Chapter 1560 - 85: The Value of Life (3)

As midnight approached, the wails became intermittent. In the darkness, the woman was utterly immobilized, with only her heart struggling to beat, the instincts of life hastening her self-recovery, striving to heal more wounds in the night while waiting for daylight to descend once more.

Serey stood above the deep well, accompanying the woman, constantly pleading, hoping the woman would submit, just as she had once accepted his blood, to survive once more for him.

Regrettably, the woman’s throat had been burned through, unable to utter a sound, and even if she could speak, she would not respond.

For Serey’s stubborn and narrow love, she had already sacrificed her soul once; she wouldn’t sell herself out a second time.

The second day...

The third day...

Repeating until the seventh day, the woman completely perished, the cyclical sunlight and night consuming her last bit of vitality and blood, turning into a pile of irretrievable dust, thus concluding this slow and cruel execution.

Serey couldn’t remember how he left at that time; he only knew that since then, he had never cried again. Likewise, because of the woman’s death, Serey felt an abnormal change in what he thought was his unchanged heart.

It seemed... it seemed something was brewing in the shadows, struggling, tearing apart the cage called cowardice, crawling along Serey’s bones, bloodlines, and limbs, devouring the flesh along the way, strengthening itself, until it seemingly killed off the original Serey, replacing his shell.

"I gathered her ashes, dazedly returned to my room, and there, I saw the gift Aisha had left for me," Serey said in a murmurous tone, "It was an elaborately decorated box containing a dagger... the Bloodthirsty Dagger."

"I examined that dagger, certain it could kill the Night Race, yet Aisha didn’t bring it to assassinate the Night King," by this point, Serey had lost all emotion. "She did it deliberately, deliberately going to assassinate the Night King, using her sacrifice to awaken my rebellion against the Night King."

Sai Zong asked, "And then... you did those things?"

"Mm."

Serey nodded honestly, speaking of these with a cruel smile on his face, "What followed is well-known. On the eve of the battle, I slit the throats of my blood relatives with this dagger, one after another, nearly slaughtering all of the Pure-blood Night Race’s ranks.

I proceeded to inform the coalition about the distribution of the Night Race’s forces, the positions of critical figures on the battlefield, even the Night King... I disclosed everything I knew."

Sai Zong was familiar with the ensuing history. In some sense, the conclusion of the Dawn War marked the beginning of another war.

"Under your betrayal, the Seeker of Glory from the Clarks dispelled the Dark Iron Curtain, and without even engaging, the Night Race’s army turned to ashes under the sunlight. Meanwhile, you secretly destroyed the Alchemy Matrix of the Dark Iron Curtain in different areas, allowing the sunlight to equally obliterate all Night Race on the territory of the Eternal Night Empire.

Without the protection of the Dark Iron Curtain, in one night, the Eternal Night Empire’s domain shrank to just the Royal City, and under your conspiracy, the city gates flung wide open."

"Was it me?" Serey questioned himself, his eyes hazy as if intoxicated. "Sorry, I can’t recall that memory anymore, it’s like I was overwhelmed by the fury of vengeance, and by the time I regained consciousness, everything was over."

In the reckoning after the Dawn War, most of the Night Race were executed by Serey, their punishment surprisingly consistent.

Daylight Punishment.

"No need for laborious chopping, nor would the knife go dull, and there wouldn’t be miscellaneous trouble; just the sunlight was enough. Whether it was bone, viscera, or blood, would turn to ash, cleanly as can be," back then Serey explained it this way, "The only unpleasantry is the cruelty of the execution process, but compared to what they did, isn’t this well-deserved?"

"And what about you, Serey? You made mistakes, did you face retribution?"

Someone harshly questioned, being the Night King’s most trusted eldest son, Serey was once the vanguard of the Night Race army, having slain countless individuals, conquered and burned one city after another.

Logically, Serey should also be scorched by the blazing sun, yet he betrayed the Night Race, aiding the coalition in winning the war.

Now, Serey, the damned war criminal, had become a hero.

Serey cared nothing about the complicated glances, the words of curses; he merely began his execution by himself.

Before a new day dawned, Serey dragged the remaining Pure Blood of the Night Race, nailing them to the ground one by one, regardless of their pleas or curses. Serey only laughed wildly, letting the sunlight reduce them to ashes.

For those not burnt to death, Serey wouldn’t deliver a final blow for mercy, but instead slashed his own wrists, infusing his pure blood into them.

"Choose."

This was Serey’s most frequent utterance during that period.

Some of the Night Race understood Serey’s words, refusing to drink his blood; others, scared to death, extended their withered tongues, desperately licking the blood.

Their broken bodies began to heal, then the sun rose again.

On the seventh day, all of the Night Race turned to dust.

Serey stood amidst the ash heap like a sea of sand, quietly waiting. He removed his light-protective cloak, gazing at the gradually rising golden horizon.