Chapter 13: Legacy

This might be the last time this foolish man ever saw his own reflection.

I am Li Ensu, and I am Su’er Da’ong.

Fragmented whispers echoed in the confined space, memories shattered and reassembled.

The aged Oath Knight, Su’er Da’ong, gazed at his reflection in the mirror—bewildered and bitter.

Why, at this very moment, did he suddenly recall his past life? Why, now, did he remember his human past?

【Because your time has come.】

Deep within, Su’er felt malice—was fate itself cursing him?

“So, my time has come.”

Indeed, it no longer mattered. There was no difference anymore.

At this point, the path had reached its end. No other choices remained.

So what difference does it make—whether I am the transmigrator Li Ensu or the rebellious knight Su’er?

He looked at his reflection and smiled bitterly.

Now he understood why he’d always had strange thoughts, why he’d always been filled with discontent and rage, why he’d always felt the world shouldn’t be this way.

“Damn it, you’re late.” If he’d awakened his past memories and knowledge sooner, perhaps there might still have been a choice.

【Was there ever a choice?】

No, it’s useless. Before the darkness of the entire world, what choice does a single individual have?

No, it’s meaningful—it has strengthened my path. The path of the traitor, it seems truly meaningless, because…

“I do not regret walking this dead-end road.”

No matter how many times I’m reborn, no matter whether I possess knowledge from another world, I would still walk this path.

He donned his armor, gripped the sword of judgment, and for once, the slick old knight’s face turned solemn.

This time, too, it was an expedition. Again, a crusade.

A century of warfare might finally be reaching its end.

“My lord.” The young squire handed him gloves and cloak, his youthful face filled with unease.

“Take us with you.” Along the way, former Holy Knights begged Su’er to change his mind.

Even if we’ve lost our Holy Power and can only serve as cannon fodder, let us follow you.

“Do we… do we still have a future?” The ordinary people within the walls, desperate victims and supplicants, watched the man before them.

Moments ago, the unease in the mirror had vanished. Before the knights and the people stood a legend.

He was foolish justice, protector of the weak, destroyer of evil.

The Grand Knight walked slowly up the tower of the wall, his gaze sweeping over all directions.

Behind him, the people he protected. Before him, an endless army.

“I swear to fight for the weak.”

This man, who had never been defeated, never hesitated, never retreated, raised his right hand once more.

“I have done it. One hundred and twenty-seven years, countless battlefields—I have done it.”

His gaze turned northward, where his former kingdom lay.

“My faith taught me to fight for law, to fight for the preservation of order.”

“And I have done it.”

The blade in his hand shimmered with blazing light—faith’s radiance, oath’s power, protection’s strength—but not the light of faith!

“But now, my faith demands I slaughter the weak… Ah, damn it!”

Before countless eyes, the old knight spat directly onto the Holy Symbol of the Scales, onto the deity he had sworn to serve.

The armies surrounding the city, the banners standing before the old knight—all bore the familiar Scales.

“Friends, brothers, we once believed in her… but now…”

Calm words were the most blasphemous of all.

“Our faith conflicts with basic morality and justice. What purpose does such a damned faith serve?”

The great villain uttered words of defiance against the gods.

Before all eyes, the Holy Codex bound at his waist was torn apart.

Pages of the torn Codex—once revered as embodiments of justice—became shredded paper scattered across the wall.

He desecrated his own faith. He desecrated his own deity.

“Boom!” A sudden thunderclap—the god’s fury—what meaning did it hold?

The war drums had sounded. The war song had been sung.

This was a familiar battlefield scent—but this time, the target was…

“Our enemy is the god! The evil deity who created this tragedy—the Law God, Lord of the Scales, and the decaying theocratic state that birthed countless tragedies!”

In his left hand, his longsword. In his right, his battle standard. Both pointed unhesitatingly toward the northern sky.

“We are the ones who are just. Justice does not reside in decaying codices—it has always been within us!”

“March!”

The gates swung open. The last iron cavalry, led by the Oath Knights, charged forward—a desperate assault against infinite forces on behalf of the weak.

Any chance of victory? Impossible. Most of their Holy Knights had lost divine favor and power; only a few Oath Knights still retained Holy Power.

Opposite them stood at least ten times their number—an entire nation with endless logistics, even a true god.

It was destined to be a war with no hope of victory.

Blood flowed endlessly. The rebels, mostly stripped of Holy Power, relied only on their oaths to sustain strength—facing foes a thousandfold their number.

It was a rebellion destined to fail.

“I do not regret it. I only regret not awakening sooner.”

The strongest Oath Knight of this age finally fell upon the dunes.

He laughed bitterly—but never for himself.

Around him lay countless corpses; behind him, no one remained. Fully armed Grand Inquisitor Knights surrounded him, blocking every escape.

He knew there was no escape. At least half of them were men he knew—or even trained himself—powerful warriors, the strongest of the entire Order.

For him, the trembling Order abandoned every other front.

Yet they looked at him now—with complex expressions—at their comrade, their mentor, their elder, their Master—the man who had never bowed.

The old knight, armless and legless, propped himself up on the ground. The broken sword buried in the earth still glowed with purest light.

It was the purest Holy Light.

It was his oath with the weak.

He had proven he had not betrayed his inner justice.

Even though he betrayed his god and faith. Even though he bore countless arrows. Even though he was now the undisputed greatest villain.

“Great Villain.”

“Why betray? The goddess has favored you enough.”

“She gave you power. She gave you peace.”

“Law brings order. Order brings justice.”

Facing his former comrades as they drew near, the old knight smiled.

“Does law equal justice? Who said that? Which bitch-goddess?!”

Even if only his mouth could move, the old knight remained the most dangerous villain.

