Chapter 331

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Chapter 331: The Sword That Shaped the Land

The battle was not yet over. Bai Wei had merely cleaned up the battlefield; the true enemy still lurked below.

He stepped onto the golden water, and pure golden ether collapsed, sinking downwards.

In the next moment, the water’s surface cracked open, and a pitch-black python emerged, spraying golden water into the air, which fell down like a magnificent golden rain.

Bai Wei gazed at the black snake, its body slender and graceful—simultaneously beautiful and fierce. From a biological standpoint, it was incredibly handsome, its body structure intricate and complex. It was not just an oversized snake; the larger the creature, the more elaborate its form.

The black serpent roared into the sky. “Who are you, exactly?”

Bai Wei smirked. “Does that really matter?”

Not only had he ruined its feast, but he had also slaughtered its henchmen. Now, he sought its life. This hatred was irreconcilable—there was no need for further words.

The black snake roared again, its enormous body twisting and writhing. It swung its tail with great force, stirring and churning the golden rivers. The water’s surface undulated, and in the blink of an eye, a massive wave formed, crashing toward Bai Wei. Beneath the wave, however, the black snake’s tail lurked, its strength far surpassing that of the wave.

With a loud clang, the snake’s tail halted. The golden wave surged over Bai Wei’s shoulders, yet not a single drop touched him. The wave’s force pushed backward, crashing into the mountainside. The mountain crumbled easily, its centuries-old rocks unable to withstand the impact of the ethereal energy. It was not water, but an unstoppable force that pulverized anything it touched.

The tail of the Thousand Stone Black Snake had come to a stop, and what halted it was just a sword.

Its tail throbbed with intense pain as the blade sliced through its intricate scales, cutting deep into its flesh and severing its bones halfway through.

What an incredibly sharp sword, wielded by such a steady hand.

Bai Wei, clad in golden gears from head to toe, gently swung the Crouching Tiger Sword. It had just quenched its thirst with snake blood, and perhaps due to long periods without feeding, the sword became insatiable, consuming fresh blood. Yet, not a drop splattered onto his clothes.

The black snake roared again, continuing its assault. It no longer relied solely on its tail but employed the complete set of attack techniques it had learned over years under the command of the Great Lord of the Underworld. With its agile and massive body, it twisted and struck with precision.

Bai Wei remained centered and unmoving, waiting for its attacks from all directions, ready to strike back. The blade cut through scales, slicing flesh as the scent of blood grew stronger.

Stepping on the undulating golden water surface, Bai Wei felt a long-lost illusion—as if he had returned to the past. Not as an emperor, but as a young warrior, battling disasters, vanquishing sorcerers, and confronting the abyss.

Strength is never gained overnight. For Bai Wei, everything except his innate golden bloodline was acquired through careful planning and perseverance.

Before the royal family’s official struggle for the throne, he had begun his adventures at the age of eleven. He met many people, and this laid the foundation for his future mentors.

Creating a new character from scratch was no easy task, and he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Thus, he only used his Golden Power sparingly, in critical moments.

One of the most memorable experiences was when he personally witnessed the destruction of the first village.

There were many reasons for its fall—Bloody Red Moon, witch hunts, mercenaries, nobles, and disguised demons.

One village easily perished under the intervention of multiple forces, and countless innocent lives were lost.

Bai Wei arrived three hours late, not wanting to reveal his identity, which caused the delay.

When they arrived, a colossal beast, freed from captivity, and a deranged witch were locked in battle amidst the ruins and corpses. Madness and beasts danced together, as flames consumed everything.

He couldn’t save anyone by himself.

From that moment on, Bai Wei realized that the empire’s very foundation had decayed. This event became one of his motivations to rewrite history.

Why did these past memories resurface now? Perhaps because they felt so familiar.

Back then, he had a chance to rescue the village, but he missed it. In his attempt to hide his identity, he ended up losing more.

He loved the apple wine and apple pie from that town, and for years, he searched but never found the same taste again. What was lost, was lost forever.

Now, he was more mature than before, understanding what was right and wrong. If he were in his past self’s shoes, he would have found a better solution. Or maybe, he would’ve simply acted without overthinking.

Bai Wei got lost in thought for a moment, then smiled.

Seeing injustice, witnessing conspiracy, and encountering unforgivable crimes, he took out his sword. With a sigh of relief, he vowed to swiftly end them.

Regrets from that year still lingered, and too many could never be undone. He knew that if he didn’t speak of them, he would forget.

But at this moment, he felt a sense of relief.

Because this time, he didn’t arrive too late.

Bai Wei snapped back to reality. Well, that wasn’t quite accurate. He always maintained focus—getting distracted in battle was a fatal mistake.

He simply recalled his initial feelings and released a heavy burden. His hands, freed from constraints, felt unusually light and relaxed.

Perhaps it was just a psychological reaction, but he felt the sword grow lighter, and yet, at the same time, heavier. As soon as he lifted the sword, he could lift even more.

The black serpent struck again.

This time, Bai Wei did not stand still. He sidestepped with a sliding step, gently placing the Crouching Tiger Sword by his left waist. Golden rain fell, forming a large curtain of rain, and the chaotic flow of energy disrupted perception. The undulating water surface was unstable.

But as Bai Wei assumed the posture of sheathing his sword, he remained completely still. He entered a state of absolute tranquility, like a water lily floating effortlessly on the surface.

The black serpent whizzed by, missing its attack. It swiftly coiled around the mountain wall, resembling a rapidly spinning conveyor belt. Its speed did not diminish. Instead, it accelerated, carrying a roaring momentum. Suddenly, it made a sharp 180-degree turn.

