The cold wind froze in an instant, silent and still.

Empress An, who had held power for so many years, was hearing such a harsh rebuke for the first time. Her eyes widened, as though witnessing the most audacious act she'd ever encountered.

He was still the same—Chen Zunming, the defiant and untamable.

Even the three Pavilion Masters trembled lightly at this moment, their usual stoic expressions betraying traces of disbelief.

Chen Yi spread his hands and stood proudly, meeting their gazes with disdain as he declared:

"Go ahead, kill me."

The three Pavilion Masters slowly moved forward. When the Empress acted earlier, they refrained from striking to avoid unintended injuries.

Now, however, even they lacked the chance to intervene.

"Hand me a sword. I'll kill him myself."

As her words fell, the two Shuangshu Birds immediately tossed her a short sword without hesitation.

The Empress caught the sword in her hand, its edge gleaming with deadly sharpness.

And Chen Yi took in the entire scene with his watchful eyes.

Though he appeared gravely injured, his body struggling to hold, the truth was far from it. He had walked the line between life and death and managed to retain astonishing composure.

Empress An, however, was a different story.

Her rage had erupted like a storm.

Anger could make one fearless, but it could also strip away reasoning, luring one into traps step by step.

Yet, with her lack of practical combat experience, she remained unaware of this fatal truth.

Chen Yi's deliberate retreat wasn't just deceiving the Empress—it also misled the three Pavilion Masters of Xique Pavilion, whose vigilance was now at its lowest.

A hunt—a hunt where even the hounds standing outside the trap wouldn't have imagined that their master might be slain by the prey.

The Empress stepped slowly forward, and when she reached Chen Yi, her sword came crashing down.

Chen Yi met her blade with a strike of his own, his sword razor-keen and reflecting the pallor of his bloodstained face in its cold light.

The Empress twisted her wrist and changed her move in an instant, thrusting upward from below. The two swords collided with a sudden jarring force, reverberating with deafening roars.

The blood that had crusted in Chen Yi's hair dispersed with the wind and splattered onto her face.

The Empress's pupils contracted, and instinctively, she withdrew her strike.

Chen Yi seized the chance. His seemingly trembling and weakened body straightened sharply in one fluid motion as he took a step forward and launched another thunderous stroke.

Sword Intent surged furiously, Three Feet of Sword Gang emanating with immense force. The ferocious winds tore through the mountain paths,

as the Destruction Zen Sword pierced through layers of Buddha Light!

The Empress never anticipated that he had concealed such strength. As the Buddha Light shattered, she met him with a palm strike, her hand colliding with his blade, unleashing a thunderous explosion.

Her body turned into a golden shadow as she was blasted backward, her form tipping and retreating toward the sheer cliff behind her.

With all his might concentrated into a single strike, the opportunity was fleeting—a moment's breath. As the three Pavilion Masters froze in shock, unable to react, Chen Yi darted forward and launched another ferocious swing.

He all but abandoned any defensive posture for this one move.

The Empress barely managed to stabilize herself and realized, at this instant, that Chen Yi was completely vulnerable. Were she to trade wound for wound, she would seize the chance to plunge her sword into his heart.

So close.

A sword thrust forward, the wind around it howling with a mournful shriek.

Her phoenix-like eyes narrowed, as if she already envisioned his lifeless face filled with lingering defiance.

But then, amidst the clamor, a faint glint of light floated between them, falling downward. The Empress's gaze froze abruptly, her heart shattering. It was the jade pendant she had given him.

How unbearable—and yet he still wore it...

Why would he still wear it...

In that fleeting moment, she suddenly realized that killing him would mean losing something far greater.

The woman who had sworn to kill him suddenly saw the pendant engraved with the character "Yi" swaying before her, and in the next moment, her sword was abandoned to the side. She turned her palm, delivering a strike to his blade but propelling herself far, far away.

She fell toward the edge of the cliff, her voice rasping:

"Don't forget me..."

Her tears soared upward, falling against his face.

The distance between the two grew heavier, and at that very second, Chen Yi froze in place, watching as her silhouette faded slowly into the abyss. The ancient forests stood silent, the winds at Huishou Cliff howling like cries of mourning...

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