chapter 81

Chaos vanished, and daylight returned.

The Spirit Emperor had to fully confront the tribulation lightning, so he lifted the King of the Chishan's banishment decree that had been placed over the city of Du'e.

He had already found the most suitable spiritual body for cultivation and had reached the peak of the Twelve Levels of Spirit Veins. Spirit cultivators, evil spirits, mortals—whoever survived, the Spirit Emperor did not care.

He was the Dao itself, and as a soon-to-be ascended god, all living beings in the world were equal in his eyes, as insignificant as grass and weeds.

The King of the Chishan, the first to notice that there were no more Dao marks in Du'e City, broke through the barrier. Soon after, the second, the third...

Even though Wen Xun had already devoured most of the King of the Chishan, the thick, dark miasma still surged into the Spirit Domain and the human world.

In a thousand years, the royal city had never been this chaotic.

In the quiet Smoke Willow Alley, drunken people were everywhere, still lost in the pleasures of last night.

Under the sky full of dark miasma, the servant boy possessed by the King of the Chishan opened his eyes, and in the next moment, he snapped the neck of a sleeping nobleman. His figure was like a ghost, floating out the window to continue searching for spiritual pills and bodies to devour.

Screams rang out in all directions as people fled in panic.

Someone shouted the first cry: "Run! The barrier of Du'e City has broken!"

Fear spread like wind, instantly reaching every corner.

The bloated Master Zhang pushed his concubine to block the way and tried to escape. But before he even reached the door, his chest was pierced by a blast of black miasma.

His eyes widened as he fell, unable to understand until the moment of his death why the barrier of Du'e City had suddenly broken, or why the King of the Chishan had come to the royal city.

Wasn't it always the lowly commoners from distant counties who blocked the cracks in the barrier?

Where had his servants and spirit guards gone?

No one could answer him, and everyone was terrified. The tribulation clouds in the sky closed in, waiting for the final opportunity to descend.

When that moment came, not only would the Spirit Domain fall, but the human world would also become the new hell of the evil god.

Yue Huai Le had settled her mother and aunt, put on her battle armor, and hurried to follow her older brother to kill the King of the Chishan.

Along the way, she encountered several disciples of the immortal sects returning to the Spirit Domain, each one fighting fiercely against the enemies.

A few black-armored guards had a dazed, fearful look in their eyes. Yue Huai Le kicked one after another: "What are you waiting for? In times like this, you're still thinking of serving the Spirit Emperor?"

The Three Realms belonged to everyone. The home was about to be destroyed, and yet they were still waiting for the orders of that evil demon from the dynasty.

At this point, the leader of the black-armored guards snapped out of it: "The Emperor isn't the Emperor anymore. He was already possessed!"

Only then did the black-armored guards hurriedly join the battlefield.

Among everyone, the calmest were the guards from Che Tian Mansion, who had been pushed aside recently.

They were specialized in exterminating evil spirits, and their movements were swift and precise.

In the past, the common people had feared and hated them, but today they longed to see their figures.

Yue Wu Jiu, wearing battle armor and carrying his sword, stood beside his sister.

In his memory, his sister always wore beautiful silk skirts and loved to show off, but now she had unknowingly grown up, replacing the silk skirt with battle armor.

He looked up, seeing evil spirits everywhere, but also companions standing firm.

Fang Huai, leading the Fang family, urgently activated the formation to shelter the civilians.

Seeing the situation growing dire and impossible to hold on much longer, the formation began to dim as more and more people gathered. But then, the formation flared brighter. Fang Huai looked up and saw Qu Lan Yue walking toward him.

"Miss Qu, you take over for a while," she said, holding him steady.

Further away, disciples from Penglai, rough sword cultivators, and long-armed disciples from Changya Mountain with gold-patterned seals on their clothes rushed to provide reinforcements.

At this moment, to protect their home, their last pure land, there was no distinction between identity—only the evil spirits and the King of the Chishan were their enemies.

Yue Huai Le murmured, "We will win, won't we?"

Yue Wu Jiu gazed in the direction of the palace. The Spirit Domain was in chaos, but that place was even more terrifying, emanating a strange, deathly calm.

He pursed his lips, his eyes resolute. "Big brother will win, and so will we."

Within a radius of several dozen miles around the palace, no living creature remained. The main hall had almost become a pile of ruins. Amidst the rubble stood a figure with bloodstains at the corner of his mouth, standing under the tribulation lightning.