Its size rivaled that of a great white whale, causing the entire mountaintop to tremble under its encircling presence. The force of its speed and mass created tremendous kinetic energy, resembling a pitch-black shooting star hurtling toward the ground.

Bai Wei, eyes closed and unmoving, held the Crouching Tiger Sword in his right hand, slightly drooping. The sword, having drunk a large amount of blood, was now slightly red. As the blade immersed in the golden ether, it resembled a sizzling hot blade being tempered in flowing water. The faint crimson blood diffused, adding an alluring quality to the sword.

The sword longed to tear apart the beast—break through its scales, cleave its flesh, shatter its ribs, and drink its heart’s blood in agony. It desired to consume every drop of its life and soul, leaving nothing behind.

The gears on Bai Wei’s body interlocked in golden harmony. But this was merely an unintentional force in motion. His true focus—the sword—was his conscious mind’s center.

The Crouching Tiger Sword, with the special effects of Tiger Soul and Ghost Fury activated, became the icing on the cake. However, what truly moved the blade was his determination.

In that moment, Bai Wei understood.

Facing the tide, he struck against the waves.

Bai Wei swung his Crouching Tiger Sword, submerging half of the blade into the water. The natural motion stirred up the golden waters, causing the currents to swirl. With that single swing, it felt as though he had hooked Taihu Lake on a fishing rod. The golden tidal wave erupted with a thunderous force, and the waters soared high into the sky.

The golden tidal wave crashed against the black serpent’s scales. It was as if the serpent collided with a mountain and an endless river. Bai Wei’s swing wasn’t just a sword strike—it was the majestic momentum of mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas. A force beyond comprehension.

Ninety-nine percent of swordsmen in the world wield swords with delicate, intricate techniques—like falling leaves or flying snow. Their swordsmanship is small and beautiful. But Bai Wei was different. In battle, he awakened to a different understanding. With a single swing, his sword embodied the momentum of nature itself.

The sword rises, mountains and rivers part.

This was not just a difference in strength but in the depth of understanding. It reflected his inner disposition.

Bai Wei’s swordsmanship had been stuck at level thirty for a long time. It had been a lengthy bottleneck. Even as a Soul Reaper, Bai Wei never regarded swordsmanship as a treasure. Swords were for killing, and an emperor never fought wars. In his past life, Bai Wei had never touched a sword, and it was only in this life that he encountered them.

But as he swung his sword, he clearly felt the bottleneck loosening.

For Bai Wei, it was like an antelope growing its horns—a buildup of hidden strength and a moment of sudden enlightenment. In the eyes of his opponent, it was a terrifying catastrophe.

The black serpent realized that its colossal body was no longer an advantage, but a burden. In its massive size, unable to overpower Bai Wei, it became vulnerable to attack. Facing the formidable tide, there was no escape. Its entire body was engulfed by the force. Then, it heard the sound of its bones and scales shattering.

The serpent floated effortlessly, soaring into the sky.

It crashed down, lifeless, onto the empty ground before Sengoku Shrine. The golden river soared upwards, becoming a rain of golden light that stretched for miles, weightless and ethereal.

When Bai Wei no longer needed them, they dissipated into ordinary energy.

Standing in front of the Black Serpent, Bai Wei saw its blood had been drained halfway.

The Crouching Tiger Sword pressed against its forehead. The black serpent gazed up at the blade, struggling to speak.

“You have killed me, but this is not the end…” it rumbled.

“I know,” Bai Wei responded calmly.

“You have no idea what you are facing…” the serpent spat blood.

“The Lord of Yellow Spring, an ancient deity, or some undying creature,” Bai Wei said indifferently. “Do you think I care?”

“You’re strong, but not strong enough to face the Great Emperor. I’m just one of his subordinates…”

“It was you who declared war on me,” Bai Wei said. “This is a fight to the death.”

“I never provoked you…” The serpent was puzzled.

“You hurt a little girl.”

“A little girl… just because of that?” The serpent was confused.

“I, Bai Wei, vow to protect the witches of the world. Five hundred years have passed, and they remain my people,” Bai Wei said calmly, but with terrifying weight. “By harming my people, you have ignited a war against me. There shall be no mercy in your punishment.”

For five hundred years, the great serpent, Qianshi, realized too late. The young man in front of him was no ordinary warrior.

Perhaps this was a misunderstanding…” it stammered.

Bai Wei pressed his palm against the sword, and with a sudden thrust, the blade glimmered, slicing through the Black Serpent’s head.

A vivid tiger silhouette emerged, biting into the snake’s soul before leaping out, like a proud cat flaunting its catch.

The serpent knew there was no hope left. Once its soul was extinguished, there would be no resurrection.

After hundreds of years of waiting, planning, and enduring, all in vain, it became a tragic joke.

Before death, it let out a final desperate roar. “Kamitsumi! Why did you betray me? We cultivated together for a thousand years, why did you strip me of my divinity?”

It never understood, nor did it want to. Even now, it longed for an answer, yearning for liberation.

“Because you are a monster,” Bai Wei said coldly. “You are not a god, you are just a monster.”

Sengoku God froze, gazing at its reflection. Pain filled its voice. “So it turns out… I am already a monster…”

It stopped struggling. The Crouching Tiger’s teeth clenched, shattering its soul. The thousand-year-old mountain god and monster vanished completely.

Bai Wei withdrew the Crouching Tiger Sword, and heard a loud burp followed by a cheerful sound effect.

[The event had come to an end.]