The appearance of the Heavenly Demon Emperor surprised everyone present.
The Shu Mountain Immortal Sword Sect demon slaying and Demonic Aura identification before learning swordsmanship and internal energy cultivation. They carry the "Demon Subjugation Scroll" to record the habits and characteristics of every demon they encounter, and also record the Demonic Aura of rare demons. Every time they return to Shushan, they verify the records with their fellow disciples. The complete manual in the "Demon Subduing Hall" is updated almost every month.
The energy he cultivated was also designed to target and suppress every Demonic Aura of demonic energy recorded in the complete manual.
In this situation, every disciple of Mount Shu is an expert in exterminating demons.
Each elite disciple possesses spiritual power equivalent to the purest Demon Transformation Water.
In this situation.
Putting aside the fact that a demon intervened to save the Shu Mountain Sect, it's like a mouse becoming a bride for a cat.
The [Big Dipper Demon Subduing Array], which is currently on the verge of collapse in the face of the wave of evil spirits, might be able to regain its momentum and Kamui power if the target were the same number of demons, and even reverse the downward trend.
Even the still rotating Five Elements Formation is more targeted at demons because the people in charge of the formation are from Mount Shu.
In gaming terms, this translates to: +100 to Evil Breaking; +1000 to Demon-Specific Attack.
However, the Heavenly Demon Emperor, who was clearly weaker than the Evil Sword Immortal, seemed to be completely unaffected, and his Demonic Aura was as graceful as that of an immortal.
Beasts can indeed become immortals, but their aura is also Sage Aura.
This demonic Demonic Aura, so pure and imbued with a sense of holiness, was something none of the Shu Mountain people present had ever seen before.
Even the demonic Demonic Aura containing the essence of the great sun that Heyang collected from a sunflower spirit he encountered fifty years ago in a small town—a spirit that had never killed—could not compare to this.
However, the Evil Demon Evil Sword Immortal, who was both a disciple of the Shu Mountain sect and a demon, was even more horrified.
His Evil Qi also inherited the Shushan disciples' restraint towards demons.
However, what he valued was not the demonic energy that, like the azure clouds, countered his Evil Qi Demonic Aura.
It is not with the Heavenly Demon Emperor either.
Instead, it was a sword shadow flashing with an eerie purple light in the eyes of the Heavenly Demon Emperor.
The moment he saw it, he felt as if he had fallen into an ancient battlefield, where every soldier possessed terrifying spiritual power, and he was one of them, on the disadvantaged side, his spiritual power depleted, his body covered in wounds, and he also had to deal with four or five enemy soldiers at the same time.
He seemed to have died a hundred times in those encounters: beheading, heart gouging, chest piercing, limb severing, waist cutting, abdomen stabbing, throat slitting, trampling, suffocation, falling from horseback, and being riddled with arrows.
When he awoke, his evil dragon body was so frightened that its scales were bulging, each scale resembling the fur of a cat when it is overly agitated.
"This sword."
He was reminded of the Demonic Sword at the top of the Demon Locking Tower when he was still inside it.
But that sword was an unfinished sword, a sword of the ghost path, and its spiritual power was used by the ghosts within it.
"You can see?" The Heavenly Demon Emperor's voice suddenly became ethereal, as if it came from a very distant place.
The sword shadow floating deep within his pupils was devouring the surrounding light, turning the entire demonic cloud into a bronze rust color.
"This is just a sword technique called 'The Fall of a Nation,' created by a man who is forever trapped in the illusion of a fallen kingdom. It is the last trace he left in this world."
His voice suddenly changed, becoming hoarse and desolate, as if another person was speaking through his mouth.
The sword shadow in his pupils became increasingly solid, as if it were about to step out of his eyes.
"Kill!"
A hoarse voice came from somewhere. Suddenly, the emerald green demonic clouds churned, as if torn apart by some invisible force.
From the clouds, a phantom slowly emerged—a man clad in tattered armor, his body riddled with arrows, holding a red-tasseled spear in his hand, the tip of which dripped blood.
