Chapter 63: Level 9: Gates of Life and Death?!

The air around Sword Peak grew tense, heavy with anticipation and fear. The disciples and elders stood rooted in place, their gazes fixed on Dao Wei as he stood before the imposing structure that had materialized out of thin air—the Gate of Life and Death. It was an ancient and ominous portal, its black stone surface inscribed with runes that pulsed with a malevolent energy. It seemed to suck the light out of the surrounding air, casting a dark shadow over the onlookers.

"I-is he going to enter the Gate of Life and Death?" one disciple stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief. The Gate was notorious, its name whispered in hushed tones among the disciples. Few dared even to speak of it, and none had ever dared to cross its threshold.

"Is he out of his mind?" another disciple muttered, clutching his sword tightly as if it could ward off the creeping fear that the Gate instilled. "No one has ever survived entering that place. It's suicide!"

Elder Shen, who had been silently observing from the sidelines, finally spoke, his voice laden with concern. "The Gate of Life and Death... It's not called that without reason. It's the cruelest trial, one that tests not just the body, but the very soul. Those who fail are consumed by it, their souls lost forever in the void. And no one has ever passed."

The murmur of the crowd grew louder, a mixture of awe and dread rippling through the gathered disciples. They knew the history of the Sword Peak trials, the countless lives lost to the merciless tests. The Gate of Life and Death was the final trial, the ultimate test that no one had ever conquered.

"He's really going to enter, isn't he?" Mei Lian, one of the core disciples, whispered, her usually confident voice tinged with fear. "Is someone going to stop him?"

Elder Shen's gaze shifted to the Second Grand Elder, an imposing figure who stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The Second Grand Elder was known for his wisdom and strength, and more importantly, he was the one who came to get Dao Wei. If anyone could intervene, it would be him.

But the Second Grand Elder remained silent, his eyes fixed on Dao Wei. He seemed to be weighing the risks, contemplating whether to allow his young protégé to step into the jaws of death. The tension in the air was palpable, as if the very heavens were holding their breath, waiting for his decision.

Whoosh!

Before anyone could react, Dao Wei moved, his decision made. With a swift and determined step, he crossed the threshold of the Gate of Life and Death. The crowd gasped as the dark portal swallowed him whole, its surface rippling like a pool of black water before solidifying once more.

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then the whispers began, filled with fear and uncertainty.

"What is he thinking?" Jian Hong, the disciple who had earlier speculated on the nature of the Tao, shook his head in disbelief. "Does he not know what that place is? No one comes back from the Gate of Life and Death. It's a graveyard for the foolish and the arrogant!"

"Maybe... maybe he thinks he's different," another disciple offered, though his voice lacked conviction. "He's already passed the eighth trial, after all. Maybe he believes he can conquer this one too."

"But this is different!" Elder Shen snapped, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the pressure. "The eighth trial was about understanding, about aligning with the Tao. But the ninth... The ninth is about survival. It's about facing the darkest parts of one's soul and emerging whole. It's about life and death in the truest sense."

And then, there was Mei Lian again, her voice now a mere whisper. "But he didn't even know what the trials were… He doesn't know what he's walking into..."

Inside the Gate of Life and Death, Dao Wei found himself in a place both familiar and alien. He stood within a grand palace, its walls and pillars adorned with gold that glinted in the dim light. The architecture was magnificent, a testament to the power and grandeur of its creators. But the palace was desolate, its vast halls echoing with a silence that was oppressive, almost suffocating.

Dao Wei's steps echoed as he walked forward, his senses on high alert. Despite the grandeur of the palace, there was something wrong, something deeply unsettling about the place. It was as if the palace was a tomb, a monument to forgotten kings and fallen heroes whose souls still lingered within its walls.

Suddenly, a cold wind swept through the hall, and the air grew heavy with a dark presence. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to stretch and twist, and out of them emerged spectral figures, their forms wreathed in a ghostly light. These were not ordinary spirits; they were fiends, the vengeful souls of those Dao Wei had slain in his journey.

Boom! 

They attacked, their ethereal forms converging on him like a tide of darkness.

Dao Wei barely dodged the first strike, the claws of a particularly malevolent spirit slicing through the air where his head had been moments before. He spun on his heel, drawing his sword, Tian, as the fiends surrounded him, their voices a cacophony of hatred and despair.

"Why did you kill us?" one spirit hissed, its voice echoing through the halls like the whisper of a cold wind.

"Did you ever consider our lives?" another fiend sneered, its face twisted in a grimace of pain and anger. "We had families, loved ones! What gave you the right to take that from us?"

"Are you any better than the monsters you claim to fight?" a third spirit demanded, its voice filled with venom. "You kill and kill, leaving nothing but death in your wake. What makes you think you're justified?"

The fiends circled around Dao Wei, their accusations tearing at his soul, each word like a dagger aimed at his heart. They were relentless, their voices rising in a crescendo of torment.

"You claim to follow your own conscience, but what of the lives you've destroyed?" one of the fiends howled. "How many innocent souls have you sent to the abyss? Do you even care?"

Dao Wei's grip tightened on Tian, his knuckles white. But despite the onslaught, his resolve did not waver. He had faced his share of demons—both external and internal—and he knew that guilt was a poison that could only take root if he allowed it to.

"All I've done till this day has been by my own conscience," Dao Wei declared, his voice cutting through the fiends' accusations like a sword through mist. "I don't regret anything! And if I were to meet you again, I'd kill you again!"

His words reverberated through the palace, their power silencing the fiends for a moment. But they quickly recovered, their howls of rage growing louder, more desperate.

"Arrogant fool!" one of the fiends shrieked. "You think yourself righteous, but you're nothing but a murderer!"

"You're no hero!" another spirit spat. "You're a monster!"

But Dao Wei stood his ground, his heart steady. "You may curse me, condemn me, but I will not falter," he said, his voice calm but unyielding. "I walk the path I have chosen, and I will see it through to the end."

With a final, defiant roar, Dao Wei unleashed his Qi, his energy surging forth in a brilliant burst of light. The fiends recoiled, their spectral forms disintegrating in the face of his power. One by one, they faded into nothingness, their voices silenced, their hatred extinguished.

And then, the palace dissolved around him, the golden walls crumbling into dust. Dao Wei found himself standing in a vast, empty void, the darkness pressing in from all sides. But he was not alone.

A figure emerged from the shadows, a man who looked exactly like Dao Wei, yet radiated an aura of pure malevolence. This was his darker self, the embodiment of his deepest fears and darkest desires.

"Why try to blend in with the weaklings and try to save their filthy, worthless lives when we can be the strongest being in the entire existence and make everyone our slaves?" The dark Dao Wei's voice was a low growl, filled with a hunger for power. His eyes glinted with a wicked light, and his smile was cold, devoid of any warmth.

Dao Wei looked at his dark reflection, and despite the twisted nature of the figure before him, he saw the truth in his words. The power to dominate, to conquer, to bend the world to his will—it was within his grasp. But at what cost?

"What's the use of having all that power if we'd just be alone in the end?" Dao Wei's voice was firm, unshaken by the temptation laid before him. "Power without purpose is empty. It's a void that can never be filled, no matter how much you take, no matter how much you destroy."

The dark Dao Wei laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed in the void. "You're a fool! We could rule over all, command the heavens and the earth! And you want to waste that power on protecting the weak? On saving those who are beneath us?"

Dao Wei did not waver. "Strength is not just about dominating others. It's about protecting what you hold dear, about standing up for those who can't stand up for themselves. Power without compassion is nothing but tyranny."