Chapter 162 — The Northern Dipper Lord Falls, The Stars Are Summoned!

Qi Wuhuo gazed at the Old Dragon King before him, and the latter in turn fixed his eyes upon the youth. In both their hearts, emotions surged in tangled currents.

Suddenly, a raucous roar split the air. A demonic beast came charging forth—a winged tiger, fangs bared, hurtling toward them. Before it even reached striking distance, a fetid wind reeking of blood and corruption whipped toward their faces. Yet it never came within three feet of them. With but a ripple of force, the creature was shattered into a crimson mist, its remains splattering upon the earth.

Ao Liu gave a low chuckle. “Heading in this direction, is little friend seeking Lord Lingmiao?”

“Yes.”

“Then we may as well travel together. There is strangeness in this matter. The number of demons that have appeared far exceeds what the Zhongzhou region could possibly give rise to. As the foremost of the mountain gods in this land, Lord Lingmiao ought to have long since arisen to slay these fiends. Yet he has not shown himself. I fear he, too, has been obstructed.”

The Dragon King’s voice sank with gravity. He had hastened back only to find the demonic miasma here far more oppressive than he had ever seen.

It had already surpassed his past experience—faintly, it even carried an echo of the calamity that befell Jinzhou in bygone years.

Could it be…

Suppressing his restless thoughts, the Old Dragon King merely swept his sleeve. At once, water vapor coiled beneath Qi Wuhuo’s feet, condensing into mist and cloud that lifted him aloft. The art of riding the clouds—such effortless grace lay beyond even most True Persons. Yet as a Water Deity, born of the near-divine dragon race, Ao Liu had cultivated for a thousand years. With a breath, mists gathered and dispersed.

Qi Wuhuo stepped upon the clouds, carried by Ao Liu, soaring above terrain and beasts alike, heedless of the perils below, rushing toward the domain of Lord Lingmiao.

The sudden acceleration froze the young Daoist’s very blood; an overwhelming chill spread through him. The blood upon his sleeves crystallized into frost, then shattered and scattered in the rushing wind. His sight blurred as the world before him streaked past—branches and leaves flashed by so swiftly that no reaction was possible.

Then, abruptly, the wind widened into a boundless roar.

His vision opened. They had pierced through the cloud sea. Before him stretched endless waves of mist and cloud. Even the lofty Lingmiao Mountain revealed but a portion above that vast ocean of white. From his ears resounded the desolate, sonorous cry of a dragon. Ao Liu’s true form had emerged. Amidst his drawn-out roar, rain fell along their course, suppressing the demonic miasma, delivering salvation unto the common folk.

The young Daoist’s gaze pierced forward. Even in midair, the demonic miasma had congealed into monstrous forms. Yet Zhongzhou had never borne so many birds—he could faintly surmise now that the vast tide of demons must surely be the work of some hidden hand. 

The howling gale assailed him, nearly sweeping him from his stance. He steadied himself, half-kneeling upon the coursing cloud, one hand pressed to his sword. At his waist, the Five-Thunders Judge’s Seal flared.

Noble and tyrannical violet thunder coursed along his frame.

Ao Liu’s drawn-out chant rumbled: “Be wary, little friend.”

“Elder Ao, what should we do?”

Qi Wuhuo could scarcely stand steady in their breakneck flight. Only his sword seemed exultant, shrieking wildly as though it yearned to hurl itself forth and clash with the swarm of fiends.

The Dragon King, in his true form, spoke in a voice deep and imperious:

“Simple—charge through!”

“Charge through…?”

Before the youth could comprehend, Ao Liu’s dragon pearl erupted with boundless radiance, enveloping him and sealing him apart from the outside world. In the next instant, Qi Wuhuo felt their speed surge to an unfathomable height.

All before his eyes dissolved into streams of light. His vision blurred; the surrounding clouds detonated outward in rippling layers of dense white mist, each wave scattering madly into the heavens.

Qi Wuhuo’s hearing fled him.

In this assault of absolute swiftness, even his blood seemed torn from his eyes and brain.

A mortal would have perished outright.

Even as a Daoist, Qi Wuhuo felt all before him dissolve into stark shades of black and white.

It was as though he observed from afar, watching all things recoil behind him. One by one, demons had yet to approach before being shattered by some unseen ripple, bursting into sprays of blood. He turned, and his sword shrieked—but he could not hear the sound, as if it had been cast behind him. Ao Liu’s long chant resounded; golden, vertical pupils cold and indifferent, revealing the sovereign majesty of a dragon.

