Vol 8. Chapter 12: I Will Guard the Blazing Sun’s Future

At those words, Leon and Rosvisser were both taken aback.

Because by all reason, for someone who had stood at the peak and risen to such a position, Orion’s teacher should have had a heart far stronger than most.

And besides—whatever wounds life brings, isn’t time supposed to ease them?

“Suicide? Miss Orion, why would your teacher take her own life?”

The three kept walking, soon leaving the cemetery behind.

Orion did not hide anything. She explained:

“In those days, my teacher defended the Blazing Sun clan’s borders, repelled foreign enemies, earned countless merits. Her future was wide open. But then, one day, out of nowhere, someone accused her of trying to secretly steal one of our sacred relics—the Golden Helm. And the accuser even brought out so-called evidence to prove what she had done. Though all of it was circumstantial, unable to directly prove anything, my teacher was still punished by the clan. She was stripped of her post, placed under review, and imprisoned for nearly half a year. When the investigation finally ended, she was released for lack of evidence. But just when she thought the ordeal was over, what awaited her was the endless abuse and humiliation of the entire City of Blazing Sun.”

Here Orion paused. She shut her eyes, drew several deep breaths, then opened them again, steadying her voice as she went on:

“I don’t know what exactly happened outside during those six months she was locked away. But a group of people kept slandering her, smearing her in every way. They said she was a selfish traitor, that she wanted to seize the Golden Helm’s power for herself. They even said she colluded with outsiders, intending to hand over the Golden Helm. Some did not believe it. But others were utterly convinced. Most of the time, people don’t care about the truth. They only delight in the frenzy of contrast—reveling in how the City of Blazing Sun’s strongest female warrior had become a rat everyone hurled stones at overnight. When my teacher returned, she found everything changed. Her life was ruined. Every day, people came to throw garbage at her door. Even when she went out, she was hounded, surrounded, assailed with questions that shredded her dignity. Those days went on for more than a year. In the end, she broke. On a rainy night, she drove the dagger she always carried into her own heart and ended her life.”

Orion drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Recalling what her mentor had suffered—wasn’t that torment for her too?

She had no need to answer Leon and Rosvisser so thoroughly. But loneliness, when it endures too long, makes the heart spill over once it meets those who can see through it.

And remembering all this brought Orion back to her own days of being judged a traitor. She knew how bitter it was—yet she had still faced her enemies head-on.

She had thought that guarding what lay behind her would be enough. But there had always been people scheming to stab her in the back. And the cruelest thing was that whether it was Leon, or her teacher, at that time the conspirators had succeeded.

The only difference was that Leon had once had the chance to clear his name. But her teacher would never have that chance.

“We are deeply sorry for this, Miss Orion...” Rosvisser said softly.

Orion shook her head.

“It’s all right. It was long ago.”

She slipped both hands into her jacket pockets, lowered her gaze to a puddle at her feet, her reflection wavering in the water.

“After my teacher’s death, the arguments about her never ceased. I kept investigating in secret—who it was that first framed her, what their aim was. In the process, both City Lord Fuyuan and the old city lord helped me greatly. At last, I did find the one who had slandered her. He admitted his guilt, agreed to publicly confess, to clear her name.”

Leon’s thoughts stirred. He quickened his step, caught up to Orion, and asked,

“But things didn’t end so smoothly, did they? Because I can see your confusion, your desolation. If her name had truly been cleared, she wouldn’t still be treated this way.”

At his words, Orion suddenly stopped. She bit her lip lightly, then slowly lifted her eyes to him.

Her blue pupils were filled with unwillingness and guilt.

“You’re right, Mr. Leon.”

Orion spoke slowly,

“After I arrested the man who had spread the slander, I locked him in the city prison, planning the next day to convene with the lords to set the record straight for my teacher. But when I arrived at the prison the next day, he was already hanging in his cell. Dead—there was no one left to speak her innocence. So my teacher has never been free of slander or dispute... even now, it persists.”

This was without question one of the greatest turning points of Orion’s life.

Her mentor /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ had been framed, maligned, broken, and finally had ended her own life.

The one who framed her, after being captured, hanged himself.

The horror wasn’t in there being no chance to clear her name. The horror was that the chance had been right there before her, she had seized it—and then lost it.

And though none of it was her fault, she still bore the guilt, forced to keep living.

That pain was far sharper than never having had hope to begin with.

It was like countless needles forever piercing Orion’s heart, reminding her again and again:

It was your negligence that lost the only chance to proclaim the truth.

And so Orion became cold and distant, living like a machine that only carried out missions—so that she would no longer feel pain.

At least, not in the eyes of others.

“My teacher had no children. Before her death, she donated all her belongings to the Blazing Sun’s welfare institute.”

Orion said:

“In her will, she wrote that she loved the Blazing Sun, loved its people. That being slandered, blinded, was not their fault. She still wished for the Blazing Sun to have a bright future, and entrusted me to believe in my own race. And to remember our ancestor Apollo. He was the most worshiped, the most loving of the gods. He left behind the holy relic, the Golden Helm—there must have been a reason.”

Orion let out a long sigh, then lifted her face to the sky.

The clouds had scattered completely. The sun shone high.

The golden-haired girl narrowed her eyes at that blazing light and went on,

“But even now, I cannot understand my teacher’s thoughts, her convictions. Still, I am willing to carry out her will...”

Orion slowly turned, facing Leon and Rosvisser.

Her voice was steady, her gaze unwavering. The warm sunlight spilled over her body, wrapping her in a halo of gold.

“I will guard the future of the Blazing Sun in my teacher’s place. Even if I must bear revilement—even if I must lose everything.”