The tide of Death Spirits was endless, and the path ahead was dark and gloomy.
A demon of the North Sea died, letting out a final roar.
A spirit of Fanzhou perished, releasing a shrill, mournful cry.
Beast gods of the East Desolation and tribulation transcendence cultivators of the Central Plains fell one after another, their lives ending with an unwilling shout.
Time passed—one hour, two hours, three hours...
The battle reached a fever pitch.
The youth's hair was disheveled, and the hem of his robe was torn. Saints fell one by one, and even demon immortals could not escape the calamity.
Little Azure Dragon Ao Ba died before his brother's eyes.
Ao Tian, enraged, transformed into a dragon and let out a despairing roar.
He turned to charge into the spirit tide behind them and, at his last breath, self-detonated Above the Heavens.
He used his entire life to write a single moment of brilliance.
Twice they had waged war against Heaven, and twice they had failed.
His life ended, and his path vanished!
In the end, he still could not escape his predetermined fate.
The Ancestor of the Luoyun Sect,
The Palace Master of the Biliu Palace,
The Cliff Master of the Shenshan Cliff,
The old man from the Gujian Peak,
The Ink Qilin of Ancestral Island, the Crane of Yuan Island, the True Phoenix, the Qingluan...
These old monsters, famous across the eight desolations of the mortal realm and revered like gods, were buried among the bones. They turned into a handful of ash or became just another one of the millions of Death Spirits...
Completely anonymous!
They had spent their entire lives seeking the Dao and searching for immortality. They had exhausted their efforts and plotted for ten thousand years, hiding in the shadows and enduring through the ages, all for the moment the gate would reopen so they could ascend to the Heavens.
All for the sake of becoming immortals and gaining longevity.
But,
Only after they had achieved their wish and ascended did they realize that the vision they had pursued their whole lives was actually a dead end.
They died.
They died Above the Heavens.
Despite their great reputations, they didn't even leave a trace of rain or cloud in this realm.
No one would even remember their names.
They arrived with great fanfare and left completely alone.
Looking back at the path to the mortal world, it was empty.
They were unwilling, they were angry, they were despairing, and they died with deep resentment.
In their final moments, they truly experienced the so-called heartlessness of the Great Dao.
It turned out that they, who were as brilliant as the stars in the mortal realm, were nothing more than a speck of dust or a blade of grass Above the Heavens.
The Heavenly Dao is heartless,
Life and death are but a moment,
Immortal and mortal are but a thought,
Regret lasts a lifetime.
...
In the mortal realm of Fanzhou, on the day of the Awakening of Insects, those who had just witnessed their ancestors ascend were still immersed in joy and boasting.
Who would have thought that one piece of bad news after another would already be arriving?
The North Sea,
The East Desolation,
The Central Plains,
The Demon Abyss,
The everlasting lamps enshrined in high pavilions began to go out one by one in the few short hours after the Sky Gate closed.
A bloody truth was laid bare before their eyes.
One second,
They were congratulating the ancestor on his ascension.
The next second,
They were seeing the ancestor off to the afterlife.
A single thought to become an immortal?
A single thought to become a ghost.
It was true that they had gone up to the heavens, but it was also true that they had literally passed away.
That day,
Unlike the bloody slaughter and intense combat Above the Heavens, the mortal realm was filled with the sound of mourning.
“No!!!”
“The Ancestor... is dead!”
“Xu Xian, Wendao Sword Sect, you will all face retribution...”
“A scam! It’s all a scam! This is nothing but a scam...”
At that moment,
People finally realized that everything was a conspiracy. There was no such thing as ascending in broad daylight; it was all a trap.
Some had their dao hearts shattered,
Some were overcome by a rush of blood to the heart,
Some went completely mad.
Occasionally, one could hear cultivators wandering the mortal realm like madmen, shouting at the top of their lungs.
“Don't ascend!”
“Do not ascend!”
They hated the Wendao Sword Sect, and they hated Xu Xian, but they could do nothing. The strongest members of their sects had all ascended, and their soul lamps had all been extinguished.
