Chapter 184
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
You can buy coins here to unlock advanced chapters: https://gravitytales.com/coins-purchase-page/
Chapter 184: Heart of Asura
Ming He nodded and stepped forward, the blue hem of her robe fluttering in the night as she walked alongside the Demon Lord, who was clad in white.
Mu Xuan Ye lowered her head, her expression inscrutable, with blood staining her lips. After a moment of hesitation, she picked up the black cat from the ground and silently followed behind the two.
Outside the hall, the moonlight waned, and in the vast, ink-like silence, a faint glimmer appeared on the distant horizon, resembling the last darkness before dawn.
“Boom!”
Almost the instant they stepped out of the Left Envoy’s palace, a deafening crash erupted outside the Shura Hall, and in a flash, the sound reverberated throughout the land of the demon race.
Ming He and Mo Xiao exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting a shared concern and worry, a mutual attachment to those they held dear.
Without a word, they moved in unison, the blue and white figures cutting through the heavy night, arriving in an instant at the source of the sound—hundreds of miles beyond the Shura Hall, in the western outskirts of Mo City, where the city walls stood.
Tall, ancient trees cast dappled shadows in the moonlight, swaying gently in the breeze, their dense black fog enveloping the area where they connected.
Clad in red, Qin Chu Yi stood amidst the black fog, accompanied by the skeletal army with white bones and green eyes, while a shadowy figure loomed on the distant treetops.
Farther away, ripples caused by the array flags stirred the air, purple light spreading outwards for miles, forcefully and resolutely binding the world’s freedom as if it were nearly unbreakable.
The formation patterns seemed to target a specific entity. Thus, Ming He swiftly navigated through, treading lightly on the treetop branches, almost flying to land beside Qin Chu Yi.
With slightly uneven breath, she raised her gaze to Qin Chu Yi, a gentle smile naturally curving her lips, her eyes sparkling like stars upon seeing her: “Senior Sister.”
“Hmm.” Qin Chu Yi smiled lightly, her lips curving up, observing Mo Xiao beside Ming He, who had now approached Nineteen in Black with an even deeper smile, intertwining her fingers with Ming He: “I’m fine.”
Under the moonlight, her smile was undeniably tender, her gaze deep and lingering like a clear spring, possessing a captivating allure.
The wind lifted her dark hair, making Qin Chu Yi resemble a spirit wandering through a sea of flowers under the moon, each breath felt like a tug on Ming He’s heart, pulling her completely.
Even though this sea of flowers was black.
Stars sparkled in Ming He’s eyes, mirroring Qin Chu Yi’s gaze. She glanced at Mo Xiao, who had shed her proud demeanor like a tail-wagging puppy beside the Demon Lord, and quietly asked Qin Chu Yi, “Senior Sister, what is happening here?”
Warm breath brushed against her ear, making Qin Chu Yi feel a slight tickle. She tilted her head slightly to glance at Ming He and replied with a smile: “I encountered Friend Nineteen in the Shura Hall, and I plan to find Right Envoy Zhou Yi with her.”
The Imperial Palace conspired with Mo Xiao to capture Mu Xuan Ye and Zhou Yi, aiming for Mo Xiao to truly control the entire demon race and join forces on the battlefield of the heavens to resist the alien race.
Capturing, of course, meant that Mo Xiao would mark them with the Asura Blood Mark, gaining true control over their life and death.
“Zhou Yi is a demon race cultivator skilled in puppet techniques. His puppets are numerous, including skeletons with green eyes, soaring eagles, and ground-dwelling moles, which allowed him to obtain news early and escape from the Shura Hall.”
“Nineteen and I pursued him here, and after I slowed him down, Friend Nineteen set up a formation to confine this area, temporarily trapping him.”
“However, Zhou Yi refuses to yield, choosing to be sacrificed in battle rather than let Mo Xiao mark him with the Asura Blood Mark. The skeletal army has surrounded us, and he commands the puppets to self-destruct, attempting to take us down with him.”
