Chapter 146

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Chapter 146: Sword Slashes the Earth Emperor

"Challenge me?" Gong Shu’s expression stiffened slightly, a sense of unease creeping in as if something had slipped beyond his control.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to unfold. Even if Ming He had claimed the top spot on the Heavenly Dragon List, even if she sought to challenge an Earth Emperor Realm expert, it should have been Liu Yu, not him.

His gaze lingered on Ming He’s faintly curved lips, and for a fleeting moment, he felt a pang of doubt—could he truly lose to her sword?

But how could that be? She was merely at the seventh stage of the Heaven Origin realm.

And he? He was an Earth Emperor Realm expert.

"Since Friend Ming He is brimming with such fervor, I shall offer you some guidance," Gong Shu declared, his voice carrying a tone of magnanimity. He flashed a confident smile, his figure soaring gracefully onto the arena to face Ming He, exuding the demeanor of a seasoned mentor addressing a promising disciple.

Ming He, however, had no intention of holding back. Her lips curled into a smile, but her eyes were as cold as steel. "I am not here for your guidance," she said, her voice sharp and unyielding. "I am here for your head."

She gripped the Jing Ying Sword, her gaze fixed on the rippling blade as memories of past humiliation and despair flooded her mind. Though Gong Shu was not directly responsible, she could not direct her rage at Liu Yu, who had merely followed orders. Thus, Gong Shu became the target of her wrath.

"I am not of the demon race, nor have I conspired with alien races or the Black Wind Alliance," Ming He declared, her words deliberate and measured. She faced the Shanhai Sect disciples, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion, and the Xia siblings, who watched with understanding. "Your Vice Sect Master is the true traitor of the human race, colluding with the Black Wind Alliance."

"Today, I will clear my name!" Ming He proclaimed, her voice resounding across the arena. With a swift motion, she unleashed her long sword, launching her attack.

The forces of nature—the flowing clouds and the radiant sun—converged upon her blade, responding to her command. Waves of energy surged toward Gong Shu, their power immense and unrelenting.

"Utter nonsense!" Gong Shu’s initial panic quickly gave way to anger and disbelief. He forced a confident smile, masking his unease. "Very well, today I shall cleanse the human race of its filth."

With those words, he raised his palm, a fierce glint in his eyes as he struck toward Ming He, intent on crushing her with a single blow, much like he had done to Liu Yu.

But while Liu Yu’s actions had been a facade to gain trust, Gong Shu’s intentions were deadly earnest.

Ming He let out a cold laugh, standing her ground without flinching. She faced the overwhelming pressure of the royal side’s might, her resolve unshaken. With a flick of her wrist, her sword danced lightly, channeling the pent-up fury she had harbored for months. Her strike carried the force of thunder, swift and unyielding.

The tip of her sword clashed with the gust of his palm, and the heavens seemed to tremble. The wind howled, and the shadows of the trees swayed violently. The arena on Canglan Mountain quaked under the force of their battle, teetering on the brink of collapse.

Ming He paid no heed to the chaos around her. Her sword moved with precision, each step calculated and relentless. The white hem of her robe fluttered amidst the surging clouds, embodying the sharpness and grace of a true sword cultivator.

She was like a blade forged of pure light, her aura cutting through the heavens and the earth. The clouds and sunlight swirled around her, yet they could not touch her, serving only as a backdrop to her brilliance—like leaves framing a flower, or starlight cradling the bright moon.

Gong Shu, the Vice Sect Master of the Shanhai Sect, was a practitioner of the Shanhai Dao. His palm strike carried the weight of mountains, seeking to crush Ming He’s spirit, and the vastness of the ocean, aiming to overwhelm her sword.

His attack was a manifestation of the mountains and seas, a force that seemed to encompass all of creation. It was the pinnacle of a royal side’s power, a strike meant to annihilate.

He did not believe for a moment that Ming He, a mere seventh-stage Heaven Origin realm cultivator, could defeat him. Yet, he did not hold back, unleashing his full strength.

Even a lion must use its full might when facing a rabbit; caution was never a mistake.

But Gong Shu was no lion, and Ming He was no rabbit.

Ming He was the bright moon, her radiance sharp enough to pierce the heavens. In this world, no one could diminish her pride or overshadow her brilliance.

As long as the heavens endured, so would Ming He.

Gong Shu was a towering mountain, but she shattered him with a single stroke of her sword. He was a boundless sea, yet she parted his waves with the same ease.

The weight of the mountains and seas upheld the heavens and the earth, but the sharpness of her long sword feared nothing.

