Chapter 192
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Chapter 192: Conclusion of the Main Text
"Clang!"
The sound of the cauldron shattering was deep and resonant, unleashing a force so vast and overwhelming that, though not as terrifying as before, it was still beyond what Ming He and the battlefield of the heavens could withstand.
The black cauldron broke apart, its fragments shimmering with iridescent light as they scattered. Just as the terrifying killing intent was about to engulf Ming He, the shards suddenly coalesced into a figure amidst the roaring winds.
That figure, pure and white as snow, stood out starkly against the blood-soaked sky. With delicate features and an aura of purity, it was unmistakably someone Ming He had encountered before.
The second young master of the Jiang Clan, Jiang An.
Born excluded from the Spiritual Path, Jiang An had devoted himself to the Soul Path.
Now, he stood clad in a spotless white robe, his demeanor reminiscent of his first appearance at the Merchants’ Guild auction in Tianwu City. The young man, once bold and fearless in his red attire, now exuded a quiet resolve.
Ming He struggled to breathe, propping herself up and discarding the shattered Xuanyuan Sword. She looked up and met Jiang An’s bright, determined gaze: "The Vast Ancient Cauldron is an ancient artifact forged from the power of Bodhi beings, born of the Soul Ancestor."
The Vast Ancient Realm had dissipated, and the last remnants of life and power from the final soul cultivator merged with the Vast Ancient Cauldron, unleashing its ultimate attack.
This was a killing move that embodied the essence of the Bodhi beings.
Such a move demanded the sacrifice of all the soul cultivator’s soul power and life force, crafted with their very flesh and blood.
Now, as the battlefield of the heavens reached its climax, the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader was nearing exhaustion, making this the perfect moment.
Jiang An turned slowly, his back straight as he faced Ming He, his fists clenched. His gaze flickered briefly as it passed over a pale, beautiful woman below, but his resolve hardened, and his eyes grew fierce with determination.
The Vast Ancient Realm was a supreme secret realm created by the Soul Ancestor, infused with his blood essence. The Vast Ancient Cauldron lay at its heart, attainable only through the Forging Stage, and Jiang An was the last pure soul cultivator in existence.
This must have been the Soul Ancestor’s final gift to the human race.
By shattering the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s power with the killing move forged from the Bodhi beings, Ming He could strike the final blow, securing victory for the human race.
With this thought, Jiang An’s lips curved into a faint smile, his last smile blooming against the vast expanse of heaven and earth. He closed his eyes slowly, reluctantly.
His body began to dissolve, starting from the edges of his fluttering white robes. Starlight scattered like dust, and his form merged into the void, transforming into a crescent-shaped sword of light. It shot toward the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader, carrying the power of the Bodhi beings.
Ming He sat up, leaning on the remnants of her Soul Sword, watching as the faint starlight pierced the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s chest. A burst of sparks erupted, then faded, leaving no trace of soul power behind.
Jiang An and the killing move born of the power of a million Bodhi beings vanished quietly into the world, leaving only a ripple of silence in their wake.
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader, his ancient brocade robe tattered and his body battered, stood tall and unmoving in the sky. His cold, bloodthirsty gaze swept downward. Though grievously wounded, he still had the strength to fight.
Was this the invincibility of an Emperor realm powerful ally? Could they truly endure any wound and remain unyielding?
Ming He clenched her numb hand, her flesh and blood scattered as a testament to her injuries. Her eyes burned with defiance and refusal to accept defeat.
After sacrificing so much, to lose and die now—how could she accept it?
The last remnants of soul power in her Sea of Souls churned wildly as she raised her trembling hand, summoning the Ghostly Sword. Its tip glowed with a faint blue light, like ghostly fire, blending into the endless darkness.
"Go!"
Ming He screamed with the last of her strength. The slender, delicate Soul Sword shot across the sky, its blade vibrating with icy energy as it wrapped around the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s wrist. Then, under the dark laser of his gaze, it disintegrated into nothingness.
Ming He bowed her head, squeezing out the last drop of blood from her body. The pain of her soul tearing apart came in relentless waves, dimming the light in her eyes.
They had truly reached the end.
Out of options, out of strength.