Yue Zhi Heng wiped the blood from his lips and looked at the Spirit Emperor.

The Spirit Emperor had long abandoned his decaying body, and now his true form appeared. It was a dark gold soul body, towering over ten zhang in height, sitting cross-legged like the Buddha.

The Spirit Emperor had a surprisingly young and compassionate face, as if time had frozen thousands of years ago.

Yet, within his soul body, black miasma coiled around him, turning the gold into an ominous darkness, with countless cries emanating from it. These were the King of the Chishan or spiritual cultivators the Spirit Emperor had devoured over the years.

These experiences had helped him become the strongest in the Three Realms. Despite changing countless bodies, he had never shaken off the traces. Sin was sin.

The Spirit Emperor formed a seal with one hand, his gaze not compassionate, but cold and sinister.

— He had failed to possess.

Just now, when he had discarded his previous body and attempted to enter Yue Zhi Heng's spiritual body, Yue Zhi Heng had unsealed the Compassion Lotus Seal. In that moment, Yue Zhi Heng was enveloped in the ice-blue lotus seal, his cultivation rising from the Ninth Level to the Eleventh.

He had left only one last path… because he had promised that person. He had to do his best to return.

The Spirit Emperor immediately sneered. So, he had used the Compassion Lotus Seal of the ancient Changyin clan.

But the difference of a single level was a gulf, like a chasm between heaven and earth.

He had spent thousands of years cultivating to achieve the power to change the world with a flick of his hand, yet how old was his descendant now?

To think he was so delusional.

The clash of supreme spiritual cultivators was decided in a single exchange—buildings crumbled, and not a blade of grass survived.

However, when the Spirit Emperor withdrew his hand, his expression darkened. Yue Zhi Heng, at the peak of the Eleventh Level, could not withstand him in direct combat and was wounded. Yet his soul body was also harmed, forcefully repelling the blow.

For thousands of years, the Spirit Emperor's cultivation method had only allowed him to enter a blood-related body. There could be only one possibility for failure.

The Spirit Emperor looked coldly at Yue Zhi Heng and said, "A fine… descendant of the Yue family."

Yue Zhi Heng raised his gaze. At this point, all truths were laid bare.

Zhan Yunwei had guessed correctly. Years ago, when the purest spiritual practitioner, Madam Xuan, had been captured and brought close to Du'e City, she was already pregnant. Yet the time was short, and the two tiny fetuses, as small as dust, were so minute that even their mother could not sense them.

The Spirit Emperor had, at that time, poured large amounts of evil energy into her body to ensure no mistakes would be made.

The infants could not survive in such an environment—only a child born of evil spirits could grow in the miasma.

In time, Yue Qingluo, the child who was born, exhibited all the characteristics of an evil spirit's offspring, and Yue Zhi Heng's body could endlessly contain evil energy.

But today, the Spirit Emperor finally understood that those two tiny infants, like dust, had foolishly absorbed the evil energy and stubbornly survived.

The person before him, born in a tomb, looked down upon by the world, yet still standing here today, was ready to face him to the death.

Under the raging wind, Yue Zhi Heng wore a silver-patterned black robe, calm yet arrogant: "Your Majesty, do you think you can still ascend without a spiritual body?"

The Spirit Emperor glared at Yue Zhi Heng. Even at this point, he was still the only Twelfth-Level spiritual cultivator in the Three Realms, the number one under the Heavens.

What if he could not ascend?

With a sinister gleam, he responded, "It doesn't matter. I will kill you, then suppress my cultivation once again."

Once the tribulation clouds dispersed, he would drive the evil spirits back to Du'e City and treat the remaining cultivators like cattle, until a truly usable spiritual body was born.

He came from thousands of years ago, with the power to reverse the world and suppress the tribulation lightning, with countless opportunities to try again.

Did the cultivator before him have such a chance?

Everyone knew, even if he spared Yue Zhi Heng's life, with the Compassion Lotus Seal opened to this extent, how long could Yue Zhi Heng live?

He was destined to die here today.

The Spirit Emperor raised his hand, his palm forming the contours of a divine seal. The gesture seemed slow, but could flatten mountains and seas in an instant, even leveling the entire royal city.

Yue Zhi Heng leaped into the air, formed a seal with one hand, and his eyes blazed with the blossoming lotus mark.

