Chapter 330: A Journey Stretching Thousands of Miles

Red dragon's blood flowed in winding paths, crystallizing as it went. The dragon's corpse, a symbol of the snow disaster, was buried by an avalanche, itself another catastrophe. By the time the sun shone on the snowfield, the heavy snow had completely stopped.

The surviving members of the caravan gradually woke their companions. With lingering fear, they looked up at the sunlight brightening the sky.

The sunlight on the snowfield offered no warmth, yet the part of their hearts that belonged to life reignited. Those with strength left struggled to rise, sinking to their knees in the snow, and prostrated themselves in the direction the red-robed figure had departed.

The world was quiet and submissive.

Shao Xiaoli walked alone across the snowfield. Snow elephants roared in the distance, while tigers and leopards with sharp teeth steered clear of her from afar, watching the blood-red silhouette, a symbol of slaughter, recede into the distance.

The blood on her sword had congealed into ice crystals, which fell away with a light shake. The blade reflected the light, bright and transparent.

She gazed at the brightening sky for a moment.

This sky had neither sun nor moon; its light was said to come from the breath of the shattered divine realm above.

But surely, that which brings light and warmth must be the most beautiful thing in the world... Shao Xiaoli often thought of the sunrise at the end of the world, the most beautiful sight she had ever witnessed. So, when she looked up at the sky, she often imagined an eternally burning red fireball hanging there.

Within the fireball, a golden crow would reside, resting upon an ancient temple. And upon that temple, a deity should reside... a white-robed deity.

As Shao Xiaoli thought these thoughts, her face, pale in the light, remained expressionless. She lightly tossed her sword, which spiraled around her once before hovering in front. With a nimble leap, she landed on the sword's tip, her red dress and the sword's gleaming afterimages intertwining as she sped away from the snowfield, soaring towards Broken Realm City.

After traveling a long distance, Shao Xiaoli stopped her sword, rested for a moment, and then continued.

The suppression of this world was far from broken.

She could now control her sword over long distances, even hovering for short periods, but she couldn't truly soar through the air. According to Ning Changjiu, this level of cultivation was known as "Half-Step Violet Court" outside this realm.

And because of the realm's suppression of cultivation levels, as long as she couldn't leave, she would likely never enter the true Violet Court realm.

However, few demons or fierce beasts in this place could still contend with her.

Crossing snowfields, deserts, poisonous swamps, and barren mountains, Shao Xiaoli entered the city on her sword and returned to her own royal palace.

She had grown taller than two years ago, and her figure had become slender and graceful. Her waist was cinched by a belt, and her soft, smoke-like red dress fit perfectly, accentuating her exceptionally fair skin, like fresh milk. Her expression, however, was cold. The noble young lady of yesteryear had matured rapidly over these two years, all childishness vanished, replaced by an aloof and haughty demeanor that captivated all who beheld her.

This was also a necessary trait for the queen of a city.

Shao Xiaoli was nineteen years old this year, the absolute ruler of Broken Realm City, and, in essence, the monarch of this world.

After exploring Broken Realm City with Ning Changjiu and Siming that year, she ordered an end to further exploration of its depths. Instead, she encouraged farming and hunting to alleviate the hunger of the outer commoners. She also personally traveled with the Moon Branch to the era named 'Peach Blossom Spring', bringing back many seeds for her subordinates to try cultivating and planting.

She often ventured alone with her sword into infamous wild forests and deep valleys, where she would slay demons that plagued the region and consume their demon cores.

Of course, such significant progress in two years, though partly due to Ning Changjiu and Siming's guidance, was primarily due to...

Shao Xiaoli, with a thought, closed the palace doors.

The hall was dim.

Shao Xiaoli twisted a mechanism on the throne.

The ornate coffered ceiling above the hall spiraled open, and a beam of light descended. Where the light fell, a Moon Branch, carved like jade, emerged.

Shao Xiaoli rose from the throne, walked to the Moon Branch, and bowed gently.

Wisps of light smoke slowly drifted out from the Moon Branch, condensing into an ethereal white-robed figure.

The figure's exact form was indistinct, resembling a hallucination crafted from mist, so ephemeral as to be indescribable.