Yet the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader still stood above, wielding the power of life and death.
He gazed at the distant, desolate figure of Ming He, a faint smile returning to his lips as the turmoil in his heart began to subside.
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader, his form unsteady, spat out a mouthful of dark, crimson blood. Descending from the clouds, he stood at the same height as Ming He atop the ancient pavilion. With a scornful glance at Ming He, he turned his attention to Nineteen.
The woman clad in black had abandoned her stance, now slumped weakly against Mo Xiao. Every inch of her body radiated utter exhaustion, yet her fingers continued to move, weaving the intricate formation incantations.
Her hands, pale and bloodstained, bore countless small, painful wounds. Though the pain must have been unbearable, it did not deter her from her task.
In the distance, the array flags fluttered as the Floating Life Formation persisted, sustaining Ming He’s faint spark of life. Like a flickering candle in the wind, her tenacity shone through the darkness.
"These insignificant ants are indeed formidable," the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader mused. With a flick of his fingers, he conjured a wisp of dark energy, sending it toward the array flags that stood at the edges of the heavens and earth.
The dark energy was feeble, barely matching the spiritual energy of a Human King stage cultivator. Under normal circumstances, it would never have breached the formation patterns.
But this was no ordinary moment. The battlefield was a crucible of life and death, where every ounce of strength was spent, leaving no reserves.
The energy struck the array flags, and the black banners ceased their ascent. Like decaying wood, they fell silently into the Blood River, their power instantly consumed, merging black with crimson and shadow.
Beneath the ancient pavilion, Nineteen, seated cross-legged and leaning against Mo Xiao, felt her vitality drain away. Demonic energy and formation mastery surged violently through her organs, forcing a muffled groan from her lips. Her fingers dug into Mo Xiao’s arm, drawing blood in a moment of sheer agony.
The Floating Life Formation was intrinsically tied to Li Fusheng’s vitality and heart meridian. As long as the formation master lived, the formation endured; if the formation shattered, the master would perish.
The Floating Life Formation and Li Fusheng were one and the same—Nineteen.
Mo Xiao, her white robes stained with blood, gazed coldly ahead, her teeth clenched in silence. She channeled her remaining life force and demonic energy into Nineteen without hesitation, even at the cost of her own life.
She would not stand by and watch Nineteen nearly die before her eyes again.
If death was inevitable, let her be the first to fall.
With the Floating Life Formation broken, the Earth Emperor Realm experts and Human King stage cultivators of the human race fared no better.
The vast battlefield of the heavens was now cloaked in the shadow of death.
Vitality ebbed like a receding tide, draining from the cultivators inch by inch. The blood-soaked world resembled a living hell, with no trace of light to be found amidst the chaos.
Ming He looked down at Nineteen. The woman, once cold and stern, now wore a softened expression. Even at the brink of despair, her eyes shimmered with starlight, radiating an unspoken brightness and… trust.
Did she still believe Ming He could defeat the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader?
Ming He’s heart quivered. She doubted herself, yet Nineteen’s faith in her remained unshaken.
The intensity in Nineteen’s gaze burned with such fervor that it transformed her belief into something akin to devotion.
It was a pure, unwavering trust, one that left no room for doubt.
And it wasn’t just Nineteen.
There was Mo Xiao, Mu Xuan Ye, Ji Wu Xu, Lou Qing Shang, Mu Nan Zhi, Bai Mengjiao, Zhan Qing Yi…
And nearby, Qin Chu Yi.
Qin Chu Yi leaned against the eaves of the ancient pavilion, her chin resting on her hand. Her bright eyes met Ming He’s with a gentle smile, her affection and trust bringing a rare calm to the chaos of the battlefield.
Ming He felt disoriented, her spirit adrift under the weight of such a fervent gaze. Her focus lingered on those hopeful eyes as her body lost its strength.
She collapsed onto the pavilion’s roof, her right hand brushing against something sharp. Blood began to seep from the wound.
This was—
Ming He looked down at the sharp object and froze.
This was a black fragment, a shard that had fallen from the shattered Vast Ancient Cauldron. For reasons unknown, this piece did not vanish into the dust but instead landed atop the ancient pavilion, right beside her.
