Chapter 231: Shentu Cangluan

The sounds of slaughter shook the heavens.

The path was paved with mountains of corpses and seas of blood, like a crimson carpet that spread from the long street, gradually covering the entire imperial city. Even an unending inferno could not consume it.

Ning Changjiu remained clad in white, his hair black, but his body had turned golden, a hue like a freshly cast ancient bell in a temple.

Wielding his Jiaosi, he charged into the ancient beasts, slaughtering them. Amidst the flying flesh and blood, he had transformed into a blood-soaked Asura. All the splashing blood was ruthlessly torn apart by his saber, only to create even larger curtains of blood with each continuous strike.

Ning Changjiu was not using any specific saber techniques; he was merely slashing and hacking. Though his figure appeared far from burly, when he plunged into the crowd, he resembled a giant bear with powerful muscles and bones.

The endless slaughter was like a descending nightmare. Ning Changjiu, saber in hand, fought from one end of the street to the other, then back again. He had broken countless Jiaosi horns, but with the constant stream of war beasts, his supply of weapons was also unending. In the earliest wars, humans had indeed fashioned sharp sabers from the bones and teeth of these ancient beasts.

Ning Changjiu was fighting with bloodlust, like an invincible god. No matter how ferocious or gigantic the ancient beast, he could effortlessly tear through its flesh and crush its heart.

The flying fire phoenixes and divine sparrows were like moths drawn to a flame, becoming souls sacrificed to his blades.

He continued to slaughter, eyes red with bloodlust, completely lost to himself. His limbs grew numb, his pupils turned increasingly cold, and the pungent smell of blood became commonplace. The will of the Asura, like a cruel slave driver, relentlessly extracted power from his body.

At one moment, Ning Changjiu struck a pouncing fire sparrow with a thousand-pound punch. The sparrow suddenly transformed into a phantom image of Zhao Xiang'er. Ning Changjiu's heart jolted, and though he tried to retract his fist, it was too late; the sheer force of his punch alone tore the fire sparrow to shreds.

He was unsure if this sight was an illusion, but it injected a sliver of clarity into his mind, which had been consumed by slaughter.

His figure slowly came to a halt.

Only then did Ning Changjiu realize that the corpses piled at his feet were as high as a building. From the mangled remains, thick blood mixed with organs oozed out, blending into a nauseating color. Yet, the ancient beasts and divine sparrows seemed endless; they were born from fire and, upon death, transformed back into burning flames.

Ning Changjiu looked up and discovered something even more terrifying: he was not the only one doing the killing here; the ancient beasts were also slaughtering each other.

They tore at each other's vital necks, their sharp claws ripping through flesh and piercing hearts, only to be disemboweled by even stronger beasts surging from behind.

Ning Changjiu's eyes widened, his resolve wavering.

He suddenly understood: while the Asura body granted him power, it also, like a plague, infected all living beings with its ferocious intent to kill. This was the true feast of slaughter, the very essence of Asura's evil.

Zhao Xiang'er's projection as a divine sparrow earlier had been her realizing something was wrong and wanting to warn him.

A chill ran through Ning Changjiu's heart, and he felt a slight pang of fear. He understood now: no matter how long he killed, no matter if he created mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, it would be futile. This was not the path to enlightenment recognized by this world; it was a sin, like greed, hatred, and delusion, not a means of ascension. If he had continued to slaughter like that, he would have eventually collapsed from exhaustion, becoming prey himself, to be killed by other ancient beasts.

The Asura itself was a double-edged saber!

Slaughter could not end this purgatory; instead, it would only turn it into a more gruesome burial ground.

Ning Changjiu calmed down.

As his inner peace settled, the deafening sounds of slaughter gradually faded.

This world was both Zhao Xiang'er's world and a projection of his own mind.

The golden flames on his body gradually subsided. He bent down, knowing there were only two ways to leave this world: find a rift in the world, or defeat its master.

However, as he looked around, the divine palace in the sky was gone. Where was Zhao Xiang'er now?

The blood on the long street burned away, transforming into flames.

