Chapter 67: Heaven and Earth Mourn as One

Bai Aoque, though his eye wounds had not yet healed, found his other senses oddly sharper—if unseen by the skies, he still sensed the tremors in heavens and earth.

The fall of mighty beings, mourned by heaven and earth alike; Qian Ye had heard this phrase before, in both the Ever-night and the Empire. Learned scholars attributed it to the Primordium Power going amok as a great adept merged with cosmic fundamental essence—if such a being died violently, even the entire Ever-night world would react accordingly.

Only an Overking ranked as a Celestial Monarch could reach thus height—an exceptional Celestial Monarch at that; not just any Celestial Monarch ordinary, but one verging on the Saint’s level—like Lillith whose sigh at waking traversed every faction and region.

Song Zining, as if awakening from slumber at that moment, shuddered with chills and dropped his divination rods. Observing them with a trembling heart, his lips formed a bittersweet smile. ‘The Way of Fate is indeed unfathomable… truly perilous beyond words. Who could predict, even in transcending, this old master still remains an enigma beyond reach.’

“Old master? Which one?” Qian Ye suddenly felt a shadow looming in heart.

Hesitating momentarily, Song Zining slowly exhaled: “I am still debating whether you should know this. But once truth reveals, you’ll learn in time. This omen likely aligns with the fall of a formidable entity—should my deductions not stray too far, it’s likely none other than Lin Xiao.”

“Xiao Lin?!” Doubt clearly evident on Qian Ye’s face.

Lin Xitian had yet to ascend as Overmonarch, and such an event of ascension would long become common knowledge if recent. To threaten the Evernight, undoubtedly, the Empire would boast their newly gained Imperial Overmonarch publicly rather than obscure it secretly. The heavens have announced so ominously with meteoric showers sweeping skies, how possibly then… could it be Lin Xitian?

Composing with effort, Song Zining confessed hesitations. “Indeed disbelief lingers for I too am baffled yet undeniable visions showed dark worlds devoid of light, galaxies and General Lin… until all transformed into ephemeral radiance leaving me stricken with unpronounceable sorrow deep in thorax.”

“Since you described it as completely devoid… how come starlit constellations remained visible?”

Qian Ye interjected and dismissed fate-signs like oracular babble unheard.

Resigned, Song fell silent; Bai Aoque standing alongside listening intently remained mute, too.

Out beyond the Qinland skies in the Emperial Dominion space hovered a Black Suns resplendent.

Within the expanse of this emptiness raged perpetual battle between two figures, gunshots ringing occasionally between blows. Even vampire Grand Fleets laying ambush nearby—Duke Command Ships included—maintained an extreme standoff distance.

Holding the “Benediction of Umbral Depths”, Everburning Flame confronted Zhang Boqian in combat—a semblance advantage apparent but grim expressions betrayed none. Instead, he grew tenser with each move.

Suddenly, without a prelude, darkness of black sun dispersed!

Caught off-guard, Everburning Flame nearly allowed Zhang Boqian to close within a hundred meters. Hastily distancing himself with a flash retreat kept survival chances safe. Finding his opening nullified momentarily by this abrupt atmospheric shift, Zhang Bo quietly suspended, ceasing further confrontation, hands behind.

From where the eclipse dissipated emerged ethereal vision—a lingering echo. “It is done. Clasus, let us return.” Moments later illusion vanished—eternity swallowed void anew as if untouched.

Celestial order transformed profoundly once again!

Post the black eclipse, cosmic firmament exuded grand solemnity—expansiveness profound beneath descending radiant specks drifting amidst celestial canopy, quickly increasing until like a meteor shower descending upon realms, challenging perception like breaking loose from Asteroid belts floating atop reality.

In that very moment within present realm, beings attaining divine realms sensed fluctuations riddling very foundations of creation, and thick dawn-like essence wafted through the cosmic meteor showers. An unmistakable mark… yet from who?

From what primordial god had thus fallen?

Yet what struck odd was the dawn essence—unfamiliar, entirely strange. It belonged to none in any archive detailing the race-bound celestial Emperiors’ knowns.

Everburning instantly wheeled about in retreat; ominous fleets in dark alignment turned orderly, vanishing.

As the final remnant of those Ever-night fleets vanished from expanse, only the lone presence of Zhang Boqian remained—motionless in reveries, lifting gaze upon skies once teeming with cosmic tempests.

No stars lit now.

Emperor Haoding had come unseen behind him—it could not be discerned exactly when. Or perhaps He had remained silently there since the end.

Dark firmament lay restored—serene abyss once more echoing the unchanging eon’s silence.

“He has moved on,” The Sovereign proclaimed.

And Zhang replied only, with tranquil composure undisturbed.

