Chapter 163
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Chapter 163: The Path Has No End
“Indeed, it is the Absolute Formation of Mist.”
The clear and smiling voice of a woman echoed from the heavens, piercing through the sudden storm and striking Nineteen’s heart like a tolling bell or a flash of lightning.
“Was it you who orchestrated this?” Nineteen, standing atop the ancient pavilion with the black array flag retracted, scanned her surroundings with anger, her gaze fixed on the ethereal space where sunlight and black fog intertwined. Her mind raced with countless thoughts as she clenched her fists, leaving deep blood marks in her palms.
“Of course, it was me,” the voice replied with a chuckle, brimming with unmistakable pride. “Who else could it be but this palace?”
Though the words were spoken calmly, they carried an undercurrent of arrogance and self-satisfaction.
Through the hazy clouds and vast emptiness, Ming He conjured an image of a radiant and confident figure in her mind.
She lifted her gaze to a point in the void aligned with Nineteen, suppressing the turbulence within her. Suddenly, she formed her fingers into a sword stance, and a surge of powerful sword energy streaked through the air like a lightning bolt, slicing through the clouds to reveal a pure white figure behind them.
“If you possess such pride, why hide in the shadows?” Ming He scoffed, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the white figure standing calmly in the void behind the mist.
The figure’s white robes flowed gracefully with the wind, her snow-white hair cascading like a silken curtain. Her pale complexion hinted at a long absence from daylight, yet her raised brows and sharp eyes exuded an air of indomitable spirit. Her vertical pupils, though closed, radiated an aura of imperial majesty.
With her hands clasped behind her back, she looked down at Ming He from above, her gaze distant and enigmatic. The corners of her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile, and her aura was as still as a stagnant pool—strange and unsettling.
Immeasurable depth, calm as an ancient well, and not to be trifled with.
Ming He felt a jolt in her chest as she met the woman’s slanted gaze. A sense of dread crept over her, as though she were being watched by a fierce beast, and a cold sweat broke out on her back.
“Since you wish to see me, here I am,” the woman said, holding an ivory white jade fan in her hand. Her long, elegant fingers swept over it, fanning it gently as she smiled like a blooming flower. “Now that we’ve met, are you satisfied, young leader?”
Ming He remained silent, tilting her head slightly and squinting at the woman as she silently calculated the odds of launching a surprise attack.
At that moment, a black figure emerged from behind the woman, standing silently at her side in a protective stance.
It was Wei Rou, the leader of the Alien Race Hunting Hall on the Tianwu Continent, the very person Qu Lingyun had gone out of her way to save.
She was also a member of the Tian Yan Tribe’s royal bloodline.
Ming He’s focus sharpened as she observed the two figures and the powerful auras lurking in the shadows. She steadied her breath and began circulating her spiritual energy, preparing herself for the impending battle.
“I have nothing more to say,” the white-haired woman said with a radiant smile, her jade fan swaying gently. She turned her attention to Nineteen. “I’ve long heard of the Sword Master of the human race. Today, I finally meet his descendant. Truly, the reputation is well-deserved.”
“I watched your performance from the void for quite some time. The Ancient Formation of Heaven—truly more magnificent than a tapestry of mountains and rivers.”
With one hand, she twirled her jade fan, creating a soft breeze, while with the other, she reached out to catch the sunlight filtering through. Her fingers glistened like crystal, enhancing her beauty as though illuminated by the moon.
Suddenly, she closed her hand, the shimmering sunlight shattering in her pale palm. She then lifted her gaze, her lips curving into a dazzling smile that, to Nineteen, seemed almost devilish. “The world within this formation is indeed wondrous, and the warmth of the human race’s sunlight is quite comforting.”
The royal bloodline of the Tian Yan Tribe is noble and unafraid of the sun’s scorching rays.
“But this palace is accustomed to darkness, to a world where one cannot see their own hand. So, it’s better to remain as I am.”
