Chapter 153
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Chapter 153: Canglang Sword Dao
The clouds drifted pure as snow, and the blood-colored figure approached slowly, a remnant soul trailing crimson streaks across the white expanse.
The fiery clouds burned brightly, filling Ming He’s vision, impossible to overlook.
"I greet the young leader of the human race," the shattered, bloodied figure hovered above the steps, its head raised. Its hollow gaze swept across the Tianwu Continent beneath the Imperial Palace and the celestial platform, lingering briefly on Lou Qing Shang before meeting Ming He’s calm, indifferent eyes.
"Sword Demon," Ming He whispered the name, her dark eyes flickering with unease.
The figure before her was a blood-red specter, its body broken and scarred, yet unmistakably the same white-haired, fierce old man from Sword Demon Mountain. His aura, however, was sharper and more righteous than ever, the unmistakable mark of a sword cultivator.
Sword Demon Mu Chen, once the young leader of the human race.
The fallen young leader.
The Sword Demon whose existence was bound to Sword Demon Mountain.
But Sword Demon Mountain had crumbled, vanishing on the day she refined the Zichan Cave. The world no longer held a place for it.
She had assumed Sword Demon had perished with it.
Yet here he stood, and her surprise was mingled with a deeper, lingering confusion.
She thought of Zhan Qing Yi’s brief account of Mu Chen’s life, of the storms his name had stirred in the ancient texts of Qin Huang Mountain, of how he had once wielded the Xuanyuan Sword, carving a path of clarity through the chaos of the demon race and foreign tribes. Ming He’s gaze grew more complex.
Xin Ming Zhu, the Left Envoy of the demon race, was cunning and manipulative.
The royal family of the Shadow Clan served as puppets, ruling over much of the demon and shadow races.
A masterful scheme.
But Mu Chen had never been weak. He was the young leader of the human race, chosen by the Imperial Palace and the celestial laws from among countless prodigies, entrusted with the hopes of the future.
So why had he fallen into darkness?
And if he had fallen, how had he managed to pull back at the last moment, to turn the tide?
Even if that tide had been of his own making.
Ming He frowned.
"Fallen into darkness" sounded simple, but for the human race, cultivation was inseparable from the heart.
To fall into darkness was to shatter one’s heart, to abandon the path of cultivation and step into the abyss, forsaking both soul and body.
Those who walked the demonic path were driven by hatred and resentment.
Once fallen, a human cultivator could never reclaim their true self.
Yet Mu Chen was the first to defy this. Why?
And then there was Sword Demon Mountain.
As long as Sword Demon Mountain stood, Sword Demon Mu Chen endured, immortal in the world.
Even as a remnant soul, drifting in confusion, he persisted.
Because the Sword Demon lived, the celestial laws had spared his spirit. Now, with the birth of Senior Sister, with her own arrival, and with the grand ceremony of the young leader’s ascension underway, the world watched in awe.
The Northern Region had always been a barren wasteland, stretching from ancient times to the present, with few mountains or rivers to break its desolation.
But Sword Demon Mountain stood resolute in the depths of the Northern Wilderness.
What brought it into existence?
It was once the core territory of the demon race.
Ming He contemplated the intricate connections, her gaze fixed on the crimson figure before her. Her eyes brimmed with confusion, silently pleading for Sword Demon to offer her clarity.
The elderly man regarded her with a gentle gaze but shook his head, withholding the answers she sought. A faint smile played on his lips, tinged with both relief and regret. "The human race has already found a new young leader; my presence is no longer required."
"I came here solely to return the inherited memories of the young leader of the human race to the world." The world, in turn, would entrust them to you.
These memories were meant to be passed down from him, destined to lead the human race, to his disciple Qing Yue.
Yet, fate had its own cruel designs.
"In the end, she chose the identity of Qing Yue," Sword Demon murmured softly, his expression a blend of amusement and sorrow. Blood tears trickled from his eyes, splashing onto the clouds below, painting them in radiant hues.
"Then it is time for me to depart."
He bore the weight of his fate—no rebirth, his soul scattered, his name tarnished, and memories too painful to revisit.
"Seek He Lou Feng for the answers you seek."
With these words, the old man smiled faintly, his remnant soul dissolving into a dark light that merged with the Xuanyuan Sword in Ming He’s hand. The divine sword erupted in brilliance, its sword tip illuminating the heavens, casting shadows that stretched across the skies.
At that moment, the gentle breeze of the world ceased its trembling.
