The God of Death's colossal eye softened slightly as it regarded Yun Lintian.
"You carry the fate of all existence on your shoulders alone," the ancient voice rumbled, not with pity, but with quiet understanding. "Even among us Primordial Gods, none bore such weight."
Yun Lintian remained silent. The admission should have crushed him, but strangely—he felt only resolve.
The eye continued, its tone unexpectedly gentle:
"But remember this, Yun Lintian—failure is not something to fear. If you fall after giving your all, there will be no regret. That in itself is a form of victory."
A warmth bloomed in Yun Lintian's chest. How ironic—that the God of Death, of all beings, would be the first to tell him the outcome didn't matter.
"I'll try my best," Yun Lintian said simply. No grand vows, no flowery words—just the unshakable truth of his heart.
The eye pulsed approvingly.