The strongest remaining among them,
Were a mere few in the great ascension stage.
In contrast, the Wendao Sword Sect was guarded by saints; a single person could sweep the world.
What did they have to fight with?
As for Xu Xian, he had already ascended Above the Heavens. Where could they even go to seek revenge?
Despair,
Grief,
Anger,
Unwillingness,
Bitterness,
All of it eventually turned into a pain that burned them from within, lasting for a thousand years, ten thousand years...
The path to immortality was severed, and the road ahead was vast and uncertain. They didn't even know where to go from here...
Inside the Wendao Sword Sect, news arrived that the everlasting lamps of those who had ascended from across the world were going out one after another.
Several ancestors, pavilion elders, and core disciples of the sect simultaneously appeared at the Immortal Pavilion on Tianjian Peak.
On the fifth floor of the Immortal Pavilion,
Jiang Wanyin, Lei Yunche, Lin Fengmian, Yao Xiqiao, Ye Xianyu, Li Qingshan, Xia Chu Yi, Tu Kongkong, Yao Xiaoxiao, Ruan Hao...
A crowd of people was squeezed together.
The pavilion was filled with figures, yet it was as silent as a winter cicada. Not even the sound of breathing could be heard. Every one of them had their eyes fixed on the everlasting lamps bearing the names “Xu Xian” and “Lu Yuan.”
Their expressions were frantic, and their eyes were filled with worry. Even if the flames merely flickered slightly, their hearts would leap into their throats.
They were afraid—afraid that these two lamps would also go out.
They also prayed—prayed that these two lamps would never go out.
They were cultivators who stood at the highest point of the mortal realm. They had never believed in gods or buddhas, only in the swords in their hands.
But this time, they were praying fervently, pleading with every god, buddha, immortal, or demon they could think of or had ever heard of.
Protect Xu Xian,
Protect Lu Yuan...
Even though they knew how ridiculous such prayers were.
Outside the Immortal Pavilion,
Disciples from the Seven Peaks and Thirteen Halls surrounded the pavilion in layer after layer. Just like the experts inside, they watched in silence and prayed quietly.
May they never go out, and may the pavilion bell never toll...
From noon to dusk, from twilight to sunset, until the river of stars appeared and the evening breeze blew, more and more people gathered, yet not a single person left.
Today,
Should have been a day of great joy for the eleventh ancestor’s ascension to become an immortal,
But the Wendao Sword Sect,
Was deathly silent.
Dark clouds still pressed down on the summit.
The atmosphere,
Was quiet, heavy, and exceptionally oppressive.
...
Above the Heavens, the slaughter had continued for nearly half a day. Of the original team of over four hundred, less than fifty now remained.
Fortunately,
After a period of slaughter, they had finally fought their way out of the tide of Death Spirits under Xu Xian's leadership.
But the flight continued.
Before them,
Was a vast canopy of sky and an infinite gloom. The land they saw was uneven, yet completely empty; not even a single withered tree stump could be seen.
The parched surface was as hard as iron, yet when the wind blew, it could still kick up clouds of dust that filled the air.
Behind them,
The tide of Death Spirits came rolling in like a massive wave, turning everything it passed into a desolate wasteland. They ran and roared, tireless and fearless.
Xu Xian led the remaining survivors as they sped forward aimlessly.
They went from flying at the start to running on foot at the end, simply to save on consumption and take the opportunity to recover some spiritual power. This was to ensure they wouldn't be left behind or exhausted in this endless flight.
Occasionally, someone would run out of strength, but the others would not stop for them. They simply watched with indifference as the person was swallowed by the tide of Death Spirits.
No one would stop.
Stopping meant the end.
Death,
Seemed no longer unusual.
Death,
Could no longer cause even the slightest ripple in their hearts.
From the Little Book Spirit's perspective, she could always see a blood-red figure standing on the rising mountains ahead.
As usual, she raised her left hand and pointed toward the east, seemingly to ensure that Xu Xian would not lose his way.
And Xu Xian would always follow her guidance, continuing forward, always forward...
Even when,
The people beside him asked exactly where they were going,
He remained silent!
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