"Although I may not have been a good father, I hope you will forgive my incompetence and find peace in the almighty's grace. I wish you a healthy afterlife."
With tears tracing down his face and hands offering the last greeting to the farer, Taixuan slowly placed the grass blades and flowers that he had picked from the surroundings onto Wusheng's grave and cupped his hands in remembrance.
Clenching onto his heart tightly, he forced his lips to curl into a smile and put up a facade so his son could peacefully fare towards his next journey.
Bowing his head for the final time, Taixuan turned around and began to walk in the opposite direction.
While the world that was witnessing all from the beginning couldn't hold in its sorrow any longer and began to shed tears with a downpour, letting the rain mask the tears, he no longer had the strength to cry.
And just like that, Taixuan continued to tread forward on the rough terrain as his feet led his way towards a single destination—the Mo clan.
He believed that even if they held grudges against Taixuan, if he were to grovel on the ground, rub his nose against the ground, and promise to become their dog for the rest of his life... At least then, they will consider fulfilling his last wish—the Demise of the 7 clans.
For hours, he kept on tracing his way back to his clan under the soft downpour without caring for his body, hunger, or sleep at all.
Gradually, hours turned into days and Taixuan kept walking without resting even for a bit for 2 days.
With his Dantian—the very source of his longevity and power—gone and his Qi vessels collapsed, Taixuan's body began to be influenced by the flow of time as his body completely aged in proportion to his actual age in just 2 days.
Now, with muscles that sagged around his bones and a weak body comparable to a 100-year-old man, combined with the severe injuries that he faced during his battle, even breathing normally was nothing but blatant suicide.
And yet, he had been marching relentlessly for 2 days, just to see the sight that had come to his vision right this instant.
At a distance, there existed the giant, structured walls protecting the city of Lianzhou, the Mo clan's territory... His territory...
However, for several moments, he could not move from his place.
His eyes had caught something that just didn't make sense.
Even though his son, the Patriarch's son was kidnapped, not a single one of them showed any worries.
And now that he was gone from the city for some time, they had dressed the city like a newlywed wife.
Slowly, with trembling steps, he approached the city in his ragged and torn robes—a mere shadow of their past elegance—as crimson color seeped deep within the threads of its fabric, and dilated under the care of rain, creating patches of light red.
Then, as he began approaching the main gate of the city, he saw a large crowd going in and out of the gates while the gate guards were nowhere to be seen.
Confused, he blended in with the crowd and entered the city, and was astonished to see the crowd that bustled in the streets with a smile on their face that he had never seen.
It was... Painful...
'All my life... I had been serving these people like they were my own... And now that my son has died... They're putting on smiles and celebrating this like an auspicious occasion?!'
Taixuan was enraged, but he was powerless.
He wanted to bring them to their knees and let them know how selfish they were; however, he, who was on the verge of collapsing himself, had neither the right nor the capability of doing such a deed.
He simply turned a blind eye to them and proceeded forward to the Mo clan residence.
After a few moments, he finally arrived at the place that he called home for nearly a century.
"It doesn't look like my home anymore..." He mumbled under his breath as he saw long, red, exquisite silk draping all over the residence, putting a nail in his heart.
The gates were wide open and the public seemed to be crowding inside, increasing his suspicion.
As soon as he stepped inside the gate, he heard a familiar voice at a distance.
"Recognizing the Vile deeds of the previous Patriarch, Mo Taixuan, who had fallen into the hands of a demon, we, the elders of the clan, requested assistance from the other 6 great clans to help us save our clan. And after a tough battle and a heroic sacrifice from more than 3000 soldiers of different clans, the demon has been slain! And now, the Mo clan shall prosper once again!"
"From this moment onwards! I, the head of the elders of the Mo Clan, Mo Zhen! Announce that from this day onwards, the Mo clan shall be led by Mo Zixuan! May the Heavens bestow the Mo clan with prosperity!"
The crowd cheered as they congratulated the forthcoming patriarch at the top of their lungs.
Countless gifts from nearby cities were presented at the elder's feet while many dressed in different attire sat on a seat equivalent to that of the Patriarch.
Without a doubt, they were the emissaries of the 6 clans.
Taixuan stood at the gate wide-eyed as though time itself had stopped for him.
The commoners whom he cared for the most after his son, all of them cheered as if they were truly living under the tyranny.
His own blood, which he rooted for the most and trusted as if it were a part of his own body, threw him away like a bug in someone's food.
Dots began to connect and he realized, 'He, who reigns the world as the strongest can not be defeated by a stranger, only the closest can pierce his heart.'
First, the 6 clans. Then, the people, and now? Even his own blood had betrayed him.