As the woman in white spoke, she bit her lip, a drop of blood falling into her palm. She then waved her hand, channeling her spiritual energy into her palm, and a dark, ink-like glow flashed briefly. In her left hand, she now held an array flag.
The corner of the flag fluttered in the wind, its fabric unfolding like rolling, winding mountains. It reflected a crystalline sheen in the bright sunlight, almost identical to the one Nineteen held.
Yet, while Nineteen’s flag was black, hers was white—a pure, unblemished white that matched the color of her robes.
Gripping the flagpole tightly, the drop of blood seeped through the seams and into the fabric. In an instant, the pristine white flag was stained with an eerie crimson, standing out starkly at the boundary between darkness and dawn.
The white-haired woman raised her hand and shook the flag. As if summoned from the heavens, a thick mist rolled in, swiftly engulfing the sunlight and plunging the world into shadow.
The black fog, so familiar it seemed etched into the very soul, once again dominated the heavens and the earth. It spread from the heights like a mountain wind, extinguishing the last vestiges of warmth, leaving behind only a narrow, blood-soaked realm where the mist itself seemed to drip with blood.
The Absolute Formation of Mist, a lethal technique that harnesses the fog, is powered by the Ancient Formation of Heaven. This formation is intrinsically linked to a single individual; as long as that person stands, so does the formation.
It gathers the despair from human hearts to form an impenetrable mist, which then envelops the sunlight. For the human race, what was once a guiding light transforms into a blazing inferno that consumes everything in its path, indiscriminate of friend or foe.
The Tian Yan Tribe’s strategy was clear: they manipulated human emotions, confident that she and Ming He would successfully deploy the Ancient Formation of Heaven. She had long been aware of the formation’s existence and was certain of their success.
This was a calculated move, using the Tian Yan Tribe’s formidable army as pawns, even at the cost of the Third Prince and several powerful allies at the Earth Emperor Realm.
Nineteen watched as the Third Prince, besieged by Dream Sea and the Demon Race, teetered on the edge of peril, his face pale and eyes closed. "You set this trap to ensnare me," she accused.
At that moment, the mist shrouded the sun and moon, the Star Lock retracted its remaining power into silence, and the scorching flames encircled the mist. The howling winds swept across the battlefield like a wildfire, consuming everything. Human cultivators, clad in heavy armor, could not stifle their screams, which were sharp and indistinct.
The heavy armor, tempered by the Phoenix’s blazing fire, once a bulwark for the heart, now merged with the black fog, evading the Tian Yan Tribe’s ambush, yet it had turned into a deadly weapon.
But if the armor were to fall, those at the Human King stage would be defenseless against the merciless winds that tore everything apart.
Not every human possessed the exceptional talents of Ming He and Nineteen, who were blessed with extraordinary gifts and protected by celestial treasures.
"Yes!" the woman laughed heartily. "It is indeed my design."
"I have long known that you bear the inheritance of the ancient formation; ever since Ming He stepped onto the battlefield of the heavens, I have known."
"With the aid of the Star Lock, transforming the battlefield with the power of the ancient formation, leading the human race to counter the unmatched offensive of the Tian Yan Tribe with a thunderous force, we could buy another thousand years for the human race to cultivate its talents."
"I am aware of all this."
She spoke deliberately, her smile tinged with a hint of the macabre: "By placing them in a dire situation, using an entire clan as a bargaining chip, this strategy to control the world is not solely a tactic possessed by the human race."
"Can’t the Young Master endure this?" The woman raised an eyebrow, her gaze tinged with a sinister red. "Didn’t you win handsomely in that game on Tianwu Continent?"
They won beautifully, yet she lost tragically!
It could be said that everything on her end was lost!
Years of planning, destroyed in an instant!
How could she remain calm in the face of such chaos?
This was merely another gamble in a game for her life.
"Save me, Fifth Prince!"
