Chapter 191
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Chapter 191: Bodhi Beings
“Ants.”
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s icy gaze locked onto Ming He’s sword tip, his dark eyes swirling with a tempest of killing intent and rage. He glanced down at the deep stain marring his ancient brocade robe, his face contorting into a grotesque mask of fury.
“How dare a mere ant wound me?”
His voice dripped with scorn, laced with the indignation of a ruler whose authority had been defied. Yet beneath the surface, a tremor of shock and panic stirred—a secret he alone knew.
The Zichan Cave blotted out the sun and moon, casting the world into an abyss of shadows. Amidst the oppressive darkness, he stood tall, his every movement exuding the Emperor’s pressure, an invisible force that weighed heavily upon the heavens. His fists clenched, but under Ming He’s unwavering, luminous gaze, a flicker of vulnerability betrayed him.
Yes, a facade of strength masking inner frailty.
He was afraid, uneasy, and flustered.
Yet he was undeniably a practitioner of the Great Emperor realm, the pinnacle of existence in this world, the lofty clan leader of the Tian Yan Tribe.
What could he possibly fear?
Ming He lowered her head, blood spilling from her lips, the thick crimson soaking into her blue clothes. Her once-bound hair had come undone in the chaos of battle, cascading like a river of ink, some strands matted with blood and sweat, clinging to her pale cheeks. Her sword hand trembled, mangled and bloodied, her state a portrait of utter desolation.
Yet her eyes burned with an unyielding brilliance, outshining the combined radiance of the stars and sun.
For in this moment, the world was cloaked in darkness, veiled by a suffocating mist and the metallic tang of blood. Where was the dawn’s light now?
The wind whispered past, cool and damp against her skin.
Ming He narrowed her eyes, her gaze fixed on the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader standing nearby. Her eyes held a mix of curiosity and icy detachment.
Beside her, Qin Chu Yi stood resplendent in her vivid red attire, her expression weary from the prolonged battle, yet her eyes mirrored Ming He’s brilliance, glimmering with a hint of moisture and exhilaration.
To slay her foe on the battlefield of the heavens had been her driving purpose in cultivation.
Now, she stood closer to that goal than ever before.
Qin Chu Yi flicked her sword tip, the Chi Li sword tracing a graceful arc through the air, its blade slicing through the oppressive atmosphere with lethal precision.
Ming He followed suit, the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array surging to life once more. Sword light danced through the spatial nodes, weaving an intricate tapestry of illusion and reality within the dense mist. The blade’s presence emerged like a hidden dagger, radiating an aura of deadly peril.
“Clang!”
The clash of sword against iron palm sent a cascade of sparks into the air.
Qin Chu Yi twisted away from the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s right palm, blood seeping through her robes as sweat blurred her vision.
Yet she pressed on, her steps a fluid dance imbued with the essence of the Dao, narrowly evading a barrage of killing moves. Her robes billowed in the dark wind as the Chi Li sword arced through the sky, its tip aimed unerringly at the enemy’s heart.
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s eyes narrowed, his right palm rising instinctively, its force vast and unrelenting, seeking to crush Qin Chu Yi with a single blow. But the sharp thrust of a long sword intercepted his momentum, halting his deadly strike.
The battle raged on, brutal and unyielding. This clash, which would determine the fate of countless lives, offered no respite—only the relentless pull of life and death.
As starlight pierced through the haze, Ming He bit her lip, the sharp pain anchoring her focus. Her hands moved in a flurry, weaving intricate and ancient sword techniques, each motion a step toward the precipice of life and death.
This palm strike was devastating.
In the life-or-death struggle of an Emperor Realm Practitioner, every move was formidable, but this one was the most lethal.
For Qin Chu Yi’s Chi Li sword was poised at the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s heart.
To attack the enemy was to save oneself. To survive, he had to kill Qin Chu Yi.
And so, this strike was aimed at Senior Sister. If she failed to withstand it, Senior Sister would surely perish.
Ming He’s thoughts stirred, and every inch of her meridians surged with the immense power that rose within her.
This power, driven by a fierce determination etched into her soul, urged her sword techniques to shift and accelerate, summoning the winds and clouds in an instant.
With her soul power heavily depleted, she felt an indifferent numbness in her mind; after the Jing Ying Sword severed a blow capable of splitting mountains, it fell into the center of the sword array, reflecting the cold blade with a pair of blood-colored, sharp eyes.