His face was blurred, as if shrouded in a thin mist, but his eyes were cold as ice and sharp as swords.
The evil dragon was tens of thousands of times larger than him, but he still rode forward on his horse.
Compared to the Starlight of the Demon-Subduing Formation, which was already as faint as a candle in the wind, the phantom of the Dharma Wheel spanning the sky above Mount Shu, and the demonic clouds that permeated the seventy-two peaks, they were all extremely small.
But he has such a charm that it seems as if he is the only one left in the whole world.
No one could tear their gaze away from this illusion, as if they had lived their entire lives from birth to this moment solely to witness it, rendering everything else in their lives meaningless.
Even the evil dragon that the Evil Sword Immortal transformed into was the same.
The man leaped high into the air, his spear piercing the evil dragon's eye.
At the same time
The sword shadow in the Heavenly Demon Emperor's eyes had disappeared, replaced by a doorway.
A blue-clad man, seemingly the embodiment of perfection, emerged carrying a girl in a blue ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress).
The girl subconsciously looked up at the phantom, "Brother?"
The phantom turned around, and its face, hidden in the thin mist, became clear for a moment—it was exactly the same as the man in blue.
His lips moved, but no sound came out, as if he were saying something no one could understand.
"My eyes!"
The Evil Sword Immortal finally awoke.
"Snap—"
With a crisp sound, the evil dragon's body began to crack, peeling off piece by piece like porcelain.
The Evil Sword Immortal's roar shattered the clouds, and the dragon's body twisted in the void, as if enduring some indescribable pain.
The Heavenly Demon Emperor stood still, the portal in his eyes had disappeared, and only three people remained in front of him: a monkey and a beast.
The demonic clouds also dispersed.
The Heavenly Demon Emperor reluctantly grasped a wisp of green smoke, "My [Shennong's Spiritual Power]."
"You... you all!" The body of the evil dragon that had vanished was replaced by a figure dressed in a black imperial robe.
Thick, oil-like black blood was gushing from his right eye, which he was covering with one hand.
But that face didn't match any of the Shu Mountain Five Elders.
That face was as ancient and rugged as a rock, its forehead as broad as the sky, with a hidden Jin Guang flowing around it, as if it contained endless secrets of heaven.
His black hair and beard were studded with silver strands, like Dotty in the night sky, and were meticulously groomed, revealing the weight of time.
His nose was like a hanging gall bladder, his lips held a cold and stern expression, and although his figure was not imposing, it was as majestic and unshakable as a mountain.
It was as if he stood there, at the very center of the world.
"Qing Leng, I didn't lose, I didn't!"
The Evil Sword Immortal seemed unaware of his own changes, his eyes only showing Qing Leng.
It wasn't Jing Tian who blinded his right eye, but the Heavenly Demon Emperor who used his pupils as a medium to cause all of this.
"Heavenly Emperor!" Qing Wei disregarded his embarrassment; he recognized the face.
Fuxi, the first of the Three Sovereigns, the master of the Six Realms, the progenitor of humankind, the king of gods, and the origin of all things.
A portrait of Fuxi hangs in the Hall of the Three Sovereigns.
"Heavenly Emperor!" Cang Gu, Qing Leng, and the others also showed surprise.
Xu Changqing: Maybe I should just die and go see Zi Tong.
Having learned the secrets of the Three Sovereigns, the origins of humans, demons, gods, and monsters, and having met the real gods and demons, he had already guessed what was going on when he saw this situation.
Ordinary gods are just afraid of death, that's one thing.
The ruler of the Six Realms, the god among gods, is actually the mastermind behind everything.
In contrast to the Demon Lord, who was clearly compassionate and kind to his subordinates, but ruthless yet not cruel to outsiders.
He thought: Maybe I should just become a demon. The demon realm seems like a good place.
"Qing Leng, you admit defeat? You admit defeat?" The Evil Sword Immortal laughed wildly, no longer caring about his bleeding right eye, letting the black blood stain his teeth black.
"Brother, what are you doing?" Long Kui finally came to her senses and found that Jing Tian was pointing a crystal at the sky.