The Tian Yan Tribe ally, pressured to the brink by Dream Sea’s silver threads, screamed in agony from the scorching flames, rolling helplessly and discarding all semblance of power, begging for aid from the Woman in White.
"Fifth Princess! Fifth Princess, please save me!" The previously unruly young man looked at the Woman in White with pleading eyes, although darkness flickered in his gaze.
The brief dialogue between Nineteen and the Fifth Prince may have seemed like only a few words, but which member of the royal family is straightforward?
From their conversation, it wasn’t difficult for him to deduce that he had been used as a pawn by the usually inscrutable Fifth Princess.
How dare she treat him this way!
Once he returned, he would inform his father and ensure she faced consequences!
But for now, he needed to seek a way to escape, and so the Third Prince looked at the Fifth Prince with eyes full of desperation.
Seeing this, Dream Sea’s gaze flickered slightly, her fingers dancing on the silver threads that brushed against the Third Prince’s neck: "Withdraw now, and I will let him go."
Her words were directed toward the white-haired Tian Yan Tribe royal, the Fifth Prince.
The heavenly powers of the Tian Yan Tribe are unfathomable; letting the Third Prince go today would create a future threat.
But at this critical moment, how could they afford to think about the future?
“Fifth Princess, quickly tell them to step back and save my life!”
Facing death, the Tian Yan Tribe was far less composed than the human race, their desperation chilling to the bone.
The young man’s eyes were filled with terror and pleading.
“If you don’t step back, I’ll kill him,” Dream Sea said coldly.
“Go ahead, kill him!” came a careless voice from above.
Dream Sea’s expression darkened slightly.
Meanwhile, the Fifth Prince, standing high above, wore a brazen smile. “Third Brother, by now, the entire Tian Yan Tribe must know that I’ve used you as a pawn.”
“You are the greatest prodigy of the Tian Yan Tribe, while I was born with a useless Tian Yan eye. In the past, even a thousand of me would have met a fate worse than death, and my father would have made me suffer endlessly.”
“But now, things are different.”
She shook the array flag in her hand, its white and red hues shimmering. Her gaze was deep, her voice ringing clearly across the battlefield, as if deliberately meant for certain ears:
“The Ancient Formation of Heaven can pierce through the black fog, allowing the sun, moon, and stars to shine. It uses the forces of nature against the Tian Yan Tribe, leaving us utterly defenseless.”
“In the myriad worlds, the only formation that can rival the Ancient Formation of Heaven is the Absolute Formation of Mist.”
“Now that the Absolute Formation of Mist is in place, shrouding the stars of the heavens like a ruthless blade, the array flag is activated by my blood, and I alone am its master.”
“As long as I live, the formation stands; if I die, the formation falls!”
“If the Absolute Formation of Mist is broken, the Tian Yan Tribe will be forced to retreat from the battlefield of the heavens in an instant.”
“Even if you die here, even if my father rages, even if the entire Tian Yan Tribe comes after me, you won’t be able to kill me.”
“Because as long as the Myriad Races harbor ambitions for the Tianwu Continent, they must ensure my safety.”
“If you don’t believe me, feel free to test it.”
The Fifth Prince smiled brightly. “With silver threads in hand, I’ll do the same!”
As she spoke, she flicked her wrist, and a silver thread shot out like a streak of light, cutting through flames and fog to land on the Third Prince’s neck.
The thread fell, and blood spilled.
In front of everyone on the battlefield of the heavens, she killed her own brother without a change in expression, her smile unwavering.
Then she turned to Nineteen, whose eyes were stained with blood. “Does Young Master Fusheng have any countermeasures?”
Nineteen clenched her fists. The Left Envoy of the Demon Race, Dream Sea, was a beast from the Deep Sea, and her silver thread was a killing thread made real through the power of dreams. But the Fifth Prince’s silver thread was born of formation mastery.
