Lin Mu blinked. "A hundred years?"
"Yes," Lin Mo confirmed. "Barely a droplet in your ocean of time, but still, that was the true price. The heavens took a century from your thread of fate in exchange for what you summoned. They always take their due, even if the loss seems small to you."
Lin Mu stood there quietly, his eyes reflecting thought.
A hundred years… in the grand span of his life, it was nothing. But the principle behind it unsettled him. It was still longer than the entire time he had been alive after all.
The heavens did not forgive, nor did they forget. Even the smallest defiance was recorded, balanced in ways mortals could not comprehend.
"I see," Lin Mu finally said. "So that was the price."
Lin Mo nodded. "Yes. And remember, the sword spirit itself is resting too. It may take time before it awakens again. When it does, you'll feel it."
Lin Mu looked thoughtful. "And if it never wakes?"