“One should look upon his remains.”

Unmoved and composed their tones remained; forward walked the one; the one beheld the ashen-grey contours of Qinlan’s expanse below.

The Emperor of Malice now stood—heralding possibilities once only the direst of fears… to perish at hands wielding dominion over the original Darkness meant obliteration beyond death—a final erasure wherein not even the essence of soul nor fragment of ash remained… consumed by void without residue… without witness.

With measured gait, He strode earthwards as lands unfolded beneath his gaze inch by inch. Peace undisturbed—majestic peaks and undulating rivers; metropolis and town dotted the landscape in endless network—an empire teeming life’s wealth! Yet a man so near death perhaps, would now know burial beyond his own people’s shores; love for this expanse alone would scatter upon winds in mourning, fading eternally in time.

As for Haoding? He probably never beheld further space’s far expanse. Perhaps even his final warfronts stood near the Empire’s distant periphery.

In a particular year, memory echoed—the icy tone of the Crown Prince’s new Lecturer lingered in auditory sense: What constituted true sovereignry? To remain ever guardian in life… guardian until the very breath’s departure.

A year’s guidance, lifelong principles shaped thence.

Celestial omens on floating lands gradually calmed as meteoric showers ceased.

Then soon enough, the vanguard elements of Eastern Army’s vast ranks descended into arrival—the imperial flagship of Royal Fleet came into view from afar’s distance displaying the sovereign crest resplendent, unmistakably proud.

But warriors in White City, beholding warships finally arriving—expressed neither cheers nor warmth amidst their hollowness—the so-called “victory” tasted bitter indeed.

Indeed all knew—the combined forces assembled tardily: the fault laid either within supply fleets’ delays or deeper within strategic design—such mercenaries serving no particular faction save gold, were surprised even at cost this first plunge into conflict’s fury had been soaked red with bloodshed.

Passing once around atop of city in majestic orbit, Imperial vessels began gentle descent onto terrain beyond city perimeters while senior commander emerged with attendants trailing behind marching into gate’s embrace—visibly aching inward from the ruinous aftermath he beheld with unflinching eyes though lips parted with solemn greeting at site of thousand nights and esteemed Song.

“General Qian Ye, General Song Zining—we apologizes sincerely for arrival delayed!”

Though the commander himself carried rank as Lieutenant General, he extended subordinately deferential bow befitting an aide towards commanding superior—an expression of regard not diminished despite palpable shadowed essence emanating visibly from Qian Ye.

Qian Ye found himself at loss of meaningful response, as he noticed each uniformed officer bore their own visible wounds… signs, indeed, of grievous damage inflicted to the spacecraft during deep-space conflict where survival probability dipped dangerously low—therefore those who endured, and bled instead of perished… became rarified and invaluable.

Finally, Song Zining stepped to lead conversation, trading greetings while quietly acquiring newest situation report.

Eventually they received news of General Lin nearing descent into these lands.

As Song glimpsed at Qian Ye, the latter’s expressions masked his thoughts, seated solemnly—only his fingers betrayed subconscious rhythm drumming across carved armrests’ surface rhythmless and unceasing.

Soon enough, terrestrial divisions touched down in sequence—a flood tide of Eastern Army troops surged into White City; deployment to secure areas proceeded immediately alongside battlefield cleanup—just then, Darkfire Fleet reestablished contact and rejoined land mass’s orbit, leaving only Valkyries floating sentinel watch upon celestial domain untouched by footfall.

Returning warships bore deep damage—two vessels having never returned.

It was clear from all accounts—that space combat endured extreme hostility! According to the Captain’s account, Ever-night had diverted Valkyries into combat by sending a fully constituted ducal war-group with Ducal Command Ship as relentless harassers, allowing logistics transport to launch successive breakouts in floating land approaches.

For the Dark Fire Fleet led by Valkyries, speed was their one weakness—an aspect Carrel found herself unable to change amidst frustration, forced to remain an apex predator helpless watching furtive herds of prey swarm past in swarms of thousands… knocking down only scattered adversaries helplessly while most slipped into vital zones.

Yet decisiveness came upon decision, Carrel ignored further transport threats redirecting efforts toward the primary objective; she poured everything into the annihilation of enemy battle fleet—only upon securing the field from such would remaining destroyers become true blockade instruments.

The Valkyrie succeeded, utilizing an unparalleled defensive edge to ultimately annihilate the Ducal Command, but even in death’s approach, the spider demon Duke stubbornly refused retreat—boldly boarding Valkyries deck in fierce single engagement against Carrel. For full day cycles the duel waged unbroken… until finally, even with the advantage granted upon ship-enhancements, the Spider Duke lost ultimately within the sacred halls of Valkyries. Slain, his essence extinguished within the hallowed iron sanctum.

