The Snow of the East Desolation

Autumn had passed and winter had arrived. East of the Wild River, a light snow began to fall.

By the Divine Moon Pool...

The once majestic and magnificent White Emperor Palace had not been repaired since its destruction eight years ago. It remained a landscape of broken walls and ruins, overgrown with weeds and tangled vines.

Bai Ze, his face as pale as paper, sat upon a dark throne. He stared blankly at the sky beyond the heavens, lost in thought.

His gaze extended outward. The canopy of the sky held three distinct colors: directly above was the vast, bleak gray of deep winter; slightly to the north, demon qi surged toward the heavens; and on the other side, spiritual qi churned violently.

Though he could not see what was happening there with the naked eye, he could guess. A battle had surely broken out.

The far north, the heart of the Northern Borders... the Central Plains, the North Sea...

Only the Demon Abyss was missing.

After a while, a beast arrived to report. "Emperor, the latest news has arrived. The people of the North Sea and the Central Plains have made their move."

Bai Ze gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment. "Mhm."

The messenger stole a glance at the frail-looking man on the throne and asked in a low, tentative voice, "The venerables wish to ask... are we still waiting?"

Answering a different question than the one asked, Bai Ze muttered to himself, "Has the demon race moved?"

The messenger shook his head. "No, everything is as usual."

Bai Ze let out a sigh and murmured, "It seems the Demon Abyss truly will not move."

The messenger hesitated, then analyzed carefully, "Regarding the matter of the Emperor's Tomb and the standoff at the Demon Abyss, everyone in the world can see it. The Wendao Sword Sect is intent on protecting the Demon Abyss. Perhaps they have long shared some unspeakable secret in private."

Bai Ze glanced at the messenger.

An unspeakable secret?

There was one indeed, but it was not what ordinary people imagined. It all stemmed from a single person.

Xu Xian.

Or perhaps he should be called Bai Mang.

He was precisely one of the crucial factors that made Bai Ze hesitate and struggle.

In just a few short decades, that child had gone from appearing in the world to making a name for himself, turning countless impossibilities into possibilities. Because of this, Bai Ze was afraid.

He feared that this time, the death trap facing the Wendao Sword Sect would also be broken by him. If that happened, the East Desolation would not only fail to get its revenge but would also suffer even greater losses. Then, he, Bai Ze, would truly become the sinner of the entire East Desolation.

But... at this stage, he could not imagine how the Wendao Sword Sect could possibly win.

"Fighting on three fronts... losing is only a matter of time. Fine, if they don't move, they don't move. There aren't many left in the Demon Abyss anyway..." he remarked with a strange sense of lament.

The messenger said nothing. He also felt that the Wendao Sword Sect’s defeat was inevitable. Therefore, they had to act quickly; otherwise, they wouldn't even get a sip of the leftovers.

Bai Ze gazed toward that distant sword city. At this moment, he made his final decision.

"Strike the pass."

A light flickered in the messenger's eyes, and he said excitedly, "Understood!"

Bai Ze waved his hand, and the messenger vanished in the blink of an eye.

Then, countless beast roars echoed through the Great Desolation. Various mountain-sized behemoths emerged from the mountain ranges, frenzied and roaring as they ran, charging toward the new city standing on the banks of the Wild River...

The Sword Qi Great Wall welcomed the first snow of winter. The Wild River was turbulent, its currents surging, yet the snow fell without a trace, and the frost found it difficult to settle on the water.

Atop the high walls, countless sword flags fluttered in the wind.

The demon hunters in the city had all departed several days ago. Now, the high walls were silent.

Hearing the distant roars of beasts, the defenders rose in unison. Some leaned over the battlements to watch, while others leaned against the cold brick walls to look out sideways.

Some gripped their swords nervously, some drank wine with indifference, and others turned their gaze toward the ancestor sitting atop the city wall with a sword across his knees.

Nervousness? Fear? Excitement? It was all there.

They knew they had come.

In the eight years since the new city was built, it was about to face its first battle. They did not find it strange; the city was built for this, and they had come for this as well.

Wen Qingxue arrived at Yao Xiqiao's side at some unknown point, maintaining her usual cold and distant demeanor. Even before the ancestor, her aloof personality remained unchanged.

