Chapter 173 — Merit! Fault! Reward! Punishment!

The sudden upheaval—what should have been the old Dragon King, stripped of his dragon body in this life and sent to the netherworld for reincarnation—had instead become him, crashing upon the Dragon-Slaying Platform in place of his son Ao Wulie, who had recklessly summoned rain and disrupted the order of Heaven and Earth. For the sake of his son, he had willingly abandoned that sliver of survival, taking upon himself the primary responsibility.

This turn of events left everyone utterly speechless, and Lingmiao Gong’s expression was filled with grief.

Previously, the other Earth Deities had been secretly pleased that Ao Liu would not be slain to the point of soul destruction, yet only Lingmiao Gong knew what choice Ao Liu would make. He would never choose his own survival while pushing his son onto the Dragon-Slaying Platform—especially when a father had finally seen his son repent.

Yet Taibai Star Lord instead turned his gaze toward Tianyou True Lord.

With the latter’s strength—enough to contend evenly with a Great Sage—a heavily injured True Dragon would be no match for him.

If Tianyou wished to stop this, a mere lift of his hand would have been enough to seize Ao Liu and then send Ao Wulie onto the Dragon-Slaying Platform.

But this towering divine general, stern-faced and even faintly ferocious in appearance, merely lowered his eyes. Beneath the [bottom line] of the Northern Pole Exorcism Court, he tacitly permitted the old Dragon King’s choice. The laws within and beyond the Six Realms each had their own order. Earth Deities did not fall under the Heavenly Court, while the one responsible for law and punishment within the Heavenly Court was the Judicial Great Heavenly Venerable.

Only matters that involved the [overturning of the order of the Six Realms] touched that bottom line.

Such matters could not be handled by the Thunder Department or the Battle Department. [TL_Note: Battle = Dipper Department]

And would only then rise to the Middle Heaven’s Northern Pole, prompting the mobilization of the Northern Pole Exorcism Court.

Those who threatened to overturn order were all severely judged to preserve it.

As for all else, it did not fall within the duties or objectives of the Northern Pole Exorcism Court.

Even the harshest slaughter in the mortal world belonged to mortal affairs—for instance, the events of Jinzhou, where the demon nation slew humans, no different from the human race slaying demons. The struggle of all living beings was itself within the order of Heaven and Earth. If a deity acted recklessly, it fell under the jurisdiction of the Judicial Great Heavenly Venerable. Only when the ghosts and gods of the Three Realms dared to touch the most fundamental order of Heaven and Earth would it be directly overseen by the Northern Pole Exorcism Court.

From the Judicial Great Heavenly Venerable, to the Thunder Department, the Dipper Department, and finally reporting upward to the Northern Pole Ziwei Great Emperor, who would dispatch the Exorcism Court—

It was already a process of escalating layers.

To reach this step was equivalent to a death sentence in the mortal world.

In the end, Tianyou maintained the bottom line of order while tacitly allowing Dragon King Ao Liu’s selfish desire to protect his son.

The young Daoist suddenly raised his hand and, in an instant, began to inscribe spirit talisman patterns.

He softly said, “Decree!”

Streams of light shifted.

Under the command of that edict, the old Dragon King’s life soul was briefly gathered.

As for the Heavenly Soul, the Earthly Soul, and the seven corporeal souls, they had already been shattered upon the Dragon-Slaying Platform.

Tianyou lifted his eyes to look at Qi Wuhuo. Lingmiao Gong and the other Earth Deities, as well as Taibai Star Lord and the various war generals of the Northern Pole Exorcism Court, also turned their gazes toward him. Tianyou said indifferently: “Dangmo, your ‘Decree’ cannot gather his souls. Of the three souls and seven corporeal souls, only a single life soul remains. Even if you exhaust your full strength, you can barely maintain it for the time of one incense stick. What do you intend to do?”

The young Daoist did not reply.