Unlike before when the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array encircled the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader, the seven swords now lined up in a row, flashing with piercing sword light.
The white light blazed fiercely, the golden light dazzled the eyes, and the blood-red light gleamed ominously. At Ming He’s command, one sword after another soared toward the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader, targeting his right wrist.
In that brief moment, it outshone the passage of millennia.
Qin Chu Yi’s Chi Li sword finally reached the heart of the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader, easily slicing through the exquisitely crafted ancient brocade robe worn by the imposing figure of the Emperor.
She tightened her grip on the sword, her spirit soaring, and beneath her gaze, a flicker of excitement transformed into a Bone-Chilling Cold and a torrent of sword energy. As her sword plunged into the gap, she faced the natural defenses of the Emperor Realm Practitioner with a bold and confident determination, teetering on the edge of a life-and-death moment.
In an instant, the defense shattered. The blade of the white sword pierced halfway into flesh and blood, accompanied by a roar that resonated through the heavens.
“Ah!”
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader let out a heart-wrenching scream, his entire body vibrating with spiritual energy, and the half-embedded Chi Li sword was forced out by the swirling air.
Qin Chu Yi and Ming He endured the overwhelming backlash, their bodies flying backward, their faces instantly drenched in blood, turning them into silhouettes of crimson within the blood-colored flames.
“Ha!”
“You two little ants are quite amusing.”
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader swayed unsteadily, grasping the white Chi Li sword in his hand. His gaze swept over the fallen Ming He and Qin Chu Yi, who struggled to rise, and he chuckled coldly before directing his attention to the spatial door covered by the pavilion around him.
Inside the pavilion, Nineteen in Black appeared in a dire state, blood-soaked and as pitiful as Ming He and Qin Chu Yi. Even behind him, Mo Xiao, Zhou Yi, and the puppet army struggled with their overwhelming demonic energy.
The human race was utterly devastated at this moment.
Two pivotal practitioners lay grievously wounded, their leader on the verge of collapse, infusing spiritual energy into the formation while risking the lives of the royal side. The Human King stage practitioners had lost the strength to stand, leaning and sitting in the muddy ground, streaming with blood.
Looking around revealed a scene of solemn tragedy, with flames of battle igniting and spirits enduring.
The Floating Life Formation remained unbroken, and the black array flags stood firm amidst the increasingly violent winds that howled, their defiant curves and echoes singing out an indomitable battle song.
Though the formation master was nearing the end of her strength, she could still maintain the formation, with half of her blood energy and demonic power left and one life remaining to compensate for the worn formation patterns.
As the Earth Emperor Realm infused life into the formation, if the formation fell, lives would be lost. Yet since the formation was unbroken and the master still lived, they could persist, still have the chance to fight boldly and invest all they had.
The Human King stage practitioner’s robes were drenched in blood, but what did it matter?
They had been surviving in the depths of boundless darkness filled with crimson hues, having witnessed the utmost shades of despair; now they sat in anticipation of dawn, with no retreat or despair in their hearts.
The final darkness before dawn was profound enough to instill fear, deep enough to send shivers through the soul. It was an overwhelming stillness, devoid of light.
Yet, everyone understood that if they could endure, the nightmare would eventually fade.
As for the two pivotal points in the formation—
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader sneered, watching as the blood-stained Qin Clan Young Master rose through the storm, pointing his finger like a sword, bending his wrist to snap the Chi Li sword, then facing Qin Chu Yi, who was spurting blood yet still intent on killing him, his heart filled with bitterness.
He had finally reached this point.
He had raised his views on the human race many times in his heart.
After learning about the recognition of the young leader of the human race and knowing that Ming He had stepped onto the battlefield of the heavens, and witnessing the standoff between the Ancient Realm and the Absolute Formation of Mist, he realized the Tian Yan Tribe was destined to lose.
The Tian Yan Tribe’s army, numb and relentless as a machine of slaughter, could not rival the human race’s united team, who could trust each other implicitly, standing shoulder to shoulder at a life-and-death moment. It was only natural for the Tian Yan Tribe to face defeat against such fiery passion.
The only way to reverse the tide of battle was for him to break through to the Great Emperor realm.
This was not an insurmountable task.
Long before Qin Chu Yi was born, he had already reached the peak of the Earth Emperor Realm. Other Earth Emperor Realm cultivators of the human race, their Dao hearts marred by past events, were unlikely to ever ascend to the Emperor realm in this lifetime. Thus, his burden was not as heavy as it might have seemed.
