The dust finally began to settle, and the battlefield, once obscured by chaos, came into view. The silence that followed was thick, punctuated only by the faint crackling of lingering dark magic in the air. Sun Lixia stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest as the hazy figures before her took shape. Her eyes locked onto Zhang Yiming, or rather, Ping Jun—standing tall, triumphant, over Li Chen’s unmoving form.

The pit in her stomach deepened. She held her breath, hoping beyond hope that Li Chen would stir, that he’d somehow rise and continue the fight. But Li Chen lay still, his body crumpled on the ground, his chest not moving.

Zhang Yiming turned toward Sun Lixia, a cold, twisted smile creeping across his face. He winked, as if savoring her dread. Her hands instinctively flew to her mouth, her pulse racing as her worst nightmare slowly unfolded before her.

Before she could react, Zhang Yiming reached down and grabbed Madam Tang by the collar of her dress, dragging her across the ground. "Wake up, old fool," he snarled, landing a sharp slap across her face. The impact echoed through the tense air, and Madam Tang gasped as her eyes flew open.

Disoriented, Madam Tang blinked against the settling dust. Her vision focused on the carnage around her, and her heart seized in her chest. Li Chen, Li Xinjie, Shadow—all lay unmoving on the ground, their bodies battered and broken. She couldn’t breathe, the weight of their sacrifice crushing her.

Zhang Yiming loomed over her, his voice dripping with malice. "You’re going to fully open the portal, or I’ll kill everyone here. Do you understand?"

Madam Tang’s breath quickened. Her heart raced, her mind scrambling for options. She glanced around and saw Wang Ying, clutching the arm of an old man who had tried, in vain, to protect her. His face was etched with pain, his strength nearly spent, but his eyes were clear. He shook his head, silently pleading with her not to give in.

"I will not open that portal," Madam Tang said, her voice trembling but resolute. "You will have to kill me first."

Zhang Yiming chuckled, the sound dark and cold. "Is that so?" He laughed again, this time louder, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. "There’s no one left to protect you, old woman. You’re going to open that portal, whether you like it or not."

Madam Tang’s fists clenched at her sides. "Over my dead body," she repeated, her voice firmer this time.

"Suit yourself," Zhang Yiming said, his eyes gleaming with cruelty. He gestured to one of his guards, who dragged Wang Ying forward. "I see you two are very close. What are you—siblings?"

Madam Tang’s face tightened, her teeth clenched in fury.

Zhang Yiming tilted his head, smiling as though he had discovered some dark secret. "Ah, I see I was right. Your brother... how touching." He turned to the guard, his tone casual but lethal. "Kill him."

"No!" Madam Tang screamed, her composure crumbling. "No, don’t hurt him. I’ll do it. I’ll open the portal."

"Sister, no," Wang Ying said, his voice weak but insistent. "You can’t do this. I’m already a dead man, it doesn’t matter if I die now. But if you open that portal, the world—everything—will be lost."

Tears welled in Madam Tang’s eyes as she looked at her brother, the man who had been with her through every hardship, every struggle. She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I can’t live knowing your blood is on my hands."

"It’s okay," Wang Ying whispered, his voice soft, resigned. "This is the end for me. But you... you have your sons. Junjie and Ziyi—they deserve a world better than the one this man wants to create."

Madam Tang stared at her brother, her heart breaking into pieces. The weight of the choice crushed her. She had lost so much already, and the thought of losing Wang Ying too—her last remaining family—was unbearable.

"I won’t let you die, brother," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Zhang Yiming’s smile grew colder, sharper. "Great choice. Now, do it. I don’t have time to waste. There are more places to go, more people to see."

As Madam Tang hesitated, torn between the fate of her brother and the fate of the world, Sun Lixia and Li Xiaojun rushed to their sons’ sides. They reached Li Xinjie first, who groaned in pain, his body bruised and bloodied but still clinging to life.

"Mom..." Li Xinjie coughed, struggling to speak through his pain. "I’m okay... Li Chen, how is Li Chen?"

Li Xiaojun knelt beside Li Chen’s still form, his face dark with worry. He pressed his fingers against his son’s neck, searching for a pulse. His frown deepened as the silence stretched on.

"How is he?" Sun Lixia asked, her voice shaking as she knelt beside her husband.

Li Xiaojun didn’t respond, his fingers trembling as they moved to lift Li Chen into his arms. The stillness of Li Chen’s body, the unnatural slackness of his limbs—it was too much.

"How is my son?" Sun Lixia’s voice grew louder, more desperate.

Li Xiaojun finally lifted his head, his eyes filled with grief. "We lost him, darling," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Sun Lixia’s entire world shattered in an instant. Her body shook uncontrollably as the words sank in. "No," she whispered, disbelief and horror washing over her. "No... this can’t be happening. No, no... my son. My boy."

Li Xinjie’s scream of anguish pierced the air. His heart broke, not just from the physical pain of his injuries, but from the unbearable agony of losing his twin brother. The bond they had shared since birth was gone, ripped away in a heartbeat. His grief consumed him, the weight of it pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Li Xiaojun, his face pale and stricken, cradled Li Chen’s lifeless body in his arms. The warrior, the hero, the son they had loved so fiercely—he was gone. The man who had once been their hope, their strength, now lay still in his father’s embrace.

Sun Lixia couldn’t take her eyes off her son’s face, her mind refusing to accept what was in front of her. She reached out with trembling hands, her fingers brushing against Li Chen’s cold skin. "Wake up, please... please wake up, my boy..." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

But there was no response. No flicker of life.

Li Xiaojun, his throat tight with emotion, lifted Li Chen’s body and began to walk towards the car. His steps were slow, heavy, as if each one carried the weight of the entire world. Sun Lixia followed him, her sobs echoing through the battlefield, her tears blurring her vision.

Li Xinjie, his body battered but his heart shattered, struggled to his feet, his legs shaking as he limped toward the car. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the pain in his soul, the deep, aching wound that came from losing his brother. His twin. His other half.

Shadow, though injured himself, could only watch, his jaw clenched in silent grief. He had served Li Chen faithfully, had fought by his side, and now... now there was nothing left to protect. He too followed, his heart heavy with the loss.

The drive back to Shanghai was a blur of sorrow and silence. Sun Lixia’s sobs filled the car, her grief raw and overwhelming. She clutched Li Chen’s hand, refusing to let go, as if holding him could somehow bring him back. Beside her, Li Xiaojun drove in stoic silence, his eyes red-rimmed but dry, his face set in stone as he focused on the road ahead. He knew if he allowed himself to feel, to truly absorb the loss, he would fall apart.

Li Xinjie sat in the back, his body slumped against the seat, his face pale from both pain and grief. The wounds on his body felt like nothing compared to the deep, searing ache in his chest. He stared at Li Chen, his vision blurred by tears, his heart screaming at the injustice of it all.

His brother was gone.

Li Chen, the one who had always been there for him, the one who had fought for their family, for the world—they had lost him. And nothing in the world would ever be the same again.

In the silence of the car, their grief was a tangible thing, a weight that pressed down on them all. The sobs, the grinding of teeth, the raw agony of loss—it was all they had left.

Li Xinjie’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms until blood dripped down onto the seat. But even that pain couldn’t distract him from the deeper wound inside. The wound that would never heal.

They had lost Li Chen.

And the world had lost its greatest protector.

What would they tell Zhang Mei, the pregnant wife, a woman carrying twins, waiting for her husband’s return.