Countless shadow soldiers appeared in his line of sight—thousands upon thousands—resolute and fearless, silently forming a demon-exterminating formation, trapping the Spirit Emperor within it.

At this moment, a figure in the air, wearing a silver-white robe covered with lotus patterns, looked down from above with cold, indifferent eyes. He met the Spirit Emperor's gaze and coldly uttered a single word: "Exterminate." At this moment, it was impossible to tell who was closer to being a deity.

The grand and mighty demon-exterminating formation, made up of thousands of fearless shadow soldiers, would ensure that the Spirit Emperor would sleep eternally here.

The Spirit Emperor had thousands of years at his disposal, so what? He would use the will of ten thousand people to bury him!

Trapped within the demon-exterminating formation, the Spirit Emperor appeared dazed. The last time something this grand reversed the world and suppressed the evil spirits, it had been when the last member of the Changyin clan perished.

Back then, he had coldly watched that person lead her people to martyrdom. He had wished for her death to prove she was wrong, yet he had also wished for her to live, to live and repent before him.

Three thousand six hundred years… So it turned out, he had never forgotten.

He had always viewed all life as ants, because his own people, his contemporaries, had long since vanished from the world. His old friends had departed too long ago.

But the demon-exterminating formation, after more than three thousand years, had been used by another spiritual cultivator.

The Spirit Emperor looked at Yue Zhi Heng and had to admit that, from that day to this, he was his last true opponent.

Pei Yujing had arrived too late. When he arrived, even though he had mentally prepared himself, he was still shaken by the scene before him.

Over thirty thousand shadow soldiers had dwindled to only a few thousand, relentless and fearless, once again trapping the Spirit Emperor within the formation. The balance of Yin and Yang was skewed—this was a fight to the death.

Silver-white and dark golden energies intertwined in the air. Every strand of silver-white energy was a dissipated shadow soldier.

The Spirit Emperor still remained as immovable as a Buddha, but the dark golden energy on his body continued to pour out.

In contrast, the other figure in the air resembled a saintly figure from the lotus, his eyes cold and filled with pity.

Pei Yujing almost did not recognize this person as Yue Zhi Heng.

Indeed, before coming, the Penglai Master had already revealed everything that had happened. The Compassion Lotus Seal… Pei Yujing's gaze was complicated. Yue Zhi Heng, in order to keep the Spirit Emperor here, had exhausted every last bit of his power.

A sense of tragic solemnity filled Pei Yujing's heart.

He knew that Yue Zhi Heng could never go back.

When Yue Zhi Heng sensed Pei Yujing, the young master leading the immortal sect, had arrived, his gaze was calm and indifferent. The two exchanged no words.

He turned his gaze away and looked in the direction of Fenhe County.

That was his home. Originally… someone had been waiting for him. But he had already broken his promise. All thirty thousand shadow soldiers were doomed to sacrifice. As the commander, as long as he had a breath left, he had to kill the Spirit Emperor.

He only felt a little regretful. The next autumn, he would no longer be able to watch the falling leaves with Miss Zhan. But by then, without the Spirit Emperor, she should be able to return to Changya Mountain.

The Twelfth-Level Spirit Veins were already immortal and unhurt. Only the ancient demon-exterminating formation held a glimmer of hope.

Pei Yujing understood the situation and joined the battle.

This time, he thought of nothing. He didn't think about the person fighting alongside him, his master, who had been the sworn enemy he had battled for years. Nor did he consider the meaning of facing such a powerful enemy, one who, for him, a mere Ninth-Level spiritual cultivator, should have been insurmountable.

The cries of the common people, the turbulent rivers and mountains, the countless memories of practicing swordsmanship in his youth—these images flashed through his mind, as if they had all been leading to this moment.

The divine sword gleamed through the dark golden light in the sky. But today, it was brighter than ever, free from the dust that had once tarnished its blade.

The sword in his hand had finally become his own, cutting through all the darkness of the world.

It was also the only sword that could wound the Spirit Emperor.

The Spirit Emperor grew increasingly weaker but could not help but laugh maniacally, repeatedly saying, "Good! A capable one has emerged, the dynasty is overturned." It was clear that he had not been dealing with just one person.

The prophecy, the divination that had been so clear, flashed before his eyes. Everyone knew he had ordered Pei Yujing's death, but the Spirit Emperor didn't care about that. He despised divination.