“Who decreed that peasants must surrender ninety percent of their harvest—even in years of famine?”

“Who decreed that even the seven most heinous crimes cannot be judged among the clergy’s nobles?”

“Who repeatedly crushed popular resistance, forcing them to surrender their meager wealth under the guise of healing disasters and atonement?”

“Who ensured that the children of peasants remain peasants, and the children of nobles remain nobles… Who?! Dare you tell me?!”

His desperate roar froze the advancing Inquisitor Knights.

“Ask your hearts—is this justice? What kind of justice is this?!”

In truth, every Inquisitor Knight knew—every one of these things was written in the Codex.

“Law is the tool of rulers. When rulers are evil, law becomes the most evil of evils.”

Then, the old man laughed.

“I see—you’ve studied law until you lost your humanity? Idiots, look at me.”

The old man tapped his chest.

“Justice has never resided in codices. It has always been within us. In the days ahead—ask your hearts.”

“Enough!”

A sudden roar, followed by blazing fire—igniting everything.

This golden flame had exceeded mortal strength from the start. The old man laughed joyfully within the divine fire.

He raised his broken sword once more.

He looked upward—at the divine avatar finally forced to descend.

She was beautiful, holy, untouched by mortal dust, eyes closed as if unwilling to witness the world’s suffering.

But if you don’t see it, does it cease to exist?

“Ha. That evil… is worth fighting.”

The long-accumulated strike finally found its target.

The old knight suddenly leapt upward, his lone arm radiating the brightest, purest light.

When all the light converged into a single point, that familiar roar echoed once more!

“Evil-Cutting Slash!”

This was a roar repeated countless times—a strike against evil, just as it had been before, a strike forged from life and will.

The blade became light, tearing through the air, tearing through the sky.

“Boom!”

Amid the divine flames, the old knight laughed wildly as he turned to ash.

Yet he still smiled.

As he had said—he never regretted it.

But when the smoke cleared, every knight present stared in shock at what lay before them: the once-perfect divine avatar now cracked with fissures.

On its holy face, blood seeped from the wounds—a web of cracks that turned its beautiful features into a shattered mask, a grotesque doll.

“So… it’s red too.” The old knight’s whisper still echoed through the world.

The god, whom the old knight had deemed evil, could bleed.

Then… could she be destroyed?

Mortals may die, but their will, their thoughts, do not end with death.

Yet that is something even the departed heroic souls cannot bear.

His story, his life—ended here.

The dream began to shatter; a low voice recounted his own end.

“This… is the tale of a fool, the end of a stubborn idiot. Hah—he was useless. He couldn’t even destroy a single divine avatar. In the end, he still failed to fulfill his vow to protect the weak.”

The man himself appeared before Li En—another Li Ensu—smiling as he spoke of his own demise and helplessness to the other Li Ensu.

“Stubborn justice? At least, that label fits.”

The playback of memories did not end.

The knights and their legions had departed; the divine avatar, after its hysterical outburst, returned to the heavens.

On that wasteland, where the knight’s ashes mingled with divine blood, an ancient book floated.

It seemed to be recording something.

Li En knew this book too well—it hung at his waist!

He had thought everything would end here, but the book suddenly changed again.

On its open cover, countless spectral figures emerged; the entire book swelled violently.

Deformed flesh? Beastly shapes writhing in futile escape? Faint echoes of historical heroic souls? In that moment, it seemed to be savoring a feast.

Finally, when all returned to stillness, it appeared as though nothing had changed.

The book vanished once more.

“Now, do you understand why I despise Li Ensu?”

Li En shook his head—the information was too much; he was still dazed.

But what he saw was the knight’s figure growing increasingly insubstantial.

His time was nearly at an end.

Li En’s instinct told him this heroic soul was not the original—it was merely a recorded fragment, a lost memory.

The real Li Ensu? Perhaps he had already moved to the next timeline—or the next life—or even within the mirror.

“Will we meet again?” Li En asked, half-dazed, though his heart already knew the answer.

“Perhaps… but not in the way you understand.” The evasive reply carried the weight of farewell.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You’ll find out.” That same cruel smile remained, but after a moment’s thought, he shook his head.

“If I’m to instruct you, and teach you nothing… that wouldn’t befit a senior.” The middle-aged holy knight’s form betrayed deep exhaustion; the awakened memory of the heroic soul was nearing its end.

“Do you feel boundless darkness? Do you feel your feet chained? Do you feel pressure from all sides?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Words, words—social pressure, surrounding darkness—you truly feel none of it?”

Li En thought of the dwarf’s musket pressed against his forehead, of Will’s unblinking dead eyes, of this painful world—he fell silent.

“All I can teach you is to remember this darkness, this oppression—to endure, and suppress your rage until the moment arrives.”

The extreme holy knight had spoken words far from extreme.

“When there is no retreat left… no escape.”

“Draw your sword.”

The blade that had torn the sky, the strike that had wounded the god—still before him.

“Can I do it?”

“You can… after all…”

The shadowy middle-aged man waved his hand, like a traveler about to depart.

“I am Li Ensu. And so are you.”

【Training Mode Stage One Complete. Please initiate Stage Two: Legacy of the Heroic Soul.】

【Soul Ability: Thousand-Faced Dragon Activated.】

【Listen—the endless reincarnating Dragon-Snake whispers through the ages.】

【Lies are its new scales, one after another, covering the infinite body of the Infinite Dragon.】

【It may be the most vile immortal… or the most devout saint.】

【Mortal history is but sand slipping through its claws.】

【Heroic epics are the tragicomedies that lull it to sleep.】

【Do not awaken it—unless you wish to see the world burn.】

【Or unless you crave rebirth from the ashes and ruins.】

(End of Chapter)