He Lou Feng? Who was that?
Ming He had no recollection of such a name.
She closed her eyes, feeling the surge of new memories—of the human race, the Imperial Palace, the young leader, and the foreign races. As she opened her eyes, a figure seemed to materialize before her.
A young man with black hair, clad in white, wielded a sword with a laugh as clear and serene as the waves of Canglang. He strode along the mighty shore of the Deep Sea, drawing his sword against the Shadow Strike, the sword tip meeting the towering waves, a single strike surpassing thousands.
Through the Canglang Sword Dao, he ascended to the highest peak, touching the heavens themselves.
The young man’s name was Mu Chen—the "Mu" signifying his aspiration for honor, the "Chen" embodying the sun, moon, and stars.
This image stood in stark contrast to the blood-soaked, violent ambition she associated with Sword Demon.
Ming He stared at the faint, righteous white figure in the void, her mind reeling. A startling thought flashed through her heart, like a shooting star streaking across a turbulent sea.
In that fleeting moment, she heard a deep, resonant voice echoing through the nine heavens.
"Shadow Guardian Mu Nan Zhi, pays homage to the young leader." The black figure, gripping a blood-stained dagger, stood to Ming He’s right, on the same step as Lou Qing Shang.
The woman’s face was fierce as she knelt on one knee, her demeanor calm and composed. A black thread in the void connected her to Ming He.
As the winds of the world stirred once more, Ming He ascended to the seventh level of the Human King stage in an instant, realizing that Mu Chen and Xin Ming Zhu had left behind descendants.
After the grand ceremony for the young leader’s ascension,
Ming He intercepted a young man in red attire on the path through the clouds, dozens of miles from the Imperial Palace. She appeared slightly flustered and awkward. "Young Master Jiang, this is your storage pouch."
She held a deep red storage pouch in her slender, fair fingers, her expression tinged with embarrassment.
This was the storage pouch she had taken from Jiang An after storming the Jiang Clan and ending his life.
As the second son of the Jiang Clan, Jiang An’s wealth and status were indeed extraordinary.
When she opened the storage pouch, she not only retrieved what she desired but also stumbled upon a trove of spirit stones, pills, and talismans, which later proved invaluable during her escape.
However, she had since learned that Jiang An was not a traitor to the human race but a shadowed member of the Nine Heavens Guard.
Though his cover was now blown because of her, she still felt compelled to return the storage pouch.
Unable to cultivate the Spiritual Path, Jiang An had been gifted this unique storage pouch by the Jiang Clan’s artifact masters, designed to function without spiritual energy.
As for its contents…
Ming He averted her gaze, masking her thoughts. As the young leader of the human race, she had access to the Imperial Palace’s vast resources, more than enough to compensate for any discrepancies.
"This storage pouch was originally intended for you," the young man in red attire remarked, his smile broadening as he observed Ming He’s reaction. "Every item within was chosen with you in mind."
After all, someone who couldn’t harness spiritual energy had no use for spirit stones, pills, or talismans.
"Surely, you’ve already guessed as much," Jiang An noted, his smile deepening as he watched Ming He secure the pouch without hesitation. His eyes sparkled with insight. "What is it that the young leader wishes to ask me?"
Are all disciples of the Ancient Clans so astute, so capable of reading others?
Ming He mused silently, her composure unshaken even as her intentions were laid bare—a skill she had honed to perfection.
Indeed, her visit wasn’t merely to return the storage pouch; she sought Jiang An to unravel her doubts.
"Young Master Jiang, forgive my forwardness, but I must inquire about the path you follow. Why that particular path?"
Despite his frail constitution barring him from the Spiritual Path, Jiang An was no ordinary man. He had glimpsed the expanse of the Great Path and chosen a different route.
His presence was both noble and gentle, marked by a certain detachment and clarity.
Could the path he tread be the one she suspected?
Ming He’s smile was light, her eyes clear yet veiling her curiosity, as if merely intrigued.
Jiang An nodded, unoffended, his gaze steady on Ming He as he revealed, "Soul Path."
The Soul Path—once the domain of Qing Yue.
Among the myriad paths, Soul Techniques were closely guarded. The Nine-Character True Words belonged to the Soul Clan, the Ghostly Sword hailed from the Domain Lord’s mansion in the Eastern Region, and the God-Breaking Spike was a legacy of the mermaid clan’s Bai Mengjiao.
Within the realm of Soul Techniques, there existed a hierarchy.