Tall steeds still galloped forward, pulling golden chariots, but Ning Changjiu chose to actively avoid battle. He realized that the more he killed, the fiercer the world's flames burned. If he continued, he would be exhausted first, without even needing Zhao Xiang'er to make a move.

He had to find Zhao Xiang'er!

But the imperial city was vast; where could she be hiding?

Ning Changjiu believed that if this world was like the one outside, then the main hall's location should be unchangeable.

Ning Changjiu summoned the Golden Crow. By now, the Golden Crow was several times larger than before, big enough to carry him in flight.

While fending off the pecking birds, he directed the Golden Crow back to where Zhao Xiang'er had first disappeared. He opened his sword-eyes to search but found nothing.

"Could she have guessed I'd think of this, so what she left initially was just an illusion, and the real main hall is hidden elsewhere?" Ning Changjiu pondered for a moment, then began to consider where he would build the hall if he were Zhao Xiang'er.

He first went to the old imperial palace grounds. At the end of the golden steps, the throne had been fully restored and looked magnificent.

Ning Changjiu sat on the throne, casually deflecting several blades that emerged from the void. He gazed forward but found nothing.

After that, he went from the well entrance to the underground palace, and from there to the Nine Spirit Platform.

He scanned the surroundings from the Nine Spirit Platform, but still found no trace.

But he was not disappointed.

He looked at a specific spot and suddenly smiled.

"I watched the sunset with Your Highness. Why do you bother me?"

Ning Changjiu softly murmured, then smiled faintly, "I've come to disturb Your Highness."

He walked through the imperial city, and outside the former site of Qianyu Hall, he saw the tall banyan tree.

The edges of the banyan leaves were also burning.

He walked beneath it and, like a child, clumsily climbed the tree.

He sat on a sturdy branch, gazing into the distance, just as the girl in the black dress had done years ago.

Back then, she spent her days climbing mountains and crossing rivers, still a disheveled tomboy. She wore black dresses not because they made her skin look fairer, but because black hid dirt well.

He looked towards the direction of the Western Kingdom.

Amidst the flames, a magnificent, illusory hall floated grandly.

"I found you," Ning Changjiu sighed in relief.

The divine hall lowered a staircase to him.

On the staircase, a maiden in palace attire slowly descended. Her face was exquisite, yet she seemed as stiff as a doll. She wore a luxurious and precious gown that made her figure appear slender and tall. She elegantly approached Ning Changjiu and smiled, "Your Highness wishes to see you."

She was an envoy of the divine hall.

Even without her words, Ning Changjiu would have stepped into the divine hall on his own.

The maiden slowly reached behind her, drew out a blade as fluid as water, and offered it to Ning Changjiu with both hands, smiling faintly. "This is a blade, an imitation of Shentu, the Blood Saber of the ancient Underworld Divine Kingdom from a thousand years ago. Sir, having bathed in blood on your journey, you deserve this blade."

"Shentu..." Ning Changjiu softly uttered its name as he took the blade, whose surface was like water. It was an exceptionally beautiful saber, with a jet-black, exquisitely crafted hilt and flowing lines along its blade. When spiritual energy flowed into it, the entire saber resembled a burning inferno, turning blood-red.

This was the legendary saber of Lord Hades, a great ancient deity who had fallen.

Wielding Shentu, Ning Changjiu ascended the stairs. Each step he took transformed into a pale skull and fell away.

He entered the divine hall.

The great hall was vast, filled with countless women resembling the previous attendant, dressed in elegant, classical palace gowns and holding sheathed blades. Their faces were beautiful, but their beauty was too rigid, like lifeless puppets.

At the far end of the hall, the most beautiful maiden sat smiling, her curved eyes like a crescent moon hanging in the frosty sky, watching him.

She still wore her pure white cotton dress, but her delicate face now had a touch of light makeup.

"To be able to come here, you're not so foolish after all," Zhao Xiang'er said with a smile.

Hearing her slightly sarcastic words, Ning Changjiu felt much calmer. Holding Shentu, he bowed and said, "I must also thank Your Highness for the pointers."