Shao Xiaoli had never seen the moon, but when she first saw this figure emerge from the Moon Branch, she felt that what was called moonlight might flow with precisely this color.

"Immortal Lord," Shao Xiaoli addressed her.

The shifting shadow swayed slightly. It said nothing, merely waving light and shadow across the Moon Branch.

These light and shadow forms danced and shifted ceaselessly, seeming to demonstrate an exquisitely refined sword art, or perhaps performing a shamanic, spirit-channeling dance.

Shao Xiaoli watched with full concentration.

She had first seen this shadow a year ago.

At that time, her cultivation was insufficient. She could only feign authority by relying on Blood Feather Lord, barely holding onto the throne. Broken Realm City was frequently turbulent, and she was constantly busy, physically and mentally exhausted.

One night, she took out the Moon Branch that Ning Changjiu had given her and quietly prayed to it, yearning for divine inspiration.

That night, fantasy became reality. The Moon Branch actually responded, and this figure emerged from it for the first time, like something called a cloud, as described in books. She stared mesmerized for a long time, tears involuntarily streaming down her face.

The ethereal figure said nothing; it simply performed a sword art in silence.

Shao Xiaoli watched, half understanding, half not.

Vaguely, she seemed to have received some kind of inheritance.

After that, the ice and snow blocking her path of cultivation began to melt. Her cultivation level rose rapidly, making swift progress. She completely surpassed everyone, becoming the true and undisputed queen of Broken Realm City.

This shadow within the withered branch appeared once every fifteen days, saying nothing, only teaching her divine arts.

Shao Xiaoli knelt lightly, lowering her head to learn.

She felt an inexplicable closeness to this figure... This familiarity wasn't due to the figure's kindness towards her, but rather something more profound and mysterious, akin to a connection of bloodline or soul.

The white-robed woman finished her sword art.

Shao Xiaoli bowed her head in thanks once more.

The woman still said nothing, transforming into a fading cloud and retreating back into the Moon Branch.

The Moon Branch sank to the bottom of the pool in the center of the hall, becoming invisible.

Shao Xiaoli slowly rose.

Recalling the white-robed woman's sword art, she was inspired. As her will moved with her heart, she vertically angled her right palm, pushed her fingers forward, and unleashed a faint, ethereal sword light.

In the dim hall, countless sounds, like cracking human joints, exploded. The endlessly fluttering sword light, as white as snow, propelled forward along the central axis of her fingers, crashing against the palace doors and causing all the furnishings in the hall to tremble uncontrollably.

Shao Xiaoli withdrew her fingers.

She had originally thought she had reached the pinnacle of this world, but after each lesson from the white-robed woman, she always achieved a subtle and mysterious improvement.

Who exactly was the figure in the Moon Branch? Did Ning Changjiu know her? Why had he never mentioned her when he gave her the Moon Branch?

Shao Xiaoli was puzzled.

"This... this should have been your opportunity," Shao Xiaoli murmured softly.

If Ning Changjiu hadn't given her this Moon Branch, then he, not she, would be learning the myriad techniques within it. Even though Brother Ning was already so formidable, one could never have too many skills.

Shao Xiaoli didn't know whether to be happy or sad.

But the fact that the figure in the Moon Branch was willing to appear could be seen as an acknowledgment of her, right?

"But who are you, really? And why do you reside within this Moon Branch?" Shao Xiaoli murmured softly.

Holding her sword, she crossed the glistening palace pond and walked outside.

Shao Xiaoli didn't know that after she turned her back, the wispy, smoke-like shadow reappeared and gazed at her receding figure until she vanished.

This was an ordinary day in Broken Realm City.

The Central Plains.

The sky, washed clean by a night of heavy rain, was clear and bright. Clouds were pure white, without blemish. A gentle breeze blew steadily, and the chirping and warbling of birds filled the surroundings.

On an illusory sword, Siming carried Ning Changjiu, soaring through the sky.

Along the way, they shattered countless white clouds, which scattered across the sky like scales scraped from a fish.

Myriad Demon City was directly north of Ancient Spirit Sect, so they didn't need a map to find their way. When they flew their swords through the air and a vast, continuous city, resembling black mining mountains, came into view, that was the legendary ancient city where all demons gathered.

