C17 The Sin Had Never Ceased!

Atop a sheer cliff on the backside of Thvelond, a figure stood defiantly.

"Hephaistos!" Zopyrus snarled, his face contorted with rage as he glared at the towering figure before him, as imposing as a mountain.

On the precipice, there was nowhere to run.

Behind Zopyrus, the golden-haired Hephaistos stood with nearly twenty formidable figures, each one a terror from beyond the Dipl-Mountain rank. Their faces twisted with malice, they were intent on sealing Zopyrus's fate.

"Why? Why are you doing this?!" Zopyrus clenched his teeth, holding the unconscious Kallisto tightly in his embrace, his expression seething with resentment.

"Junior brother, it's a necessity; the world is full of such helplessness. Don't you agree?" Hephaistos sighed, his golden long blade trembling with a fearsome blade aura, its edge unmatched in sharpness.

Zopyrus retreated until his back was against the cliff. A leap would mean certain death.

His heart was full of bitterness. Who had he wronged to deserve such cruel treatment from fate?

He had never known his parents, enduring a childhood shrouded in darkness, enduring the taunts and torments of his peers.

Three years prior, the villagers had bound him to a post, intent on reducing him to ashes.

That night, when he first took a life, thirty-five lives were extinguished. Zopyrus couldn't recall how he managed to escape from Amvaluna Village in the pouring rain.

Joining the Thvelond Sect had plunged him into another three years of darkness, ridiculed and tormented by his fellow disciples.

He had thought he'd finally shaken off the loathsome leech, Ah Fei, and that he might rise to greatness. Instead, he now found himself hunted by the entire Thvelond Sect.

"Do the heavens truly despise me so?"

Zopyrus gave a bitter smile. His light blue robe was now but tattered strips clinging to his frame.

His wounds were deep, revealing bone, and one gash nearly cleaved him in two. His blood flowed like a torrent, staining his garments and the ground where he stood a deep crimson.

"Hephaistos, Thvelond Sect, these forty-seven sword wounds, eighteen knife cuts, and twenty-five punctures covering my body—each one is a gift from you!"

"I've never wronged any of you, nor have I betrayed the Thvelond Sect in the slightest. Sadly, despite my good nature, today I face death!"

"Mark my words, remember a young man by the name of Zopyrus. He will become a vengeful spirit and claim your lives!"

"I've etched your faces and your gazes into my memory. Rest assured, I will return. Whether as a demon or a ghost, my return is certain!"

Under the gaze of many, Zopyrus turned resolutely and leapt from the cliff!

The screaming wind sliced through Zopyrus's skin, causing searing pain!

He held Kallisto close, gazing at the girl who seemed but asleep, and kissed her tender pink lips with fervor.

"Kallisto, I've failed you. In the next life, I'll conquer the world for you!"

"We'll die together, and surely, we'll be reunited in our next reincarnation!"

"Kallisto, in this life, I've rejected righteousness, evil, and even happiness, but I've always believed in you!"

With a final passionate kiss on Kallisto's lips, Zopyrus closed his eyes, resigning to his fate as he plummeted.

In his last moments, he savored the taste of his beloved, imprinting it deep within his soul. Even if they were to part in the next life, this taste would guide him back to Kallisto!

"Zopyrus!"

Suddenly, a figure appeared on the distant horizon, racing towards Thvelond's rear mountain as if possessed.

The earth quaked, the heavens trembled, and the sky darkened as an invisible rage filled the air, threatening to incinerate all in its path.

"Stop him!" Hephaistos's face contorted with urgency upon sighting Clements. Project Slayer was at its most crucial juncture, and he would not allow it to be thwarted.

With a thunderous roar, twenty mages of Dipl-Mountain rank unleashed their attacks. A cascade of brilliant sword auras cut through the sky, aiming to strike down Clements in his approach.

Hephaistos turned and dove off the cliff, vanishing into the abyss.

"Back off! Don't make me a killer!" Clements bellowed, his voice resonating through the heavens and earth. With a sweep of his sleeve, a swirling Chaos Energy burst forth, pressing onward and shattering the twenty frigid sword auras into a shower of fragments.

"Puchi!" "Puchi!"

The gale roared past, and twenty mages from Dipl-Mountain spat out blood in unison. Their slender bodies were sent flying, crashing to the ground, devoid of any strength to continue the battle.

"Stop!"

From the depths of the cliff, a figure shot up into the sky.

It was Hephaistos, gripping Zopyrus by the neck with one hand and Kallisto with the other, standing tall in the sky, locking eyes with Clements from a distance.

