Douluo: Martial Soul White Tiger, I am the White Emperor of Heaven

Qian Renxue chuckled softly, her laughter carrying a hint of regret, a hint of relief, and a hint of indescribable emotion: "Unfortunately, we have no next life."

The three remained silent for a moment, then the three shadowy figures in the darkness drew closer and closer, as if they wanted to feel each other's warmth one last time before dissipating.

“Lady Qian Renxue,” Zhao Feng suddenly spoke, his voice tinged with hesitation, “There are some things I have never said.”

“Me too,” Lin Mo said.

Qian Renxue was silent for a moment, then said softly, "I know."

Three words, yet they contain a thousand unspoken words. A century of fighting side by side, a millennium of guardianship and inheritance, all the unspoken emotions, all the tenderness hidden behind the battles, have all been transformed into these three words at this moment.

I know.

"If there is an afterlife..." Qian Renxue's voice grew softer and softer, her illusory figure faded and faded, "I will wait for you."

"Definitely," Zhao Feng said.

"Definitely," Lin Mo said.

The three illusory figures simultaneously unleashed their last glimmer of light, a warm and gentle glow, like the tenderest embrace, like the most heartfelt farewell. The light flickered in the darkness for a moment, then vanished completely.

Darkness returned to silence, as if nothing had happened.

But some things will never disappear.

It was late autumn in the year 1026 of the Chinese calendar.

Three months have passed since that great battle.

Tiandou City has returned to its former prosperity. The streets are bustling with people, the cries of vendors rise and fall, children play and frolic in the square, and the elderly sit on benches along the street basking in the sun. Everything looks the same as before, yet everything is different.

In the center of the square, a colossal sculpture is under construction. The sculpture is modeled after three figures: Qian Renxue stands in the center, with six pairs of angel wings spread behind her, holding a golden book in her left hand and a golden holy sword in her right; Zhao Feng stands to Qian Renxue's right, holding a golden battle axe, wearing golden armor, and with piercing eyes; Lin Mo stands to Qian Renxue's left, surrounded by lightning, with the phantom of the Holy Angel Spirit Abyss Dragon Emperor floating behind him.

The base of the sculpture is inscribed with the words: "Heroes are immortal, guardians never cease – in remembrance of Qian Renxue, Zhao Feng, and Lin Mo, three heroes who sacrificed their lives to protect the mainland."

The sculpture is surrounded by flowers and candles. Every day, countless people come here to offer flowers, light candles, and pray. Among them are elderly people with white hair, children with schoolbags, soldiers with weapons, and spirit masters in long robes. Everyone pauses for a moment in front of the sculpture, closes their eyes, prays silently, and then places the flowers in their hands before the sculpture.

Su Chen stood before the sculpture, gazing at the three familiar figures, his eyes slightly red. For the past three months, he had come here almost every day, sometimes in the morning, sometimes late at night, sometimes alone, sometimes with Ares. He always felt that as long as he stood here, those three people had never truly left.

“Strategist,” Ares’s voice came from behind, “The special envoy of the Heavenly Dou Empire has arrived and wants to see you.”

Su Chen didn't turn around, but simply nodded slightly: "Let him wait a while." Ares was silent for a moment, then said: "Strategist, you've been standing here for two hours."

“I know,” Su Chen said softly. “Ares, do you think they can hear our prayers?”

Ares thought for a moment, then shook his head: "I don't know. But I do know that if they were still alive, they would tell us to do what we should do, instead of us being here grieving for them."

Su Chen turned around, looked at Ares's rough but sincere face, and smiled wryly: "When did you become so good at talking?"

"After following you for a while, I naturally learned it." Ares grinned, the smile somewhat forced, but he still tried his best to maintain it.

Su Chen took a deep breath, glanced at the sculpture one last time, and then turned to leave. His steps were firm and steady, just as Zhao Feng had taught him years ago—no matter what you face, hold your head high and move forward resolutely. Because the sacrifice of the heroes was not meant to immerse them in sorrow, but to enable them to live better and better protect this land.

The special envoy from the Heavenly Dou Empire brought news that the Heavenly Dou Empire's royal family has decided to designate this day of the year as "Martyrs' Memorial Day," with a national holiday and commemorative activities held in all towns and villages to remember the heroes who sacrificed their lives to protect the continent.

Upon hearing this news, Su Chen remained silent for a long time before saying, "Okay."

He said nothing superfluous, for he knew that these formal commemorations were far less important than passing on the spirit of the martyrs. The sacrifices of Qian Renxue, Zhao Feng, and Lin Mo were not meant to be commemorated, but to be passed down. Their beliefs, their dedication, their spirit—these need to be passed down from generation to generation; this is the best way to honor them.

As night fell, the lights of Tiandou City lit up one by one, like stars on the ground, echoing the stars in the sky.

Su Chen sat in his study, a huge map spread out before him, marking the distribution of various forces across the continent. Although the Void Cult hadn't been completely wiped out after the great war, it had lost the support of the Void Seed and was severely weakened, unable to pose a threat in the short term. However, the peace on the continent was only temporary; all forces were secretly accumulating strength, waiting for the next opportunity.

"Strategist." Ares pushed open the door and came in, carrying a bowl of hot soup. "You haven't eaten anything all day."

Su Chen took the soup bowl, took a sip, and then put it down: "Ares, do you think we'll ever see them again?"

Ares paused for a moment, then shook his head: "Strategist, you've asked this question many times already."

“I know,” Su Chen said with a wry smile, “but every time I think about them, I can’t help but ask.”

Ares was silent for a moment, then said, “Strategist, I don’t understand anything about souls or reincarnation, but I do know that as long as we live, as long as we remember them, they will never truly disappear. Because they live in our hearts and in our actions.”

Su Chen looked at Ares with a hint of surprise in his eyes: "Ares, your performance today makes me wonder if you've been possessed by something."

Ares scratched his head and smiled憨厚ly: "Actually, these words were said to me by Commander Zhao Feng before. He said that true death is not the dissipation of the soul, but being forgotten by everyone. As long as there are still people who remember them, they have not truly died."

Su Chen fell silent, then picked up the soup bowl and drank it down, sip by sip. The soup was hot, flowing from his throat to his stomach, spreading warmth throughout his body. He stood up, walked to the window, opened it, and looked at the twinkling stars in the night sky.

"Commander Zhao Feng, Lord Lin Mo, Lady Qian Renxue." (End of Chapter)