hotmtlnovel Chapter 88 THE SIXTH REALM
Chapter 88 THE SIXTH REALM
Li Hua finally put away her daggers, standing up and stepping back from the crater her attack had created. Old Xiao rose gracefully, dirt falling from his robes as he straightened to his full height. Her brothers instinctively adjusted their postures, recognizing that they might be in the presence of someone significant. "What do we call you?" she asked, her voice carrying a new note of cautious respect.
"I am Old Xiao," he said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "One of the seven keepers who oversee the hidden paths between realms." His robes rustled softly as he brushed off the remaining dirt from their earlier confrontation. "Our Master entered closed-door cultivation five years ago, leaving Old Tang as his second in command. Old Tang will need to approve your training personally—it's not a decision I can make alone."
His fingers traced complex patterns in the air as he spoke, each gesture seeming to bend the light around them. "The sixth realm isn't like the others. We exist in the spaces between, walking paths that even immortals have forgotten. Our hierarchy is... unique. Seven Keepers, each overseeing different aspects of the realm..."
Li Wei and Li Hao listened intently, their scholarly and practical minds catching different implications of this revelation. Meanwhile, Li Hua's eyes narrowed at the mention of secret techniques, her instincts telling her there was more to this than Old Xiao was revealing.
"And now that our parents have been taken?" Li Hua's gaze sharpened as she studied him, her eyes carrying the weight of careful assessment.
"We leave. Our interest was purely in your father's array and your mother's unique nature. The politics of the five realms are not our concern." Old Xiao's expression darkened. "Though I suspect our Master would be very interested in meeting you three, once he emerges from his cultivation."
Li Hao's hand found her shoulder, gentle but firm. "Let's trust in this path, sister." The words carried more weight than their simplicity suggested—a plea for hope in a world that had just shattered around them.
She turned to look at her brothers and saw her own pain mirrored in their eyes—the same guilt for not being strong enough, the same anger at their powerlessness, the same desperate hope that somehow they could make this right. The weight of their shared loss almost brought her to her knees.
She watched as her brothers and Old Xiao walked toward the remaining cultivators. Master Chen, Wang Da, and their followers had already departed when they were in mid conversation.
Before they disappeared into the dimensional fold, her brothers turned back one final time, their eyes softening as they mouthed, "See you soon." Then they were gone.
The battlefield lay scarred around her—craters marking the earth, blood staining the frost-covered ground. The remaining cultivators had already collected their fallen comrades, leaving only the lingering traces of spiritual essence to mark where the devastating battle had taken place.
She made her way to their courtyard, each step heavier than the last. The emptiness hit her like a physical blow—the absence of life where there had always been so much. Her father's array still hummed around their home, strong and protective, the last gift from the man who had sacrificed everything to keep them safe.
Her parents were still alive, she reminded herself fiercely, biting back the tears that threatened to fall. This wasn't the time for crying. This wasn't the time for—
But as she walked through the courtyard, memories played before her like ghostly reflections in morning mist. There was her mother's shadow at the wooden dining table, carefully sorting herbs while humming beautiful melodies. There was her father, laughing as he swung a chubby Li Hao through the air, while Li Wei shook his head in disapproval that couldn't quite hide his smile. Every corner held another memory: family meals under the stars, cultivation lessons that turned into playful competitions, quiet evenings listening to their parents' lessons and stories.
Thirteen years of love and protection, of carefully crafted normalcy, of sacrifice she was only now beginning to understand. The weight of it all crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her knees hit the ground as the tears finally broke free, each sob carrying the force of a storm long held at bay. She cried for her parents' sacrifice, for her brothers' pain, for the peaceful life that had shattered around them. She cried until her throat was raw and her eyes burned, until the morning mist had burned away and only silence remained.
Finally, she lifted her head, tears still tracking down her cheeks but something harder settling in her chest. Ten years, she had promised. Ten years to become strong enough to face whatever waited in the celestial plains. She would not waste a single day.