By weaving the power of formations, she transformed intangible energy into a tangible blade—light as a feather yet sharp as a dagger.
Her mastery of formations seemed to surpass even that!
What a terrifying talent!
A bitter taste rose in Nineteen’s heart as she glanced down at Ming He, who was frowning, her blue clothes stained with blood from the relentless battles. Yet the woman’s eyes shone brightly, like stars that even the deepest darkness couldn’t obscure.
Nineteen felt a flicker of relief, her bitterness hardening into resolve.
The Tian Yan Tribe had extraordinary geniuses, but so did the human race!
They hadn’t lost yet.
There is still a chance to win!
“Yes,” Nineteen replied solemnly, meeting the Fifth Prince’s gaze that was half a challenge and half a calculation.
Becoming one with the formation, as long as she stood, the Absolute Formation of Mist stood tall, rivaling the Ancient Formation of Heaven.
Originally, there was no distinction between the two; it was only that the Fifth Prince had set an invisible array flag atop the ancient pavilion before her, merging the forces of all things into the Ancient Formation of Heaven, allowing him to gain the upper hand and transforming the battlefield of the heavens into a world within the Absolute Formation of Mist.
Even so, the Ancient Formation of Heaven still existed.
In their battle of formations, the skills of each formation master would be put to the test.
To break the formation, the only solution was to kill the Fifth Prince.
A fierce glint crossed Nineteen’s eyes as she glanced at Wei Rou’s position and shook her head. The powerful aura of the elite members of the Tian Yan Tribe had already reached them, but they remained hidden due to the formation seal’s power.
They hid to avoid injury.
But if the Fifth Prince encountered danger, they would have no choice.
Being injured and the battlefield of the heavens falling into the hands of the human race were two different matters.
Thus, the path of killing the master of the Absolute Formation of Mist was not feasible.
In that case, the only option left was to enhance the power of the Ancient Formation of Heaven.
One strength could overcome ten skills.
It was akin to Ming He’s sword breaking through myriad laws.
Strength was the eternal essence that could not be erased.
To unleash the Ancient Formation of Heaven to such a level was the result of her combining all her abilities, aided by the power of hundreds of Earth Emperors and the unique bloodlines and Star Power from Ming He.
How much more powerful could it become?
Naturally, there was more.
Nineteen chuckled lightly, her eyes clear as she gazed affectionately at the blazing sun beyond the mist that veiled her, slowly closing her eyes. Her aura surged with terrifying speed, rising to a great height, stirring storms of wind and clouds.
The searing flames that scorched the Heavy Armor vanished into thin air, dissipating like smoke, as the black fog intertwined with sunlight, as if a contest were unfolding.
Nineteen’s aura continued to climb, blood trickling from her lips onto her black robes, her face pale as paper, her eyes as bright as the moon.
Unable to borrow external forces to empower the grand formation, she had only her inner strength left.
The human race may lack the heavenly powers of the Tian Yan Tribe, but they possessed the method of blood sacrifice.
Sacrificing oneself to the heavens could exchange for eternal strength.
It could block a thousand troops.
It could reverse the situation and turn the tide.
The hundreds of Earth Emperors sitting cross-legged in the pavilion were stunned, each spitting out a mouthful of blood before resuming their seated meditation. Their auras surged, pouring through the vast emptiness into Nineteen’s body.
Blood gushed in the pavilion.
Their faces were pale, but their eyes sparkled like starlight.
It was simply a battle with no retreat.
Could the esteemed Earth Emperors not be as strong as two young Human Kings?
"Interesting!" the Fifth Prince murmured, "It’s a pity I no longer have the patience to continue this game."
Let everything, including the battlefield of the heavens and the Tianwu Continent, be annihilated!
A profound hatred burned in her eyes as silver threads once again danced in her hands, channeling the power of the Tian Yan Tribe into the array flags.
The radiant sunlight pressed down on the mist, yet it could not halt the encroaching fog from all directions.
