Chapter 135: EX Disciple and Teacher_2

"I’m going to die."

The old knight’s tone carried an indiscernible mix of regret and relief, a contradiction both utterly complex and profound. Meanwhile, the petrified ash-grey traces had spread beyond his abdomen, creeping towards his chest.

He said softly, "This is the Ice Prison Calamity Ash, a lethal toxin that reduces all targeted to ashes—I suppose my life is too stubborn; even it can only slowly turn me to stone, allowing me to linger on a while longer.

"My death is inevitable. Since that’s the case, let me use my last remaining Sublimation Organ to save you."

Hiliard turned his head to look at Ian, laughing, "Don’t worry, my student, it’s as if you had Fifth Power Level ancient dragon material from the start! It took me and my king leading an army to collapse dozens of mountains to secure one, and here you are getting one for free. You really are lucky, haha..."

Noticing that Ian didn’t care about this, and was just staring blankly at himself, he continued patiently, "Don’t worry, Ian. I was close to death anyway. Without Weyges, I probably wouldn’t make it past this winter... at the very latest, by next winter."

The ash-grey traces had begun to spread across his entire chest, forming web-like patterns.

At that moment, Hiliard raised his hand and grasped Ian’s hand, the boy feeling his teacher’s strength surprisingly strong: "After I die, send my body into the Southern Sea... I want to watch from there... watch forever."

Ian met Hiliard’s gaze; the old knight said solemnly, "Promise me."

"Child, don’t be sad."

"I promise you..."

Ian replied blankly, "But I still don’t want you to die... how could I possibly not be sad?"

"Teacher, I want to cry, I know this is the time to cry, but I cannot cry, I have no tears..."

The boy clenched his teacher’s hand tightly; he had no tears, only the flickering of Spirit Energy Radiance in his eyes.

He wanted to discern the trajectory of the future, but upon Hiliard, there was only a mournful shade of black ash.

All light was dimming; the Knight in the Foresight View had already perished.

He was merely continuing to exist in his dead body with a will transcending the material world.

This was a wandering more despairing than despair itself. Ian could only endure, endure this unspeakable sorrow: "Teacher, all I can feel is silent hollowness, a profound heaviness."

"I... I can’t describe that emptiness..."

"Yes. That’s just the kind of person you are."

But Hiliard lifted his hand, gently caressing the boy’s head with a reassuring touch: "You are a strange child, an exceptional child, different from other children, a child who is both lost and curious."

"I... I’ve thought of someone, a person like you, one who can never truly rejoice unrestrained, nor deeply worry or grieve."

He smiled weakly, his gaze shifting upwards, staring into the dark sky.

Hiliard, his mind starting to scatter, seemed to be communicating with Ian, and perhaps with a dear friend from the distant past: "What can fill the emptiness in your hearts? Is not even this universe enough?"

"So... That’s why you aspire to reach Above the Sky?"

Hiliard paused for a moment, as if gathering his energy.

Then, as clearly as ever, the elderly man said, "I am Hiliard Lesi, the thirty-ninth Emperor of the Setar Empire, the Knight of Pioneer Emperor Inaga."

"I am also currently the Setar Empire’s highest-level fugitive and traitor—I am the ’Black Tyrant’s’ last poison."

"I’m sorry, Ian, I will entrust you with His Majesty’s legacy... It will bring you a plethora of enemies, and they are the dominators of this world, numerous and powerful. They occupy all of this land, possess all the resources, with everyone standing on their side."

"They are the monarchs of the land, the envoys of the gods in the Human Realm, the generals commanding vast armies, the rulers of this world."

Bowing his head, the knight’s grey-brown eyes gazed at Ian, scrutinizing his disciple’s saddened expression, then lifted his hand, caressing the boy’s face: "What, not scared?"

The grey traces had spread to every part of the chest and abdomen and were even beginning to reach the neck and head.

"How could I be?"

Drawing a deep breath, Ian replied softly.

Realizing that the moment was near, his voice became firm, as solid as the unchanging rock: "This is exactly what I’m here to do; they are the enemies I’m destined to vanquish."

Looking into Ian’s eyes, Hiliard studied that gaze.

Bright eyes. Familiar eyes. Resolute eyes.

Just like the eyes of the king from years past.

His own eyes were dimming.

——Actually, I’ve never understood, I truly have never understood.

The memory-burdened old man was becoming increasingly unclear in his mind, with his complicated life whirling before his eyes, turning into countless fluttering fragments.

He murmured to himself, a question from the depths of his heart: "Why... do you all wish to ascend to Above the Sky?"

Therefore. To respond to a dear friend, to respond to a teacher.

Those from memories, those from the present, thus spoke up, answering seriously.