Wind Traverse

"My sword exists to kill!"

Xue Zhong Yi Jian Xia suddenly opened his eyes, and a fierce killing intent erupted from his body.

The sword energy within him immediately ran wild, frantically compressing toward the center, trying to force itself into form.

Pfft.

He spat out another mouthful of blood.

The half-condensed energy collapsed even more thoroughly than before. Violent sword energy rampaged through his meridians, wracking his entire body with pain.

"You're wrong."

Qin Chuan's voice sounded by his ear, devoid of emotion.

"Slaughter is merely the result of the sword, not the sword itself."

Xue Zhong Yi Jian Xia clutched his chest, his face filled with unwillingness and confusion.

"Then what is it?"

"Your sword is too rigid." Qin Chuan did not answer directly, instead looking at the Long Blade in his hand. "You only give it meaning when killing is required. At all other times, it is nothing more than ordinary steel."

Xue Zhong Yi Jian Xia froze.

He lowered his head and looked at the weapon that had accompanied him all this way. At this moment, it seemed strangely unfamiliar.

Rigid...

He thought of Xiao.

Xiao's speed remained speed even when there was no target to attack.

He thought of Jing.

Jing's illusion was the essence of her existence, not merely a means of facing enemies.

And what about his sword? What about his wind?

What should wind be like?

Wind was free, unconstrained, and capable of slipping everywhere.

It could be a gentle breeze, or a hurricane that tore apart everything.

Yet his sword had only learned the fury of a hurricane and forgotten the agility of a breeze.

He had always used his sword to command the wind, but had forgotten that his essence was wind itself.

The sword was merely one form of wind.

"I understand..."

Xue Zhong Yi Jian Xia released the Blade Hilt he had been gripping tightly.

His entire aura changed.

That fierce killing intent vanished, replaced by an ethereal, elusive air that could not be grasped.

He no longer deliberately tried to condense his energy.

He simply let go of the restraints he had placed upon himself, allowing the origin of wind to completely merge with his will.

"Wind is formless and shapeless, everywhere and nowhere."

"My path should be like the wind—free, swift, and unrestrained."

"Its name is Wind Traverse."

The moment his words fell, the inherited power of wind within him found its destination.

No longer was it violent sword energy. Wisps of cyan airflow naturally gathered within his sea of qi, circling and compressing.

In the end, a cyan Godhead Prototype formed—constantly spinning, as though composed entirely of pure airflow.

A light yet sharp Divine Might surged into the sky.

This Divine Might was completely unlike Xu Changqing's Holy Light Grace. It was neither heavy nor sacred, yet it carried a nimble sharpness that could tear apart anything at any moment.

Another new god was about to be born.

This put even greater pressure on those who remained.

"No, still no!" Water God scratched at his head in desperation.

He imitated Jing, trying to turn his heart into a lake without ripples, reflecting all things.

But he was naturally restless and simply could not calm down.

The moment his inner lake settled, his own wild thoughts churned it into a mess.

"What exactly is water?"

He stared at the ball of water constantly shifting forms in his palm and fell into deep thought.

Water could carry a boat, but it could also capsize one.

Water could cleanse, but it could also contaminate.

Water could be supremely soft, yet it could also be supremely hard.

Its forms were far too varied.

"Why must you give it a fixed definition?"

Jing's voice softly rang out beside him.

Water God looked up to see Jing standing beside him at some unknown point, curiously watching the water ball in his palm.

"Water is water. Whatever you think it is, that is what it becomes."

Jing lightly tapped the water ball with her fingertip.

The water ball instantly turned into an ice mirror, became a cloud of scorching steam the next second, and finally condensed back into droplets of water.

"Its ever-changing nature is its essence."

Water God's body jolted.

That was right.

Why did he have to force a definition onto water?

"My path is change, infinity, and all phenomena!"

A mischievous grin appeared on Water God's face.

"I am the source of all currents and the sea of illusions."

"My divine name is Thousand-Faced Phantom Tide!"

Buzz—

The water-element energy within him instantly boiled.

It was no longer merely liquid, but contained the possibility of endless transformations.

An azure Godhead Prototype slowly took shape in his chest, its interior seeming to contain countless scenes endlessly appearing and vanishing.

For a time, Divine Might surged through the council hall. Three completely distinct powers intertwined, yet remained clearly separate.

Holy Light, Wind Traverse, Phantom Tide.

Xu Changqing, Xue Zhong Yi Jian Xia, and Water God stood there. Their bodies were still the same, but the feeling they gave off had completely changed.

They were no longer mere users of energy. They had become rules themselves.

The expressions on the faces of En En Shixiong and the others were complicated.

Envy, anxiety, and an unyielding determination.

With the successful examples of their three companions, they too had found their own directions. But breaking through that final barrier would still take time and insight.

As an unprecedented collective transformation unfolded within Peak Guild, they had no idea what terrifying waves this newborn power had already set in motion.

Several new gods were being born at once. Their respective "paths" converged into an invisible torrent of laws that spread from the council hall across the entire planet.

Ordinary people could not sense this torrent, yet it etched entirely new marks upon the planet's underlying rules.

The air now held an additional concept of "grace" belonging to Holy Light.

The flow of wind gained a measure of the sharpness of "Wind Traverse."

The transformations of water gained another possibility of "Phantom Tide."

The laws of the entire Blue Planet were being silently rewritten.

Deep within the Amazon Rainforest of South America stood an ancient Divine Temple buried beneath vines and bones.

Beneath the Divine Temple lay an enormous karst cave. Countless ghastly white skulls were piled along its walls like mountains, and clusters of Nightmare Spores emitting pale phosphorescence grew from their eye sockets.

At the center of the cave, Bone Nightmare Weaver Sylvia was immersed in her dream domain.

Her body, pieced together from countless bones, released dream particles that eroded the mind with every breath.

Suddenly, her movements halted.

The Nightmare Spores throughout the cave shrank in unison as though frightened, their phosphorescence dimming.

"New... laws..."

A dry grinding sound came from Sylvia's face, which was formed from jawbones.

She sensed it. The "dreams" of this world had been infused with something unfamiliar.

A sacred light, a sharp wind, and ever-changing water.

These things were diluting her nightmares and dispelling her fear.

They filled her with instinctive disgust and unease.

Europe, within some forgotten underground catacombs.

This was the Soul Furnace of Soul Devouring Monarch Grego.

Crimson chains coiled around the furnace like venomous serpents. At the ends of those chains were bound translucent, wailing souls.

Grego was enjoying his "meal," tossing a newly captured soul into the furnace burning with soulfire.

Just then, he abruptly raised his head.

He sensed them.

Several entirely new, powerful soul fluctuations brimming with vitality had been born in the air.

These souls were like blazing torches in the darkness, carrying a fatal allure for him.

Yet at the same time, he read something from the fluctuations of those souls—something he knew all too well and hated deeply.

Divinity.

Were this planet's natives mass-producing gods?