Below, the human race’s armored guards clashed fiercely with the Tian Yan Tribe’s army. When their spears shattered, they fought on with bloodied fists, striking against the hardened bodies of the Tian Yan Tribe. Though trembling with pain, they gritted their teeth, refusing to retreat or falter, using their heads as weapons.
Killing eight hundred enemies, while sacrificing a thousand of their own!
Nineteen became a river of blood, her wounds dripping endlessly, piercing through the dense fog and falling onto the sea of blood, each drop echoing with a haunting clarity.
Ming He swung her sword in a backward arc, cleaving through an advancing member of the Tian Yan Tribe. Blood rained down, clouding her vision, but she paid it no mind.
Spotting an opening, she unleashed the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array into the heart of the Tian Yan Tribe’s forces. Her feet barely grazed the ground as she leaped, landing beside Nineteen. She reached out to steady her, pressing her right hand against a vital point and channeling the last remnants of Star Power into Nineteen’s heart.
"Nineteen," she whispered urgently, placing the array flag atop the ancient pavilion to shield Nineteen as she sat cross-legged. Ming He then focused her mind, summoning a pitch-black compass that hovered above Nineteen’s head, shielding her from the swirling black fog.
A low, resonant hum of the Great Path filled the air.
Sunlight refracted through the black fog, casting fragmented rays as the blazing sun continued its struggle against the oppressive mist.
The black compass was none other than the Four-direction Compass.
A royal grade artifact, forged by the Clan Ancestor of the Qin Clan, it gathered the righteous aura of the four directions, harnessed the fortune of heaven and earth, suppressed evil, and balanced yin and yang. It stood as a beacon of righteousness, akin to the Star Lock.
As the master of the Ancient Formation of Heaven, Nineteen had sacrificed herself, her spiritual energy drained entirely. Her mortal frame could not withstand the corruption, but with the Four-direction Compass guarding her, her life was momentarily preserved.
Beneath the shadow of the Four-direction Compass, Nineteen struggled for breath. In a fleeting moment of light, she grasped four small array flags.
She arranged them meticulously, following a precise pattern, and silently chanted the array mantra. A gentle breeze stirred, the bright moon vanished behind the mist, and the blazing sun was swallowed by darkness. The four array flags glowed with a white light, and from them emerged four spectral figures—Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise—the four ancient divine beasts. They surged forward, tearing through the ranks of the Tian Yan Tribe.
The pressure on the human race’s armored guards lessened slightly.
Ming He’s gaze sharpened as she recognized the Four Gods Array.
She had seen Nineteen wield this formation once before, in the ancient cave dwelling.
Back then, it had been used against Mu Xuan Ye.
Now, it was turned against the Tian Yan Tribe.
The power was incomparable.
Yet, Nineteen seemed to have no spiritual energy left.
Ming He glanced down at her own blood-streaked veins and rasped, "What do you need me to do?"
Though she stood guard beside Nineteen, her soul power surged violently as she invoked ancient methods of soul mastery.
The Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array, sustained by her sword spirit, remained unyielding. By infusing it with her soul power, she could control it from afar, cutting down the Tian Yan Tribe.
The remaining half of her soul power flowed into the Four-direction Compass above, shielding the now powerless Nineteen and the hundreds of Earth Emperor Realm experts within the pavilion.
At that moment, she was utterly spent, her spirit and body pushed to their limits.
Without a sword in hand and her soul power nearly depleted, she knew she could not stand idle.
Because Qin Huai Yuan and his companions were battered and bruised, they continued to battle against the Tian Yan Tribe.
Nineteen opened her eyes with great effort and looked at her, "If possible, help me delay He Lou Feng and disrupt the movement of her array flags."
She was willing to sacrifice herself, but who knew what other tricks that person might have up her sleeve?
At this moment, the chaotic skirmishes on the battlefield boiled down to the clash between the Ancient Formation of Heaven and the Absolute Formation of Mist.
