Those Who Should Leave Will Not Stay

The battlefield is cruel, and its cruelty lies in never knowing who will die or when.

Among the cultivators who arrived with Chen Xia, few remain. Not many Saints survived, those of the Heaven Mending Realm were completely wiped out, and only a handful of Great Saints barely managed to cling to life.

One Saint, unable to bear the oppressive atmosphere, roared and wept, begging to return to his homeland.

The Great Emperors naturally wouldn't allow his departure. If they set a precedent for cultivators to leave, the morale of those on the frontline would become unstable.

So Emperor Tianhe stood guard at the frontline's perimeter, restraining the Saint with one hand, halting his advance.

The Saint's emotions were on the verge of collapse. His decades-long cultivation had been worn down by the recent life-and-death battles, to the point where he dared to point at the Great Emperor's face and roar:

"I am a Saint, a revered being in the Star Region, worshipped by thousands! I'm not your expendable cannon fodder to be sent to die!"

At these words, the surrounding Saints fell silent.

Looking back at the past decades of fighting, these ordinary Saints indeed seemed no different from cannon fodder, having no control over their own fate, possibly perishing on the frontline any day.

Emperor Tianhe's face grew stern as he questioned gravely:

"This is a battle against the Way of Heaven. Not just your lives, but even my own life is insignificant in comparison."

"What does being a Saint matter? In this battle, even more than ten Great Emperors have fallen. If Saints can die, and Great Emperors can die, what makes you think you're exempt?!"

"I... I..." the Saint stammered, unsure how to respond. His head lowered, visible panic crossing his face as his eyes darted about, his voice breaking as he continued:

"But I never know when I might die. I've been fighting on the frontline for three hundred years. I want to go home, I want to return—at least let me die in my homeland."

"Who doesn't?" Emperor Tianhe countered, then addressed all the cultivators present:

"If everyone thinks this way, we might as well stop resisting the Way of Heaven's judgment. Go ahead, return to your homelands."

"I am one without a home to return to, so I don't share your attachments. At worst, I'll charge into the Dark Invasion alone, killing as many as I can."

"But what about after that?"

The Saints remained silent, unable to formulate a response.

Emperor Tianhe's voice grew louder, resonating like a magnificent proclamation as he addressed the Saints:

"Then the Way of Heaven's judgment will proceed unopposed, from the highest heavens to the lowest realms. All Star Regions, all cultivators will perish!"

"Those who don't wish to die can only become remnants of darkness, puppets unable to control even their own consciousness, until they're completely absorbed after the Way of Heaven's judgment!"

These words rang true, leaving the assembled Saints without any counter-arguments.

Emperor Tianhe stood straight, his eyebrows raised, and finally declared:

"Those who wish to leave, I won't forcibly stop you. Behind me lies the path away from the frontline. For those who fear death..."

"You may pass!"

The Saints fell into profound silence, heads bowed in deep thought.

At that very moment, coincidentally,

A figure descended from the battlefield—it was Chen Xia, fresh from combat. His blue robe was completely red, its original color indiscernible, and he bore numerous wounds.

Holding his celestial sword, he landed shakily and limped forward, still managing a light smile as he asked curiously:

"What's all the commotion about?"

The Saints looked at Chen Xia, none daring to answer, most of their eyes flickering with shame.

Emperor Tianhe shook his head and replied: "Nothing much, just some people who can't take it anymore wanting to go home."

"Ah?" Chen Xia's expression froze momentarily, as if not quite processing the information. His blood-covered celestial sword trembled, scattering droplets of battle-worn blood.

The Saints hurriedly tried to explain to Chen Xia: "We just miss home terribly, so..."

Their words trailed off, too embarrassed to continue in front of Chen Xia, who stood before them covered in blood.

Chen Xia put away his flying sword and limped forward.

The Saints instinctively made way, watching as he walked to the front to stand shoulder to shoulder with Emperor Tianhe.

Chen Xia wiped the blood from his face, then smiled gently at the crowd:

"Missing home is natural, and returning home is good too. Go back if you want to, it's fine. But after you return home, will you want to come back here?"

"Fighting on the frontline is about protecting your homeland. I hope you understand this principle, after all, none of us wanted to come here."

At this point, Chen Xia's expression dimmed slightly, and he shook his head with a bitter smile:

"Actually, I miss my homeland too. Don't laugh, but I'm probably the one who least wanted to come to the frontline. I'm naturally lazy, something of a good-for-nothing."

"But in life, there are always things worth risking everything for. Without such things, I think life would lose much of its flavor."

Chen Xia's brow smoothed as he smiled again, asking the crowd:

"Don't you agree?"

Some Saints raised their hands and called out, "Chen Saint's words come from the heart. I do miss home, but I'm willing to fight alongside Chen Saint!"

Others negotiated: "Could we return to the Star Region just once, see our homeland once, and then come right back?"

"I also want to return home, but afterward, I'll fight at the very front!"

"..."

The Saints' voices continued.

"Shh." Chen Xia placed his finger to his lips, gesturing for silence, quieting the crowd of cultivators before continuing:

"If you want to leave, you may, but leave behind your spirit stones, pills, and magical treasures. Those who don't wish to return must also pay additional tribute of pills and magical treasures each year. I'll keep a list, and once you're registered, you can leave."

These were Chen Xia's terms.

In the end, nearly half the cultivators left. How many would return?

No one could say for certain.

Emperor Tianhe looked at Chen Xia beside him and frowned:

"Just let them leave like this?"

Chen Xia shook the still-wet blood from his clothes and quietly replied to Emperor Tianhe:

"Those who should come will come, those who should leave shouldn't be kept. Better to let them return than wait for them to betray us on their deathbeds and turn to the Dark Invasion. This way, at least we show some humanity. If we can't hold out in the end, none will escape anyway."

This was the seventieth year of the battle.

Half of the cultivators remained on the frontline.

Fatigue was showing.