Chapter 144
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Chapter 144: Recognizing the Master of Zichan
A radiant streak of light sliced through the heavens, as spiritual energy surged and winds and clouds converged. The world shimmered with vibrant hues, the blazing sun hung high, casting its golden rays, while the flowing clouds gleamed with purity.
Yet, beneath the intense sun, a bright moon emerged, encircled by a multitude of stars, creating a celestial spectacle never before witnessed—a simultaneous brilliance of sun and moon.
Under this luminous display, all shadows were banished.
Stars twinkled, their light illuminating the surroundings, as they clustered around the moon, a sight of unparalleled beauty.
This was no ordinary moon, born of the earth’s natural cycle, but one that ascended due to the presence of a singular individual.
The moon, shaped like a hook, cast a gentle, warm light, not cold as one might expect. It filtered through the sun’s rays, enveloping the cultivators in its glow. Their minds were momentarily dazed, their spirits cleared, and all previous confusions dissipated instantly.
It felt like a divine baptism, or perhaps a celestial gift.
The world itself seemed to celebrate this moment.
Though not deeply versed in the ways of cultivation, they instinctively sat cross-legged, absorbing the myriad insights that would guide their future paths without hindrance.
Ming He sat enveloped in a swirling mist of golden light, her eyes reflecting the fleeting winds and starry skies, sparkling with clarity.
She gazed up at the clear azure sky, sensing the peak of the Tianwu Continent looming above her, almost within reach.
She had truly reached this pivotal moment.
Ming He allowed a faint smile to grace her lips as she reached out towards a nearby white cloud, only to withdraw her hand at the last moment, casting her gaze downward.
Mountains and rivers, lush forests, and the vast expanse of the five regions lay spread out beneath her.
Though she stood amidst the mist at no great height, she could see the entirety of the Tianwu Continent.
The sharp, cold winds, like blades, followed Ming He protectively. The golden light surged, carrying her across countless miles of clouds, bringing her to a place both strange and familiar.
Green mountains and clear waters, with spiritual energy forming a mist—this was once the convergence of all worldly winds and clouds, a place where unmatched powerful allies had shed their pride and remained sealed for a thousand years.
This was the origin of everything, the very place where Ming He embarked on the path of supreme Swordsmanship.
Here, in the ancient cave dwelling of Luoyin City, the Ninth Prefecture of the Eastern Region.
It was the cave where Ming He recognized the Star Lock as her own, where she first met Qin Chu Yi, and also where Mu Xuan Ye nearly met her end.
This cave dwelling, originating from ancient times, was situated here due to the confinement of Mu Xuan Ye. After recognizing the Star Lock, it sank into the ground, but now, with Ming He’s re-emergence, it would never sink again.
This cave had a name: Zichan.
“This cave was built by the ancestors of my clan.” The cold voice of the girl in black echoed in Ming He’s mind.
That girl in black, with her unmatched grace, open and virtuous nature, had left a vivid impression on Ming He’s heart. Despite the years that had passed, she still remembered the words she had spoken.
Born from the Star Lock, the Zichan cave.
To refine the Star Lock.
Ming He thought of the girl in black’s warm and gentle smile, falling into a moment of silence.
Nineteen.
A ray of light cold across Nineteen states, Nineteen.
Back then, she had said that her identity and origins were inconvenient to disclose to Ming He.
However, at this moment, Ming He gazed at the distant cave dwelling with its rocks and vegetation, her lips curling into a determined and confident smile.
She believed she had likely deciphered Nineteen’s identity and inheritance.
Sword cultivator, formation master.
She was genuinely looking forward to their meeting!
It shouldn’t be long now.
But for now, she had more pressing matters to attend to.
Ming He rose to her feet and tugged at her garment. It was the black cloak that Mu Xuan Ye had draped over her earlier, shielding her blood-stained and disheveled appearance, preserving her last vestige of pride.
It was a gesture of respect and care from the equally proud Mu Xuan Ye.
But now, she no longer needed it.
“Whoosh!”
The large black cloak fluttered in Ming He’s hand, filling with wind and lifting high in the direction of her right hand’s force, then falling heavily to the ground, stained with blood and the sharp gusts of wind, mingling with the earthy scent.
No trace of the demon race remained.
Ming He floated in mid-air, her thin white inner garment stained with blood and dirt, the wind lifting the edges of her clothes to reveal the horrifying scars beneath—a body riddled with wounds.