One sword to shatter myriad laws—this was the swordsmanship she believed in.

Ming He’s eyes gleamed with unyielding resolve. Against the crushing weight of the mountain, she stood firm, like a steadfast pine tree. Amidst the raging waves of the ocean, she soared like an eagle, her spirit unbroken.

The sword blade, sharp as a razor, sliced through the flowing clouds of the heavens, its fierce strike surpassing the overwhelming pressure of the royal side. The sword shadows crossed and danced, concealing beneath their dazzling display an undeniable chill of lethal intent emanating from all directions.

With a single thrust, she pierced Gong Shu’s right shoulder, then coldly and indifferently withdrew her sword, splattering the once noble face of the middle-aged man with blood as she continued to swing the sword tip.

It was a relentless obsession with life and death.

Gong Shu’s usually calm face finally showed signs of turmoil, fear flickering in his blood-stained eyes as the realization sank in that he might truly die under Ming He’s sword.

But she was merely a cultivator at the seventh stage of the Heaven Origin realm!

Was it because of the realm of sword spirit?

At the fifth stage of Swordsmanship, the unity of person and sword, where the sharp blade becomes alive, was indeed a terrifying level of power, capable of slaying those at the Human King realm on the battlefield of the heavens, yet it should not threaten a being of the Earth Emperor realm.

Was it the natural power of heaven and earth? Gong Shu’s gaze wavered with uncertainty.

Born Sword Bone, clear in sword heart, could indeed communicate with and control the forces of nature, but it should not be this astonishing.

Then there was only one possibility.

The Dao of Heaven was helping her!

As a spirit of the Dao on the Tianwu Continent, she could naturally wield power over the entire land, including the lives of its creatures.

Ming He was the recognized inheritor of the Dao, allowing her to overlook the gap in realms and pose a threat to him.

An inheritor of the Dao! The human race… what boldness and determination!

Gong Shu’s heart filled with bitterness; they already had a Mu Chen, how could they dare continue? The Dao had nearly destroyed the spirit and was willing to gamble with the old people of the Imperial Palace once more?

Did it fear the stakes of losing, risking its own scattering and leaving the world without spirit?

Gong Shu took a deep breath, his form trembling as he realized he was facing certain death. Yet, a final glimmer of hope remained inside him. As Ming He’s deadly long sword pierced his body, his eyes sharpened; he turned and shouted hoarsely towards the Ancient Clan’s seats: “Envoy, save me!”

His voice echoed together with the clear sound of Ming He’s Jing Ying Sword plunging into his heart, resonating through the heavens, as the winds and waves surged.

The royal side, capable of communicating with heaven and controlling the forces of nature, held an extraordinary status on the Tianwu Continent, so its fall was no small matter.

Even in collusion with alien races and the Black Wind Alliance, he was still a genuinely recognized human race Earth Emperor realm cultivator, so for a brief moment, the heavens fell silent in mourning for him. The next moment, the winds stirred and trees swayed, the clouds roiling, celebrating Ming He slicing through the Earth Emperor.

A mere traitor of the human race, how could that be more important than the identity of the inheritor of the Dao?

The blazing sun hung high, and the eagle cried out, its call resounding.

The whole of Canglan Mountain fell silent as they were shocked by Gong Shu’s last words.

He said: “Envoy, save me!”

There was only one Black Wind Alliance on the Tianwu Continent, and thus only one envoy.

Gong Shu’s words clearly revealed his identity, proving that he truly had colluded with the Black Wind Alliance, so half of Ming He’s accusations held truth.

But was it really only half? Did Gong Shu’s connection to the Black Wind Alliance mean that Ming He was innocent?

They had no conclusion; they merely looked at the sword cultivator standing with her sword on the arena, watching the blood dripping from the cold tip of her sharp long sword, and realized that sometimes, certain conclusions could be drawn without evidence.

Cultivators must first ask their own hearts.

At that moment, they reflected deeply, could they truly label her as a guardian of the demon race?

No, they could not!

Such brilliance was something only the human race could possess.

What virtue or ability do those savage and brutal demons possess?

With such radiant, piercing eyes, such an unstoppable sword light, and such a commanding presence that moves the heavens and the earth, how could they possibly not be of the human race!

This question had not been the first to arise in the hearts of the present cultivators; it was just that in the past at such moments, the Dao would send down its voice to obscure their perceptions and fleeting wisdom.

At this instant, the heavens and the earth fell silent, and no Dao voices echoed.

It watched as the chosen inheritor of the Dao shed her dust and shone brilliantly in the world, displaying her sharp brilliance without the need for concealment.