Qin Chu Yi lowered her gaze, revealing a hint of helplessness.
It was not a silence born of being at a loss, but rather a reflection on Zhou Yi’s intelligence, a contempt from the clever Young Master of the Ancient Clan for the so-called Right Envoy of the demon race’s… lofty arrogance.
The skeletal army was indeed formidable; after being slain by her Chi Li sword, they would turn into black fog and reform their bodies, almost like an endless cycle of eternal power.
But what was the use of that?
Before the true gap in strength, all schemes and calculations were meaningless.
Qin Chu Yi was not Ming He, who had just stepped into the Wind Master Realm in the Blood God Wasteland; she was a cultivator of the Earth Emperor Realm. Nineteen was also not Ji Wu Xu at that time, with low cultivation and suppressed methods.
As the Right Envoy of the demon race, Zhou Yi’s cultivation barely broke through the Earth Emperor Realm. Even at his best, he couldn’t compete with Ming He, who had unleashed all her abilities; he was certainly no match for Qin Chu Yi alone.
With his lower cultivation than Qin Chu Yi, the puppets he created could not breach Qin Chu Yi’s defenses; the notion of consuming spiritual energy and mutual destruction was merely the desperate struggle of a dying man, ineffective and foolish.
Qin Chu Yi felt a sense of helplessness. She could easily kill Zhou Yi, but she couldn’t compel him to willingly accept the Asura Blood Mark from Mo Xiao, nor could she ensure his full commitment on the battlefield of the heavens.
Unlike Mu Xuan Ye, Zhou Yi mastered puppet techniques, commanding numerous puppets with his soul. His soul power far surpassed Mu Xuan Ye’s, and his cultivation level was significantly higher than Mo Xiao’s, making him an unpredictable variable. Qin Chu Yi dared not risk Mo Xiao attempting to subdue him.
This helplessness stemmed from Zhou Yi’s genuine fearlessness of death and his refusal to compromise his pride.
Was the Right Envoy of the demon race truly so unyielding that pride and dignity outweighed all else?
Qin Chu Yi pondered this as she grasped Ming He’s hand and leapt to the treetops, aligning herself with the distant, shadowy figure. Her gaze was deep, exuding a profound and potent murderous intent.
Ming He also lifted her gaze. From a distance, she easily pierced through the haze; Zhou Yi was clad in a dark blue scholar’s robe, his face refined, reminiscent of a cultured scholar from the mortal realm who stirred elegance with his brush and ink.
Such attire, yet symbolizing slaughter, darkness, and silence, belonged to the lofty Right Envoy of the demon race. How intriguing.
Zhou Yi was also observing them.
He knew escape was impossible today; what could he do?
A thin layer of sweat coated his forehead. He was far from the fearless, unyielding man he claimed to be.
He simply refused to submit to the young Mo Xiao.
Indeed, the strong seek strength; he looked down on Mo Xiao—just that simple reason.
At that moment, Mu Xuan Ye appeared in Zhou Yi’s sight, cradling the black cat and moving with a ghostly grace.
In the dark night, she wore a dark red robe, exuding a strange, blood-colored eeriness.
She stepped lightly over several branches and floated down behind Mo Xiao, glancing silently at Nineteen before looking up, her gaze obscure as she regarded the intertwined hands on the treetops, bowing her head in silence.
Zhou Yi’s pupils narrowed, a chill spreading from his feet to his entire body. That was—the Asura Blood Mark!
Proud as Mu Xuan Ye, cold as Mu Xuan Ye, bloodthirsty as Mu Xuan Ye—she surrendered to Mo Xiao.
And it seemed she did so willingly.
He couldn’t understand.
But he didn’t want to bow his head or die.
So the scholar in the long robe turned his eyes, an absurd idea hazily rising within him.