She was on the verge of becoming a spirit cleansed of dust and reborn.
Her black hair floated behind her as Ming He stared with her sparkling peach blossom eyes, her lips curling into a faint, enigmatic smile. Her gaze was bright yet cold as she looked down at the cave dwelling, clearly seeing the ancient fierce beast Kui lazily sleeping on the white jade steps.
It seemed that when she had last left the cave, it had been in the same position.
Ming He fixed her gaze on it, watching as it blissfully snored, completely unaware. After a moment, she symbolically scanned the cave dwelling, surveying her territory like an emperor.
She then withdrew her gaze, gathering her focus, immersing her spirit in the Star Lock. The spiritual ocean surged ceaselessly, the Ghostly Sword let out a soft cry, and the entire cave dwelling was enveloped in a sharp aura that could contend with the heavens.
It was a striking declaration of her brilliance.
Mountains trembled, the sun and moon shone together, and the endless clouds sliced through the darkness—all triggered by Ming He, an extraordinary phenomenon in the world.
At that moment, the anomalies appearing across the Tianwu Continent were far from over.
In the depths of the Northern Wilderness, Sword Demon Mountain swayed under the radiant light, showing signs of collapse; in the battlefield of the heavens, a girl in black gazed toward the bloody heights with a solemn expression, while a young man in heavy armor looked around with a mournful demeanor; before the blood-red cliff, the young man’s expression was spirited, his smile warm…
Ming He was completely unaware of all this, her expression focused as the starry light flowed around her. She floated above the Zichan cave dwelling, her hands forming an incantation that exuded a profound and obscure aura—an incantation that was both similar to and entirely distinct from Mu Xuan Ye’s.
The similarity lay in their ancient origins, having endured the changing tides to retain their original brilliance, reflecting the shifts in the world and the spread of the Great Path.
The stark difference came from their natures: Mu Xuan Ye’s incantation was the demon race’s technique for refining puppets, while Ming He’s incantation was the human race’s technique for harnessing the forces of nature.
The former belonged to the demon race, embodying the darkest shadows; the latter was born of the human race, embodying the brightest light.
Existing in opposition, they were naturally distinct.
The Cloud Pulling Technique drew upon the forces of nature for her own use, a gift from the Clear Heart of the Sword.
Clear Heart of the Sword.
Ming He lingered on these four words, feeling a momentary daze, then straightened her posture, her expression serious. She immersed her spirit, drawing the Star Lock out from her body. Bright light flashed and swirled, stars surrounding her, making her the brightest presence in the Zichan cave.
It was time.
Ming He lowered her gaze, looking at her blood-stained and scarred body, a slow smile curving her lips as she etched the bone-deep pain of this moment into her memory. Then she let out a low roar, her hands swiftly forming the incantation, pulling the Star Power into her body, merging it with the boiling demonic energy within, contending for control over her own body.
Asura Heart is the process of using demonic energy as a foundation to cleanse the mortal body of its impurities, forging supreme immortal bones and aligning them with the Great Path.
Ming He’s path was that of Swordsmanship, and thus her bones were destined to be supreme sword bones, also known as the Born Sword Bone.
These bones were identical to those of Sword Master’s Born Sword Bone.
A sword bone forged through human effort, defying the heavens.
Through the extensive knowledge gained from the Liu Yun Sect, Floating Cloud Sect, and the Qin Royal Palace, Ming He now understood with absolute clarity that the way of heaven could not be defied. Sword Master’s Born Sword Bone was his destiny, born from spirit, a power beyond the imagination of ordinary people.
Such power was not easily replicated.
To replicate it meant bearing the consequences.
The cause and effect of the world did not fall upon her, but upon others.
Others.
Ming He’s gaze deepened. She did not know the identities or cultivation levels of those others, but her heart harbored its own suspicions.
To use the heavens and earth as a chessboard was indeed a remarkable strategy.
Yet, even with supreme sword bones, she could not guarantee their full attainment. Thus, she focused on overcoming the immediate challenge before considering the future.
Ming He took a deep breath, her spirit reaching its zenith. She continued to form intricate hand seals, each movement imbued with the profound essence of the Great Path, sharp enough to shake the heavens.
The collision of demonic energy, Star Power, and sword energy roared like the violent clash of three great mountains amidst the Shadow Strike, sending shockwaves through Ming He’s body, causing her excruciating pain.