As part of the Four Great Ancient Clans, the Jiang Clan’s possession of Soul Path techniques was hardly surprising, given their ancient lineage.
Yet, as Ming He regarded him, she sensed a connection between his Soul Path cultivation and Yóu Lìng.
The Nine Heavens Guard of the Nine Heavens Pavilion had once been the human race’s covert operatives within the Black Wind Alliance.
Ming He pondered this but pressed no further. With a slight nod, she turned to depart.
The answer to her true query had been given.
Jiang An’s voice, clear and resonant, reached her from behind, imbued with an ethereal quality that seemed to transcend the clouds.
"I look forward to our next meeting, young leader," he said.
Ming He’s steps faltered.
To meet again.
Now at the seventh level of the Human King stage, she was soon bound for the battlefield of the heavens. As the young leader of the human race, her presence there was indispensable, and her return to the Tianwu Continent, uncertain.
After all, the young leader of the human race had gained unimaginable benefits and an unmatched status, which meant she had to pay the price and be ready for a lifetime of battles.
Ming He accepted this well.
But Jiang An’s path to cultivation had been severed.
Having taken the Death-like Pill from the Pill Palace, he had no hope of reaching the Human King realm in this lifetime. No matter which path he pursued, it would be the same.
Although she didn’t truly believe that Jiang An and Senior Brother Mu Qian would be confined by the phrase "severed path."
But Jiang An’s certainty when he spoke of looking forward to meeting again differed from the confidence with which Mu Qian claimed they would fight side by side.
The latter believed he could break through barriers to reach the Human King realm and ascend to the battlefield of the heavens.
The former did not share that optimism.
Soul mastery practitioners, Tianji Pavilion.
Ming He recalled these seven words while remembering the unmatched grace of the Canglang Sword Dao she had seen earlier at the Sky Dome Square. She smiled softly, turned, and vanished from Jiang An’s sight without asking further.
Jiang An paused, his brief smile now tinged with bitterness.
The clouds shrouded the world, the gentle breeze blew softly, and the moonlight shone brightly.
Ming He stood before the Tianwu Tablet, gazing seriously at this towering stone monument that represented the gates of the Tianwu Continent.
Her eyes swept down from the top, where three gilded characters glinted fiercely, showcasing boldness and sword energy that was almost too dazzling to look at. These letters stood at the pinnacle, surpassing all other names.
Li Xuantian, the name of the Sword Master.
As her gaze moved down, she saw many names that had appeared in ancient texts: Soul Ancestor Zuo Chang’an from the Soul Clan, King Bai Yun from the Mermaid Clan, Blade Emperor Xie Fei, Li Fusheng, Qin Huai Yuan…
At the very bottom was the name Li Fusheng.
This was not about strength, but merely the order of those who had entered the battlefield of the heavens.
Li Fusheng.
Ming He looked at those bold black characters that seemed to pierce through the stone tablet, her brow lowered without writing anything down, shifting her gaze instead to a white figure in the distance. This figure gazed back at her with a mix of tenderness and starlight.
That was her Senior Sister, Young Master Qin Chu Yi of the Qin Clan.
She smiled and walked over to stand beside the white figure, her eyes sparkling warmly, shedding the cold indifference of the young leader, "Senior Sister."
Ming He murmured softly, and in Qin Chu Yi’s gentle gaze, she pulled her into an embrace, feeling the warmth and softness that made her sigh.
"What’s wrong?" Qin Chu Yi reached out to smooth Ming He’s furrowed brow, her tone cool yet affectionate.
"I want to stay with you, Senior Sister, all the time." Ming He held Qin Chu Yi’s soft body tightly, starting to pout slightly, almost in a playful manner.
She still wore the azure robe of the young leader, with the beautiful landscape embroidered on it. The green dragon swayed with the breeze, and the flowing fabric still exhibited the unmatched grace of the young leader.
The Xuanyuan Sword hung at her waist, replacing the Jing Ying Sword’s position.
Yet, the composure of a sword cultivator was absent.
No one had expected the high and mighty young leader, shining in the Sky Dome Square, would show such a demeanor in front of her beloved.
All sharp edges were retracted. Ming He’s delicate face showed only grievance and reluctance. Her black eyes, resembling peach blossoms, held starlight, blinking and creating ripples, reflecting Qin Chu Yi’s exquisite appearance and the deep feelings that were no longer hidden.
Surrounded by longing and dependence.
As the young leader of the human race with the cultivation of the Human King stage at the seventh level, it was undeniable that she would ascend to the battlefield of the heavens.