"Ancestor, they are coming," she reminded him.

Yao Xiqiao's finger lightly tapped the hilt of the sword resting on his knees. He did not open his eyes.

"I heard them!"

Wen Qingxue glanced at him, then retracted her gaze and said no more. However, the fingers gripping her sword tightened slightly.

Yao Xiqiao opened his eyes slightly and looked at the young girl beside him. Sensing her tension, he offered a rare word of comfort. "Don't be nervous. It's much thunder but little rain. There's no one left in the East Desolation."

Wen Qingxue stubbornly denied it. "I am not."

Yao Xiqiao shook his head and smiled.

This child was truly like Little Ten when she was young. It was just a pity that Little Ten was later raised wrong by Little Nine.

Wen Qingxue remained silent.

Currently, the Wendao Sword Sect was facing its greatest catastrophe in ten thousand years. A few days ago, several Pavilion Elders and a large number of disciples from the Sword Qi Great Wall had been redeployed back to the sect. Now, the remaining disciples numbered fewer than two thousand.

Aside from the ancestor before her, she was already the strongest person here.

Yet, they were about to face the entire East Desolation.

Although the Eighth Ancestor had told her more than once not to fear—that they only needed to maintain the city's formations and block the ordinary demon beasts—he claimed he could personally slaughter anything above the beast sovereign stage.

But bearing such a burden for the first time, how could she not be nervous or anxious?

She had personally participated in the battle eight years ago, charging and killing alongside the Little Grand-Uncle for several days. She knew very well that the demons of the East Desolation were strong, bloodthirsty, and violent.

Not only that, but even though she was on the city wall, her heart remained with the sect.

The Sword Qi Great Wall only faced a crippled East Desolation, yet the situation was already this grim. Back at the mountain gate, they were facing nearly the entire world, plus the North Sea...

Could they hold out?

Would the Little Grand-Uncle be all right?

He loved to show off and was so impulsive; he must be charging at the very front...

As she thought, her chaotic reflections grew louder than the distant beast cries.

...

Meanwhile, outside the Wendao Sword Sect, everything was in chaos. Those who had come to watch the spectacle or pick up people had already retreated a thousand miles to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

How was the battle going?

It was impossible to see clearly; one could only hear ear-splitting booms and see blinding flashes of light. Terrifying silhouettes flickered in and out of view, and roars echoed through the clouds.

Jiang Wanyin utilized her secret divine ability, the Water Clone Technique, to entangle herself with dozens of old monsters. The sky remained dark, but the rain of swords had long since stopped. The battlefield spanned every corner outside the Wendao Sword Sect’s mountain gate.

There were chases among the mountains, collisions in the sky, and conquests across the vast wilderness...

Sword qi, lightning, great waves, and raging flames erupted. Golden divine generals were summoned. Titanic beasts manifested their true forms. Mountain spirits and water monsters unleashed mountain and river forbidden arts, redirecting rivers and reshaping the landscape.

The fighting was inextricable.

Fighting dozens of old monsters alone without falling into a disadvantage—everyone watching was left speechless with shock. Her strength was so immense that regardless of the outcome of this battle, she had already created a legend.

Before the Longevity Bridge, the great river had already receded. Cultivators of the tribulation transcendence and great ascension stages from various sects and clans attacked in groups. The Wendao Sword Sect met the challenge, their peerless sword array lined up in a row.

Countless giant swords condensed from spiritual qi crisscrossed the field. Foundation-level divine weapons were unleashed to block the incoming enemies.

The two Guest Elders of the tribulation transcendence stage charged out of the mountain gate alongside Ye Xianyu, rampaging and slaughtering through the center of the battlefield. The sharpness of their blades was invincible.

Li Qingshan and his group patrolled outside the great gorge, striking at opportune moments. Ruan Hao, Elder Yao, and Han Yi were all among them.

Tens of thousands of sect disciples rushed between the mountains and the gorge. Whenever a formation collapsed and the defending disciples perished, others would immediately rush out to take their place. They raised the formations once more to block the enemy.

The grand battle, the chaotic battle, the frantic battle—it was a tangled, scorching mess.