"Release them, Hephaistos. You know I can't bear that pain again!" Clements bellowed, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets, tears shimmering in his murky gaze as he looked upon the unconscious Zopyrus and Kallisto.

"Chief Elder, I know, I know the day Maeander died, you aged overnight, your sorrow reaching a lifetime's peak!" Hephaistos shouted back, his eyes blood-red with fury, "But I'm out of options!"

"No, if you don't let them go, I'll die!" Clements howled, his chest heaving with such intensity he was nearly brought to tears.

"No, I refuse to let go. My father has been missing for a hundred years, and the Demon Army is encroaching on our borders. You're aware of that!" Hephaistos insisted, his voice raw, unwilling to relent.

"The turmoil that Thvelond endured hundreds of years ago already drained all our reserves. You know we can't survive another upheaval!"

"We've been fighting for five hundred thousand years, shedding blood in fierce battles, and it was no small feat to win back the Guiltlands from the demons!"

"Do you want to see the bones of Thvelond's past heroes, the countless bones of Guiltlands' mages, still lying beneath the frozen border soil? Can you bear to witness rivers of blood once more?" Hephaistos bellowed, his form shaking with rage.

He felt nearly suffocated by the weight of it all.

"Another catastrophe, and Thvelond is certain to fall. Without support from other continents, the Guiltlands will once again be reduced to a mere territory under demon control!"

"The demons' cruelty and cold-blooded nature have already left a trail of corpses across the Guiltlands. Do you truly wish to see such horrors repeated?" Hephaistos shouted at Clements, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Are you using me?" Clements gasped in shock as he stared at Zopyrus and Kallisto in Hephaistos's grip, the full scope of the vile scheme dawning on him.

"Why do you think your cultivation is the highest in the Guiltlands? I have no choice. I wish it weren't so!" Hephaistos bellowed, his eyes nearly bursting from their sockets as tears streamed down his face. He didn't want any of this to happen, but he was helpless to stop it.

"I refuse to let it happen, I don't want to see another soul from Thvelond die. I won't allow it!" Hephaistos sobbed, his roar echoing like that of a madman possessed.

"I understand now," Clements whispered to the empty space before him, exhaling a weary sigh as if resigning himself to an inevitable fate.

The true aim of Project Slayer was to target him all along.

By having Zopyrus kill Judas, and then ensuring Zopyrus's death upon his return, a furious Clements would undoubtedly seek vengeance upon the Fell Lands, purging the Nirvana Kingdom in a tide of blood.

Such a strategy would not only neutralize the demon threat but also shift their focus elsewhere—a cunning plan to hit two targets with a single arrow.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? Do you realize how much Zopyrus has suffered these past three years?" Clements was overcome with sorrow, never imagining that his own kin would conspire against him; that his actions had caused Zopyrus to bear such torment.

It was revealed that the past humiliations Zopyrus suffered at the hands of Judas and Clarkson were orchestrated by Hephaistos, all leading up to this moment.

"I can't worry about that now. For the sake of Thvelond, a few deaths are a necessary sacrifice!" Hephaistos's grip on Zopyrus and Kallisto's necks tightened as he exerted more force.

"I understand," Clements said with a heavy sigh. Then, he slowly turned away.

"It's all over. Don't harm my child anymore. This is the last time!"

With those somber words, Clements's stooped figure shot into the sky and vanished from Hephaistos's view in an instant.

"I don't want you to die!" Hephaistos cried out, watching Clements's retreating figure fade away, his heart aching with profound sorrow.

He never wanted any of this to unfold, but he was the one who had to bring it about; in this world, not everything can go according to your wishes.

"Ah!" Hephaistos's heart-wrenching sobs echoed across the heavens.

In his arms, Zopyrus, marred by wounds and pallid in complexion, inexplicably shed two lines of crystal-clear tears from the corners of his eyes.

Simultaneously!

In the vast expanse of the Fell Lands, spanning tens of millions of square kilometers, not a single human mage could be found.

Only mortals resided here, as any mage who dared to enter would be besieged by demons, instantly pulverized into dust. This grim reality had long since relegated the Guiltlands to a mere satellite of the demonic forces.

At that very moment, within a dimly lit underground chamber of the Nirvana Sect, a pair of eerie, deep purple eyes fixated on an ancient mirror before them.

Reflected in the mirror was the brutal image of Zopyrus using the Immortal Cauldron to reduce Judas to a bloody pulp.

"Zopyrus! I eagerly anticipate our next encounter!"

The voice was detached, and those deep purple eyes radiated an icy chill that could freeze the soul.

This was the gaze of someone utterly remorseless, as cold as a deity—the gaze of a man destined for greatness.