Victory or defeat hinged on this single moment!
Ming He’s eyes turned fierce as she bit her lip, letting drops of blood fall onto her wrist, precisely where her tendons had been severed. The blood seeped into her body through the wound.
Pain surged and overlapped, but Ming He lowered her gaze, steadying her mind. Her body trembled slightly, struggling to endure the profound numbness of the pain.
Yet her soul could still withstand it.
The turbulence of demonic energy paled in comparison to the heart-wrenching agony of her severed tendons and shattered swordsmanship.
Thus, her consciousness remained exceptionally clear and calm. Her expression unchanged, her hands continued the incantation, gradually drawing upon the natural elements of heaven and earth to fill herself with Mu Xuan Ye’s pure and untainted demonic energy, cleansing her of all impurities.
Her body, battered and torn by the force of the wind, with broken joints turning to dust, did not feel any more pain before the Star Power entered her body under the guidance of the Cloud Pulling Technique, filling her gaps and forging her cultivation into the roots of a true cultivator.
With a thunderous roar, the Zichan Cave manifested in the world, its full power pouring into Ming He’s heart, completing the true ceremony of acknowledging her as its master.
From this moment on, the cave and its guardian beast truly belonged to Ming He, obeying her every command.
The blood-stained white inner garment had completely torn apart and scattered around the cave, but from somewhere within the Zichan Cave, a black-and-white robe floated down, landing perfectly on Ming He, highlighting her graceful and serene countenance.
It was an aura that commanded respect without the need for anger.
It was the brilliance befitting the master of the Zichan Cave.
Ming He lowered her gaze once more, finding no trace of black demonic energy within her. The spiritual energy flowing through her shimmered with golden waves, radiating the just and grand essence of the Great Path.
Her bones and meridians were translucent, far surpassing the impure bodies of mortals and even the roots of ordinary cultivators.
This was an immortal bone, identical to Sword Master’s naturally born sword bones.
She already possessed the qualifications of Sword Master, but she had far more than just that root bone.
She also had the Clear Heart of the Sword, the Star Lock, and so much more.
Most importantly, she was still Ming He.
Ming He flexed her wrist, her eyes gleaming with vitality, the scars left by Mu Qian now completely vanished.
This was a new body, distinct from her previous one, naturally free of all old wounds, including the accumulated pain from months of relentless pursuit.
And, of course, her spiritual ocean was restored.
Ming He opened her eyes, a joyful smile spreading across her face. She focused her mind, channeling the spiritual energy of the heavens and earth through the Star Technique, stirring up a tempest of spiritual energy within Zichan Cave.
Her once barren spiritual ocean now absorbed the external spiritual energy like a vast, boundless sea, and her cultivation surged forward at an almost absurd pace.
From the third level of the Wind Master realm, it leaped to the fifth!
Then to the ninth!
The path of cultivation grows increasingly arduous as one progresses, and breaking through the barriers of the Wind Master realm typically takes years.
But Ming He had always been an exception, and this time was no different.
The storm of spiritual energy showed no signs of abating; instead, it grew even more ferocious, surging toward Ming He as if to lift her to the pinnacle of power.
The barriers of the Heaven Origin realm were shattered with ease.
First level of the Heaven Origin realm.
Third level.
Fifth level.
Finally, Ming He’s cultivation stabilized at the seventh stage of the Heaven Origin realm, her eyes gleaming with a thunderous intensity.
She stood there, her gaze cold and unyielding, while the trees around her bent under the weight of her presence, their branches unmoving in the wind, trembling in awe of her overwhelming strength.
A Heaven Origin realm cultivator, capable of wielding the forces of nature, might even be able to strike down the Earth Emperor.
Such a being inspired fear in all living things, even the trees, which seemed to cower in her presence.
Ming He glanced at the Kui, which had rushed to her side and now lay prostrate at her feet in submission. A faint smile played on her lips as she slowly descended, planting her foot firmly on the Kui’s head. Her right wrist twitched slightly once more.
In the sky, several streaks of light flashed by, this time accompanied by a sharp, resonant ring.
The Jing Ying Sword burst through the earth, piercing the clouds of the Tianwu Continent, leading the Blue Sea Sword and Longquan Sword as they left golden sword shadows trailing in the air.
In mere moments, the swords traversed more than half of Tianwu, coming to a halt before Ming He. Their blades quivered slightly, radiating joy and familiarity.