Three thousand years ago, the ancient high priest of the Changyin Clan had foretold that he was no good, that his sins were too heavy, that he lacked compassion, and that he would eventually bring about his own destruction.

Yet, three thousand years had passed, and the last remnants of the Changyin Clan were all dead. He had survived, and even become an existence that could control the wind and rain.

The Demon-Exterminating Formation continued to weaken him, and the divine sword started to leave scars on his body.

The shadow soldiers one by one vanished, and the disciples of the immortal sect, red-eyed and determined, rushed to take their place. Inside the Demon-Exterminating Formation, hardly anyone survived against the Spirit Emperor—like smashing eggs against a rock. More and more fell.

Pei Yujing turned around and saw his senior brother lying in a pool of blood, and his eyes turned red with grief.

The Spirit Emperor was indeed growing weaker. He knew that, at this rate, Yue Zhi Heng really could kill him. Slowly, he rose. The sacrifice of the Changyin Clan to protect the people of the world flashed before his eyes. Today, however, the Spirit Emperor had become the demon to be exterminated.

"She and her clan were not truly successful. And now, you ants, you dare to slaughter a god?" He knew that today was the day of his defeat.

But what did those thousands of years of cultivation matter now? These young cultivators, whose fate papers were nearly blurred, how could they understand the full extent of his history?

Yue Zhi Heng furrowed his brow, a bad premonition gnawing at him. "Everyone, retreat!"

The Spirit Emperor raised his hand, thrusting it through his chest to retrieve a drop of golden heart-blood.

Even though Pei Yujing didn't recognize what it was, the overwhelming pressure emanating from it made his pupils contract, and he quickly tried to avoid it.

But it was too late. The drop of heart-blood fell to the ground, and the entire imperial palace turned into a land of chaos in an instant.

With one thought, life was created; with another, it was destroyed.

It was the creative power of a god, but also the power to annihilate the world.

All the remaining shadow soldiers perished, and those slow-moving cultivators were instantly submerged in the chaos.

The tribulation lightning above faded, but the sun and moon were dimmed.

Pei Yujing spat out a mouthful of blood, feeling as though something was pulling him endlessly downwards, unable to resist even a bit. It became hard to even raise the divine sword. He saw the chaos continuing to expand, spreading outward. Desperate, he tried to get up.

When the Demon-Exterminating Formation shattered, Yue Zhi Heng, too, was at his limit.

The silver-white lotus patterns around him dissipated, and Yue Zhi Heng struggled to stay awake, wondering what the Spirit Emperor, on the brink of death, intended to do.

Thousands of years of cultivation and effort had nearly come to nothing. The Spirit Emperor would never accept dying like this.

Was he trying to turn the royal city into a second Du'e City? To return everything to chaos? As long as he still had a breath, he would have the opportunity to come back after millennia.

Yue Zhi Heng knew he had to stop him, but he had been fighting to the end, and now his fingers were beginning to slowly dissipate.

He closed his eyes but was still too late.

The fingertips were the first to disappear. Unlike others who could leave behind their souls in this chaotic land after death, his vitality had been exhausted by the Ice Lotus. If he left this world, nothing would remain.

Scenes from his life passed before his eyes—his youth spent warming up in the tomb with the mute girl, days spent chopping wood and cultivating on the mountain, and his time as the head of the Tiance Mansion, arrogantly ruling his domain...

Finally, the image of the girl he met when he was sixteen flashed before him.

She crouched down, smacked his palm, then gave him the life-saving jade.

"You promised me, you would learn the principles of this peace jade, live on, and if you become a spiritual cultivator in the future, try your best to benefit the people."

Eleven years had passed.

His body was slowly disappearing, but he could still see the girl before him. In a hoarse voice, he murmured, "I've tried my best."

She smiled gently, softly replying, "I know."

Thank you, Yue Zhi Heng, for holding on for so many years because of something I said when you were young.

She cradled his disappearing fingertips as if holding the most precious treasure in the world. "It's alright, Lord Yue. Leave the rest to me."

The pain in his fingertips, the sharpest ache, gradually ceased. In the brief moment when Yue Zhi Heng was dazed, he realized it was not an illusion.

In the endless darkness of chaos, something began to light up, little by little.

Like scattered stars, they reignited the land beneath his feet.

Zhan Yunwei let go of his hand and slowly walked toward the Spirit Emperor. With each step she took, the chaos vanished, and daylight returned.