Among the Earth Deities, someone cursed, “Putting on a show! Why didn’t you show mercy when the judgment was made?!”

Even as a judge, just lifting your brush slightly—what would it matter?!

Yet none dared to openly rebuke the Northern Pole Exorcism Court.

Tianyou, however, had already seen through the young man’s thoughts.

Public is public, private is private. For the sake of the public, he must be slain. In this battle, Qi Wuhuo had participated from beginning to end, had witnessed the tragic deaths, had exerted all his strength—damaging his own Dao foundation and even consuming three Jiazi of his lifespan—only then barely managing to hold the situation together. Even so, the casualties were severe. After being gravely injured, Ao Liu did not report to the Penglai Department, but instead chose to pass on his position to his son—a crime of dereliction of duty. If he were not executed, it would be insufficient to answer to the people of the Central Plains.

But as an individual, one does not possess only a Dao heart, nor can one truly achieve the Dao’s absolute detachment.

Thus, there exists the saying of tribulation.

There is nothing more complex than the human heart. This itself was already entering the tribulation and responding to it. Tianyou True Lord said calmly:

“You have fulfilled your duty. You may withdraw.”

Qi Wuhuo’s hand seals shifted slightly. He gave a salute, then turned and left under the complex gazes of both the Northern Pole Exorcism Court and the Earth Deities. Using himself to sustain the Decree character, this no longer resembled the conduct of a judge, and even stood somewhat at odds with the stance of the Northern Pole Exorcism Court—yet it had been he himself who made the judgment.

Although everyone knew that even if Qi Wuhuo had made a different decision, Tianyou would not have allowed it, the judgment within the young Daoist’s own heart was indeed the same—Even if he himself were to decide again, he would still slay the dragon.

The young Daoist walked away into the distance.

Tianyou lowered his eyes to look at Ao Wulie, who—by the judgment—was the one who truly should have had his soul scattered and destroyed.

“What do you have to say?”

Ao Wulie looked at his father’s corpse, his body trembling, tears streaming down his face. After a long while, he turned on his knees, then suddenly kowtowed heavily, grinding his teeth, his eyes bloodshot:

“I… beg to ‘live’!”

Qi Wuhuo protected that last trace of Ao Liu’s life soul, yet the latter had not awakened, even briefly.

This state, in the end, was no more than the final flicker of life after a grave illness in the mortal world. The place of judgment was, in fact, where the Earth Deities held the Houtu rites. Emerging from the earth and standing atop the mountain, the young Daoist saw the horizon faintly brightening. Though the great sun had not yet risen, the edge of the sky had already turned pale like a fish’s belly. He could see strands of black smoke rising from villages, not yet fully dispersed.

Today should have been a festival day.

But now, the air held only mournful cries, and the hoarse, broken sounds that remained after the weeping had exhausted all strength.

Because of the chaos of baleful qi and fiendish forces, mountains in the Central Plains had collapsed and broken apart. Those who had lived relying on these mountains now faced a choice—whether to leave behind their homeland and the terraced fields painstakingly cultivated over hundreds of years, to become [displaced refugees], and go to other cities to seek a living, starting over bit by bit.

The living had the sorrow of the living.

The dead no longer needed to think of such things.

The young Daoist walked along the mountain path. He saw shattered Earth God temples, villages that had completely vanished, and towns torn apart from the middle by some supernatural power. He saw land corroded by some kind of force, leaving deep, searing traces even upon the ground itself—and the areas that had been directly affected had simply ceased to exist.

Looking from afar, he saw that part of the city walls had collapsed. Blood flowed. The soldiers of the Central Plains prefectural city were being carried away. When Qi Wuhuo stood at the gates of the city, what he saw were countless men and women, old and young alike, wailing as they threw themselves upon those mangled, unrecognizable bodies of flesh.

They wanted to find something familiar.

Yet they were afraid to find it.

But what they feared most… was truly not finding anything at all.

