The mountain gate fell, every inch stained crimson. Saints perished, and blood rained down in torrents.
It was as if...
The heavens were weeping!
On the third day of the great war, all Seven Peaks fell.
The Ancestral Peak’s bell tolled. The sect’s teleportation formations were all activated. A blood-stained Li Qingshan gave the order for the entire sect to retreat...
It was the sign.
The Wendao Sword Sect had been defeated.
The Pavilion Elders and Elders who could still fight covered the juniors' retreat, scattering into smaller groups.
They urged them:
Forget yourselves.
Forget the Wendao Sword Sect.
Forget everything that happened here and start anew...
“Master, I’m not leaving!”
“Ancestor, if we leave, we leave together...”
“I, Niu Batian, would rather die than retreat!”
“Better to be a shattered jade than a whole tile...”
“From the day I entered this mountain, I never intended to leave.”
“Born of Wendao, loyal to Wendao, buried in Wendao...”
Tragic scenes played out one after another through countless unknown disciples, composing a soul-stirring melody from their ordinary lives.
Unafraid of their souls being extinguished, they sought only to dye their blades with blood...
Xu Xian was still alive.
Xu Xian was still fighting.
His eyes were bloodshot as he charged and killed like a savage beast, driven by pure instinct.
The tenth day of the bloody battle.
The mountain gate had completely fallen.
Of the hundred thousand disciples of the Wendao Sword Sect, fewer than one in a hundred remained.
The Elders,
The Pavilion Elders,
All had perished in blood.
Ruan Hao was dead!
Qiaofu was dead!
Yuren was dead!
Elder Yao was captured!
Lin Qianqian was dead!
Zhang Yang was dead!
Liu Qinghui was dead!
Zhou Tao was dead!
Lu Yuan was dead!
Yao Xiaoxiao was dead!
Wen Qingxue... was dead!
...
Lin Fengmian had exhausted his spirit essence and could no longer drive the Ten Thousand Soul Banner. With his dying breath, he handed the Ten Thousand Demon Banner to Tu Kongkong.
He whispered, “Little Twelve, return this to its original owner.”
Lei Yunche’s Startling Thunder snapped, and his cold armor shattered. He fell into a deep ravine, perishing amidst a curtain of lightning.
Yao Xiqiao self-destructed outside the mountain. His final bloom, the fire of his life, spread for ten thousand miles, turning the sky a burning red.
Jiang Wanyin... died of exhaustion!
Ye Xianyu’s white robes were stained with blood as she perished in the mortal realm. She looked back one last time and said, “Little Eleven, go...”
Li Qingshan went mad again.
He perished together with the spirit body of a demon immortal.
In the flash of Li Qingshan’s end,
The mountains and rivers lost their color.
Dead.
They were all dead.
Everyone was dead!
Whether by design or coincidence, when the battle reached the dawn of the eleventh day, only Xu Xian remained alone amidst the collapsed ruins before the broken mountain gate.
He leaned on his broken sword for support.
In his arms, he held the still-warm body of Xia Chu Yi.
In his ears,
Chu Yi’s dying words still echoed softly.
She had said to Xu Xian, “Uncle, it hurts... in my next life, I don’t want to be a cultivator anymore...”
Next life?
Was there even a next life?
The dawn light spilled down, and the air was thick with the pungent scent of blood. Embers drifted with the smoke through the wasteland of the thousand peaks.
It was like a snowfall, telling of the profound sorrow of this world.
Xu Xian raised his blood-stained eyes.
Before him, behind him, and in every direction, powerful figures stood like a forest—saints, demon immortals, demon gods...
And countless cultivators of various races.
Some he had seen before,
Some were familiar,
And some he had never met.
They stood in silence, watching him, scrutinizing him, as if watching a grand joke.
The end of a legend.
The downfall of a youth.
Some eyes held respect,
Some were tinged with regret,
While others held only mockery and ridicule.
A nameless saint spoke, his voice low and resonant like a bell. “Xu Xian, surrender. You are the only one left.”
Surrender?
Xu Xian looked around, his gaze dark.
It was true.
The entire sect had been wiped out.
Only he remained.
Further away, Tu Sisi had imprisoned Tu Kongkong, leaving her unable to move. Yet Tu Kongkong’s screams still drifted faintly toward him.
“Master, run... run quickly!”
“You wench, let me go! I’m going to kill you all, kill every last one of you!”
“...”
