The wind blew softly through Ashfall Village.
But there was no one left to feel it.
The streets were empty now. Houses stood still. Windows dark. Doors half-open. Even the ashes in the air had stopped drifting.
Wang Jie stood in the center of the square, unmoving.
But the weight on his shoulders hadn't faded.
He didn't speak. He didn't cry. He just breathed slowly, his hands resting at his sides like they didn't know what to do anymore.
Jin Hao stared at the screen in silence.
He hadn't blinked in a while.
His fingers hovered over the interface, but he wasn't sure what he wanted to click. There were no enemies to fight. No tabs to open. Just a village that wasn't there anymore.
And one man still standing.
"…You just… watched them go," Jin Hao whispered.
His voice cracked more than he expected. He coughed and looked away, then back again.
"I didn't… I didn't think it'd be like that."
Wang Jie knelt slowly.
He reached into the dirt with his bare hands and began digging.
Jin Hao blinked. "What are you doing?"
But he already knew.
One by one, he cleared a patch of ground in the center of the village. He moved carefully. No rush. No hesitation. Just work. Quiet, respectful, relentless.
When the pit was deep enough, Wang Jie stood and walked to the remains of the meeting hall. The walls were cracked. The door hung sideways. Inside, the elder's robes were all that remained — folded neatly on the floor, untouched by ash.
Wang Jie picked them up with both hands, then turned toward the center of the village and lowered them into the grave.
Then he turned and did the same for every house.
A shawl here.
A cooking knife.
A prayer charm hung above a doorway.
He didn't leave anything behind.
He didn't look away.
Jin Hao sat frozen, watching every motion. It didn't feel like a game. Not anymore.
Not after this.
When Wang Jie was done, he filled the pit again, slow and steady. He didn't stop until the ground was smooth.
Then, from a broken courtyard wall, he pulled a stone.
It wasn't fancy. Just clean.
He placed it at the head of the grave.
Then, with a small carving tool from his storage pouch, he began to etch.
Jin Hao watched as the words slowly took shape.
They weren't flashy.
They weren't dramatic.
Just a single line, carved with a steady hand.
[Here rest the forgotten — those who gave everything when the world did not ask.]
He stepped back and looked at it in silence.
The wind stirred once.
Then everything went still again.
Wang Jie bowed low.
And Jin Hao didn't say a word.
Because for once… there was nothing to joke about.
...
...
Wang Jie stepped through the teleportation array and returned to the Jade Immortal Sect.
The courtyard welcomed him with silence. The formation flags swayed gently, the broken stones still stained with faint qi. It looked exactly the same.
But something had changed.
Wang Jie walked to the center of the courtyard and bowed low.
"Ancestor," he said quietly, "I have returned."
He stood and spoke in a level tone.
"What happened in Ashfall Village… is over. The villagers fulfilled their duty. Their strength has joined the seal. There is nothing left behind."
There was a pause. The kind of silence that meant the rest didn't need to be said.
"But of course… my ancestor must already know. Someone of your strength must have seen it clearly."
He bowed again, lower this time.
On the other side of the screen, Jin Hao stared for a moment, then sighed.
Without a word, he opened the interface and dropped a golden scroll into the courtyard.
The scroll floated gently to the ground in front of Wang Jie, unfurling with a faint flash.
[Yes.]
Wang Jie closed his eyes. "Then I am at peace."
He stepped back and exhaled.
"I had originally planned to take a disciple from Ashfall and take them as disciples. I also planned to recruit laborers to help rebuild the damaged buildings of our Sect. There were still those who remembered the name Jade Immortal."
He shook his head once.
"But that path is gone. So I must look farther."
He turned toward the edge of the ruins.
"The nearest city lies west — across the boundary. A mortal city in the Falling Wind Domain."
He paused, his tone steady despite the weight of the next line.
"It will take thousands of years to reach on foot."
Jin Hao blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
He yanked the map open and zoomed out. The region they were in — the Jade Immortal Domain — took up nearly a full panel. Forests, mountains, plains, and fractured spirit lakes dotted the land.
Then he zoomed out again.
A single neighboring domain — Falling Wind — sprawled beside it like a layered continent, blurring with faded markers and half-locked zones.
Jin Hao stared at the size of it.
He didn't know how big a domain really was.
But it looked like several Earths stitched together.
And that was just one domain out of who-knew-how-many.
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.
Wang Jie adjusted his pack, leather armor gleaming faintly in the early sunlight.
"I will find disciples there," he said. "And builders. Our sect will not rise alone."
He stepped toward the path again.
The last light of the teleportation array flickered out.
Wang Jie was gone — already on the path to the next domain.
The sect courtyard stood quiet again, the broken stones catching nothing but wind. Even the flags seemed to rest. The golden scroll remained on the ground for a moment longer before fading gently into sparks.
Jin Hao leaned back in his chair.
He stared at the screen.
At the ruins.
The events of Ashfall still played in his head. The moment the villagers were drained. The elder's calm words. The look on Wang Jie's face when he realized what it cost.
It kept replaying. Over and over.
And for someone like Jin Hao — someone who had spent most of his life behind a screen, drifting through cheap cultivator games and secondhand stories — it hurt in a way he wasn't used to.
He rubbed his eyes and sat forward.
"…I didn't stop it."
His voice was quiet. Not blaming. Just honest.
"I watched it happen, and I didn't know what to do."
He looked at his hands.
Still normal. Still plain.
But somewhere inside, he knew he wasn't the same.
The screen flickered, showing the sect status window. Only one name blinked under the header: [Wang Jie – Traveling].
Jin Hao stared at the empty list.
And slowly, a thought settled in his chest.
I'm the ancestor now.
Not a joke.
Not just a gamer with a cheat interface.
Not anymore.
He wasn't sure when it happened — maybe when the badge lit up, or when Wang Jie bowed for the first time. Maybe when the villagers gave their lives without fear, trusting someone they never met.
But something inside him had shifted.
For once… responsibility had entered his life.
And he cherished it.
No alarms. No noise.
Just something real, pressing down on his heart like a weight he didn't want to shake off.
He looked back at the screen, and his eyes narrowed.
"I need to get stronger."
He said it again, louder.
"I need to get stronger. Smarter. Better. Because I don't want to see that again. I won't let something like Ashfall happen twice."
His hands curled into fists.
"For someone like me… who hasn't seen much death…"
He paused.
Then said it softly.
"I was a flower in a greenhouse. Protected. Sheltered. Useless."
He looked at the ruins again.
"But not anymore."
The camera zoomed in automatically, locking onto the center of the courtyard.
Jin Hao leaned forward.
And the ancestor of the sect smiled — not out of arrogance, but from something deeper.
Purpose.