life Origin within him surged frantically toward the stone coffin!

The power of the spirit sealing coffin received an unprecedented supplement, skyrocketing!

The previously stagnant coffin lid once again made a heavy grinding sound, pressing down with the force of ten thousand catties!

"No!!"

Qinze Taichiro let out an unwilling roar.

He could feel a force several times stronger than before acting upon his snake heads, and his hard skull was being crushed inch by inch.

"Using both of your lives just to Seal me! Is it really worth it?"

Zhao Qingcang's body also began to age rapidly.

Those eyes, which had once commanded thousands of troops and struck terror into the hearts of his enemies, also became cloudy and lost their luster.

In just a few short seconds.

His body became incredibly ancient.

But his hand pressed against the coffin lid remained as steady as Mount Tai, unwavering.

"Aaaaah!"

Amidst Qinze Taichiro's final roar of despair and unwillingness.

The two snake heads jamming the coffin lid were forcefully pressed back into the coffin.

Rumble!!!

The heavy coffin lid closed completely.

The complex runes on the coffin body lit up with a blinding golden light, then quickly dimmed.

Everything returned to silence.

The sea breeze stopped abruptly.

The massive whirlpool, large enough to swallow heaven and earth, dissipated into nothingness as the lid of the spirit sealing coffin sealed tightly.

The ocean, which had been boiling and roaring, calmed down in an eerie manner.

Only that huge stone coffin, floating above the sea and exuding an ancient, weathered aura, cast a heart-palpitating shadow under the moonlight, silently telling of the tragic scene that had just occurred.

On top of the stone coffin.

Two figures still maintained their final postures.

Zhao Qingcang's broad palm pressed tightly against the center of the coffin lid, like a towering mountain, suppressing all evils in the world.

Marshal Deng Qihe stood by his side, his withered hand resting on his disciple's shoulder. His extremely aged face had long since stopped breathing, yet it still wore a relieved and gratified smile.

The two of them stood there quietly.

They looked like stone sculptures that had weathered ten thousand years of wind and frost; even though the spark of life had gone out, their spines remained as straight as ever, piercing the sky like sharp swords.

*Drip.*

A drop of either seawater or dew slid down Zhao Qingcang's already graying temples and dripped onto the stone surface of the spirit sealing coffin.

The crisp sound shattered the silence.

Immediately following that.

A gentle breeze blew past.

There was no gruesome scene of flesh and blood flying as imagined.

Marshal Deng Qihe's body, which had long since burned out its last drop of oil, dissolved into countless sparkling spots of light in the wind.

The firefly-like spots of light danced, circling Zhao Qingcang twice as a final farewell, before soaring straight up and merging into the vast starry sky.

"Teacher..."

In Zhao Qingcang's weary eyes, the final trace of light completely dissipated with the departure of those spots of light.

His body also began to disintegrate.

Starting from his fingertips, it turned into golden dust bit by bit.

Yet, the hand he pressed against the coffin lid did not loosen even a fraction until the moment it completely vanished.

Nagato Port, Temporary Command Headquarters.

A dead silence filled the headquarters.

Although the monitoring screen had long gone black, with the complete disappearance of Zhao Qingcang's energy fluctuations, every Great Xia soldier present could clearly perceive—

Those two white jade pillars that supported the sky of Great Xia had collapsed.

*Thud.*

The bearded lieutenant general, who had been clamoring to charge into battle earlier, felt his knees go weak and knelt heavily on the ground.

This tough man, who would bleed but never weep, covered his face with his hands and let out a muffled sob.

"The Marshal... is gone..."

Some took off their military caps, some wept uncontrollably, and some bit their lips tightly until they bled.

In the corner.

Qi Zhenyun turned around.

This usually elegant and easygoing old man was already streaming with tears.

He walked to the command console and pressed the button for the army-wide broadcast with a trembling hand.

*Zzzt... Zzzt...*

The sound of static crackled.

Qi Zhenyun's voice, deep and filled with endless sorrow and solemnity, echoed in the earpieces of every Great Xia soldier.

"All forces of Great Xia, hear my command."

"I am the Acting Commander-in-Chief, Qi Zhenyun."

"Just now... our Supreme Commander, Marshal Zhao Qingcang, and former Marshal, Marshal Deng Qihe, sacrificed their own bodies in the Nagato waters to successfully Seal Sakura Country's SS-Rank Professional, Qinze Taichiro."

His voice paused.

Qi Zhenyun used every ounce of his strength to roar out those final words:

"The two Marshals... have heroically died for their country!"

Qi Zhenyun straightened his back and saluted toward the direction of the Nagato waters, a military salute so standard it was flawless.

He roared into the microphone with all his life's strength:

"All forces, attention!"

"Salute... to the Marshals!!!"

"Farewell, Marshals!!!"

The next second.

Whether they were generals or privates, the severely wounded or logistics soldiers.

Hundreds of thousands of Great Xia soldiers raised their right hands in unison at the same time, facing the sea.

"Farewell, Marshals!!!"

"Farewell, Marshals!!!"

"Farewell, Marshals!!!"

The solemn and stirring roars gathered into a visible wave of sound, shooting straight into the sky and dispersing the dark clouds that filled the air.

...

Meanwhile, in a courtyard in Donghai City.

Zhou Huai suddenly sat up from the bed, his chest heaving violently, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

He gasped heavily and looked around.

The familiar ceiling, the familiar room, and a faint scent of herbal medicine lingering in the air.

"Young Master!"

Uncle Fu, who was guarding by the bedside, was startled by this sudden movement. Then, wild joy surged onto his face, and he rushed forward in one stride, his voice trembling.

"You... you're awake?"

"Just now, I saw you suddenly faint, and no matter how I called, you wouldn't wake up. You really scared this old servant to death!"

Uncle Fu looked at him nervously, his cloudy old eyes filled with worry.

Zhou Huai came to his senses, looked at Uncle Fu's face written with concern, and then looked down at his own hands.

He tried to clench his fists.

His knuckles were distinct, his palms warm, and he could even feel the subtle movement of blood flowing through his veins.

"I'm fine."

Zhou Huai spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse, but his thoughts were incredibly clear.

He looked up, and instead of the relief of surviving a disaster, there was a hint of strangeness in his eyes.

"To be precise, I have never been in such a good state."

At this moment, Zhou Huai's head was incredibly clear, without the slightest feeling of dizziness, let alone that sharp pain of his soul being torn apart.

It was as if the haze that had long enveloped his spiritual world had been instantly swept away by an invisible hand, revealing a cloudless sky.

This feeling... was too abnormal.

He seemed to have thought of something; his expression suddenly changed, and he abruptly pulled off the thin quilt covering him.

His legs, which had long since lost all sensation, came into view.

He stared intently at his toes, trying to control his legs.

The next second.

Zhou Huai's pupils shrank suddenly.

That big toe, which had been stiff for so long, actually... curled slightly.