The dragon’s roar echoed for a thousand miles.

The people of the Central Plains looked up, only to see a streak of lightning vanish into the distance. Only those of sufficient cultivation could discern the dragon’s prolonged cry, its sound like rolling thunder, tearing through the heavens, summoning layers of oppressive cloud across the firmament.

The position where Qi Wuhuo had stood was at least a hundred miles from the peaks of Lingmiao Mountain, the foremost of Zhongzhou’s mountains.

Coupled with the onslaught of demons, his own journey would have taken several hours.

Yet, in but a few breaths, he arrived.

Ao Liu had carried him at a speed exceeding six thousand miles per hour.

Were it not for the dragon pearl’s boundless radiance enveloping him, the young Daoist felt certain that the gale and bitter wind would have frozen his body solid. Not to mention wielding his sword—he would scarcely have been able to grasp it. At such a velocity, even death would have been possible.

The sudden acceleration eased, and the scene before Qi Wuhuo returned to color.

Even the sounds of someone left behind now caught up with him.

Clang!!!

A domineering, thunderous roar split the air. Sparks of fire rained down before him. The young Daoist stood atop the mountain, lifting his gaze to behold Lord Lingmiao—towering like a mountain itself, a thousand meters tall. Gone were his once-kind eyes; he was clad in heavy armor, wielding a long-handled warblade, locked in fierce combat with a colossal demonic being.

Steel met steel with a shrill clang, a cry like rolling thunder erupting into the sky. Countless sparks burst forth, falling like meteors. Each impact gouged pits several meters across, shaking the earth beneath. Yet the foul entities born of the demonic miasma of heaven and earth would not yield, roaring and thrashing, forcing back Lord Lingmiao’s blade.

In the void, infinite currents of energy surged, revealing faint patterns of the Celestial Cycle. Mystic arts proliferated, sprouting countless spectral arms that sought to grasp Lord Lingmiao. Thunder and flames rained down in titanic torrents, each radiating searing light. Then came the roar of a dragon. Thick clouds coalesced, and a colossal dragon claw emerged, crushing the cascading fire and lightning with ease.

Ao Liu’s true form rose above the cloudsea, a thousand meters in length, coiling through the heavens. He let out a prolonged, resonant dragon roar, shaking the four corners of the world. Thunder and rain followed his call, crashing down with unstoppable force.

“Demons—be vanquished!”

Lord Lingmiao let out a furious, prolonged roar. In his palm, the warblade blazed with golden radiance, as if illuminating heaven and earth itself. With a violent downward slash, the demonic miasma scattered, only to coalesce into hundreds of spectral weapons, their formations shattering under the force. The visible blaze was so intense that the temperature within a hundred li seemed to rise. The young Daoist stood atop the mountain peak, feeling the scorching wind sweep past, his sleeves billowing in the tempest.

Thunder wrapped around him like a protective barrier.

“So this is combat at the level of Immortals and Gods…”

Those who had mastered the Three Talents would set up ritual platforms to enact proper divine rites.

Those with Innate Primordial Qi could manifest godly powers with but a thought.

True Persons walked freely across the world.

Yet here, it was a battle involving the foremost of the Central Plains’ mountain deities and the chief of the Water Deities—an authentic clash of celestial might. The power displayed was utterly distinct from that of mere mortals or cultivators of the human realm. Qi Wuhuo’s mind flashed to Senior Sister Yu Miao, who had once wielded her sword against the very heavens, halted only by the intervention of generals of the Thunder Mansion.

The young Daoist slowly exhaled, drawing in his wandering spirit and calming his mind.

With a sweep of his sleeve, the Northern Emperor Mirror floated into the void.

Stepping forward with measured tread, the youth drew his sword and enacted the Northern Emperor Ritual. In but an instant, a vast and boundless Demon God appeared—three-headed, with the left face twisted in wrath, the right serene in joy and compassion, while the central visage remained cold and indifferent. Yet as if sensing a threat, all three heads suddenly twisted into wrathful visages, their eyes flaring open, fangs bared upon their lips. With a roar, they forced Lord Lingmiao back, and in the monster’s right hand a massive spear rose to smash down.

A dragon’s roar thundered forth.

Ao Liu’s true form coiled tightly around the spear. The true dragon spiraled, its claws raking into the Demon God’s shoulders, sinking deep into its flesh.

