Chapter 81: She Severed the Thread Herself
A yellowed photo album, a glimpse of a quiet, ordinary past.
After so many years, the four of them, who had once lived in this small house, were reunited.
And as if by instinct, they found themselves sitting at the small dining table, their heads bowed in silence.
“Let’s eat,” Leticia said, picking up her bowl.
Bai and Ara also began to eat.
Isabelle, though still a bit confused, also picked up her chopsticks, her movements almost habitual.
They were all filled with questions, yet in the clatter of bowls and chopsticks, there was a strange, silent peace.
After a short, silent meal, the questions returned.
The atmosphere was a bit awkward, but to everyone’s surprise, it was Isabelle who spoke first.
“Th-thank you… the food… was delicious,” she said, her head slightly raised, her expression not that of the shadowy ruler of the Abyss, but of the timid, shy Isabelle Bai had first met.
Perhaps the familiar scene had triggered a memory, a rare glimpse of her past self.
Bai, seeing this, said nothing, her head bowed.
Ara, with her ability to see souls, knew what was happening. She muttered “bad woman” under her breath, then looked at Leticia with curiosity.
“Are you Grandma Leticia’s daughter or granddaughter? The food tastes the same… but you’re so much younger…”
Leticia paused, then sighed. “Am I? I am the Grandma Leticia you speak of, but I don’t remember you…”
She must have seen her in her disguised form.
But she had no memory of ever cooking for Ara.
Yet this scene felt so… familiar. It was a strange, unsettling feeling, and she looked at Bai, at the mysterious silver-haired girl with her unique, captivating beauty.
And as she looked at her, she felt an overwhelming urge to cry.
“You are…” she murmured, her voice filled with a dazed confusion.
“My name is Bai. But that name no longer has any meaning, not for you, not for me, not for Isabelle,” Bai said, her bright, dark-gold eyes piercing through Leticia. “No matter what, to sever the threads of fate that connect us is for the best.”
“The threads of fate…”
Leticia felt something stirring in her mind, a memory on the verge of surfacing, but it was being suppressed.
She looked at Bai, and the image of a small, resolute figure, her expression determined, began to form in her mind.
“Why… does it have to end?”
She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind, to push away the strange, unsettling thoughts.
“This is not a question that can be asked, or answered. It just… has to be,” Bai said, her voice low. If she could, she would never have let go of these precious memories, of this past.
But the threads of fate were a strange, tangled thing.
Leticia had urged Lin Yan to let go of her memories of Bai, of their past.
But she herself, deep down, had been holding on, refusing to let go.
She didn’t know it, but her happiest moments had been with Bai and Ara, before the Imperial Festival.
A time when she didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.
A time when she could just… be, watching over her beloved juniors, supporting them from the shadows.
It was a small, simple happiness, but it was now impossible.
And with the sealing ritual, that small happiness was now incomplete, a missing piece that could never be replaced.
“Lady Leticia, I’m sorry, but please… let go,” Bai said, holding out a ring.
Leticia recognized it. It was the storage ring she had received from the Imperial treasury, when she had been a Legendary Knight.
Back then, before they had acquired the legacy of Vikarn, such devices, with their miniature pocket dimensions, had been incredibly rare, priceless.
But now, with the advancement of their technology, though still valuable, they were no longer so.
And as she looked at the ring, a flood of memories returned, and her gaze on Bai softened, filled with a deep sadness.
“Little Bai, why… must you do this…?”
“This is my fate, an unavoidable destiny, and also, my own choice,” Bai said, handing her the ring.
“Today’s meal was delicious. It tasted exactly the same as in the past. Even if I can never taste it again, I will always remember.”
“But as for me, Lady Leticia… it’s better to forget. Without me, everything will continue.”
Leticia was silent. She took the ring and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped it onto her finger.
“I know. I’ve always known,” she said softly, her fingers tracing the ring.
“So—”
The small house was still the same, but the people, and the circumstances, had changed.
“It’s time to end it.”
With that, a wave of power seemed to ripple through the heavens, descending upon the capital.
In Heroes’ Rest, two solemn, ornate cenotaphs silently vanished.
And in the stories of the North Empire, the number of heroes was reduced from five to four.
The legend of Vikarn no longer contained an unnamed hero. The only memory that remained was of Lilia, who had single-handedly brought back the legacy of Vikarn, and the great battle of the Legendary Knights.
Whether it was Bai, or Xu Bai, or anything related to her, in that moment, she was completely, and irrevocably, severed from the North Empire.
She had severed the thread herself.