"Let's take a picture. Fuxi is too busy to deal with this right now," Jing Tian said.
The realm of gods.
Tianchi Lake hangs upside down from the top of the ninth heaven, its waters a frozen galaxy.
Fuxi walked barefoot on the shimmering waves, his black robe trailing behind him where stars twinkled—he was originally the essence of Pangu, and even his shadow was imbued with the vastness of the beginning of chaos.
At this moment, the Heavenly Pool reflects the figure of Demon Lord Chonglou: that dark red demonic figure is drawing spiritual energy from the Nine Springs within the Dragon Pool.
"To capture traces of the other eight springs through the Stream of Memory [Suhe]? A clever approach," Fuxi said calmly.
[Hot Sea] The spiritual power surges like lava, bringing spring to withered trees and turning yellow sand into rain wherever it passes.
An endless desert appeared in the void, but it transformed into an oasis amidst the surge of spiritual energy. Every drop of the hot sea spiritual liquid contained boundless vitality, and upon landing, a blue lotus would bloom, with crimson flames leaping in its heart.
[Pure] Spiritual energy descends like silver threads, weaving into a giant spider web.
Countless fragments of the future emerge in the network: there are mountains and rivers collapsing, stars falling, and mortals brushing past each other on a street corner.
[Cold Marrow] Spiritual energy condensed into a Tongtian tree, with glistening white fruits hanging from its branches.
Each fruit reflects the life and death of living beings: some are in full bloom, while others have already withered. Countless icicles extend from the tree roots, piercing the void and shattering the boundary between life and death.
[Mist Soul] transformed into pale purple sands of time, forming a vortex in the void.
The flow of time at the center of the vortex fluctuates wildly: the vegetation on the periphery withers and flourishes in an instant, while at the center it seems to freeze. Occasionally, grains of sand are splashed out, tearing cracks in spacetime and revealing fragments of the past or future.
[Dragon Pool] The spiritual energy pours down like a waterfall, and every drop of water reflects the memory of a certain living being.
At the base of the waterfall, a mirror-like lake has formed, reflecting the past of countless spellcasters forgotten by heaven and earth.
[Zhaodan] The spiritual energy is pure gold, as sharp as sword light.
Wherever the light shines, nothing can hide: the virtuous are completely clear, while the wicked are shrouded in darkness. Spiritual energy converges into a mirror, reflecting not appearances, but the essence of the soul.
[Flame Wave] The spiritual power exploded like the blazing sun, and the phantom of a giant bronze plow appeared in the flames.
Wherever the spiritual energy passed, even the void was scorched. Occasionally, the sounds of ancient people's sacrifices could be heard from the heart of the flame, as if the Soul of the Sun was whispering.
[Chunzi] The spiritual power falls like spring rain, nourishing the roots of the divine tree.
The dragon of Turbid Qi surged amidst the pure energy, its scales peeling away to sprout tender buds. Each new leaf radiated purifying power, transforming chaos into order.
[Poisonous Miasma] The spiritual power spreads like miasma, causing vegetation to wither wherever it passes.
Thousands of illusory poisonous insects appeared from the spiritual energy, only to transform into antidotes in the next moment. From the depths of the miasma, the altar of the Miao people could be vaguely seen, and the chanting of the shamans echoed through time and space.
But now, they are all lying in wait at the foot of the Chong Lou.
The waters of the Nine Springs ripple.
In an instant, the Demon Lord's left arm was covered with blue vine patterns—the life imprints left on the world by Shennong when he tasted hundreds of herbs.
Twin reflections appeared in his right pupil: one was the phantom image of Shennong with white hair and a pale face, and the other was the True Form of the Demon Lord with prominent horns and flying red hair.
The spine emitted a metallic clang, and the faint outline of half a bronze giant plow appeared—the very same plow and hoe used by Shennong when he reclaimed the wilderness.
"Shennong." Fuxi said indifferently, a slight ripple finally appearing on his face, which had been as still as a clay sculpture.