Yet, the human race was teeming with prodigies. In ancient times, there were the Sword Master and the Soul Ancestor; later, the Blade Emperor Xie Fei emerged, followed by Lord Fu Yao of the Imperial Palace, the formation master Qing Long, and the ancestral figure of Qin Huang Mountain, Qin Ling.
Among the younger generation, there were Mu Chen, Qu Lingyun, Qin Chu Yi, Li Fusheng…
And then there was Ming He.
This sword cultivator, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, had grown at an astonishing rate. Once a figure the Black Wind Alliance could have crushed with ease, she had, in just a few short years, traversed mountains and rivers to stand before him.
Her Dao heart was pure, and she carried the confidence and foundation to stride directly into the Emperor realm.
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader dared not gamble. He could not risk what she might become if given a few more years, nor could he predict how the world would shift.
The battlefield’s shifting tides left no room for complacency.
When the demon race’s puppet army joined the battlefield of the heavens, the Tian Yan Tribe’s advantage had already crumbled. He was left with no choice but to take a perilous gamble and force a breakthrough.
Fortunately, he succeeded. The Emperor’s pressure radiated from him, sweeping across the battlefield as he descended with an air of invincibility, like a deity descending, ruthless and brimming with a disdain that saw human lives as mere fodder.
Yet, his breakthrough was not without flaws. He could not fully utilize his Tian Yan eyes, and his spiritual energy was not at its peak—a minor imperfection.
Now, the human race’s strength and unyielding resolve had surpassed his expectations. No matter how highly he regarded them, the sheer force of their spirit was overwhelming.
That minor flaw could now become a fatal weakness.
Using his Tian Yan eyes would leave him severely injured and diminish his cultivation. Not only would it jeopardize his plans to invade the Tianwu Continent and conquer the Myriad Races, but it might also make it impossible to suppress the ambitious factions within his own tribe, threatening his position as clan leader.
But without using his Tian Yan eyes, he would not even be able to escape this battlefield.
The choice was clear.
The human race had backed him into a corner, leaving him no room for hesitation.
The human race!
He sighed softly, and in the next moment, his gaze sharpened.
For a fleeting instant, he recalled the life-and-death struggles of his past—cutting through the web of court intrigues and illusions to seize the throne.
He was the clan leader of the Tian Yan Tribe, a man who had fought his way through blood and chaos. This was just another battle.
Victory would bring boundless power and dominion; defeat would reduce him to black fog, dissipating into the void. It was a simple equation—what was there to fear?
"Humph!"
A faint, almost reckless smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He let the broken Chi Li sword fall from his hand, and in the next moment, his vertical pupils dilated. Dark energy surged forth, flooding the heavens and earth with a suffocating pressure that engulfed every corner of the battlefield.
Amidst this oppressive force, Qin Chu Yi’s white sword energy did not falter. Driven by her master’s desperate resolve, it surged forward, piercing through the outer turbulence, and with an aura of impending destruction, it shot straight toward her heart.
Ming He, struggling to rise from a pool of blood, witnessed this scene and felt her heart nearly shatter. Panic and confusion crashed over her like a tidal wave. She bit down on her bloodied lips and, driven by instinct, summoned the Star Lock, sending it flying toward the fray.
"Boom!"
A deafening roar threatened to tear the heavens apart.
In that moment, every cultivator on the battlefield turned their gaze toward the epicenter of the chaos.
There, an explosion of radiant starlight erupted, blazing like a meteor streaking across the sky. For a brief, breathtaking moment, the brilliance illuminated the entire world—but meteors, as always, are fleeting.
Therefore, after the brilliance faded, the star-shaped Star Lock hung in midair. Under the watchful eyes of the multitude, it shattered into metallic fragments, like a starry curtain descending to the earth, and the light returned to silence.
Heaven and earth were plunged back into darkness.
At that moment, Ming He soared up, catching the blood-drenched and wounded Qin Chu Yi, and stumbled onto the top of the ancient pavilion. Blood and the blue fabric of her robes fluttered gently as they reached the brink of despair.
The glimmer of hope seemed to appear only after the dawn they could not yet see.
The Star Lock had shattered.
The Chi Li sword had broken.
Qin Chu Yi was gravely wounded, and Ming He was utterly exhausted—did the human race still have any hope left?
