Chapter 46: Human Realm Unbowed, Sword Master Slumbers

After the battle at Tian Duan Cliff, wind and snow fell for a full three days.

The snow was heavy, as if it intended to bury all the fresh blood, broken swords, shattered armor, and bones on the ground deep into the white.

Yet no one allowed them to be hastily covered up.

Chen Shanhe led the Northern Garrison Army, collecting the fallen one by one.

The Sword Pavilion Disciples gathered the swords.

The Green Blade Camp Sword Cultivators erected steles.

People from the Wan Tong Merchant Association dismantled carriage planks to make coffins; Shen Wanjin stood personally in the snow, his nose tip frozen red, yet he never returned to the tent.

He said, "These are all debts."

Others asked, "Who owes them?"

Shen Wanjin remained silent for a long time, then said, "The Human Realm owes them."

Lin Xiaoman and the people of the History Camp had hardly closed their eyes for nearly three days and three nights.

They knelt in a makeshift wooden shed, their fingers cracked from the cold, yet they still wrote the register stroke by stroke.

Name.

Native place.

Where they died.

What they said before dying.

If there was no name, write their features.

"Nameless Sword Cultivator, right arm severed, gray clothes, died at the Third Sword Ring."

"Veteran of the Northern Garrison Army, 'Zhao' carved on chest armor, still held the banner before dying."

"Wan Tong Merchant Association Clerk Liu Suanpan, died protecting the medicine chest; inside were thirty-seven packets of blood-stopping powder, none damaged."

As Lin Xiaoman wrote this, his hand suddenly trembled.

He remembered that young clerk who always loved to settle accounts with him.

Liu Suanpan had once said with a smile that after the battle at Tian Duan Cliff, he would open a shop in Capital City; he had already thought of the name: "No Loss."

But he died.

He didn't even take a single copper coin with him before dying.

Lin Xiaoman wiped away his tears and continued writing.

Because Jiang Che had said, record it clearly.

Victory cannot be just a single phrase of "great victory."

At dusk on the third day, Jiang Che finally woke up once.

He lay in the main tent temporarily erected at Tian Duan Cliff, his face so pale it was nearly transparent.

The Green Bamboo Sword lay beside his pillow, its blade's light dim, like a piece of green bamboo that had lost its vitality.

Xie Tingxue guarded inside the tent.

Her shoulder wound had not yet healed, and there was little color on her face.

Seeing Jiang Che open his eyes, she immediately leaned forward: "You're awake?"

Jiang Che's throat was dry: "Water."

Xie Tingxue helped him sit up and fed him a small sip of warm water.

After Jiang Che finished, his first question was: "How many died?"

Xie Tingxue fell silent.

Jiang Che looked at her.

Xie Tingxue said in a low voice: "The Northern Garrison Army lost over three thousand six hundred in battle, Sword Cultivators lost over four thousand one hundred, and the Wen Jun Army, Merchant Caravan, and History Camp lost a total of over one thousand seven hundred."

Jiang Che closed his eyes briefly.

Nearly ten thousand people.

He won.

But the price of winning was nearly ten thousand bodies buried at Tian Duan Cliff.

Xie Tingxue said softly: "They knew why they died."

Jiang Che said: "I know."

Precisely because they knew, it weighs heavier.

Chen Shanhe's voice came from outside the tent: "The Young Master is awake?"

Jiang Che said with difficulty: "Come in."

Chen Shanhe, Xie Wuya, Shen Wanjin, the elder Jiang Ling, Lin Xiaoman, and others entered the tent.

Jiang Ling was helped in.

This elder who had guarded the cliff for thirty years, after the battle at Tian Duan Cliff, was now completely spent, his lamp oil exhausted.

He looked at Jiang Che, smiling with great satisfaction.

"Young Master, the Human Realm has been held."

Jiang Che tried to rise, but Xie Tingxue pressed him down.

Jiang Ling waved his hand: "Do not move. I came to bid farewell to the Young Master."

The expressions of everyone in the tent changed.

Jiang Che said in a low voice: "Grandfather Jiang Ling..."

Jiang Ling smiled: "I have lived long enough. To see this day is already Heaven's generous favor."

He trembled as he took a Stone Sword Fragment from his chest and handed it to Jiang Che.

"This is a fragment of the Sword Stele of the First Generation Cliff Guardian."

"I have guarded it all my life; now I hand it to you."

Jiang Che took it.

The fragment was light, yet it felt as if it bore a thousand years of wind and snow.

Jiang Ling looked out of the tent and murmured, "The Jiang Family is no longer the only one guarding the cliff."

"How good."

After saying this, he slowly closed his eyes.

Silence followed.

The tent fell deathly still.

Chen Shanhe turned, wiping his face.

Jiang Che gripped the Stone Sword Fragment tightly, and after a long while, said softly:

"Bury him at the cliff entrance."

"Let him watch over the Sword Vein."

Everyone agreed.

Jiang Che, mustering the last shred of his spirit, asked again, "How is the Capital City?"

Shen Wanjin immediately replied, "Lord Gu sent a letter: the draft of the New System has passed the Council Hall's preliminary review. Representatives from each province are arriving in the Capital City one by one. After news of the great victory at Tian Duan Cliff spread, the hearts of the realm have finally settled."

Jiang Che nodded.

"That is good."

Xie Wuya said, "Sword Master, you need to rest in quiet. In this battle, you damaged your very source; you must not wield a sword for at least half a year."

Jiang Che looked at the Green Bamboo Sword beside his pillow.

"What about it?"

Xie Wuya fell silent for a moment: "The Green Bamboo Sword endured the Heavenly Punishment; its sword spirit is nearly dormant. Whether it can recover depends on fate."

Jiang Che's eyes darkened slightly.

The Green Bamboo Sword was the sword his mother had left him.

From Burying Sword Valley to Tian Duan Cliff, it had accompanied him through countless lives and deaths.

Now, it too had fallen asleep.

Jiang Che reached out and gently touched the blade.

"You've worked hard."

The Green Bamboo Sword gave no response.

That night, Jiang Che fell into unconsciousness once more.

This time, he slept for a full month.

And in the Human Realm, during that month, people began truly learning to live without an Emperor.