Instinctively, she picked up the fragment. It was black like a stone, shimmering with a faint yet unwavering light, as if even the destruction of the heavens could not extinguish its delicate glow.
The wind brushed past, causing it to sway gently, yet it carried the momentum of a great blaze.
It reminded her of the colors that danced in Nineteen’s eyes when she looked at her.
Ming He was momentarily lost in thought. She shifted her left hand and caught sight of another golden fragment in her peripheral vision.
It was a piece of the Star Lock, also glowing faintly, its light reminiscent of the swaying beauty she had first seen upon entering Zichan Cave.
Before the Star Lock had recognized its master, she had held the spiritual artifact in her hands, her arms scorched black and filled with sharp pain, as the artifact itself rejected anything foreign.
Without its acknowledgment, everything was perceived as an enemy.
A fragment of the Star Lock.
A fragment of the Vast Ancient Cauldron.
The power of a million Bodhi Beings.
Suddenly, Ming He lifted her gaze, a bright light flashing in her eyes.
As she turned her head, scanning the battlefield of the heavens inch by inch, she saw pairs of eyes among the throngs of people that seemed eternal and indestructible, their depths filled with fierce brilliance, like flickering flames in the darkness.
Within those flames burned trust and hope.
Within those flames resided the power of faith.
The power of a million Bodhi Beings.
Ming He murmured this phrase softly, raising her head to look at the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader. The middle-aged man’s dignified face bore a wicked smile as he began to form the final killing move with his fingertips, intending to obliterate her from this world.
The dark energy descended sharply through time and space, yet at that moment, Ming He closed her eyes, a faint smile curling on her lips, and deep within her was a clarity of understanding and a sense of assured victory.
Heavenly Dao inheritance, inheritor of the World of Martial Arts, young leader of the human race.
They all said she was the hope of the human race, the future of the human race, the chosen one most likely to end this bloody chaos after thousands of years, the morning star hanging high in the clouds.
Embracing the stars of the heavens, standing side by side with the sun and moon atop the mountains.
Since she held so many titles and honors, perhaps the name Ming He was the center of the world.
If she was the center of the world, then she could perhaps be a bit bolder.
For example, using the power of the entire world to counter the deadly killing move of the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader.
The World of Martial Arts belonged to the human race; it was not only the realm of the human race but also the home of all living beings in Tianwu.
This was not just her struggle against the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader.
This was the decisive battle between the World of Martial Arts and the Tian Yan world.
The power of the entire world.
Ming He silently repeated these seven words in her heart. The instant her eyes opened, they shone brightly enough to pierce through the heavens and earth.
Her right hand rose slightly, and the fragments of the Vast Ancient Cauldron and the Star Lock were casually tossed into the air, coalescing into the most dazzling light.
The Power of Manifestation, a single thought transformed into a world.
Turning the unreal into the real was the special skill of a soul cultivator.
Holding the sword for so long, Ming He had nearly forgotten that even though she was not a pure soul cultivator, she had still practiced soul mastery.
She had even cultivated the ancient techniques of the Soul Clan—the Nine-Character True Words.
This was not her battle alone; it was a fight for all living beings in the World of Martial Arts.
Beneath the Emperor realm, everyone was like ants.
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader regarded them all as ants, but who said ants could not shake the heavens?
If one or two could not do it, what about three or four? What about thousands upon thousands?
In that moment, Ming He raised her right hand, pointing it like a sword, and as she acted on her newfound understanding, something deeply rooted in her heart crumbled to dust.
The Zichan Cave hung high above the battlefield, overshadowing everything, with a world beneath the dark shadows that saw no sunlight.
As the dark energy fell, Ming He’s sword energy had yet to take form, but a faint blue light radiated from her, followed by a dragon-shaped seal.
The blue smoke trailing from the seal resembled a dragon, a blue dragon.
The dragon in Dong Jian Ping’s arms and the sparkling eyes of the creature in the blood pool suddenly lit up; that blue dragon was the Qinglong, the foremost among the ancient four divine beasts, which had fought alongside Sword Master on the battlefield.
The smoky blue dragon flicked its tail, severing the dark energy.