The cultivators lowered their heads in silence, hastening to infuse spiritual energy into the Floating Life Formation. Some, even at the Human King stage, took it upon themselves to merge their own blood essence and vitality, their pale faces masking hearts of unyielding resolve.
The formation was vast and majestic, its array flags fluttering in the wind.
Qin Chu Yi’s life was sustained by the infusion of such dense spiritual energy, and the blood reversal caused by her shattered life’s flying sword momentarily stilled.
She reached out to touch Ming He’s hair, her face pale but her smile faint, her breath as thin as a thread, yet deep in her eyes still flickered a bright light: "Xiao He, don’t be afraid. In life and death, we are together."
Qin Chu Yi was now drenched in blood, as if she had been pulled from a sea of crimson.
Her robes were torn, her exposed skin painted with a hauntingly beautiful shade of red, yet her gaze burned with intensity, her eyes reflecting the figure of the sword cultivator, her emotions laid bare.
Ming He held her, her body trembling and stiff. As she met Qin Chu Yi’s gentle gaze, the fear and disorientation in her heart dissipated like mist, as if light had fallen upon her soul, dispelling all worries.
She nodded, carefully settling Qin Chu Yi down, her voice soft yet resolute: “Senior Sister, I’m not afraid.”
To live and die together was not just about her and her senior sister; it was about all their kin.
If the human race were to perish, they would perish together.
Perhaps, in the river of time, another Tianwu Continent, belonging to the human race, would rise?
With this thought, she straightened her posture, her veins bulging as she gripped the Xuanyuan Sword with slow, deliberate strength. The other six swords circled her, creating an aura of formidable power.
Ming He looked up, still at a lower vantage, meeting the lofty gaze of the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader above. The dark laser had been retracted, and he too looked down at her.
Their eyes locked, and Ming He narrowed hers, a faint smile curling at her lips.
As she had suspected, the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader seemed to be in a dire state as well.
The human race had suffered greatly, but he too was nearing his limit.
If that was the case, perhaps after her sacrifice in battle, there might still be hope for the human race.
The storm ceased its howling, and silence enveloped heaven and earth, the air thick with a suffocating stillness.
Ming He held her sword, her gaze unwavering as she faced him, neither retreating nor advancing.
The enemy remains still, so do I.
Neither she nor the human race was in any condition for a prolonged battle; the operation of the Floating Life Formation drained the energy of Nineteen and the other cultivators. Yet, who could say that the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader was not also expending his strength?
To find opportunity in the smallest details, to lie in wait amidst silence and solitude, patiently awaiting the right moment—this had always been Ming He’s strength.
The world grew so still that even the sound of a leaf falling into the blood below was amplified, mingling with the labored breaths and coughs of blood from the human cultivators—each moment stretched like an eternity.
Finally, after what felt like an age, as Ming He stood supported by her sword, the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader pressed his lips together and cast her a sidelong glance.
His Tian Yan eyes opened once more, and the dark laser surged forth, accompanied by a force that seemed capable of toppling mountains, its roar deafening, its power terrifying.
Such a killing move—
Ming He’s pupils contracted, the corners of her lips twitching but failing to form a full smile. She knew she could not withstand such a killing move.
Even if she understood that the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader was nearing his end, even if she believed that enduring this assault might turn the tide…
She could not hold on. Knowing the truth and calculating the odds were futile.
She could not withstand it; she was going to die!
In that critical moment, Ming He suddenly longed to look back at Qin Chu Yi, but she resisted the urge.
Instead, she raised the Xuanyuan Sword, twisting her wrist to unleash a grand sword technique. The sword intent blossomed like petals swirling in a forest, opening and closing with the natural rhythm of the Dao as she surged forward, like an ant trying to halt a chariot.
Then, faced with that overwhelming force, the Xuanyuan Sword shattered inch by inch, and she was engulfed in the chaotic torrent, the sword energy slicing across her cheek.
As her blood nearly ran dry, she collapsed heavily onto the top of the ancient pavilion.
Yet the murderous intent continued its relentless advance.
In that timeless instant, a small, square black cauldron flew out from Ming He’s storage ring.
Delicate and unassuming, it gathered the force of destruction, spinning before Ming He before slowly cracking and shattering from its mouth.
That was—the Vast Ancient Cauldron!
The spiritual artifact forged by Jiang An with the power of a million Bodhi beings, born in the Vast Ancient Realm.