Without her intervention, he might well have been consumed by the Asura's bloodlust.

Zhao Xiang'er asked, "You truly possess many hidden abilities. What exactly is that golden body? Why can't the world's laws suppress it?"

Ning Changjiu did not hide it: "Asura."

"Asura?" Zhao Xiang'er pondered the meaning of the word. She said, "It doesn't sound like a benevolent technique... But without it, you wouldn't have been able to reach me."

Ning Changjiu nodded slightly. Without the Asura body, which transcended the limitations of the laws, he would have long been worn down and defeated by the incessant fighting.

This was the terrifying aspect of the 'world' authority: it could draw you into a restricted domain and then wear you down directly with overwhelming attacks.

This was only a fragmented 'world.' How powerful, then, must be the deities who wielded true world authority in the Vermillion Bird Divine Kingdom?

Ning Changjiu, holding Shentu, walked to the center of the hall and said, "Please grant me your guidance, Princess... And remember to treat me to a meal, regardless of who wins."

Zhao Xiang'er smiled calmly, "I'll go easy on you."

Ning Changjiu chuckled, "If you hit me too hard, you'll have to spoon-feed me."

As they spoke, the palace attendant who had guided him earlier closed the door.

All the flickering candlelight in the hall stilled.

Zhao Xiang'er slowly rose. As she stood, she effortlessly drew a long saber from beside the armrest. That saber was equally beautiful; its slender blade was a faint blue, like a polished glass mirror reflecting the tranquil color of deep pond water.

When spiritual energy flowed into the saber, its blue blade instantly turned snow-white.

The great hall suddenly plunged into darkness. An invisible, faint breeze seemed to sweep through, extinguishing the hall's candles in an instant.

Zhao Xiang'er sped forward from the far end of the divine hall. After a silent sprint, she lifted her saber, leaped, and struck down. Canglan's snow-white light sliced through the night, as beautiful as a maiden's brow.

The Shentu in Ning Changjiu's hand also ignited with a rainbow glow. He held his saber horizontally before him, charging forward while making a sweeping slash.

In the dim hall, lights extinguished, the glows of Canglan and Shentu converged into an interlocking red and white cross.

The rapid clang of divine blades resounded.

Successive flashes of blade light, swift as lightning, shattered the preceding cross of brilliance.

The furious iron blades clashed and parried incessantly, their bursting flames blossoming brilliantly in the darkness.

Ning Changjiu's Asura body once again enveloped him, confronting Zhao Xiang'er's divine body.

In Linhe City, they had once sparred with fists and sabers for a month. Though Ning Changjiu often bore the brunt of the blows, they had come to deeply understand each other's moves. Now, their saber duel, while dazzling and magnificent, seemed to be a tacit recreation of their time in Linhe City. All their techniques clashed and dismantled precisely, the chaotic flashes of blades transforming into countless fragmented light-rain, like fireworks exploding within the hall.

They moved faster and faster, their saber techniques seemingly transformed into furious roars, intent on tearing the darkness to shreds.

A rain of light filled the entire hall. Their saber clash was too fast for the naked eye to follow; only the light and shadow of their blades could be perceived.

Blade tips touched, then sprang apart.

Ning Changjiu and Zhao Xiang'er landed again.

Shentu glowed red like blood, Canglan gleamed white like silk.

In this round of saber fighting, they were surprisingly evenly matched.

Ning Changjiu breathed a slight sigh of relief. His worries were unfounded; he could indeed contend with her by relying on his Asura body. It truly lived up to its name as a supreme art personally inscribed by his master, just as expected...

His thoughts suddenly froze.

The attendants standing by the sides of the hall relit the candles.

The candlelight illuminated the hall brightly.

Zhao Xiang'er watched him with a smile.

Ning Changjiu was astonished to find that she was no longer wearing the white dress, but a precious dance gown. Its bodice was a white garment embroidered with fine gold, and below the cinched waist was a red, camellia-like skirt. The skirt was layered, each fold soft and overlapping, showcasing the epitome of ornate beauty and enhancing her already exquisite figure with even more elegance.