The human cultivators, in a daze, recalled that the Qinglong Emperor Seal, bestowed upon the young leader of the human race by Lord Fu Yao of the Imperial Palace, had indeed merged with the essence of the Qinglong.
But hadn’t the Qinglong Emperor Seal lost all its spirit over these thousands of years of war, becoming merely a symbol of status and dignity?
How had Ming He achieved this?
Ming He was unaware of the cultivators’ doubts and had no time to care. She still kept her eyes closed, silently reciting the phrase "Power of Manifestation," as her exhausted Sea of Souls operated at its peak.
“Those who engage in battle, all take your positions!”
She repeatedly whispered the Nine-Character True Words in her heart, thinking that since she was the center of the world, the world should align with her thoughts.
She wanted to harness the power of the entire Tianwu Continent, wishing for all souls of Tianwu to see her as a beacon of faith, willingly offering their strength and soul power.
“Boom!”
At that moment, the heavens and earth of the Tianwu Continent reached a peak of commotion; the winds and clouds surged, waves roared, and even the sun, moon, and stars seemed to sing praises.
Ming He opened her lips, and the cultivators on the battlefield of the heavens and the beings of the Tianwu Continent clearly heard her words: “The alien Tian Yan Tribe invades our world. All beings of Tianwu, lend your strength to drive them away!”
“I am Ming He, and I ask all of you to lend me your power to cut through the obstacles of the world and bring forth clarity to the mountains and rivers.”
“Please join me to confront the Emperor!”
Ming He’s voice soared across the vast distances, echoing through the two realms.
She opened her eyes, and the bone book of the Nine-Character True Words floated gracefully beside her.
The Life and Death Soul Ring silently wrapped around her wrist, and the moment it connected with the bone book of the Soul Clan, a continuous stream of soul power burst forth, merging into her depleted Sea of Souls.
Following closely was the bone book of the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array, its ancient aura enveloping the swaying body of the sword cultivator.
Ming He gradually straightened her posture, her fingers together, and a magnificent sword energy spread throughout the world, with the sword shadows appearing and vanishing, seemingly everywhere; in all directions, this was her domain.
All seven swords had shattered.
At that moment, Ming He did not hold a sword; yet the sharpness of the sword energy surpassed any moment before.
This was a technique that condensed the lifetime of knowledge from a sword cultivator.
Without a sword, one can surpass the power of those who wield one.
The formless sword technique marked Ming He’s bold new step in her Swordsmanship realm.
This was her own Sixth Realm of Swordsmanship, known as the Sword World.
She had actually employed this realm and technique once before.
That time, her opponent was the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader, though merely his avatar.
With the might of the human race’s battle formation concentrated at her sword tip, she had sliced through the royal defenses and pierced his heart, leading to his demise.
Back then, Ming He’s grasp and execution of the Sword World were still rudimentary, relying almost entirely on instinct.
Her Sword World could only envelop the small space of Ye Ke’s team, with negligible power at her disposal.
Now, however, everything was different.
Now, her Sword World aimed to encompass all places where beings of the World of Martial Arts existed, and the power she sought to wield would sweep across the battlefield of the heavens and the Tianwu Continent.
At that moment, many things glowed brightly on Ming He.
The white light of the Mermaid Pearl shone forth, representing the power of the mermaid clan.
Bai Mengjiao, with her blue hair and blue eyes, sat cross-legged in a pool of blood, her face pale, yet her gaze toward Ming He shimmered with a wet brilliance, as if an unseen voice was resonating with her spirit.
That voice asked her: “The Tianwu Continent is in peril; are you willing to offer your strength? Do you wish to become a figure of great prominence, to drive away the alien invaders and protect your home?”
Did it even need to be asked?
Bai Mengjiao nodded without hesitation, even though she knew her exhausted spiritual ocean contained not one trace of spiritual energy.
The spiritual energy of cultivators below the Human King stage was too weak to traverse the vast void to gather at Ming He’s sword tip, but she still held on to hope and trust and gave all she had.
She looked at Ming He, unaware of how bright her eyes appeared, as if she were gazing at her faith from an equal perspective.