Ming He should have been the center of their gaze.

Like the bright moon surrounded by countless stars, she hung high above the Tianwu Continent, shining alongside the blazing sun.

“Bang!”

The sound of a body hitting the ground rang out, particularly clear in the still air.

Gong Shu still held the posture of turning to look at the seats of the Ancient Clan, his eyes still full of hope and expectation, with a hint of disbelief deep within.

He hoped that the envoy would save him, and he could hardly believe that Ming He had truly killed him.

The body of the royal side was protected by a defensive aura. He knew that Ming He, having comprehended the realm of sword spirit, could break through his defenses, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.

So fast that he didn’t have a final moment to react, he simply watched as the chilling sword shadows filled his vision, piercing through his flesh and blood.

Ming He’s gaze remained calm as she gently withdrew her sword and turned around, filled with a sense of disbelief and confusion.

The Dao has spirit, creating momentum for her.

She had sensed this subtly when she underwent transformation in the Zichan Cave, enough to gather fragmented information regarding the slight plans of the Imperial Palace through the Dao. But even so, the might of the royal side was decidedly formidable.

With the Dao standing behind her, she was indeed undefeated on the Tianwu Continent; however, that did not mean she could easily take a life, especially that of Gong Shu at the Earth Emperor realm.

If he were to resist to the death, even if she could ultimately kill him, it would still come at a cost.

What surprised her was that, merely showing signs of defeat, Gong Shu had given up all hope of resistance, relying instead on the actions of others, effectively handing his life over to someone else.

Was this the strength of an Earth Emperor realm powerful ally? Could someone like him truly become the Vice Sect Master of the Shanhai Sect?

Certainly, it wasn’t just a coincidence.

Ming He raised her gaze to glance at the peak of the mountain, as if she could see the young man standing there through the layers of clouds. Their eyes met; Ming He’s gaze was deep and enigmatic, while the young man’s eyes were warm and smiling.

She withdrew her gaze, her heart slightly stirred, as she observed the shocked expressions of the surrounding cultivators. She stepped lightly and leaped into the air on the arena, the Blue Sea Sword now in her hand, her entire being like a sword slicing through the sky, heading toward the seats of the Ancient Clan with an edge of brilliance.

The biting sword intent instilled fear deep within the cultivators.

In such fear, they should have trembled, at a loss for what to do.

However, the disciples of the Ancient Clan were not like that.

They looked at the long sword, so near at hand, with calm gazes, and the moment their toes touched the ground, they soared hundreds of miles away, escaping the range covered by the sword with a speed as if they had been prepared for this, as if it had long been planned.

They all moved, creating an empty space where they had once been densely packed, and the one who stayed still became the focal point of everyone’s sight.

That was a disciple with his head lowered, his breath trembling, as if he were terrified beyond measure.

Yet Ming He showed no concern; the Jing Ying Sword advanced with chilling light, the Blue Sea Sword was thrown from her hand, sealing off all possible routes of escape, ascending to the sky and diving into the earth, leaving no path to flee.

Thus, that person’s identity could hardly remain concealed.

The envoy of the Black Wind Alliance, Yóu Lìng.

He remained motionless, standing there with his head bowed.

The Jing Ying Sword flashed through the wind and clouds, piercing his body in an instant.

Yet, no blood spilled.

Dust swirled and scattered under the gentle breeze of heaven and earth, leaving Ming He entirely untouched.

Having chosen Ming He, she naturally had to give her all; after all, she could not bear the consequences of a second spiritual destruction.

Ming He felt no disappointment when her sword missed its mark; her expression remained calm and unshaken.

After all, that man was Yóu Lìng, once chosen by the Dao and Mu Chen as the inheritor.

"Ming He!" A low, hoarse voice echoed from above, laden with deep resentment—it was unmistakably Yóu Lìng’s voice.

Ming He lifted her gaze and saw a figure clad in black clothes, wearing a black wolf mask, standing on the arena platform. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with bitter reluctance.

He still clung to his unwillingness, standing in the spotlight with a slightly disheveled demeanor.

He was looking at Ming He, but not just at her; his gaze also fell upon many others.

Those people, perhaps to him, could still be called old acquaintances.

Witnesses to his fall from the pride of the Dao to a puppet of the alien race.

"You still haven’t fallen into darkness as I wished," he said, his voice tinged with an indescribable disappointment, yet his lips curved into a faint smile.

Ming He saw clearly that the smile was genuine.

What a contradictory person!

