Chapter 48:The Photograph

The City That Never Sleeps.
Its prosperity stretched as far as the eye could see; a glance revealed a sea of brilliant lights and a tide of clamor.

Sheffield stood on high, overlooking the city where he once lived, yet his gaze gradually dimmed.
There was no nostalgia for his hometown in his heart, nor any desire to trace the memories of his friends.
But his heart was trembling slightly.
A lonely silence surged forth like a tide, stirring up those dust-covered memories.

He swallowed, his movements hesitating for a moment, before finally pulling a small wooden frame from his coat pocket.

A photograph was set within the frame, its yellowed edges speaking of the passage of time.
The background of the photo was a field of lush green grass.
A towering banyan tree stood in its midst, and in the distance, a clear stream gurgled.

There were three figures in the picture: a girl with a pure and brilliant smile, and a pure-white Samoyed dog, its tongue lolling out in an angelic, adorable smile—a spirited expression unique to the breed.
And there was a young man, standing quietly behind the girl and the Samoyed.

On the day that picture was taken.

The girl had wrapped her arms around the Samoyed’s fluffy neck, excitedly shouting for the boy to join them.
But the boy refused, with a touch of bashful shyness, unwilling to make too intimate a gesture. He simply stood behind them, quietly placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder.
He never liked having his picture taken. The only pose he ever struck was a stiff peace sign, and his face rarely showed a natural smile. Eventually, he simply gave up the pretense and remained expressionless.
But whenever he was with the girl before him, the corners of his mouth would always turn up unconsciously, sketching a sincere smile.

“Hey, honestly, what’s there to be shy about!”
“Alright, let’s just take it like this! One—two—cheese!”

The girl’s voice from that time seemed to echo in his ears even now.
Sheffield extended a finger, gently stroking the girl’s figure in the photograph. She wore a lace-trimmed straw hat and a cool white dress, with a pair of wooden sandals on her feet. Her smile was tranquil and beautiful, like a flower in full bloom.

Speaking of flowers, she loved cherry blossoms the most.
She loved the romance of a spring breeze sweeping by, a thousand branches and leaves dancing in the air, pink petals scattering like snow.

The small city where she lived had no cherry trees, but she had often heard of a distant country famed for them and always yearned to see them with her own eyes one day.

For her sake, Sheffield had silently saved every penny, secretly vowing to take her to see that sea of flowers from her dreams.

But now, all of it had become an extravagant hope.

Apart from incorporating the imagery of cherry blossoms into his sword techniques to commemorate her existence, there was nothing left for him to grasp.
That year, disaster struck without warning.

The Bloodkin, invaders from another world, launched a surprise attack on their small city. Before the remote, peripheral city could even react, it was swallowed by chaos and despair.
While the people in the major cities were still oblivious, the border town had already become a living hell. The government swiftly blockaded the news, curbed the spread of information, and dispatched the Extermination Army to fight in the shadows of this world.

But they arrived too late.

In that disaster, the girl in the photograph ultimately did not survive.
“Xiao Qian…”

Sheffield murmured her name, the pain of losing his childhood friend sweeping over him like a knife’s edge, tearing his heart apart.

After a moment, Sheffield placed the photo back into its wooden frame, stuffed it into his pocket, and zipped it tightly shut.

It wasn’t enough.

This borrowed power of his was still far from enough.
As he was now, facing the Seraphim Legion, not only would he be unable to get revenge, he would be utterly crushed.

Clinging to the Seraphim Legion as he was now, he knew this very well.
To fight the Bloodkin’s Second Legion alone? It was simply a fantasy.

But he had a reason he absolutely had to do it.

Sheffield slowly stood up, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He forced a smile, concealing the pain in his heart.

“Tonight’s battle, who lives and who dies, has long been irrelevant to me.”
He muttered to himself, his voice cold and hard, yet tinged with a hint of decisiveness: “I no longer want to fight to protect anything. I have already lost everything I could have protected… I have nothing left.”

“For the greater good, someone always has to pay the price.”
“Let the Rose Legion and Tantan City… perish together.”