This was 'Thousand-Pleat Fragrance,' the luxurious gown worn by the finest dancers when Zhao Kingdom welcomed foreign monarchs.

She had actually managed to change into such an intricate and magnificent outfit while engaged in a high-speed saber duel with him!

The difference in skill was immediately clear.

Ning Changjiu sighed softly, looking at her in her splendid attire and light makeup. He quietly said, "Truly beautiful."

From within her softly draped sleeves, Zhao Xiang'er's slightly lowered wrist gracefully held Canglan. This famed saber, though merely a replica, was still ethereally beautiful, like a slender, fragile bamboo leaf beside a camellia flower.

"You've done very well, much stronger than I imagined three years ago," Zhao Xiang'er said, looking at him with an approving smile. "It's a pity this is my domain. Here, you simply cannot defeat me."

As she spoke, she lightly leaped, her body miraculously suspended in the air, like a cloud that simply would not fall.

Ning Changjiu looked at her softly swirling, beautiful dress and asked, "Is this the power of the Laws?"

Zhao Xiang'er nodded gently. The saber in her hand was still blue, indicating she was not using any spiritual energy at that moment.

She said, "I can ignore all external forces. Without restraint, one naturally becomes powerful. This is what cultivators often refer to as... freedom."

She casually waved the blade in her hand, and it rotated thousands of times in a single breath, blurring into streaks of light.

"Are you scared, young Master Ning?" Zhao Xiang'er chuckled. "If you're afraid, surrender. I can spare you some physical pain."

Ning Changjiu asked, "If I concede, will you call off the engagement?"

Zhao Xiang'er's smile faded, and she landed lightly, saying with a slight apology, "Yes."

Ning Changjiu remained silent.

Zhao Xiang'er explained, "I am to return to the Western Kingdom in seven days. It is a place I must go, so rather than leaving lingering thoughts, it's better to break cleanly. The engagement contract was only for sixteen years, and it should have ended three years ago, as you know."

"I know," Ning Changjiu said after a long silence. "I, too, have a place I must go."

"Oh?" Zhao Xiang'er raised an eyebrow slightly.

Ning Changjiu said, "Perhaps one day, I must return to the temple to see my master. When I eventually return, I don't know what year or month it will be."

Zhao Xiang'er smiled faintly, "Isn't that just perfect?"

"You have your path to walk, and I have my truth to pursue." Zhao Xiang'er slowly returned to herself. Her splendid gown flowed over the floor like water as she approached a nearby table and picked up Canglan's scabbard. "I told Lu Jiajia long ago that you and I are fellow travelers on a similar path, but not companions on the same road."

"Then, if none of this existed, would we have married?" Ning Changjiu asked the question, then gently shook his head. In his previous life, he didn't have these worries, yet he still missed out, didn't he?

Zhao Xiang'er's hand, which was sheathing her saber, paused slightly. She thought seriously for a moment, then half-jokingly said, "If that were the case, it wouldn't be impossible for you to marry into Zhao Kingdom and become my Empress. You would just have to be constantly prepared to fall out of favor."

Ning Changjiu also chuckled. He looked at Zhao Xiang'er's incomparably elegant figure, her back to him. The divine hall seemed like a colossal museum, its grandeur existing solely to preserve this single, ancient and splendid flower.

"Wait!" Ning Changjiu suddenly said.

"Hm?" Zhao Xiang'er turned around, half of her saber already in its scabbard.

Ning Changjiu said, "What's the rush, Miss Zhao? I haven't surrendered yet."

Zhao Xiang'er sighed faintly, her eyes still holding a smile. "Before, when I used to beat you, you'd surrender quite quickly. Why are you so stubborn now?"

Ning Changjiu gripped the Shentu in his hand and said, "Times have changed."

Zhao Xiang'er pulled out the half-sheathed blade and said, "If you have any more tricks, bring them out."

Ning Changjiu asked, "Can you give me some time?"

Zhao Xiang'er nodded slightly, not minding.