He clearly wanted her to fall into darkness, yet he felt joy because she had not; he knew that as long as she lived, most of his schemes would fail, yet he had not ordered Gong Shu to take her life.

Yóu Lìng was unaware of the Imperial Palace’s schemes, so at that time, Gong Shu could have truly killed her.

At least, that was how it seemed to Yóu Lìng.

Indeed, in the desolate Northern Wilderness, everyone believed Liu Yu had come to kill her, while Gong Shu had come to save her.

Yet, the truth was entirely the opposite.

It was a matter of the heart.

Her heart told her that the fierce-eyed, grim-faced Liu Yu bore no murderous intent toward her, while Gong Shu, with his gentle gaze and serene aura, had shown murderous intent toward her several times.

Gong Shu, colluding with the Black Wind Alliance, naturally obeyed Yóu Lìng’s commands.

"You should know that I will never conform to your wishes, nor will I ever be like you," Ming He declared.

You are a being of the Tianwu Continent, while I am not; you have an entire Soul Clan behind you, while I have none; you are drawn to that prince of the alien race, inherently opposed to the human race, while my heart points only toward Qin Clan’s Qin Chu Yi.

Thus, even though we stand together as enemies of the world, abandoned by the human race, we can never be the same.

Some people, no matter how similar, can never truly align.

Ming He said nothing, but her eyes conveyed this meaning.

One stood high above, while the other gazed upward at the sky—two contrasting demeanors, inverted.

Yóu Lìng, though standing high, exuded a sense of helplessness, while Ming He, standing below, radiated the world’s grandeur.

"Because you will never be me," Yóu Lìng said, turning away from Ming He and lifting his head to gaze at the young man atop the mountain summit, his eyes filled with pain.

"If it were you, filled with hope believing you had found a savior, only to discover he was the mastermind orchestrating everything;

If it were you, knowing full well that your words spoke the truth, yet being silenced by them, all under the pretense of the righteousness of the human race;

If it were you, surviving against all odds to save your kin, only to emerge into a world of ruins, where the belated demonic cultivators of the human race pluck out hearts and discard them into a mass grave, how would you hold onto your original resolve?"

"Your enemies are the schemes of the Imperial Palace, paths paved with blood yet sparing the populace from despair. My enemies are the harshness of the world, rivers of blood, and mountains of corpses."

"We were never the same!"

Through the dense mist, he could almost see the boy trembling at the mountain’s peak.

What good is regret? His clan, his heart, and his initial aspirations were ultimately buried in that dark abyss, echoing with the cries of crows.

From the moment the prince found him, he was merely Yóu Lìng, just her puppet.

"I told you I had prepared a grand gift for you and the human race; I came here to deliver it," he said, a smile curling on his lips, "But now, I suppose you have given me a gift in return, haven’t you?"

He was no fool; observing the current situation, he naturally understood that he had his strategies, and the human race had theirs.

He intended to use Ming He as a decoy to ensnare the Imperial Palace and the heroes of the five regions in one fell swoop, aiming to dismantle the absolute formation of heaven and earth, allowing the alien race to infiltrate the Tianwu Continent unimpeded and claim it entirely.

The human race also sought to obliterate their years of efforts in smuggling the alien race through the five regions’ formation, purge the alien race and human race traitors, and expose the spies and informants lurking within the sects and Ancient Clans, restoring purity to the world.

This would enable the formidable human cultivators, who valiantly fought on the battlefield of the heavens, to be free from worries, and allow the human race’s prodigies to train without fear, no longer wary of the shadows behind them.

Moreover, they compelled the Dao to recognize Ming He as the inheritor, the young leader of the human race, the human race’s fortune, and the battlefield of the heavens.

What a multifaceted victory it would be!

The human race remains as it was in those days, and the Imperial Palace remains as meticulous as ever.

Regrettably, he still lost this time.

A bitter taste lingered on Yóu Lìng’s lips; he was not entirely unaware, he simply chose not to wait any longer.

He wanted to stake everything on one final gamble.

To lose was merely to be buried beneath heaven and earth.

In truth, he found little meaning in life, especially after encountering Ming He.

Yet, seeing Ming He in such a state, he harbored no regrets, no remorse for not having killed her.

The Tianwu Continent still belongs to the human race, but the human race would no longer include him.

Even the label of "human race traitor," he no longer desired.

"You must have pieced together their identities by now, haven’t you? The Black Wind Alliance’s forbidden formation on Canglan Mountain must have been dismantled by you, right?"

