Chapter 38

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Chapter 38: Recognition of the Star Lock

"I know," Ming He smiled, casting aside all fear and apprehension. "I also know that you’re not here for me, but for the Star Lock."

"You truly are clever," Mu Xuan Ye remarked, pleased with her response. "Since you understand, you should realize that only by taking your life will this spiritual artifact fully belong to me."

The woman with blood-red eyes and white hair descended gracefully from above. The black cat let out a lazy meow, showing no intention of moving. "Are you prepared for death?" she asked softly, her tone almost courteous.

"Not at all," Ming He replied with a bold laugh as she drew her sword. The sword light flashed brighter than the sun in the sky. "Preparing for death is something I could never do, even if I lived a thousand lifetimes."

"Friend, shall we proceed?" Ming He casually addressed the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator, who was clad entirely in black.

The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator paused, momentarily stunned. After a moment, he realized, "Are you saying the Star Lock nearly recognized you as its master?"

"Perhaps," Ming He replied nonchalantly. Even if it had almost chosen her, it was now in Mu Xuan Ye’s hands, which was why Kuai, the blood-red vines, and the other beasts were under her command.

Ming He glanced at Kuai, still rampaging like a clumsy giant, and understood that Mu Xuan Ye was exacting revenge for being imprisoned for thousands of years.

"Then you can make the Star Lock recognize you as its master again!" the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator urged. If they succeeded, they might not only seal Mu Xuan Ye but also kill her here.

The ancient cave dwelling had trapped her for millennia, and her predecessor had used formation symbols and Restrictions to subdue her, with Kuai as the guard and the Star Lock to suppress her. Her current cultivation was no longer as formidable as it had been a thousand years ago.

"I… I don’t know how to do that," Ming He admitted. She had no idea how she had caught the Star Lock’s attention in the darkness before. How could she replicate that?

When she first noticed that the blood-red vines didn’t attack her, she had doubted her own sanity, thinking that such an ancient spiritual artifact would secretly recognize her as its master without her knowledge!

"What did you do before?" the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator asked curiously.

"I don’t know," Ming He replied, feeling lost. She had only been burned when she picked it up with her right hand, and then she had taken it from the black cat, only to have it snatched away again. She had done nothing else.

"Are you done talking?" Mu Xuan Ye asked, having listened patiently without interrupting. "If you’re finished, it’s time to meet your end."

"Meet my end? Why don’t you go first?" Ming He retorted coldly, exchanging a glance with the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator. She lightly touched the sword tip and thrust it forward, slicing through the air with enhanced sword intent.

Activating the Phantom Steps, she closed the distance between them in just a few strides, executing the first move of the Liu Yun Sword Art, Rising Cloud Slash!

Holding her sword, her gaze turned icy. So what if Mu Xuan Ye was the Left Envoy of the demon race? So what if she was part of the Dragon Hero’s harem? So what if she was an invincible powerhouse who had roamed the Tianwu Continent for thousands of years?

Whoever sought to kill her, she would kill in return!

On the other side, the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator raised his sword and thrust it forward. Though his move lacked any flashy techniques, it carried profound sword intent, simple yet deadly.

"Is this all?" Mu Xuan Ye glanced at them carelessly, her smile deepening. She stood still, not moving an inch, and slowly raised her pale hand, lightly brushing through the air.

Ming He felt her sword tip hit an invisible barrier, as if something was blocking her power, leaving her unable to advance.

How was this possible?

Ming He narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. She quickly sheathed her sword and drew it again, executing the Unsheathing Style!

She recalled Qin Chu Yi’s movements and expressions from Chang Ming courtyard, and in that moment, she struck. Like a trapped beast breaking free from its chains, she lunged forward with all her might, tearing through the darkness. Light began to seep through the cracks, growing brighter until it dispelled the entire night.

Flickering Light!

In that instant, Ming He felt a surge of inspiration, intuitively grasping the essence of Flickering Light as she connected with her sword. Starlight erupted from the sheath, heralding the dawn. Ming He thrust her sword forward, aiming its tip at Mu Xuan Ye. A flicker of surprise crossed the woman’s blood-red eyes.