The young Daoist looked at face after face. They had fought to the very end against the monsters corrupted by baleful qi, using their flesh and blood to fill the breaches in the city walls. He saw them gripping their weapons, eyes wide in fury. The wind passed through; spears stood like a forest, cold and stained with blood. Yet the warriors could no longer rise. Only the wind moved past, making the spearheads hum faintly—like long howls and furious shouts—Fighting to the death, never retreating.

All of them, however, had died.

In this battle, of the seventy thousand prefectural soldiers of the Central Plains city, seventy percent had perished.

Though they were only prefectural troops, their record already rivaled that of the elite forces of old.

Black armor, white armor, and even common cloth.

“Where is my son?! Where is my son!!”

“Your son… has fallen in battle.”

“Then what about my grandson?”

“…He has also fallen.”

“No, impossible… I have three sons, three! There must be at least one still alive, right? There must be! Three! My old man already died at the frontier; you can’t say all my sons are dead, can you? There must be someone still alive…”

“They survived the disaster in Jinzhou… we lived thanks to that rain…”

“This time… it can’t be, it can’t be…”

An elderly woman with white hair clutched tightly at a man whose battle robe was stained with blood. The man’s face was filled with pain. At last, he lowered his head, searched through a pile of belongings, and took out three bloodstained waist tokens. The hand that once held a spear steadily now trembled uncontrollably.

Those were the tokens of the fallen.

Wails of grief, mixed with the joy of those who discovered their loved ones still alive, blended into a chaotic noise.

Yet when they saw the young Daoist, they all instinctively made way for him.

For they had seen Daoists fighting with swords, had seen that youth’s temples already touched with desolation, his steps faintly unsteady. The old woman suddenly reached out and seized the sleeve of the young Daoist, sorrow and pleading in her eyes: “Daozhang, my sons are all dead…”

“You killed the one responsible, didn’t you?”

The young Daoist did not know how to answer.

Was it Jidu? Jidu had plotted everything.

Was it the old Dragon King? He had not relinquished his position to the Penglai Department, but instead passed it to his son. Though there were grievances, though there had been schemes against him, the imbalance of order and the near fall of the Central Plains were also the truth…

But as the Northern Pole had said—did not those living beings who died because of him also have their own grievances?

The old woman reached out and clutched him tightly, until she was finally pulled away by that soldier. She looked at the young Daoist and cried out: “They didn’t die for nothing, did they?! They didn’t die in vain, right?! Right?!”

The soldier pulled her back, sensing the lingering aura of battle upon the young Daoist, and said: “Daozhang… thank you. I saw you draw your sword.”

“Thank you…”

“If not for you, we might not have held on until the end.”

“It’s just… in the end, we still paid a price.”

“Yes… thank you.”

The surviving soldiers gave their thanks. All they could do was pat the young Daoist on the shoulder to express their feelings. His Daoist robe, too, was stained with blood. Step by step, he moved forward. He saw that the sesame cake vendor from before, now leaning against a wall, one arm severed, a ferocious wound running from his forehead to the corner of his mouth. He was already at the brink of death, the light in his eyes gradually fading, an iron sword held in his arms.

His wife knelt beside him, already crying to the point of voicelessness.

“I told you not to go…”

“Told you not to…”

A three-year-old child tugged at his father’s finger: “Daddy, eat sesame cake…”

The man’s eyes were already losing focus, his vision dispersing. Once more, he seemed to hear the sound of war drums. Ahead, the wind rose, and banners stirred, black-armored ranks standing like a forest.

The valiant of the Nine Provinces, the mighty Xuan-Armor host.

Of the three thousand armored officers that remained—

The survivors after the battle—

Only two hundred and thirty-seven lived.

All the rest had perished in this battle.

Not a single one retreated.

They had not broken the oath they once swore beneath their blades:

Clad in black armor and dark cloaks, answering the call to arms to go forth and save, to punish evil and uphold good, to protect the nation and bring peace to the people.