The Phoenix Feather ignited in bright flames, representing the power of the Phoenix Clan.
The blue glow of dragon scales rippled, symbolizing the power of the dragon clan.
The Soul Fox Pendant floated in the air, its warm jade-like body shining brilliantly, representing the power of the demon race.
The color of the Asura Heart appeared as inky black, with an awe-inspiring presence, indicating the power of the demon race.
The little beast Chirp Chirp cheerfully nodded and offered the last piece of auspicious strength from the world’s last Pixiu.
The Four-direction Compass hung upside down, connecting the power of formation mastery and the energies of heaven and earth.
The image of the Star Lock appeared in the air as the winds and clouds surged around, with the sun, moon, stars, and forces of nature all flooding into that Sword World.
Turning the unreal into the real, the imagined was the wish born from faith, while the real was the power birthed from that faith.
This power of faith arose because of Ming He, but was born to protect the Tianwu Continent.
This is what was recorded in ancient texts as the true "Power of Manifestation."
Lastly, the image of The Vast Ancient Cauldron emerged, representing the power of a million Bodhi Beings.
It was the strength of beings on the Tianwu Continent who had yet to break through to the Human King stage and had not stepped onto the battlefield of the heavens.
Ming He stood atop the ancient pavilion, gripping the heart sword that existed in the void. Her wrist trembled slightly as she wielded the overwhelming power that felt as if it would burst her body apart.
Fortunately, in addition to possessing the Clear Heart of the Sword and the attributes of acquired sword bones, she also carried the vast bloodline power of the Ancient Fiends, representing a vast and accommodating strength akin to the ocean containing countless rivers.
Her blood-colored hem fluttered, as that sword force cut through the black fog and obstacles, shattering all dark energy, and directly struck the heart of the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader.
The clan leader’s expression finally changed drastically as he was propelled backward, falling heavily into the blood pool like a kite with a broken string, crashing down and creating a deep pit.
He propped himself up, coughed up blood, and appeared utterly disheveled. The intangible pride of the emperor was completely shattered.
All his ambitions of universal conquest and dominating the heavens were pierced by her sword, leaving only the anxiety of despair and the essential fear and terror at the brink of death.
“Ants!”
“Ha!”
Ming He descended from the top of the ancient pavilion, still stained with blood, though her wounds seemed to have vanished. At this moment, she was enveloped in a brilliant starlight, her eyes narrowed in comfort and tranquility.
As the starlight brushed against her, Nineteen coughed gently, feeling the burning pain in her meridians gradually easing.
The power of faith requires cooperation from both sides: one must offer, and the other must accept. To accept such overwhelming faith bestows the power to reshape the world, certainly sufficient to protect those who give of their strength.
Ming He’s gaze was clear as she looked down upon the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader in the blood pool, her demeanor cold and her brow elevated: “Who says ants cannot shake the heavens?”
She repeated it, bringing her fingers together to raise the sword in her heart once more.
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader, enveloped by such a sharp Sword World, had nowhere to escape, as despair squirmed in his heart.
He lowered his head, silently calling for the forces of the Tian Yan Tribe.
Even though he knew it would likely be in vain, what if it worked?
The human race was currently gravely weakened, and the spiritual energy of cultivators had not yet recovered.
Even though Ming He’s Sword World loomed over the heavens with unmatched might, she was still merely a cultivator of the fifth layer of the Earth Emperor realm; no matter how powerful, she could not slaughter the entire Tian Yan Tribe army by herself.
The clan leader thought this way, hope blooming in his eyes, but was swiftly cut off by Ming He’s sword, severing his head cleanly. His eyes widened in shock, his lips curling into a frozen arc, and just like that, he lost the breath of life.
Ming He had achieved the impossible by slaying an emperor in the Earth Emperor realm!
However, this was not her glory alone.
This was not her lone battle; she simply acted as the sword bearer of the Tianwu Continent.
Thus, such glory should belong to all beings of the Tianwu.
Ming He thought this, and the past grievances melted away like smoke. She turned to face the approaching Tian Yan Tribe, marching with perfect cadence, and at that moment, her Dao heart became clear as she stepped into the Great Emperor realm.