She had broken through Mu Xuan Ye’s First Level of defense.

"Clang—"

A clear, resonant sound echoed. Ming He turned her gaze in surprise and saw that the Star Lock in Mu Xuan Ye’s hand was trembling slightly, as if sensing something. It seemed to want to break free and fly toward her.

Ming He stared at the Star Lock in astonishment. Had she awakened it once more?

Mu Xuan Ye’s expression shifted subtly, her typically serene eyes flickering with a trace of apprehension towards Ming He.

Clang—

The gleaming tip of the white sword was ensnared by Mu Xuan Ye’s outstretched right hand, and the familiar weight of oppression descended. Ming He stiffened her spine with effort, her right hand quivering as sword energy coalesced at the sword tip, casting a radiant glow. The invisible tension between them began to mount.

She was prepared to endure, to match her endurance.

After all, she wasn’t alone in this.

Ming He turned slightly to glance at the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator. Rarely had she taken the forefront in confronting Mu Xuan Ye, while the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator, employing an enigmatic footwork, had encircled Mu Xuan Ye, planting array flags around her.

A dual cultivation of sword and formation? Ming He pondered internally, a spark of anticipation igniting within her.

The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator nodded in response to Ming He’s bright gaze, her fingers weaving seals to harness the forces of heaven and earth. Spiritual energy amassed as the intricate array flags fluttered in the breeze, conjuring beastly apparitions that lunged towards Mu Xuan Ye.

Those beastly apparitions? Ming He blinked, straining to discern the forms from their lightning-fast movements—Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermillion Bird, Black Tortoise?

Aren’t these the four sacred beasts from ancient lore? Ming He felt a profound tremor in her heart. Could it be that the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator’s lineage surpassed even Qin Chu Yi’s?

The original narrative had never included the four sacred beasts, nor had it featured such a remarkable formation master; this character was not meant to exist.

"The Four Gods Array!" Mu Xuan Ye clearly recognized the formation, "You do possess some talent."

She extended her right hand, propelling Ming He backward, then clenched her fist and delivered a thunderous punch, accompanied by a deafening roar that shattered the air. The spectral forms of the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermillion Bird, and Black Tortoise dissipated before her strike.

They glanced back at their master, their eyes flickering with fading spiritual energy, as the force of the punch sent the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator tumbling once more, landing beside Ming He. The surrounding array flags fluttered in the wind as she gestured casually, snapping their poles and scattering the fragments throughout the cave dwelling.

"Is that all?" Mu Xuan Ye repeated her earlier words, her lips tinged with crimson, her blood-red eyes and white hair embodying the essence of the Left Envoy of the demon race.

In that moment, she reigned supreme over the cave dwelling.

"Pfft—"

Ming He turned her head to meet the gaze of the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator and, as if on cue, spat out a mouthful of blood. "Friend, do you have any more tricks?"

"I do. What about you?" The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator extended a hand to help Ming He up.

Ming He smiled gently, her lips curving softly. "I have some as well." With the strength the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator provided, she stood up, her right hand instinctively gripping her sword tightly, as if from her very soul, despite being sent hurtling back.

"Are the ants still trying to shake the heavens?" Mu Xuan Ye watched the two figures, one black and one blue, fall silent for a moment. In that instant, she saw reflections of those whom she had defeated over the centuries; they were also sword cultivators, and they too practiced both sword and formation.

How is this possible? Mu Xuan Ye sneered. How dare these two think they could compete? She could not afford to lose again!

The expression in her blood-red eyes became murky. After thousands of years, she would not allow herself to be defeated this time!

"Yet you are not the heavens," the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator interrupted softly. "The Four Gods Array was just an appetizer."

Having said that, she didn’t even glance at the destroyed array flags. She raised her hand lightly, and her sword floated into the air. The North Star Sword trembled and split into seven identical forms, each carrying a different sword intent.

"The Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array!" Mu Xuan Ye murmured.

"Exactly, it’s the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array! Rise!" The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator commanded, her hand forming intricate seals infused with ancient energy. "Friend, use Flickering Light with one sword."

