116 Exhausted, Three Waves of People

The Naval Cemetery was filled with countless graves, yet it lacked the gloom and horror one might imagine. Instead, there was only light and righteousness.

On a small hillside stood a brand-new burial ground, which had appeared just a few days ago.

At this moment, in front of a grave, a disheveled vagrant with a broken right arm and a face covered in stubble leaned against the tombstone, gulping down bottle after bottle of alcohol.

His eyes had already lost their focus, his expression numb, almost lifeless. The only instinct left was to keep drinking.

He sought to numb himself, for only in this way could he atone for the mistakes he had made.

Unconsciously, tears began to wet his desensitized cheeks.

His face flushed red; unable to resist, a burning heat surged through his throat, as if set ablaze, causing the liquor to spill onto the ground.

Suddenly, as if a dam had burst, tears poured down like rain. The large man collapsed to the earth, wailing uncontrollably.

“Why... why...” His head pounded heavily against the soil, tears streaming down his face. His remaining left hand pounded the ground repeatedly, while his heart-wrenching cries begged for solace.

“It’s all my fault, all my fault... I was not a good master, not a good husband, nor a good father...”

Burying his head deep in the dirt, the man sobbed with a pain that tore at his very soul. “Why does someone like me still live? Why don’t I just die? Why don’t I just die...”

His heart twisted in agony. Across the entire cemetery, only his desperate cries echoed.

Footsteps sounded softly, gradually halting before the man. Watching the crushing grief before him, a figure knelt heavily, veins bulging in his hands.

Pale-faced and unable to contain his tears, Xuan Ye still could not believe it: his beloved master's wife, his revered little star, were truly gone.

His heart spasmed, the pain unbearable. Gazing at the gentle smile carved into the tombstone—the innocent smile—Xuan Ye could no longer hold back. He fell forward, hands braced on the ground as tears streamed down relentlessly.

The pain was as if his heart were being ripped out and his bones picked apart. The despair, the hatred, left his mind utterly blank.

“I refuse to believe this is real. I refuse...” he cried out, lifting his head in a desperate roar, like a tormented ghost. Yet reality offered no escape; he was forced to accept it.

Perhaps hearing Xuan Ye’s sobs, the man who had been collapsed on the ground lifted his head. His gaze fell upon a figure long vanished.

“Haha... I dreamed again...” His eyes remained devoid of light; he told himself it was all a dream, for his disciple had died a year ago.

Dead. All of them were dead—disciple, wife, son, students—all vanished—yet he himself still clung to life.

“Ye, I’m sorry. I failed to protect you, your master’s wife, your junior brother. It’s all the master’s fault. Are you blaming me? Is that why you came back to see me...?”

“Don’t worry, soon the master will join you all!” The man’s face was bleak, despair taking root. Perhaps death was the only way out for him now.

He could no longer endure it. His heart was dead, shattered. What remained was merely a soulless corpse.

“I’m back, Master!” Xuan Ye’s eyes were bloodshot, tears streaming endlessly. His hair was disheveled from the hurried journey, leaving him a bit bedraggled.

“I know, my dearest disciple has returned. If you blame the master, then blame me!” Ze Fa still could not believe it, his heart bleeding. He thought it was all a dream.

“Ye, you know? Your master’s wife and junior brother died before my eyes, and I was powerless. When you died, I couldn’t even see you one last time. It’s all my fault. I don’t even know why I’m still alive...”

“What should I do? What should I do...” Ze Fa sobbed helplessly, his pain tearing at his very soul.

“I shouldn’t be alive anymore.” Suddenly, Ze Fa’s expression hardened. He raised his left hand—now blackened—and struck his own head fiercely.

Clearly, he intended to end his own life.

“Bang!” Xuan Ye rushed forward, tears streaming down his face, gripping Ze Fa’s left hand tightly. A smile appeared in the midst of disbelief. “Master, I’m still alive. You still have me.”

“Ye... impossible, this can’t be. You’re dead... you are...” Ze Fa’s dim gaze gradually brightened. He widened his eyes and nervously reached out his only left hand to Xuan Ye’s face, fearing it was but a dream.

The touch was moist, yet warm. At that moment, Ze Fa’s eyes shone brighter and brighter.

“Alive... you’re still alive...” Overcome with joy, he embraced Xuan Ye tightly. Ze Fa wept with a heart-wrenching sorrow as if still dreaming.

“Yes, I’m still alive, still alive.” Holding Ze Fa just as tightly, the two clung to each other and cried.

After several dozen minutes, the two finally grew quiet before the grave.

“Master, tell me—who killed your wife and junior brother? Even if I must travel to the ends of the earth, I will tear that person to pieces.” Xuan Ye’s face was filled with hatred; he was eager for vengeance.

“Edward Weibel.” Ze Fa’s voice was equally hateful as he uttered the name.

“Edward?” Xuan Ye’s face darkened, his heart sinking. Yet no matter what, he would not abandon his quest for revenge.

“What is Edward Weibel’s connection to Edward Newgate?” Xuan Ye’s eyes burned with murderous intent. Few may know Edward Newgate by that full name, but no one failed to recognize his other name.

Whitebeard—the strongest of the Four Emperors in the New World, hailed as the mightiest man on the seas.

“He claims to be Whitebeard’s son. Their features resemble each other by fifty or sixty percent, and he wields a similar weapon—a young sword.”

“Fifty or sixty percent is enough to confirm it. I don’t care if he’s truly related to Whitebeard or not, I won’t let him escape!” Xuan Ye’s face twisted with rage. At this point, he no longer cared about reason or restraint. Even if he was ruthless and extreme, he would not let Whitebeard go.

“Master, even Whitebeard wouldn’t have left you alive. So why did your wife and junior brother...” Xuan Ye’s voice trailed off, the question burning in his mind. Ze Fa’s strength, while not on par with Whitebeard’s, should have been enough to fight back. Besides, their assailant was a relatively unknown pirate.

“At that time, my strength was only at the fourth level!” Ze Fa’s voice was heavy with regret.

“What exactly happened?” Xuan Ye’s face darkened.

“I was poisoned,” Ze Fa said, clenching his fists tightly, eyes red.

“Poisoned!” A cold light flashed in Xuan Ye’s eyes. “Master, are you saying someone poisoned the food on the warship?”

It was known that even when setting out, Ze Fa traveled with the third generation of naval cadets, allowing them to gain experience. In other words, the warship housed not only Ze Fa’s family but also thirty or forty new recruits.

“Yes!” Ze Fa nodded, “but they all died. Only the four of us survived.”

“Four?”

“Myself, Xiao Jin, Ain, and Binz. They’re still unconscious now.”

“Who are they?”

“My students,” Ze Fa stated firmly. “It couldn’t have been them, because if it weren’t for their desperate fighting during the battle, Xiao Jin and I might have already died.”

“By the way, my arm...” Ze Fa reached to feel the half-lost limb, gritting his teeth. “The culprit wasn’t just one person.”

“Master, you mean besides Edward Weibel, there’s another?”

“Yes, though I don’t know who. I only sensed a thread before my right hand lost all feeling.”

“A thread!” Xuan Ye’s eyes widened in fury. “The debts from the Sabaody Archipelago haven’t been settled yet, and yet he dares to show his face. Looks like he’s had enough of living.”

...