The young Daoist walked on. With his Innate One Qi, he saved whom he could. By the time he reached that old tree, due to excessive exhaustion, the white at his temples seemed to spread further, his steps already unsteady. He sat before that chessboard and said hoarsely: “Mr. Ao Liu… do you sense anything?”

The life soul he had been sustaining dispersed, transforming into the faint, translucent figure of Ao Liu, who sat before him.

Between the two of them, the same game of chess remained.

Ao Liu’s face was filled with sorrow as he said: “…Young friend, why go to the trouble of saving me for this brief moment?”

The young Daoist looked at the Dragon King before him: “Then why did you insist on sacrificing your life upon the Dragon-Slaying Platform?”

All living beings have feelings, while the Great Dao is impartial—these two are ultimately in conflict, yet who can truly abandon either?

Ao Liu understood Qi Wuhuo’s meaning. He knew the young man still remembered what had happened that day. For the sake of the public, he must be slain—but in regard to personal sentiment, one should still do all one can. Looking at the young Daoist before him, whose lifespan and foundation had been greatly cut away, he let out a sigh, glanced around, and murmured: “This tribulation has, in the end, still been stirred…”

“I never thought the final sight I would see of the Central Plains would be like this.”

The young Daoist was silent for a long time before asking, “Do you regret saving people that day, sir?”

Ao Liu let out a soft laugh and said, “You are still young, child.”

“Tianyou True Lord let you judge me, but the one who ultimately made the decision was still him. As for what Jidu said—”

“That because I saved others, I was implicated…”

“Do you mean to say that this old man should have lived cautiously, praying that evildoers would not set their sights on me? What kind of reasoning is that? The Central Plains is different from Jinzhou. Jinzhou stands alone and leans more toward the chaos of the mortal world—it does not involve the order itself. But this time, they sought to use the three-thousand-six-hundred-year grand formation as an opportunity to break the balance of order. And since they intended to break the formation—”

“As the central land of all under Heaven, how could the Central Plains possibly be ignored by them?”

“This place was always destined to be one of the seven great nodes.”

“Whether this old man saved people or did not save people would not have affected their objective or the final outcome.”

Ao Liu murmured: “In the end, it was merely a matter of choice.”

“If it were the Judicial Great Heavenly Venerable, he would consider more, seeking a balance between sentiment, reason, and law. But the Northern Pole Exorcism Court is the final link—they follow the Dao’s impartiality, choosing order while disregarding all else. Ji Du seeks the Dao with unwavering resolve, desiring chaos under Heaven; and as for this old man—seeing the living, I could not bear to see them die, and so I did what I did.”

“The Heavenly Dao is without emotion, supremely impartial and selfless. Slaughtering all living beings will not incur the wrath of Heaven; saving all living beings will not bring Heaven’s reward. Whether it is they or I, what we seek is nothing more than the single word—[self].”

“I have followed my own Dao and acted accordingly. I have no regrets.”

“There are only choices—there is no right or wrong…”

“It is only the common people who suffer.”

He lowered his gaze, then suddenly smiled: “And I must also thank you—for exhausting your own foundation so that I could take one last look at the Central Plains. Come, there is still this final chance—let us play one more game…” 

The young Daoist used his Innate One Qi to manifest the chessboard. One dragon, one man; one soul, one Daoist—here, they played one final game. The board remained the Dragon-Slaying Game. A piece fell.

The old Dragon King sighed softly, his figure gradually becoming transparent.

He was left with only the life soul. After long deliberation, he placed his piece—and suddenly, from the horizon came the long cry of a dragon.

It was the essence blood of the old Dragon King’s true body.

He expended the last of his life soul’s qi, stirring his true dragon body. The young Daoist raised his head and saw that the dragon’s roar, then disperse, transforming into boundless vital essence, suddenly spreading outward and turning into falling rain—just like in years past. This was the true dragon essence blood that had once caused the demon race to fracture and the dragon race to depart. Even dispersed into rain and scattered across the vast lands of the Central Plains, it still retained its power.