He briefly commanded the puppet army to halt their advance and attack. Then he leapt down lightly from the branches, landing in front of Mo Xiao. He spoke slowly and gently, “Mo Xiao, I want to make a deal with you.”
Facing the young Demon Lord’s teasing gaze, Zhou Yi calmly stated, “Let’s fight. If you win, I will be at your command. If you lose, you give me back my freedom.”
His reasoning was undeniably shameless, as he was a cultivator at the Earth Emperor Realm, while Mo Xiao, no matter how gifted, was still very young.
She was merely at the peak of the Heaven Origin realm, with just a thin layer of distance from the Human King stage, yet had not yet broken through that boundary. The gap in cultivation was indeed significant.
Mo Xiao, however, raised an eyebrow, intrigue flickering in her eyes as she lightly glared at Zhou Yi, signaling him to finish speaking; she knew he wasn’t done.
If it were just a straightforward fight, no one would think that the peak of the Heaven Origin realm could defeat Zhou Yi at the Earth Emperor Realm, after all, she wasn’t Ming He and didn’t have the power of the celestial laws to aid her.
“I will only use my puppets to duel with you. If my puppets lose their ability to attack, even if you win, it counts.” Zhou Yi straightened his body, suppressing his inner unease, and softly completed his condition.
This was the excuse he had come up with to escape in the first place.
He glanced at Mu Xuan Ye, thinking to himself: Luckily, I practice puppet techniques.
Zhou Yi paused and looked at Mo Xiao for the first time, seriously appraising the young Demon Lord before speaking, “If you want to capture me, at least offer something impressive that can truly captivate me, right?”
“If you cannot defeat my puppets and only rely on external forces from the human race to capture me, I would rather die than yield.”
Zhou Yi spoke these words.
Once, he had been terrified of death, but now, as he gazed upon the sea of green-eyed puppets behind him, a complex and indescribable emotion welled up within him. These were his creations, puppets to which he had granted life.
If Mo Xiao couldn’t even overcome these puppets, how could she possibly command him?
It seemed utterly unreasonable.
If that were the case, death no longer appeared so fearsome.
Mo Xiao smiled slowly, her eyes lifting to meet Ming He’s gaze. A soft, tender light flickered in her eyes as she spoke lightly, “If I defeat these puppets, will that suffice?”
Her confidence was palpable. Zhou Yi, however, showed no hesitation, replying firmly, “Yes.”
“Good.” Mo Xiao released Nineteen’s hand and reached out to smooth the furrowed brow of the girl in black, her voice so gentle it was almost tender. “Sister Nineteen, wait for me a moment.”
As she spoke, her eyes narrowed at Zhou Yi, a sharp glint flashing within them. She leaped into the heart of the black fog, standing resolute against the dark, green-eyed skeletal puppets. Extending her pale palm, she gripped a small black flag and charged forward.
That small black flag—
Ming He’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she turned to Qin Chu Yi, her voice barely containing her excitement. “Senior Sister, is that Nineteen’s array flag?”
She recalled her first encounter with the cold formation master at Zichan Cave, who had held a small black flag to set up a formation.
Later, she learned that sword cultivators possessed their life’s flying sword, while formation masters wielded their life’s array flag, a manifestation of their formation mastery.
Her curiosity was so evident that Qin Chu Yi couldn’t help but smile, pinching Ming He’s cheek and shaking her head. “The life’s array flag cannot leave its master’s side. How could it be given away?”
Facing Ming He’s increasingly eager gaze, she sighed softly and leaned closer, whispering, “When Nineteen was young, she accidentally entered Shura Hall. That array flag is dark and faded, its power long diminished. It must be the one she left behind back then.”
Of that history, Qin Chu Yi knew only fragments. She had heard that the Young Master of Sword Pavilion had vanished for a month while researching space gate formations, only to return covered in wounds. The elders of Sword Pavilion had forbidden him from pursuing formation mastery ever again.