Thus, if they could affect her, they might stand a chance to win.
Would the east wind overpower the west wind, or would the west wind prevail over the east? This was the decisive moment.
"That is the Fifth Prince," Nineteen added quietly, noticing Ming He’s blank expression, thinking she didn’t know who He Lou Feng was. "He Lou Feng? She is He Lou Feng! The Fifth Prince of the Tian Yan Tribe is named He Lou Feng!"
Ming He’s pupils narrowed slightly, realizing this was no time for overthinking, and she nodded solemnly, "Alright."
She turned and stepped into the void, heading toward the Tian Yan Tribe’s Fifth Prince, He Lou Feng. Wei Rou stood calmly in her path.
She had already repaid Qu Lingyun’s saving a life, so now it was time to repay He Lou Feng’s.
"Young leader, leave Wei Rou to us," Lou Qing Shang and Mu Nan Zhi emerged unexpectedly, one brandishing a sword, the other a blade, their movements creating a whirlwind as they charged at Wei Rou.
Lou Qing Shang and Mu Nan Zhi were both in the Earth Emperor Realm, while Wei Rou was a formidable opponent; the two had only recently ascended to the Human King level, thanks to their Contract with the Shadow Guardian, and should not have been a match for Wei Rou.
Yet, their blades moved in perfect harmony, locking Wei Rou in a relentless struggle.
As Ming He drew closer, He Lou Feng unexpectedly stopped manipulating the array flags and spoke with amusement, "With your soul power drained, your meridians scorched, and no sword in hand, what else can the famed young leader of the human race possibly do?"
A faint smile played on her lips, but her eyes were filled with deep scorn and mockery, as if saying, "A mere weakling dares to challenge the heavens?"
That look was eerily similar to the one Mu Xuan Ye had given her in the Zichan Cave.
Ming He remembered that moment and, for some reason, felt a strange urge to laugh.
In the Zichan Cave, she had grasped the sword intent of heaven and earth, summoned the starlight of the nine heavens, and earned the allegiance of the Star Lock. With the modest strength of a low-level cultivator, she had defeated Mu Xuan Ye.
What about now?
"On the Tianwu Continent, I once told Yóu Lìng, ‘You don’t understand swordsmanship,’" Ming He said with a radiant smile, gazing at He Lou Feng’s trembling form. "Now, I offer those same words to you."
"You don’t understand swordsmanship."
The woman in blue closed her eyes briefly, then opened them, her gaze shimmering with starlight, her aura razor-sharp and impossible to ignore.
Swordsmanship is the path of sharpness and brilliance.
Her swordsmanship allows all things to become swords.
And all things can become a path.
If all things can, then so can people.
At this moment, she became a sword.
A sword named "Ming He."
Sword energy was the beginning; sword intent, sword will, and sword domain followed.
The realm of sword spirit is the fifth level of swordsmanship.
But is there a sixth level?
That question had lingered in Ming He’s mind since she first understood the realm of sword spirit.
Only now did she vaguely grasp the answer.
She realized why swordsmanship had only five realms.
She understood.
There is no sixth realm of swordsmanship.
Sword cultivators who reach the fifth level embark on an endless journey beyond.
Among the Three Thousand Paths, swordsmanship reigns supreme.
From this moment on, her swordsmanship was truly one of a kind.
The Xuanyuan Sword trembled faintly at the heart of the Tian Yan Tribe’s army, its sword energy stretching three thousand miles.
In that instant, Ming He finally comprehended the Xuantian Sword Classic, which had eluded her for so long.
The ancient sword techniques passed down from the Sword Master were not mere techniques.
They were an understanding.
The sword domain enveloped the world around her.
Yet, that world was finite.
So, could a person, as a sword, encompass the entire world of the human race?
Ming He opened her star-bright eyes and slowly raised her sword finger.
