The Kan Yun Lens erupted with starlit brilliance, piercing through the Phantom of Ketu's blockade like a meteor, carrying a plea to a supreme existence. No matter the distance, once He saw, the arrow would fall.
A galactic-scale longbow materialized against the cosmos. Its translucent string spanned the void between stars—
A dazzling cross shimmered at its apex. A rainbow-hued arrow, transcending time and space, soared across the sea of stars.
Where the arrow flies, it strikes.
So long as Abundance's blight endures, the Hunt's bow shall never rest.
The meteor-like arrow blazed brighter than dawn's first light, answering the desperate azure signal. Moments after the light pierced the clouds, Fanghu drowned in blinding radiance—the Divine Archer's judgment had descended.
Jingtian did not flee. He simply watched the arrow—brighter than any star or planet—plummet.
Were all choices predestined?
Can fate's path truly be severed?
So many questions remained unanswered. But perhaps... some mysteries were never meant to be solved.
What does one think before death?
Jingtian thought nothing. He smiled his usual gentle smile as the light consumed Fanghu, still clutching his ritual fan.
First shattered was the Kan Yun Lens. Next, the Phantom of Ketu looming above. Under divine judgment, all things were equal.
The radiance swallowed Jingtian's form.
"Master—!"
An Ming's agonized roar echoed. Once again, he tasted the bitterness of loss.
But grief had no place here. Gripping Wuye, he unleashed a sword aura, weaving a barrier of blades before him.
Behind him lay the field hospital—doctors, wounded, all trapped within the Archer's wrath.
No retreat.
Retreat meant annihilation.
An Ming watched warships—Luofu and Abundance alike—disintegrate into stardust under residual divine power. Before a Aeon's might, mortals were less than nothing.
Mere dust.
Wuye's aura screeched as the arrow struck. The earth itself seemed to vanish.
Yu Fei collapsed, trembling. No time for despair—her body dissolved from flesh to bone, then to ash.
"No—!"
An Ming's roar choked as the light scoured his arm away. Death loomed.
Mortals before Aeons—nothing.
"Xuan'er…"
The light consumed him. He heard his flesh unravel. Wuye shattered.
Can't die… Promised her…
Within his disintegrating form, golden light flared—rebuilding flesh, resisting divine wrath.
Somewhere beyond, the Divine Archer gazed upon this anomaly: a youth marked by Abundance, bearing a broken Cloud Knight's token.
When An Ming awoke, a stunned Vidyaraja shook him. The Archer's arrow had erased half of Fanghu. He alone remained.
Barren wastes stretched endlessly. One strike had ended the war.
The Aeon's "mercy" had purged Abundance's taint. Yet all An Ming saw were millions reduced to ten thousand survivors.
Cloud Knights who'd fought to their last breath—now ash on the wind.
"So this… is fate."
Tears fell on desolate soil. An Ming gathered Wuye's fragments, silent.
Starwatcher Harbor
Fu Xuan clenched trembling fists. She'd lost her master. She couldn't lose An Ming too.
Today, the warships returned. The Third Abundance War had ended. Luofu's toll: hundreds of thousands never coming home.
The vessel docked. Fu Xuan spotted An Ming instantly—and froze.
Those eyes…
Empty. Haunted. A ghost wearing An Ming's face.
"An Ming!"
She shoved through the crowd—past joyous reunions and shattered hopes—grabbing his hand.
"Xuan'er-jie…"
A flicker of life returned as he gripped her. He breathed, yet felt dead.
"Are you hurt? I was so—" Fu Xuan bit her lip. Of course. Her master was gone. No need to ask. "Let's go home."
She hugged him tightly, tears held back.
Warmth seeped into An Ming's hollow core.
When they'd left, late spring blossoms perfumed the air. Now autumn's chill scattered peach petals like snow.