If not for Ming He’s sudden rise, Nineteen might never have truly abandoned the sword path.
“Mo Xiao must have refined the black array flag Nineteen left behind into her own life’s spiritual artifact,” Qin Chu Yi murmured, her expression distant.
Below the treetops, Nineteen stared at the black flag, lost in thought. Her gaze lingered on Mo Xiao, surrounded by the black fog, and her mind drifted to a memory from long ago—a girl in white, struggling amidst blood and thorns, when Nineteen had accidentally entered Shura Hall while researching space gate formations.
That array flag—had it not only survived but also become the life’s spiritual artifact of the great Demon Lord?
She sighed softly, her eyes fixed on the battle within the black fog.
The black array flag expanded, sweeping away the black fog as the girl in white moved through it like pure, untouched snow, cleansing the filth of the mortal world, her presence starkly at odds with her identity as a member of the demon race.
Mo Xiao was indeed extraordinary. She had slain many of the green-eyed skeletal puppets and nearly wiped out the current wave.
Yet, the black fog continued to reform, and the puppet army was inherently undefeated against opponents of lesser cultivation than their master.
It seemed she was on the brink of failure.
Zhou Yi stood atop the treetops, watching Mo Xiao below, his lips devoid of any smile. He was reluctant to admit it, but his resolve was wavering.
No one understood the strength of the puppet army better than he did, and for the first time, he truly grasped the power of the young Demon Lord.
He could not match her cunning and methods, but he had always underestimated Mo Xiao’s strength.
Until now, when a thought had clearly crossed his mind:
Given time, she would undoubtedly astonish the entire demon race, becoming a legendary Demon Lord.
Zhou Yi even felt that serving such a Demon Lord would not be shameful.
At that moment, Mo Xiao seemed to sense his thoughts. She raised her head, a smile playing on her lips.
Though she stood below, in a position of looking up, Zhou Yi felt as though he were the one beneath, bearing the weight of the Demon Lord’s majesty.
“Young Master, lend me your strength,” Mo Xiao’s clear voice carried through the air to Ming He’s ears. Ming He looked over in confusion, only to see the girl in white forming an intricate, ancient gesture with her hands. A brilliant light erupted from her, and the white-hot starry curtain engulfed the dark fog.
Something flew out of Ming He’s storage ring, as if guided by an unseen force, and landed in Mo Xiao’s palm.
In an instant, the green-eyed skeletal puppets, which had been clawing and swaying, froze as if time itself had paused.
The next moment, Zhou Yi’s puppet army bowed low, kneeling before Mo Xiao in a posture of submission, as devout as worshippers.
The girl in white, her black hair flowing, stood at the center of the world’s attention, where all knelt in reverence. She cast a gaze of near devotion toward Nineteen, as though she were her most faithful follower.
As the skies cleared, a golden sun rose beyond the clouds, scattering its light across the earth.
It illuminated Ming He and Qin Chu Yi standing side by side in the treetops and brightened the silent figure of Mu Xuan Ye below. The black cat nestled in her arms let out a soft meow, a sound that spoke of tranquility amidst the stillness of time.
The light also revealed the gentle curve of Mo Xiao’s lips, radiating a profound, heartfelt warmth.
Nineteen felt her emotions surge as she met Mo Xiao’s pure gaze, her own lips curving into a smile.
Mo Xiao then flashed a dazzling smile, haughty and commanding, as she turned to Zhou Yi with a look that said, “Right Envoy, you’ve lost.”
The Right Envoy said nothing. He simply stared, wide-eyed, at the black round stone in Mo Xiao’s palm, his body frozen in place. After a long moment, he stammered out four trembling words: “Heart of Shura!”
That was the Heart of Shura.
Had Mo Xiao inherited the Shura legacy?
The Demon Lord of the demon race, the girl in white standing before him, was their true Lord!
At that moment, Zhou Yi bowed his head in submission, his heart yielding like that of a devoted follower.
