Embers Surge

The hem of the dark gold dragon-patterned Black Robes swept over the jade steps stained with residual blood. Ying Zheng stepped over the square littered with the corpses of demons. The metallic scrape of the Tai'a Sword returning to its sheath was exceptionally jarring in the dead silence. The residual warmth on the hilt seared his palm—it was the brand of the Ancestor Dragon True Spirit's awakening, and also a warning of overdraft.

Meng Tian knelt on one knee, the rough cloth hastily wrapped around his severed arm seeping dark blood. "The rebels have been cleared, but Lu Buwei... he escaped." His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding iron. "While clearing Ganquan Palace, I found this in a pool of blood."

He presented half of a Chilong Jade Pendant, its edges stained with powder and congealed blood. Ying Zheng's fingertips brushed over the broken edge of the pendant, dark gold churning in his eyes. This was Zhao Ji's personal item, and also something Lu Buwei had offered in flattery years ago. In the center of the pendant, a blood-red thread, as fine as a hair, moved unnervingly, like a living thing.

"Where is the Empress Dowager?" Ying Zheng's voice held no discernible emotion.

"Not a trace of her remains." Meng Tian swallowed hard. "All that was found at the scene was this pendant... and non-human claw marks."

The air suddenly solidified. Ying Zheng clenched his fist, the Chilong Jade Pendant groaning under the strain in his palm. The dark gold dragon energy escaped uncontrollably, causing surrounding stones to float and tremble. Ganquan Palace had become a blood pool, Zhao Ji's remains were nowhere to be found, and Lu Buwei had fled with demons... This was not defeat, but a deeper malignant tumor embedded in the very fabric of Great Qin!

"Issue an edict." Ying Zheng raised his head, his Dragon Eyes fixed on Mount Li. "The Shady Ravine of Mount Li is sealed forever. Those who dare approach will have their nine generations exterminated. As for Chancellor Lu Buwei, for regicide and rebellion, his head will be displayed... rewarded with ten thousand gold, and he shall be enfeoffed as Marquis!"

The kill order was like a blade unsheathed. Meng Tian solemnly accepted the command, but then saw the Emperor flick his Black Robe sleeve, and he had already transformed into a stream of dark gold light, rushing towards the cave entrance on Mount Li—there, there was still a "Royal Brother" whose fate was unknown.

A thick, foul stench mixed with the acrid smell of sulfur drilled into Cheng Xi's consciousness, forcing him awake. Every breath tore at his insides, his meridians feeling as if they were being repeatedly pierced by thousands of red-hot steel needles—the Chaos Sword Essence had gone out of control and was backlashing!

[Warning! Meridian damage 71%... Chaos Sword Essence continuously dissipating... Tongtian Mark about to be depleted...]

The System's light screen was a glaring crimson, and the energy bar was a shocking [0%]. He lay sprawled on the cold, rocky ground, the Qingping Sword Sheath stuck diagonally beside him, as dull as common iron. His vision blurred and swayed, only seeing a hole in the dome above letting in a sliver of sunlight, dust motes floating within it like gold flakes.

"Cough... cough cough!" Another mouthful of black, clotted blood choked out, carrying fragments of internal organs. The price of forcibly merging Chaos and Sword Intent had now become a persistent parasite. He tried to activate the Jianmu Fragment, but only a faint green glow, like a candle in the wind, responded—it had been completely depleted while resisting the Demon God's will just moments ago.

"Awake?" A cold voice echoed from above.

Ying Zheng's figure stood against the light, his Black Robes with their dragon patterns flowing with a dark luster in the dust. He looked down at Cheng Xi, his gaze like a knife, scraping over the ruptured wounds on his body and the uncontrollably dissipating grayish-green sword energy. "What was that sword?"

Cheng Xi pulled at the corner of his mouth, the intense pain twisting his smile. "A sword... to slay demons." He gasped, his fingertips struggling to point at the corpse of the Demon Lizard. "The demon egg is destroyed... Lu Buwei... was saved by black claws..."

Ying Zheng's Dragon Eyes narrowed sharply! His gaze swept over the sword wound on the Demon Lizard's head, so deep it exposed bone—at the edges of the cut, grayish-green energy was corroding the scales like a living thing, emitting a faint "sizzling" sound. It was definitely not of this world! He suddenly crouched down, his five fingers like iron pincers gripping Cheng Xi's wrist, and a powerful, pure dark gold dragon energy forcefully probed inward!

"Ugh—!" Cheng Xi cried out in pain. The Ancestor Dragon True Qi, like a torrent of scorching magma, crashed into his riddled meridians and violently collided with the rampaging Chaos Sword Essence! The two forces of grayish-green and dark gold fought fiercely within him, like two vicious dragons tearing and struggling!

"Let go... you'll ignite it!" Cheng Xi's eyes were about to split. The Chaos Sword Essence became more violent when faced with strength, and now stimulated by the Ancestor Dragon's power, it had completely turned into a runaway wild horse, frantically assaulting the last defense line laid by the Tongtian Mark! The sword sheath hummed and vibrated, and spiderweb-like cracks spread across its body!