Ming He blinked, watching as the Jing Ying Sword and Blue Sea Sword circled her playfully, while the Longquan Sword lagged behind, aware of its inferiority, drifting dejectedly above her head.
Ming He thought to herself, "Well, what can I do? I have too many swords."
She reached out with her right hand to tuck the Longquan Sword behind her back, gripping the Jing Ying Sword in her right hand and the Blue Sea Sword in her left. Standing atop the Kui’s back, she narrowed her eyes and gazed at the sky.
There was still one month until the Dragon and Tiger Rankings competition began.
One month.
She was eager for it.
With this thought, Ming He directed the Kui back to the central palace of Zichan Cave. She sat cross-legged and began her cultivation.
Or, perhaps more accurately, her enlightenment.
She was entirely unaware of the uproar her actions had caused in the outside world, and she cared even less.
This day marked a pivotal moment in the annals of the World of Martial Arts.
On this day, the Sword Emperor Ming He, the 111th Young Leader of the human race, realized her true heart, stirring the winds and clouds, and thus forged a new era in the Tianwu Continent.
On this day, Sword Demon Mountain crumbled with a deafening roar, the Northern Wilderness was reshaped, and clarity returned to the world, with half of the cultivators entering a profound state of enlightenment.
On this day, Mu Xuan Ye, the Left Envoy of the demon race, suffered a decline in his cultivation, while the young Demon Lord began to reveal his formidable potential.
On this day, the leader of the Demon Race fell, and the young leader Ji Wu Xu ascended to power, ruthlessly executing the Right Envoy and taking initial control of the Demon Race.
On this day…
At the blood-red cliff.
Mu Qian, clad in black, stood before the remnants of a palace, his gaze fixed on the words "Blood River" with a profound intensity.
Suddenly, the air trembled, and the chilling scent of blood grew stronger as a black figure tumbled out of the void.
Mu Qian’s expression shifted slightly as he stepped forward to support the figure, his voice respectful yet puzzled, “Envoy? You…”.
He steadied Yóu Lìng and guided her through the void, ascending above the sea of clouds. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to use his blood energy to assess the severity of Yóu Lìng’s injuries, but she pushed him away.
“It’s nothing,” Yóu Lìng gasped, her voice faint and barely audible.
Her mask concealed her expression and face, and though Mu Qian couldn’t see the extent of her injuries, he knew they were grave.
Indeed, given the circumstances, how could they be anything but?
Yet, having followed Yóu Lìng for so long, he knew that her loyalty to the alien prince and her pride outweighed even her own life.
“Ming He has escaped,” Yóu Lìng murmured, her eyes sharp as blades behind the mask, piercing Mu Qian with an intense stare.
She doubted him.
Mu Qian understood the unspoken accusation but remained composed. “This subordinate knows.”
He offered a faint, sardonic smile in response to Yóu Lìng’s penetrating gaze. “Purple Dawn Mansion must have fully accepted her as their master.”
About the Star Lock, about Zichan Cave—Yóu Lìng had told him, so of course, he knew.
“This subordinate is aware the plan has changed, but I did not expect the envoy to…” be so grievously wounded.
It was a surprise that Yóu Lìng had survived at all.
“Envoy, your injuries…” Should he inform the prince?
Mu Qian, once a sword cultivator, recognized the deep-seated righteous sword energy within her, though it didn’t surprise him.
“No need,” Yóu Lìng replied instinctively. “The prince… The prince is occupied. Do not disturb her.”
She couldn’t bear to appear before the prince in such a pitiful state.
All she desired was to aid her.
If she couldn’t, then…
“Then shall we proceed with the plan as intended?” Mu Qian hesitated. “Ming He has escaped, and this subordinate is concerned about the human race…”
“No need,” Yóu Lìng’s voice remained low and steady. “Proceed as planned. The Dragon and Tiger Rankings competition will mark the alien race’s ascension in Tianwu. As for the human race…”
She let out a cold snort, her eyes brimming with disdain and contempt. “Those mere humans, those mere humans!”
“I once used soul mastery to glimpse the world. The two beings in the Imperial Palace are no less injured than I am now. This is our best opportunity.”
She had made a promise to the prince, and she would see it through.
If she failed—
Yóu Lìng narrowed her eyes and let out a soft, dark chuckle. She would not fail.
