"It!"
"It didn't die!"
In the heavy, oppressive living room, Miles Ning suddenly sprang up, screaming in hysteria, struggling toward the television screen.
But his frail, powerless body could only crash into the sofa stand, not even breaking it—just nudging it askew... nearly collapsing into the narrow gap between the stand and the couch.
A crystal-like arm reached out to support Miles Ning.
"Master."
Interrupted, Andrew Han nearly jumped in shock, his heart clenching tightly.
He often joked about Miles Ning's train of thought—like a madman with a mind that wandered far. But at this moment, supporting Miles Ning felt like holding up decayed, heavy timber: trembling, fragile, at the sunset of his years.
This was real.
His master truly was at the end of his strength, his oil burnt out and his lamp extinguished.
"If only I had a little more time." Andrew Han gritted his teeth, his chest burning as if with fire, yet he could only watch helplessly as Miles Ning fell into a state of hysteria.
There wasn't enough time.
With every passing minute and second, Miles Ning grew weaker, unable to hold out until Andrew could invent a method to prolong his life.
"Master."
"Calm down, Master... Who—who is it?" Andrew's eyes grew moist. "Is it one of those three Black Dragons from back then?"
It!
It didn't die!
It's back—it didn't die!
His wrinkled, aged face was twisted with madness, his clouded eyes blood-red, struggling violently. Ignoring Andrew's support and questions, his hysterical cries echoed through the living room.
The agony and torment, like surging waves, had tortured Miles Ning for twenty-two years.
But now.
The first Black Dragon from back then did not die. It has returned, stirring the sea, and is charging toward Yunhai.
"It didn't die!"
"How is it not dead!" Miles Ning, usually cold and ruthless, was flushed with rage, his frail body trembling, his crazed eyes revealing a terrifying mix of defiance, fury, and grief that threatened to shatter his mind.
With every shout,
Andrew Han felt his heart tighten.
"Master, Master." Andrew called out, "I'll kill it. I'll go kill it right now."
Upon hearing this,
Miles Ning's body suddenly froze.
Time seemed to freeze at that moment. Slowly, he turned his bloodshot eyes, his voice hoarse and aged: "Will you kill it?"
"I can. I absolutely can!" Andrew Han was nearly hysterical.
If the Black Dragon reappeared, Andrew Han would give his life without hesitation. If he could not kill the Black Dragon, he swore he would not call himself human!
"I can kill it."
"You can kill it..." Miles Ning muttered, his eyes vacant, panting for breath, as if his mind had gone blank and only endless emotions tangled together.
Andrew Han did not rush him, quietly supporting Miles Ning.
Perhaps it was two or three seconds.
Perhaps it was two or three minutes.
The madness and coldness on Miles Ning's wrinkled old face suddenly collapsed. He stared at Andrew Han, and for the first time revealed a pleading look, blood-red tears streaming from the corners of his eyes: "I've never asked anything of you, never... Today, I beg you—kill it, kill it!!"
As he spoke, his body sank down.
Miles Ning was actually about to kneel... This was the man who had given all his cultivation to the Green Mountain Sect, destroyed his own Venerable Saint power, and sworn to defend the nation to the death... This was the master who supported Andrew Han's growth and protected him as he grew strong.