Ning Changjiu exhaled deeply. He took the peerless blade in his hand, lightly cut his palm, and let the fresh blood seep out onto the edge. The blood seeped into the blade.

He was mimicking an ancient method, seeking to merge his vital blood with the saber, to achieve the unity of man and saber.

Zhao Xiang'er gently shook her head.

Though this method had some use, it was merely a drop in the ocean. Moreover, even if he achieved the unity of man and saber, he could not possibly be her match at this moment.

Because she was the master of this world, and in her divine hall, she was invincible.

Ning Changjiu held his breath, focused his mind, and regulated his breathing.

The blade's bloody radiance intensified slightly.

He gripped the saber with his right hand and pressed his left hand to his brow.

"Heaven's Decree."

"Grand Void."

"Northern Darkness."

"Dao Sword Three Forms."

From his sea of consciousness, he extracted the essence of all the sword techniques he had ever learned, tempering them onto the blade one by one. The essence of these sword or saber techniques was like gems embedded in iron, and with each one infused, the blade's crimson hue deepened.

Zhao Xiang'er's dark brows furrowed slightly.

Ning Changjiu had not yet moved his blade, but its aura already rushed forward, causing the famous 'Thousand-Pleat Fragrance' gown she wore to flutter and dance in the blade's energy.

"Asura..." Ning Changjiu exhaled a murky breath. Inside his body, golden lines lit up once more, each blood vessel like a dormant golden dragon, pulsing with vibrant life, seemingly ready to explode at any moment.

Zhao Xiang'er lightly tapped the floor with her toes.

Ning Changjiu looked at her.

She nodded.

Ning Changjiu gripped the saber and took a step back. The saber did not feel natural to him, so he imagined it as a sword, a peerless sword that had once resided deep within the Underworld. He made a drawing-a-sword gesture.

The silence lasted only for a fleeting moment.

The next moment, all the candles extinguished again. A flash of blade light sliced out, yet it carried no color or sharpness. This single strike was like the last snowflake clinging to a branch, or a crane that had strayed for ten years and was about to die of melancholy. It was so lonely, so ethereal, its extended arc like a thin sheet of paper, waiting for someone to write upon it and leave a mark.

Zhao Xiang'er watched this strike, her gaze filled with undisguised astonishment and admiration.

The artistic conception of this saber strike was so beautiful it reminded her of watching the sunset from the banyan tree and of him holding her in Fengdu.

Outside this world, she would not have been able to withstand this strike.

But her admiration turned into regret.

This was her world.

This strike was indescribably fast, yet in her eyes at this moment, it was still merely ordinary.

Canglan, like snow, swept across.

The lonely saber intent was struck at its weak point, instantly severed, and so loneliness became desolation.

The candlelight illuminated the hall once more.

Ning Changjiu stood holding his saber, his face pale, his body swaying precariously.

"Are you alright?" Zhao Xiang'er asked.

Ning Changjiu grunted in affirmation.

Zhao Xiang'er grew annoyed. "Why are you so stubborn?"

"Then why did you ask...?" Ning Changjiu thought to retort.

No sooner had he finished speaking than his body collapsed.

Zhao Xiang'er sighed and appeared before him, supporting him. She looked at his pale face, her expression complex.

Ning Changjiu clutched her arm and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"Don't push yourself," Zhao Xiang'er sighed. "You've done well enough. I... am very satisfied."

Ning Changjiu gently shook his head, his long hair falling loose.

Zhao Xiang'er was about to offer more comfort when, the next moment, a golden light flared before her eyes.

Another sneak attack?

What a shameless scoundrel!

Zhao Xiang'er grew even more annoyed, thinking, 'I was kind to you for nothing.' Despite her irritation, she felt no fear; here, Ning Changjiu had no chance whatsoever of defeating her.

But soon, her expression changed.

Ning Changjiu grabbed her hand and pulled sharply, drawing her into a burst of golden light.

When the golden light dispersed, everything around them had changed.

"Welcome to... the Land of Ten Forms," Ning Changjiu said with a smile to Zhao Xiang'er, rubbing his temples as he struggled to stand.

This was the world within the Golden Crow.