Ying Zheng grunted, his hand gripping Cheng Xi's wrist suddenly repelled by a chaotic, sharp, immense force! The dark gold energy lingering on his fingertips was eroded, showing patches of gray. He stared at his trembling hand, then at Cheng Xi, who was curled up on the ground, his sword energy raging uncontrollably, as if about to explode at any moment. For the first time, a storm surged in his eyes.

This kind of power, if not controlled... would be a fire that burns oneself!

Moonlight pierced through the broken gauze window, illuminating the congealed bloodstains inside the hall. The remains of the palace maids had been removed, leaving only a mess and a pungent, sweetish smell. Yan Lingji huddled in the shadows of the hall corner, clutching the Qingping Sword Sheath tightly, like a drowning person grasping a piece of driftwood.

"Ugh..." Faint whimpers escaped her teeth. The wound on her left shoulder had long since healed, but beneath the skin, dark golden patterns were spreading at an unprecedented speed, bulging! They were no longer confined to her shoulder and arm, crawling towards her heart and spine like poisonous vines. A violent heat surged in the depths of her blood, each heartbeat bringing a sulfurous whisper:

"...Pangu... is rotten..."

"...Embrace... Chaos..."

"...Release... Us..."

"Get out!" Yan Lingji screamed in the depths of her consciousness. The pure white Witch Fire instinctively rose, but it was like a firefly hitting a reef, instantly swallowed by an older, darker dark gold. The cloud patterns on the sword sheath flickered, trying to guide the residual Zhurong origin within her, but it was firmly suppressed by a cold pressure originating from her soul—

It was the residual brand of the Will of Pangu Hall! Majestic, compassionate, yet with an undeniable power of restraint, like mountains weighing ten thousand jun pressing down on her boiling blood! The two supreme wills used her body as a battlefield, one seeking to purify, the other to erode, and her own consciousness was squeezed to the point of suffocation!

Buzz!

The sword sheath in her arms suddenly became scorching hot! A wisp of imperceptible green light shot from the sheath's opening, piercing her brow like a fine needle! The weak yet still resolute voice of Lord Tongtian exploded in her soul sea:

"Guard your heart's lamp! Witch Fire is the fuel! Burn away the filth, not yourself!"

The intense pain receded like a tide for a moment. Yan Lingji seized the opportunity to gather all her will, pressing a faint, blazing white flame into her heart. The dark golden patterns were temporarily repelled, lurking beneath her skin like coiled venomous snakes. She gasped and looked up, cold sweat soaking her temples, only to see the back of her right hand, pressed against the cold floor tiles, its skin silently cracking, revealing a thin fissure—within the fissure, a dark golden, inhuman vertical pupil suddenly opened! Then, under her horrified gaze, it slowly closed.

A chill instantly froze her marrow. This body was becoming a cage... or a passage?

Shackles · Stars Falling Like Rain

Midnight, Xianyang was dead silent. The invisible ripple that suddenly erupted from the direction of Mount Li finally swept across the peak of the Nine Heavens.

Boom—!

Deep within Zixiao Palace, Hongjun's cushion, suspended above endless rules, violently shook! Along the edge of the cushion, a crack like a strand of hair silently spread, releasing a few wisps of chaotic, hazy aura. The indistinct Dao figure on the cloud bed trembled for the first time, and a trace of coldness, like metal scraping, seeped into its voice, which had been as still as a thousand-year-old well:

"Variable... shall be slain!"

Almost simultaneously, at the bottom of the Netherworld Blood Sea. The wails of billions of resentful souls were forcibly silenced by an invisible, great power. The viscous blood churned, and a giant eye, as large as a star, condensed purely from foul blood and resentment, slowly opened. Its vertical pupil locked onto the void, greedily "licking" the crack in the Heavenly Dao that pierced through the three realms.

Inside Fire Cloud Cave, Fuxi's hand, which was playing the zither, stopped abruptly. The restraining barrier violently fluctuated, and the strings snapped with a "zing." He looked up at the void, the crack that flashed and disappeared reflected in his deep eyes, murmuring like a sigh: "Heaven cracks a line... tribulation arises... who holds the chess pieces?"

In the Xianyang marketplace, a watchman, huddled in a shabby alley, was startled awake by an inexplicable palpitation. He looked up blankly, his cloudy old eyes suddenly widening—above the pitch-black night sky, countless stars were detaching from their eternal orbits, trailing gorgeous tails of light, falling in a flurry!

Stars falling like rain illuminated Cheng Xi's writhing figure in the cave, and also illuminated the dark golden vertical pupil fissure on the back of Yan Lingji's hand that had quietly closed. From the crack in the Qingping Sword Sheath, a drop of residual Tongtian essence blood slowly seeped out, falling towards the dust, but before it touched the ground, it transformed into an imperceptible clear qi and vanished.

Deep within Mount Li, in the ruins of the demon den repeatedly plowed by Ancestor Dragon sword energy and Chaos Sword Essence, on the fingertip of a half-burnt Demon God's claw, a drop of viscous dark gold demon blood was slowly seeping into the cracks in the earth, disappearing from sight.

The embers were not yet cold, but undercurrents had already begun to form.