His hair was the blackness and sheen of fine lacquer, swaying with each definitive step over the pathway’s smooth stone.

The swordsman moved forwards without direction, scarlet gaze scanning the Exalting Sanctum with an unwavering apathy for what he saw: children ran about with paper kites, their blithe laughter echoing through the open space and mingling with the distant shouts of stall owners who were hawking their wares.

This inconsequential life continued onwards as, begrudgingly, did vengeful he.

When someone’s voice called that name, he didn’t initially respond.

It’d been many lifetimes, since he’d claimed the name ‘Yingxing’ as his own; like the memories he had once possessed as a transient life entity, his attachment to it had eroded with time. Every excruciating death had been a fate accompli, and now nothing remained of what had once been.

Whoever was calling for Blade’s attention was…persistent. He didn’t doubt his own ability to flee the Cloud Knights who’d come running, if they caught wind of his presence on the Luofu, but such hassle was an unnecessary ordeal.

Slowing his stride to a halt, the Stellaron Hunter allowed this unforeseen pursuer to catch up with him. A disinterested glance was cast over his shoulder: “…What do you want?”

As expected, he was unable to summon an iota of recognition, feeling nothing but utter indifference.