Chapter 3 The Solitude of the Lone Wanderer

"Opening the gate of wisdom, becoming a Buddha in an instant?"
The great monk, drenched in blood, fought below and happened to witness the scene clearly. He couldn't help but cry out, then amidst the shock of those around him, shook his head and wept bitterly.
"Impossible, impossible! How can a butcher who brings chaos to the world, whose hands are stained with blood, possibly reach the realm of becoming a Buddha in broad daylight?"

"This is against all reason, against the very principles of heaven! How could he touch upon the Great Dao of the Three Pure Ones?"
The Daoist leader also lost his composure, exclaiming in disbelief, stomping his feet and bowing his head in despair. "I've devoted myself to the Dao for decades, with a sincerity unmatched by anyone, yet I haven't even set foot on the threshold of the Great Dao. And this executioner, he dares win the favor of Heaven! Where is justice, where is the distinction between good and evil?"

"I am powerful—so powerful that nothing in heaven or earth is my equal. I am the heavens, I am the earth, I am reason, law, technique, and the Dao! All rules and boundaries must bow to me. What I declare wrong is wrong. My pursuit is the only, the just one."
The aura around Solitary Farewell grew ever more formidable. In his billowing blue robes, he soared to the end of the thousand steps, to the top of the mountain path.

A great wind rose, carrying his clear voice through the peaks.
"The will of heaven is my will; the Great Dao is my Dao. If I say the Saintess must be replaced, then she must be replaced. Those who honor me are my disciples; those who defy me are rebels... Saintess, I have arrived..."

Nine hundred and eighty-one steps.

All the martial artists whose will and faith had been crushed by Solitary Farewell could only stare as he descended lightly, his blue robes untouched by dust. Nineteen steps remained before he would arrive at the gates of the Sacred Palace. The deed he sought to accomplish was about to become reality. No one in the world could stop him.

"You killed my brethren, you bullied our Saintess—how can you live with yourself?"
Unable to endure the spiritual torment, one warrior suddenly shouted, leapt to his feet, drew his blade, and slashed it across his own throat.

Blood spurted violently, yet the body refused to collapse. The head that rolled onto the steps glared upward, eyes wide with hatred and unwillingness, just as in life, fixed upon the heights above.

"I curse you, demon—may you die a miserable death!"
Another demonic sect warrior howled with venom, his voice piercing as a wraith's wail. Tearing open his garments, he ripped the flesh from his chest, dipped his fingers in blood, and drew strange, twisting symbols upon his face. As more were completed, black mists began to rise, ignoring all barriers of heaven and earth, binding Solitary Farewell within.

An evil rite—
The Face of the Curse.

A cold shudder ran through Solitary Farewell. He felt a bizarre, sinister force from some distant realm seeping into his body and soul. He could even sense his lifeforce gradually ebbing away—muscles shrinking, sinews and bones growing brittle and frail.

What he could once endure—spirit, energy, will, and vast reserves of spiritual power—became difficult to suppress. Now, the sole flaw of his Soul Origin Technique began at last to bite back. His breathing grew heavy, vision blurred, and sounds became distorted.

He couldn't tell if it was illusion, but before his eyes, the Sacred Palace doors slowly opened. Out stepped a woman in black and white robes, ethereal as a celestial being. In her gaze there was anger, sorrow, and pity.

"Why have you killed so many of your fellow warriors? Is it truly my beauty you covet so much? The body is but a shell—why cling to it so greedily?"
The Saintess, upon her appearance, questioned him relentlessly.

"No, I have not."
Gone was his former vigor. Solitary Farewell bowed his head like a child caught in wrongdoing, repenting before a parent. He spoke meekly:
"Six years ago, I was but an ignorant child of the wilds. My parents died, leaving me to hunt for survival. I nearly died to a tiger's maw, but it was you who gave me hope anew. Then, I had the fortune to hear your heart, your wishes. I vowed, if ever I gained strength and status, I would fulfill your wish, break your chains, and grant you freedom for life..."

"It was... you..."
The Saintess pondered for a long while, then suddenly realized, searching her sealed memories for the figure of Solitary Farewell.
"You are the child who nearly died to the twin tigers!"

"Yes, it was me." Solitary Farewell nodded excitedly, blurting out with a tone seeking approval,
"You saved my life, so it belongs to you. Your wish is my aim. Six years I've struggled, challenged the world, and now none can stand against me. I can give you freedom, release you from this prison of a Sacred Palace—"

"No. I will not leave the Sacred Palace."
Touched as she was, the Saintess refused him.
"Go now, and never again use such harmful, evil arts..."

"Why? Why do you refuse to leave?"
Solitary Farewell grew ever more bewildered, muttering in disappointment. The Saintess's words shattered the faith he had nurtured for six years, his spiritual world collapsing.
"Is someone coercing you? Do not worry, I am now invincible—"

"No one is coercing me." The Saintess sighed, then her tone turned cold.
"The only trouble in my life right now is you. If you abandon your intentions and leave the Holy Mountain, I will be happy... Go, and never again use those evil arts, and do not kill recklessly... Every life is precious..."

Solitary Farewell felt his spirit sink into gloom, his mind growing confused. Blankly, he turned his body, now seeming drained of all essence, his back bent as he descended in dejection. The Saintess's direct refusal was a heavy blow. He no longer knew what purpose his life should hold.

He wandered, soulless, step by step, staggering like a living corpse. Passing several martial artists, they scrambled back in fear. One younger boy, seeing the demon's odd state, cautiously approached. When he saw no reaction, he rejoiced, seized a short blade, and stabbed it deep into Solitary Farewell's chest.

Bang!

By instinct, Solitary Farewell grabbed the boy by the neck, ready to kill. But the pain in his heart briefly restored his senses, and his gaze fell upon the youth, only twelve or thirteen, recalling his own past.
"I was about this age when I first met the Saintess..."

So thinking, the Saintess's earlier words echoed in his mind like heavenly music, resounding in his soul. With a sigh, he released his grip. Looking at the now closed doors of the Sacred Palace, he whispered,
"You don't want me to kill, so I will not."

No one expected that the boy who had survived would not flee in terror, but would, with hands clasped, smash the short blade further in, driving it through and through, the inch-long tip emerging from Solitary Farewell's back, dripping with crimson beads.

Solitary Farewell looked back in astonishment, lowered his head to see the blade, then the boy. In the youth's trembling body and averted gaze, he showed a strange smile.
"So be it—I have fulfilled you..."

Thud!

His body fell backward, eyes greeted by the myriad stars of the heavens, blinking in confusion. Solitary Farewell continued to smile, as if finally liberated. In his last fading moment, he seemed to hear the boy cheer with delight,
"I killed him! I killed the great demon!"

"Is it such joy, to kill me?"

With that curious thought, Solitary Farewell's consciousness faded, sinking into endless darkness, drifting between descent and ascension, uncertain whether he would end in hell, in heaven, or somewhere else...

And in the last flash of awareness, there was only one thought—

"In the end, I am still alone."

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