Above The Sky
Chapter 129 - 129 121 What Are You Waiting For

129: Chapter 121 What Are You Waiting For?

(4/4, thanks to the alliance master of Liuli-colored Memories!) 129: Chapter 121 What Are You Waiting For?

(4/4, thanks to the alliance master of Liuli-colored Memories!) The torrential rains poured down.

Step by step, the one-armed knight in black armor pursued the marks and arrived at the flat top of Sigh Cliff, shrouded in clouds and mist.

He took a deep breath, then stepped forward.

The fog dissipated under the overflowing Source Quality Fluctuation, revealing the truth hidden behind the moisture and the howling wind.

Both, the white-haired boy and the gray-haired old man, appeared before his eyes.

Weyges gazed at the scene.

The air was filled with the thick scent of damp ocean wind, with clouds falling from the sky, and dark, rolling clouds in all directions.

Atop Sigh Cliff, when looking around, one could only see somber, dense fog, as if one had stepped into another world.

He liked rainy days.

The simple, crisp sound of raindrops hitting the earth was enough to clear away all the gloom in the world.

He enjoyed watching rain clouds cover the sun and then a ray of light leaking through the gaps, a ray that was the redemption in this dark world, the meaning of his existence.

But that light was always fleeting.

The wind swept across the earth, and the clouds changed with it.

The light would extinguish, fall, and fade away.

The tumultuous dark clouds brought suffocating rains, and the once loved rainy days became torture.

The noisy sound filled his ears, preventing him from hearing any sound he wished to hear.

So he would instead smile, silently smiling at the rain.

Until the sun set, and darkness enveloped everything.

Dark clouds and fog spread as the knight stood amidst the tumbling walls of mist, his intact left hand gripping a slightly bent half-sword, black, disheveled hair clinging tightly to his cheeks and neck.

His expression seemed to be smiling, but it was so complex that it was impossible to discern any particular emotion.

“Hand over the Former Emperor’s legacy to me.”

After taking a deep breath, Weyges thought he would mock or say some grandiose lines, just like the characters in all those knight novels.

But when he saw that aged figure, all desire vanished.

He was overwhelmed by a complex emotion that made him want to end it all quickly, “I have already learned the truth.

Hand over the legacy to me, do whatever you want after that.

The old fellow won’t live much longer, and I can’t be bothered to deal with you, kid.”

Hiliard did not speak, while Ian stood in front of his teacher.

He was holding Hiliard’s Blunt Greatsword in his hands, and with the power of the First Energy Level, he could wield it with ease.

“Step aside, I don’t want to kill you right now.”

Looking at the boy of the White Folks before him, his youthful yet elven-like exquisite face, Weyges forcibly suppressed his irritation and impatience, “A young prophet…

don’t you know that stepping aside now is the best choice?”

“Or do you want your younger brother to be without an older brother?”

The knight thought his words would surprise Ian.

But to his surprise, the calm White Folks boy smiled in response, “Oh?

You think leaving an Apprentice without a teacher is a good choice?”

Weyges couldn’t answer that question.

All he could do was take a step forward, letting his silence serve as intimidation.

Yet, Ian continued, “I understand you very well, my half-brother in apprenticeship…

It’s not actually because of your relationship with the teacher, which led to the disdain from your peers and the estrangement from your superiors, that you hate him.

Rather, you don’t mind it at all.

You take pride in it, proud that someone associates you with him.”

“What you truly hate is the fact that you didn’t die…

Haha, everyone related to the teacher is dead.

My other brothers and sisters in apprenticeship, everyone he was close to, that he had taught, that he helped, that he reached out to—they’re all dead.”

“Only you are alive—because your only connection to the teacher was very, very early on, only in the early years, with no further ties beyond that.”

“That’s why you hate.”

The knight in black armor suddenly stood still, motionless.

Even Hiliard raised his head in surprise, looking first at Ian, then at Weyges.

And Ian’s words, calm yet seeming to split open one’s heart, continued to resonate, “Why am I still alive?

When will I truly, gloriously die, instead of living on like this?”

“Why has the mentor always remained silent, never appearing?

Does he not know that his appearance would surely spur others to continue following him, willing to die for his dream?”

“Everyone belittles the Former Emperor and the teacher, only one stubborn person refuses to believe all the words of later generations.

Such sad and admirable persistence, accumulated over ten years, twenty years, thirty years…

it eventually turned from anticipation to confusion, from confusion to disappointment, from disappointment to hatred.”

Ian met Weyges’ listless dark green eyes and spoke in a faint tone, even with a hint of a smile, “What kind of responsibility is the teacher bearing?

Why won’t he utter a word, tell no one?

Does he intend to take his secrets to the grave?”

“Does he really believe…

that there isn’t even a single person he can trust?”

“Does he truly think that no one is worthy of inheriting his dream, to take revenge on this dark and filthy world?”

The knight in black armor stood in a daze, his whole body shaking, and then, as if finally reacting, he let out a feral roar.

“Shut up!”

The enraged man took a step forward, swinging his twisted half-sword that had been distorted in thousands of collisions, aiming to smash it down on the White Folk boy — but the other party was fearless, striking a deft upward sweep from below with his sword, hitting the point of force on the longsword, then immediately disengaging and flicking it aside.

Just as not long ago, he had launched numerous attacks, but had been repelled time after time.

“The teacher is dying, why would he rather die than tell the truth?

Am I truly not worthy?”

And amidst the clashing swords, Ian’s voice still carried on the broken wind with a chilling implication, “If that’s the case… then let me do it.”

“I’ll kill the teacher, to free him from this sorrowful mission.”

“I’ll destroy this country, to avenge all the past that has perished.”

“If possible, I’ll inherit the teacher’s dream — or die by his hand.”

“What do you know… about anything!”

Weyges’ dark green eyes were nearly filled with blood, and he gnashed his teeth in the desire to attack again— the last strike wasn’t forceful, just meant to shut Ian up.

But now, he had made up his mind to silence this sharp-tongued apprentice, inexplicably able to inherit Hiliard’s mantle, for good!

However, just as Weyges raised his longsword high.

Ian tossed his Abyssal Iron Greatsword to the ground.

At this moment, the knight in black armor heard the White Folk boy’s mocking laughter.

“I’m waiting for the lightning.”

The boy who had undergone a complete compulsory education scoffed, “What are you waiting for?”

Boom!

A thunderclap resonated, lightning streaking across the night sky and the pitch-black crest of Sigh Cliff.

At the very moment Weyges’ heart sounded an alarm, the fierce wrath of the pale firmament descended from the heavens within reach!

Its light reached from the clouds to the cliff walls, making the whole world starkly black and white.

And the target of this lightning was, of course, the only one clad in the iron armor, holding aloft a metal longsword—

Weyges’ figure was engulfed by lightning in an instant!