The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator called out to Ming He, who stood in place. "Let’s reclaim the Star Lock!"

Though she had been busy setting up the formation, Ming He had closely observed the fight with Mu Xuan Ye and certainly hadn’t missed the fleeting movement of the Star Lock.

Perhaps the Star Lock had already found its true master.

Flickering Light, with one sword.

Ming He grasped the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator’s meaning almost instantly; the Star Lock’s disturbance was triggered by her previous attack.

Her attack had seamlessly transitioned from the Unsheathing Style into the Flickering Light.

The sword flashed out, scattering starlight across the heavens.

Star Lock.

Ming He nodded, her toes barely touching the ground as she soared into the air. With her sword, she swept downward, trailing starlight and the might of the heavens. As the blade descended, she felt the familiar resistance at the sword tip; she was above, Mu Xuan Ye below.

In the light streaming from above, she caught her reflection in Mu Xuan Ye’s blood-red eyes—resolute and unyielding—alongside a flicker of surprise and a faint tremor deep within Mu Xuan Ye’s soul.

Mu Xuan Ye was trembling.

"Whoosh!" The tremor was fleeting; she was now invincible.

Mu Xuan Ye let out a cold laugh and struck out, drawing the sword array closer. With her sword in hand, she darted into the array, positioning herself at its center. "I told you, ants cannot shake the heavens!"

"Bang—"

The Black Figure was hurled backward once more, blood staining its face, as the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator lay motionless on the ground.

The sword array crumbled in an instant, its brilliance fading. The sword shadows merged back into the North Star Sword, which spun back into its sheath.

Mu Xuan Ye lowered her head, spitting out blood, her face visibly pale. She looked up at Ming He, a cold smile playing on her lips as she waved her hand, using the last of her strength to repel Ming He, nearly stumbling back to lean against a stone pillar.

Ming He collapsed again beside the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator, blood staining her face, blue clothes, and white long sword.

"Friend, are you still alive?" Ming He whispered weakly to the motionless Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator.

"Barely… not dead," came the faint reply.

They struggled to help each other stand, glancing at Mu Xuan Ye before leaning against the stone pillar behind them.

All three were wounded.

"Hey, Ji Wu Xu, if I release you, will you help us?" Ming He asked, her voice strained as she turned her head toward the only conscious figure.

The other cultivators had long since lost consciousness, ensnared by the blood-red vines and overwhelmed by the fierce battle, their fates uncertain.

"What do you think?" Ji Wu Xu, who had witnessed the entire fight, was struck by the brilliance of the two. The Left Envoy of the demon race, Mu Xuan Ye, was a name she knew well. The origins of the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator were a mystery, but Ming He was the most astonishing.

Her swordsmanship was so dazzling that even Ji Wu Xu, who did not practice the sword, could sense her elegance.

A sword cultivator of unmatched talent, Ming He seemed to embody the ancient heroes her mother had spoken of, whose existence had once illuminated the Tianwu Continent.

Now, Ming He had proven herself worthy of rising from the flames.

But no matter how impressive, she still needed her help!

Ji Wu Xu smiled, her pride as the young leader unshaken. She dismissed the near-disaster of almost causing Ming He to leap off a cliff, her smile radiant and sly, her metaphorical fox tail held high.

"If you refuse, we’ll die together," Ming He said, her smile matching Ji Wu Xu’s for a moment. She was never one to be threatened.

"You—" Ji Wu Xu was left speechless, facing someone immune to her tricks for the first time. "Release me from the vines, and I’ll kill her."

"All three of you seem to think I’m already dead," Mu Xuan Ye interjected, her voice slow and deliberate, cutting through the conversation.

"Do you have any other tricks?" Ming He asked, leaning on her sword, her tone steady.

Though she didn’t fully understand the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator’s sword array, she could feel its immense power, capable of shaking the heavens.

To have brought Mu Xuan Ye to this stalemate, the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator had borne the brunt of the battle, suffering the most severe injuries.

So, she did not believe Mu Xuan Ye had any more tricks up her sleeve.

“What a cute confident look you have,” Mu Xuan Ye smirked, teasingly, as she lifted her right hand, revealing an unexpected star-shaped spiritual artifact—the Star Lock!