Lord Lingmiao braced, drawing his right foot back to steady himself. With a furious bellow, the long-bladed halberd in his grasp thrust forward, piercing straight into the fiend’s chest and abdomen. At once, the might of the earth-veins erupted, sweeping outward like a tempest. Yet the three-headed Demon God heeded it not—weapon cast aside, it merely roared louder, lifting its colossal right hand. Its eyes, larger even than Qi Wuhuo’s, burned with fury, and that mountain-like palm came crashing down toward the young Daoist.

“Little friend, fall back!”

Qi Wuhuo was engulfed beneath that hand.

But suddenly, the Demon God let out a shriek of agony. Pain lanced through its palm—instinctively it raised its hand. From within, the Lianyang Sword burst free, boring through the fiend’s palm. And all because Qi Wuhuo had spoken a single phrase to it:

“Follow your own will. Act as you desire!”

It was as though the ceaseless slaughter along their path had finally awakened a portion of the sword’s true power. From its blade emanated an ominous, blood-hued light. The young Daoist, stained in blood, had at last completed the Northern Emperor’s ritual. Above, the firmament had long been shrouded in thick, heavy clouds that veiled the sun and sky. Yet at this moment, none could say when—but those clouds were no more.

Perhaps they had been shattered by the descent of the stars themselves.

The Northern Dipper stars one by one flared into brilliance.

Starlight fell like a river, drawn forth by the Five-Thunder Judge’s Seal of the Northern Pole Exorcist Court at his waist.

The Northern Pole Exorcist Court was no rabble of wandering cultivators; it was a celestial institution of the Heavenly Court itself, standing peer to peer with the Shangqing Tianshu(Heavenly Pivot) Institute. Not merely war-gods did it house, but Heaven’s officers of all ranks—those who reckoned karma, those who tempered divine weapons.

Now, the radiance of the stars descended.

The young Daoist breathed out once more. Around him, the starlight of the Northern Dipper flowed like water, glimmering faintly upon his Daoist robes.

Holding one sword in both hands, he sensed—for but a fleeting moment—the strength he could borrow from the heavens.

Pure force alone was nothing to the Heavenly Court’s ordered structure of One Mansion and Two Courts. The myriad stars, the cycles of heaven, the thunder of the cosmos—all could, for a brief span, lend their strength. Yet cultivation was the true core. Even so, the power of the Northern Dipper was enough to shield Qi Wuhuo from being annihilated outright by the mere aftermath of this battlefield.

From the wooden hairpin upon his crown glimmered a trace of jade light—Tianshu, foremost of the stars, guarding his soul.

Across the flowing sleeves of his robe, starlight coursed—Tianxuan and Ju Men, warding his body.

Around him shimmered the brilliance of the constellations. At last, the blood-hued longsword fell into his hand, and with it a torrent of domineering star-power descended.

Yaoguang and Po Jun—this sword was infused with their spirit.

Yet just as the starlight of the Northern Pole Exorcist Court began to disperse, a strange change occurred.

It seemed that, drawn by the Northern Emperor’s Dharma, sovereign of the starry constellations, or perhaps because of his very presence, the once-stable mortal dynasty began to show signs of upheaval. In the heavens above, the celestial officials charged with casting down the power of the Northern Dipper grew troubled over the state of the human world. Yet suddenly, the formation that should have ceased—the array for channeling the star-force—was still turning, though they themselves had already withdrawn their hands.

“This… is the formation changing of its own accord?!”

“Impossible!”

The Star Officers, more skilled in formations than in battle, barked in anger and panic. Yet when they raised their eyes, they were struck dumb. For this place was the Central Heaven’s Northern Pole Exorcist Court, directly under the authority of the Northern Emperor, Purple Tenuity Great Emperor. Here lay the Jade Disk, upon which the light of the heavens and stars was manifest, revolving in their ordained order, from which the Northern Pole Exorcist Court drew power to slay demons and purge spirits.

But now, the seven stars of the Northern Dipper had all dimmed.

Instead, another faint star began to flicker, its light slowly emerging. Threads of flame stirred and flowed.

Fiery and blazing, with the will to subdue demons.

The Star Officers’ eyes widened. “That… that star is—”

“Huo…”

A glimmering flame, unwavering and bright.

A single spark forced itself into the starry summoning and hurled itself down into the mortal realm!