Chapter 5472

Many years had flown by since Morgana’s last visit to Lucius’s resting place. Though hundreds of years
had lapsed, she could still discern the spot where Lucius’s grave had been.

Despite her having obliterated the tombstone and even the graves themselves having been consumed
by the relentless passage of time, she had an uncanny knack for locating Lucius’s burial site.

Though she knew his body wasn’t entombed here, Morgana still regarded this place as the closest
connection to her older brother.

At that moment, her heart brimmed with sorrow, remorse and a touch of bitterness. Her emotions surged
and like an unbidden tide, the events of that fateful year flooded her thoughts.

Initially, Morgana’s rush of affection and impulsive feelings for Lucius, followed by his abrupt
disappearance from her view, had led her to believe that he must have been dispatched to Maria with the
ring bestowed by their mentor. Thus, she had hastily departed the mountains and embarked on a journey
in search of him.

Yet the road from the Mountains was perilous and far-flung and Morgana was still a prime fugitive hunted
by the rebel court.

Undaunted, she undertook great trials to reach Diannan, only to find Lucius’s body already missing,
consigned to the earth. It was then she learned the grim truth, her older brother, whose cultivation
outshone her own, had met his demise by her own hand.

Truthfully, she hadn’t intended to end Lucius’s life. Her aim was to seize the Eternal Green Pill that their
Master had left in Lucius’s care, along with the enigmatic ring.

Moreover, in her estimation, given Lucius’s prowess, even a stab to his heart shouldn’t have proven fatal.



After all, Lucius wielded mastery over reiki. Though his cultivation remained nascent, his reiki wasn’t
wholly lacking, enabling him to temporarily stabilize his injuries and progressively recuperate by
harnessing his spiritual essence. His wounds would mend and vitality would be restored, in a mere
month or two, he’d be whole again, as he had been.

Once in Diannan and after much inquiry, Morgana received the unthinkable news, Lucius had been
interred, a truth she struggled to fathom. Only through persistent questioning did the reality settle in,
Lucius was indeed gone, with his daughter arranging his burial.

Regret was now beyond her reach, for no matter how she lamented, the dead could not be reclaimed. So
resentment seeped in, a belief that Lucius had chosen death over her love, a love spanning the ages.

And so, she vented her rage upon Lucius’s tombstone and even upon Maria’s mother’s, abstaining from
returning for years. Her absence wasn’t because she’d moved on from Lucius, but rather, in over three
centuries, she still could not banish his memory from her heart.

And now, kneeling at Lucius’s grave, Morgana whispered with emotion, “Brother Lucius, vividly I recall
our first encounter. Back then, you were thirteen or fourteen and I, a mere twelve or thirteen, yet at that
sight, love took root. From that day, I awaited your presence in our home, longing to glimpse you.
Outside my brother’s chamber, I’d eavesdrop on your weighty discussions…”

“Upon hearing your plan to forsake the pen for the sword, I learned to bind my hair and wield the sword
and spear, practicing ceaselessly. I yearned to stand by your side, to fight at your flank, to assist in your
battles. Then, I concluded I’d stand with you for a lifetime. Wherever you ventured, I’d be there; whatever
your venture, I’d share it. I’d follow your sword into the rebel ranks or return to the fields, forsaking strife,
to stand at your side. Such were my thoughts, such my devotion.”

“When you and your elder sister founded the Warriors Den, I was the third member of the Warriors Den
Association. Though you and your sister rejected my inclusion, I remained steadfast, declaring intent to
stand alongside you both. I cited patriotism as my motivation, but in truth, I was merely a woman…”



“My allegiance was yours, regardless of Han or anyone. I wished only to be near you, my cherished one.
If you declared this realm for the emperor, I’d march sword in hand against the rebels until the last, if you
chose peace in any realm, I’d cast aside my blade and pledge my loyalty.”

As her words flowed, Morgana’s tears flowed freely. She set alight the final sheet of yellow paper voice
choked, “Brother Lucius, I thought time would sway your heart, but I was blind to the truth, you never
loved me. I stood by you from the year of the golden hairpin to your fortieth year…”

“Twenty-eight years of valor, countless battles, near-death escapes. Amid it all, many worthy hearts
sought mine, but only yours held it. From that first gaze to my final strike, all I gave was for you. But to
my dismay, you remained unmoved. My heart’s lament…”

Now, Morgana wept openly, unable to utter more.

Nori refrained from invoking his spiritual aura, observing Morgana’s faint form through shifting shadows.
He sensed tears, yet couldn’t be sure.

Maria, though she couldn’t make out Morgana clearly, observed the dappled firelight amid the woods.
Complex emotions swept across her features. She’d assumed Morgana’s visit was born of anger for her
father, not foreseeing the ritual with the yellow paper before his grave.

Unbeknownst to her, Morgana, after wiping her tears, opened an old wine jug, pouring its contents onto
the burnt offerings.

She murmured, “Brother Lucius, in three centuries, I’ve witnessed the world’s evolution. The more it
changed, the more I yearned to remain. Yet, lacking a Millennial Pill, I have but a century left. Maria, my
brother’s sole heir, has eluded me for three hundred years. My intentions aren’t malicious. Should she
willingly yield the ring, I’ll show her kindness. But time wanes, patience dims. If she obstructs me,
repercussions will follow. Forgive me, Brother…”



Pausing, Morgana sighed, “By the way, I plan to scour the mountain vicinity, seeking our Master’s hidden
trove. Its discovery may reconcile us, else Maria and I tread a different path.”

Pouring the last of the wine onto the earth, she whispered, “Brother Lucius, I depart now. When I acquire
the pill, I’ll pay respects again.”

With the wine gone, Morgana arose and exited the forest. She left behind the bustling youths and the
rising sun, without a backward glance. Little did she suspect that Maria, whom she sought for over three
centuries, lingered amidst those jovial young souls.

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