At that moment, he seemed to smell the fresh fragrance of grass, the scent of Shennong Pangu's Vitality.
The water ripples in Tianchi suddenly solidified into glass, its surface as smooth as a mirror.
"Fuxi".
In the water mirror, the dark red demonic shadow that had reforged the [Flame Wave Demon Blade] into the complete [Shennong's Plow] stood tall.
This soft call shattered the three thousand stars in the pool.
As Chong Lou tossed the plow, the bronze blade tore through the Star Curtain, and the Heavenly Pool suddenly turned into a mirror: the sun, moon, and stars on Fuxi's black robe transformed into real star clusters and fell, while Chong Lou's figure transformed from a two-dimensional reflection into a three-dimensional reality.
Where the bronze plow passed, stars shattered, and the phantom of the Nine Springs left a physical mark in the void—the crimson tide of the Hot Sea was still rising from his hair, and the Sands of Time of the Mist Soul were already falling softly from the gaps in his armor.
Fuxi simply retreated.
It transformed into a streak of light from a bronze hoe, forever just an inch short of striking its target.
He finally smiled, like a gentle spring breeze. Suddenly, he pressed his hand to his chest, where a long-lost sharp pain returned—after 30,000 years, he had once again felt the resonance of the San Sheng' essence.
"So, the best way to resolve this Calamity of Dao Transformation is through battle!"
"An opponent who can be my equal!"
He casually waved his hand and unleashed a Star Curtain.
They intercepted the Nine Heavens Xuannü and other gods who noticed the commotion and were preparing to step forward.
Jing Tian hid among the gods, drew half of the [Zhao Dan] sword, and sheathed it again.
"This is... this is..."
The Evil Sword Immortal condensed a mass of Evil Qi into a mirror, and he saw a strange face reflected in it.
However, he didn't even have time to be surprised.
"Snap—"
With another crisp sound, his body shattered like porcelain, just as the body of the evil dragon had collapsed before.
A divine sword, surrounded by black and white energy, burst forth from the body, cleaving through the void and disappearing from everyone's sight in an instant.
How did he die?
The one who asked this question was Qing Leng.
As an immortal, he could sense that the Evil Sword Immortal was merely weakened.
The process of going from stagnation to decay was too fast and too unnatural.
"He's no longer needed." Jing Tian shrugged. "We should go."
"Go? Where to?" Xue Jian asked, puzzled.
"The realm of gods," Jing Tian said.
Five portals appeared in the void, overlapping in front of everyone.
"I need to find Xi Yao. To settle my last obsession."
The realm of gods.
The top of the Da Shen tree that connects the realms of gods and humans.
Holding the divine wooden staff in one hand, the goddess who was fighting in the Star River suddenly looked to her right.
A man in blue emerged from the chaotic-colored portal.
"You... you've come?"
The goddess's voice was melodious and pleasant, like a clear stream hitting rocks, but it was also filled with a sense of awkwardness, as if she hadn't spoken for thousands of years.
"Xi Yao."
"You're Xi Yao?"
Jing Tian and Xue Jian said.
Do you like her?
Xi Yao looked at the face that matched her own, and a smile appeared on her delicate face.
"I like it," Jing Tian said.
He felt that there was another self deep inside him dissociating.
Fei Peng is different from Long Yang; he is Li Lin, and also Basil.
He was Li Lin without memories, an existence like the Sword: One called "Hongyan".
What are his feelings for Xi Yao?
Before Chong Lou appeared, he loved fighting and, like the wind, was restless. He would always come to the most secluded place in the God Realm, the place he should have stayed away from the most—under the Divine Tree, to meet Xi Yao.
He awkwardly tried to find topics to talk about, mentioning things that Xi Yao neither understood nor was interested in, such as 'fighting and killing spiritual power, immortal arts, and swordsmanship'.
Xi Yao also kept these words in her heart and never forgot them.
Yes, they never spoke out about their feelings for each other.
But they all understood who to keep them company when they were lonely, and who to spend the long, endless years with.
"That's great," Xi Yao said.