Yóu Lìng chuckled softly, retrieving a key-like object that emitted a faint glow from his pocket; seeing it unresponsive, he thought to himself, as expected, and casually tossed it aside, where it tumbled down the mountainside with the mist.

"That is the key to activate the formation," a formation master recognized the object and murmured.

The key to activate the formation, as its name implies, is the key to unlock the grand formation.

No wonder he always felt something amiss about this mountain; it turned out the heavenly forbidden formation had been established and then temporarily disrupted. Possessing such skill, only the formation master of the Imperial Palace could have accomplished this.

"I fear battles have already erupted across the five regions," Yóu Lìng continued.

He had orchestrated the alien race’s full-scale assault, intending to link the formation he had laid out for years after breaching the city, hoping to draw the prince and the alien army into the Tianwu Continent.

Fortunately, the prince had not yet entered.

"Are you not going to make a move?" Yóu Lìng gazed at Ming He with a smile in her eyes, her eagerness barely contained.

"Let’s act now," Ming He replied in the same composed tone, her eyes icy as they swept across the surroundings.

Canglan Mountain lay in silence; no one spoke, no one moved.

Ming He remained still.

The boy’s voice echoed once more from the mountain peak, "By the order of the young leader."

As she spoke, the next moment, Canglan Mountain erupted with a thunderous cry, "By the order of the young leader!"

Some cultivators wore expressions of confusion, others of terror, while some stood resolute, cutting down those who hesitated, their eyes filled with wariness.

The other cultivators’ expressions shifted dramatically. They tore off their outer robes, revealing black clothes beneath, standing back to back, their faces blank but their eyes betraying deep-seated fear: "Envoy, act now!"

From what they had heard, it seemed the forbidden formation prepared by the envoy had been shattered by the human race, but what did it matter?

This was Yóu Lìng, the envoy of the Black Wind Alliance, the prince’s most trusted human race traitor—how could she have only this one trick?

"It’s futile," Yóu Lìng said lightly, standing motionless on the stage, her gaze tinged with a faint trace of pity.

"Yóu Lìng, are you planning to betray us for the human race?"

"Envoy, save us!"

"Envoy, if you stand by and do nothing, the prince will not spare you!"

"Yóu Lìng, I always knew your loyalty to the prince was a lie!"

The voices of the black-clothed men rose and fell, some cursing, some pleading, some threatening, all desperate to escape with their lives.

But Yóu Lìng paid them no heed, her gaze indifferent as they found no escape, their heads severed by the prepared human cultivators and the white-robed Nine Heavens Guard, blood spilling in all directions.

She remained on the stage, her expression unreadable. Ming He had not struck her down, and no other cultivator dared to step onto the stage.

So she stood there, a spectator.

For in this world, only Ming He could kill her.

The slaughter on Canglan Mountain continued, and the five regions of the Tianwu Continent fared no better.

On this day, the alien race suddenly amassed into a vast army, launching frenzied assaults on the human race’s key cities, their force as relentless as fire, their roars louder than thunder.

Yet the human race showed no fear.

The armored guards fought in formation, their faces resolute, their spears unstoppable, their battle array shaking the heavens and earth, leveraging the advantages of time, terrain, and unity to overwhelm the alien race, shifting from defense to offense.

Some armored guards or cultivators turned their blades against their comrades. Each time, white-robed Nine Heavens Guards descended like avenging deities, coldly ending those lives.

The battle raged not only on Canglan Mountain but also in the cities, sects, and clans across the five regions.

The Nine Heavens Guards were few, and though spread across the five regions, they could not save every cultivator betrayed by their allies. Yet the human race traitors were countless, lurking everywhere.

At such moments, a streak of sword energy would streak from the heavens, intercepting the fatal blow at the critical moment, giving the targeted cultivator time to react.

Later, cultivators from various regions claimed that after slaying the traitors, they would glimpse a white figure high in the clouds, standing tall as a pine tree.

Perhaps not the same figure each time, but always with the same peerless grace.

That flowing white robe, radiant as the bright moon, belonged to the Nine Heavens Pavilion.

The straightest figure among them was the finest.

They speculated it must be the leader of the Nine Heavens Pavilion.

Meanwhile, on the frontlines, many young prodigies led rogue cultivators of the human race, shining brilliantly and sweeping through the battlefield.

There was a woman in white, her features exquisitely beautiful, wielding a long sword, a little black beast perched on her shoulder;

And a woman in black, her face fierce, gripping a blood-stained dagger, her presence menacing yet powerful, cutting through swathes of aliens, easing the burden on the city guards.

There were many more like them.

On this day, the Tianwu Continent underwent a monumental transformation.