It turned grievous injuries into light ones, restored a final breath of vitality to those on the brink of death, and replenished the foundations of the living.

A true dragon had died here, yet bore no resentment toward the common people. Under such circumstances, the primordial qi of the Central Plains would suffer no harm.

The young Daoist held a chess piece in his hand. Knowing the old Dragon King’s choice, he did not stop him. Closing his eyes, the white at his temples stirred slightly as he regulated his qi, and said: “Taishang Decree, I deliver your lonely soul beyond.”

It was not directed at the old Dragon King before him.

It was instead carried along with this rain—nearing the level of True Lord essence blood—spreading the power of the incantation across the Central Plains.

The old Dragon King had already cast the spell; Qi Wuhuo merely guided the last of his power to complete this art.

As for the souls, their resentment was washed away, aiding their return to reincarnation.

A True Dragon, with a thousand years of cultivation, dispersed in but a moment. The old Dragon King’s life soul grew pale and faint. With a smile, he placed his final piece. Even the young Daoist’s edict could not hold him together for long. The latter said nothing more, only drove his own Primordial Qi without regard for the cost.

Because of that wine from the Southern Pole Longevity Great Emperor, it ultimately helped the old Dragon King complete this final rainfall of his life.

The shattered mountain ranges would one day become ravines, and within them, life would once more arise, forming wondrous landscapes.

“What you and I have done… is it not also a choice?”

The old Dragon King smiled, placing a piece. The last remaining life soul of his three souls and seven corporeal souls dispersed as well. His consciousness grew dim and drifting. Even the rain could no longer be felt. His soul was about to scatter completely.

But suddenly, all things fell silent.

Time itself seemed to slow. Qi Wuhuo could see the falling rain, strung together like chains of pearls.

A single drop of rain fell, landing within Ao Liu’s blank consciousness.

The life soul did not shatter, nor did it awaken, yet neither did it enter reincarnation. Instead, it merged into the falling rain, scattering across the world. Though it failed to reincarnate and its whereabouts were unknown, it did not completely dissipate either. Passing once over the Dragon-Slaying Platform, two souls and seven corporeal souls had scattered, yet one remained, gaining a sliver of life. The rain formed from this was different from the rain that had just fallen.

The young Daoist raised his eyes and saw that the drop of rain came from a willow leaf, crystal clear.

Then he saw, ahead of him, a gentle-looking middle-aged man with calm eyes, who had appeared at some unknown time, by some unknown means. He simply said:

“Seven years ago, a rain granted all living beings a thread of life.”

“I, too, shall grant you a rain, returning to you that same thread of life.”

“It is what is called give and take.”

“The Northern Pole Exorcism Court is the bottom line—merits and faults cannot cancel one another out.”

“But between Heaven and Earth, rewards and punishments must also be distinct.”

When the young Daoist rose, he felt his exhaustion surge; his body staggered, and he had to brace himself against the table to stand steady. He sensed a trace of profound resonance and suddenly realized that when he and Ao Liu had summoned the rain to deliver the souls, they had also been subtly guided and aided by this person’s qi. Only now, upon his appearance, did Qi Wuhuo become aware of it. He asked:

“Who are you?!”

Before him stood that middle-aged scholar, tall and refined, his gaze serene. Within his sleeve lay a white, spotless cat dozing. In his left hand, he held a jade purification vase, within which rested willow branches, their dew glistening crystal clear. In his other hand, he held an umbrella. His bearing was exceptionally pure. His gaze swept over the young Daoist, whose body was still entwined with the aura of tribulation, and he raised his eyes slightly, thinking to himself—

Third Tribulation Sword.

Edict command.

With a sweep of his sleeve, he too sat down at the table and replied: “This poor Daoist—

“Taiyi, the Heavenly Venerable Who Saves from Suffering.”