Yet the internal damage of this duel was no small measure—one half of crew perished alongside warriors, machines and systems ruined irreversibly within vessel corridors—Valkyries’ combat ability halved at least. The spider-demon, it had been plain as blood—determination burned in soul with intent for mutual annihilation. Ultimately successful despite heavy wounding at opponent counter-strike upon finishing his kill, Captain now convalesced inside recovery bay awaiting restoration.

Understanding now both Qian Ye and Song Zining realized the gravity of the Ever-night ploy—to take possession of this White City so thoroughly sacrificed an esteemed duke-level fleet!

However, the unanswered mystery festered deeper. If so great a wager had been invested, why then, when poised already for decisive coup—retreat at the very threshold?

Certainly should surpass mere “weapon bearers” in significance! There remained necessity to station high-ranking members at the least—a minimum being Elders, perhaps? If truly the case however… where had they now disappeared?

View now of things told thus—the swordbearer elite and ducal fleet appeared less like attackers, and more akin of bait thrown purposefully.

Even if such their purpose—nonetheless… costly had been the price the Empire had paid in attempting to consume it.

Yet within heart’s core, Qian Ye felt unease gnawing still. In midst contemplating thus, sound approached: vanguard troops from Central Army had also arrived. A Grand Duke clad armor could not delay descending from flagship; soaring downward he crossed atmosphere to plunge inside White City’s very gates immediately!

His arrival commanded honor: both Qian Ye and Song Zining emerged in formal salutation. As eyes ransacked his sight across them, Grand Duke exhalated mournfully: “How long ago? Once we met in Spring Rite, you two remained still children amidst tournament’s bloom. Just several years later now you’ve surpassed many… indeed, youth shall ever astound!

Alas—truly… a pity!”

Unexpectantly Qian Ye sensed his blood stirring within unseen currents. Seemingly quiescent wings buried deep in his ribcage—a fading primal echo stirred. He felt a danger akin a predator locked within predator’s gaze: alert, wary—he knew not why! Eyes upturned searching danger within that place, only then did something seize and dominate focus—the weapon sheathed behind Grand Duke.

Both Song Zining and Grand Duke perceived Qian Ye reaction instantly.

Following Qian Ye’s gaze, recognition of the blade struck Song pale as though light itself had dimmed for an exhaling moment he shouted involuntarily, “Emperor Sword! Why is it found here!?”

Grand Duke nodded silently before revealing explanation:

“Crown Prince’s vanguard entrusted command by the younger Zhao Jundu who advanced at an unusually aggressive rate. I coordinated main armies for backup support… unexpected swiftness from young general; yet fate had worse already prepared. As if summoned from cosmic rift, a force of Shadows fell like meteors blocking their advancement. In need of breakthrough and support Prince Fourteenth brought “Emperor’s Blade.” But regrettably Evernight forces were ready; they used obscure magical artifice and drained out young prince utterly… aware the stakes of Emperor Sword, I took it upon self personally, for so long my soul yet pulses… this fabled lance shall remain beyond loss.”

Upon closer examination Song Zining and Qian Ye confirmed it—the Grand Duke bore grievous wounds similar even unto Haomii’s: concealed yet seething, sealed beneath esoteric concealments. And from his recounting it was clear—the darkness had laid for the Central column not merely obstacle, but treachery: a deadly ambush designed beforehand, not mere coincidence. Communication remained impossible with the severely wounded High Princess; but if Eastern Theater faced similarly insidious interference—it was plausible their strategies ran parallel in extremity of risk.

Only Bai Aoque had come through in west: ships and terrestrial columns of the left and supporting ranks missing entirely.

Reflecting upon left-theater’s plight against right’s, it no longer surprised to consider—their overall commander bore certain unique legacy; their generals, too, drawn largely from regions where blood-bound ambition bred fearlessness. The sacrifices the High Princess of Haomii and the Grand Duke here, must’ve been immeasures.

At that instant—the battlefield situation surrounding White City became clearer than midday sun:

Were Zhao Jundu’s sudden breakout… combined with swordbearer annihilation and mysterious disappearance of Evernight’s high Elder-level experts… without those events… all would have perished. Commanding the left, right and central positions, all the Empire’s most potent elites risk annihilation.

Even present situation, Zhao Jundu and Bai Aoque bore grave injuries—the Fourteenth Prince and Nineteenth Princess were confirmed fallen. Both High Princess and the Grand Duke’s conditions hung between life and near-death; and within the retarding ranks… more than a single noble-born or royal guard officer had already departed for celestial afterlife… a heavy toll, indeed beyond light consideration.

Qian Ye’s countenance shadowed.

He pondered:

“How—did so great a war become… reduced… into this?“