She guided Ming He’s gaze toward the blood-red vines and the fierce beast, Kui, rampaging beneath the altar, triumphant and ostentatious. As Ming He realized this, her pupils shrank slowly, and she heard Mu Xuan Ye call out, “Kui!”

She called the name of the fierce beast, “Devour them all!”

Then she raised her hand and traced a small arc with the Star Lock. A faint glow erupted from it, and the next moment, a massive, dark, bulky horned beast strode toward the altar, shaking the ground and aiming for Ming He and the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator.

Ji Wu Xu, who had evaded Kui beneath the altar, let out a sigh of relief; even though death was certain, it was still better to die sooner than later.

A dead end.

Ming He leaned on her sword, unable to think of a way to break the situation, and showed a bitter smile. “I never expected to die here alongside my friend. What’s your name?”

Before dying, it might be good to know her name and background. Although she would forget everything after drinking the soup that made one lose their memories, it was pointless to know or not know.

Ming He felt her heart sink into despair, waiting for death to come once again.

Would that beast’s belly be smelly? She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“There’s still one way,” the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator spoke hoarsely.

“Bang, bang, bang!”

Ming He’s heart raced intensely as she looked at her with hopeful eyes. “What way?”

In the face of death, no one could ever be fearless.

“Let the Star Lock recognize you as its master,” the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator said slowly, “Kui is the guardian of the cave and the Star Lock. Right now, it only obeys Mu Xuan Ye because the Star Lock is in her hands; she has done something to it.”

“Make the Star Lock recognize you as its master, and the deadlock will naturally be broken.” The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator looked at her. “I heard your name is Ming He.”

“Ming He, you can do it!” she encouraged, her eyes holding starlight.

“I—” Ming He hesitated, unsure of what to say.

The Star Lock had indeed shown some movement earlier, but when she used Flickering Light again, it did not react at all.

She didn’t know what to do.

“If you don’t know, ask your heart,” the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator said.

Ask her heart?

Ming He closed her eyes slowly, looking at Kui, which was so close, and asked her heart.

Her heart did not want to die; she didn’t want to die; she wanted to live!

To live, to carry on!

In an instant, a glimmer of hope for survival erupted within her. Ming He closed her eyes, feeling the endless darkness, and recalled Qin Chu Yi’s shining sword light that cut through the galaxy.

Unsheathing Style.

Flickering Light!

Liu Yun.

Her heart.

The instinct of a sword cultivator.

Nebula Sword Art.

The sky was filled with starlight, a cold crescent moon, the only light in the darkness.

Now was just darkness; in the darkness, she was the only hope, the only light.

Only she could save herself.

Ming He repeated this in her heart, countless visions rising up—fragmented, overwhelming, boundless… until they all converged into a light at the tip of her sword.

The second form of Nebula Sword Art, Lonely Star!

Ming He swung her sword with a resounding clang, the sword moved, revealing the galaxy. Under the Flickering Light, the stars shone brilliantly. She stood at the boundary of darkness and daylight—bewildering yet dangerous, vast and profound.

The sword tip turned sharply, and starlight faded, a star slowly rising from the depths of the infinite darkness, its brightness growing until it illuminated the entire starry sky.

One star came forth, and then countless stars followed, creating a vast starry sky, with countless points of starlight blooming in the darkness, shining the brightest light.

Stepping on starlight, she floated above the ground, standing in the radiance. In that instant, the Star Lock burst forth with light, flying from Mu Xuan Ye’s hand as if eagerly wanting to embrace Ming He.

Kui stopped several dozen meters from the altar, a flicker of confusion flashing in its murky eyes, and then it lay down without a care beneath the altar beside Ming He.

In the starry sea, amidst the endless starlight, Ming He slowly opened her eyes to look at Mu Xuan Ye, her expression calm and composed. “Who says ants cannot shake the heavens?”

“Who says ants cannot shake the heavens? Who says ants—cannot move the heavens?”

Ming He gracefully descended onto the altar, this time elevated high above, “You are not the heavens, and we are not ants.”

The sword cultivator in blue clothes declared.