The old Daoist gave a long sigh and persuaded, “Five hundred years ago, you did not slaughter us all, leaving us a thread of life. Today, if you surrender, we are also willing to spare your life.”
The other saints, demon immortals, demon gods, and spirits gave their silent consent.
Xu Xian laughed.
“Heh!”
Spare my life.
How nicely put.
They wouldn't kill him; they would keep him alive only because they wanted the opportunities he possessed.
The Sword Tower?
The Sword Mound?
He was the only key to opening them.
They were things that no one in this world did not desire.
Hypocrites.
He did not expose them; it was something everyone already understood.
His gaze coldly swept over the gathered beings as he sneered, “I truly regret it... that I didn't kill every last one of you back then...”
“Years ago, you were too arrogant,” one person said.
“There is no medicine for regret in this world,” a beast said.
“This is your fate, Xu Xian,” a spirit said.
“I’m sorry!” Jin Qing said in shame.
Xu Xian shook his head, his disheveled hair fluttering slightly. “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters.”
He laid Xia Chu Yi’s body on the ground, not forgetting to smooth out her blood-stained skirt.
He gripped his hilt,
Used the sword to push himself up,
Staggered as he found his footing,
And his dark eyes turned icy cold.
His blade pointed toward the sky full of powerful beings. Curling his blood-stained lips, he challenged them provocatively, “Come! Let us fight again!”
He would rather die than surrender.
The moment he raised his sword, Xu Xian gave them his definitive answer.
If they wanted to fight,
Then fight.
Until the very end.
“Stubborn and recalcitrant.”
“Fine, fine.”
“We couldn't have let you live anyway. Since you seek death so intently, you cannot blame us...”
“I’ll do it!”
The sanctimonious crowd spoke a few useless words and gave a few long sighs.
They no longer hesitated, nor did they hold back against Xu Xian. They formed hand seals, chanted incantations, and swung their blades...
Divine abilities were unleashed,
Covering the sky and earth as they surged toward him.
They intended to bury this former number one in the mortal realm with their strongest blow.
This was the final shred of respect in their remaining humanity.
“Send the Leader to the Heavens!”
A world of divine abilities converged, a chaos of five colors and ten lights. Spiritual power, demon power, and demonic energy raged...
Yet the voice of a deity whispered from the starry sea of the firmament.
“Tower,”
“Rise!”
Xu Xian released the White Jade Capital.
Five floors opened simultaneously.
Five swords emerged together.
In his final bloom.
He controlled the five swords, sweeping away the flood of divine abilities, tearing through the void as he charged upward.
He let out a thunderous roar to the mortal world.
“Slay!”
The sound struck terror into the hearts of a million cultivators.
“All together!”
“Kill him!”
“Well met!”
The Sword Tower appeared,
The Sword Tower vanished,
With the sword rising from the White Jade Capital, the youth greatly slew the mortal realm.
Sword light raged,
Sword hums whistled.
The youth finally perished in blood.
A final sword strike fed back from within his body.
Another cry of “Sword, come!”
It struck down dozens of powerful masters.
“Ah!!”
A cry rang out, filled with unwillingness, helplessness, and despair, yet also with No Regrets.
He got his wish.
Fighting until the final chapter.
Falling amidst the overwhelming divine might of the world.
...
The ending,
Was not rewritten.
That great war lasted for a full twelve days.
The Wendao Sword Sect,
Every member of the sect fought to the death.
Wiped out completely.
Leaving only vertical lines in the history books to be sung across the world.
Xu Xian fell asleep.
Or perhaps he died.
What happened after,
He did not know.
...
In the long silence, he suddenly awoke. An unknown space—dark and damp.
His body was bound by dense, interlocking iron chains.
He could not move.
He couldn't muster even a shred of strength.
He was lost.
He was numb.
He was in a daze.
Where was this?
“You’re awake?”
A familiar voice rang out. Xu Xian looked to the side and saw that mass of black mist again, condensing into the face of a monarch.
Mocking, playful, and gloating.
It was filled with silent provocation.
Xu Xian’s brow furrowed as he struggled to remember everything that had happened.
Pain
Surged within his chest, turbulent and overwhelming. A suffocating sorrow permeated his entire body.
He gritted his teeth.
“I didn't die!”
Even after all that, he hadn't died?
The Sovereign said playfully, “Indeed, you didn't die. I saved you. Are you moved?”
Rate on N.U.