But Qin Chu Yi had not yet broken through to the Human King stage.
She had not fully received the inheritance from the Ancient Emperor’s Tomb, so she could not stay with Ming He and needed to return to the Ancient Emperor’s Tomb.
The battle in Tianwu City was both a clever plan and a step for the Imperial Palace to shift Qin Chu Yi from the spotlight into the shadows.
This was because Qin Chu Yi was a brilliant talent of the human race, just like Ming He.
Ming He was the master of the Star Lock.
And Qin Chu Yi was the chosen heir of the Ancient Emperor’s Tomb.
The Black Wind Alliance had been relentlessly pursuing Qin Chu Yi for this very reason.
At that time, Ming He had not yet emerged, so the future of the human race rested on Qin Chu Yi’s shoulders.
The Ancient Emperor’s Tomb was a gathering place for the lingering souls of fallen emperors throughout history, much like the ancient palace beneath the Deep Sea in the Eastern Region.
It was also the resting place of the Soul Ancestor after death.
When an emperor perished, their place of enlightenment became a source of inheritance, allowing those who could act to return to the Tianwu Continent.
The Ancient Emperor’s Tomb existed as such a place.
The legacies of the emperors converged over time, giving rise to a tomb spirit.
This tomb spirit was born from the lingering souls of countless emperors, existing as a force akin to the spirits of heaven and earth.
On the day Qin Chu Yi was born, it surged with brilliance, even saving Feng Xin, who was frozen in an ice coffin at the time—a moment of fate in the unseen realm.
Apart from the Sword Master, who sacrificed himself to suppress the battlefield of the heavens, and the Soul Ancestor buried in the Deep Sea, all other fallen and transcended emperors were laid to rest here.
After thousands of years of exploration, the Imperial Palace finally discovered that this ancient tomb was a place of inheritance comparable to Zichan Cave.
The inheritance of emperors, of course, could forge the birth of an emperor.
Yet, on the Tianwu Continent and the battlefield of the heavens, it had been many years since a practitioner of the Great Emperor realm had emerged.
Neither the human race nor the alien races had one.
If the human race could produce an emperor, they would naturally be able to suppress the heavens.
Thus, the Imperial Palace aimed to help Qin Chu Yi accept the numerous inheritances from the Ancient Emperor and refine the Thousand Layers Spirit Mountain that arose from the Ancient Emperor’s Tomb, achieving the form of an emperor.
The Imperial Palace knew this, and the Black Wind Alliance was well aware of it as well.
So they needed to shift their focus from Qin Chu Yi and move her into the shadows.
The appearance of Kuang San in Tianwu City was the perfect catalyst.
A single move that achieved multiple goals—this was the result of the Imperial Palace’s powerful allies exhausting their efforts to divine fate while enduring the backlash, all to devise this intricate scheme.
Ming He was hope, and Qin Chu Yi was the future.
Of course, accepting the inheritance of the Ancient Emperor was also a perilous act, teetering on the edge of life and death.
During the time when Ming He was being hunted across the world, Qin Chu Yi was also struggling to survive in a life-and-death situation, enduring torment as if counting the droplets of water.
Qin Chu Yi could now stand before Ming He, having weathered the fiery crucible of merging the Ancient Emperor’s power within her. Yet, this was not something she felt the need to share with Ming He.
Seeing Ming He’s playful demeanor softened her heart, and she couldn’t help but lower her gaze and gently kiss Ming He’s neck. “I will quickly refine the inheritance and find you on the battlefield of the heavens,” she whispered.
To fight side by side—she intended to stand with Ming He.
She understood the situation on the battlefield of the heavens even better than Ming He did.
Even if it meant being sacrificed in battle, she would face it alongside Ming He.
Ming He nodded, feeling the ethereal and profound aura surrounding Qin Chu Yi, sensing vaguely that her Senior Sister’s strength might still surpass her own.
The Star Lock and the Ancient Emperor’s Tomb—she and Qin Chu Yi.
Even after breaking through to the seventh level of the Human King stage, she still needed to train diligently.
Otherwise, she would not be able to stand before her Senior Sister and fight alongside her.
After all, the gap between a Human King practitioner and an Earth Emperor practitioner was as vast as a chasm.
Ming He smiled brightly, her lips curving into a radiant grin. “I will wait for you on the battlefield of the heavens,” she said.
Fighting side by side, saving the world.
And then, establishing a contract with heaven and earth, declaring to all that they were Dao partners!