The Central Plains, however, were vast; even with Siming's cultivation, flying a sword to Myriad Demon City would take a full seven days.

"Thank you for your help with Junior Sister's matter," Ning Changjiu said, standing behind her with his hands resting on her shoulders for stability. "Without your assistance, I would surely be exhausted by now."

Siming clasped her hands behind her back. She didn't intentionally block the wind, but rather let the breeze caress her face, blowing her abundant silver hair into a flowing cascade. These strands fell over Ning Changjiu's cheeks, feeling like a silk curtain over his face, making it difficult for him to see and causing a slight itch.

Siming listened to his words and responded indifferently: "I'm helping Xiaoling and Jiajia, not you."

Ning Changjiu chuckled softly at her words. He inhaled the lingering fragrance of her hair and said, "In any case, thank you."

Siming's lips curled into a mocking smile. "What good is thanking me?" she retorted. "If you're truly grateful, why don't you remove my slave mark?"

Ning Changjiu thought for a moment. He reached out, parted her hair, looked at her earnestly, and asked, "If I remove your slave mark, how would you treat me?"

Siming pondered briefly, then replied with equal seriousness: "Then I'd make you serve tea and pour water, work like an ox or a horse. I'd lock you in a cage and humiliate you, then brand slave marks onto certain parts of you. Oh, and a fox tail would be indispensable."

"...If you'd said a couple of nice words, I might have softened and removed it for you." Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment, then laughed exasperatedly, "Why do I get the feeling you don't want the slave mark removed yourself?"

Siming sneered, "I'm just too lazy to lie to you."

Ning Changjiu asked, "Is your hatred for me that deep?"

Siming replied, "A divine official is flawless. If it's not my will, anyone who touches me is a sinner. You are already unforgivably wicked. One day, I will personally inflict upon you the punishment you deserve."

Ning Changjiu asked with a laugh, "You've long since stepped down from your post. Where does such grand authority come from?"

Siming said dismissively, "There's no need for your base, mortal heart to guess the will of a goddess. When I return to the divine throne, you need only prostrate yourself at the foot of the stairs."

Ning Changjiu felt the strands of hair brushing his cheek and softly asked, "What if you can't go back?"

Siming declared proudly, "Unless the divine realm changes hands, it's impossible for it not to recognize me."

She didn't continue speaking. A deeper thought was buried in her heart—if the divine realm were masterless, and since Ye Chu was now dead, then as a divine official, she could naturally take over everything in the divine realm.

Five hundred years ago, after the Saint was suppressed and killed, his divine realm was inherited by his Celestial Monarch.

Although the Celestial Monarch, even after inheriting the divine realm's power, was far from as powerful as the Saint of yesteryear, what did it matter? The twelve national lords took turns guarding, only one per year. The strength of other national lords had nothing to do with her; during her own year, she would be invincible in the world.

Since there was a precedent, why couldn't she, as a surviving divine official, emulate the ancient method?

Being subservient to a deity was ultimately not perfect. Only by becoming the master of the divine realm could she possibly sever the white-robed inner demon that tormented her dreams like an endless night.

Whenever Siming thought of this, undying sparks, capable of boiling her sea of consciousness, would burst forth from her graceful, undulating body.

She forcefully suppressed the sudden thoughts in her mind, her gaze remaining as usual.

Ning Changjiu didn't perceive the ambition in the woman before him. He pondered the phrase "unless the divine realm changes hands."

He knew that the shadowy female figure who had tormented Siming like a nightmare for centuries was very likely his master.

After Master slew the headless god, did she coincidentally take over its divine realm?

"Why can't a divine realm change hands?" Ning Changjiu couldn't help but ask.

Siming stated bluntly, "All divine masters in the world have a corresponding star in the sky. Only by gaining the star's recognition can one be accepted by the divine realm. No matter how powerful the one who killed the headless god was, they certainly couldn't gain the star's recognition, much less control the divine realm."

Ning Changjiu nodded thoughtfully.

Siming smiled faintly. "What? Are you starting to worry about your future?"

Ning Changjiu retorted, "Since we met, how many times have you defeated me? Why would I be afraid of you?"

Siming said calmly, "No dynasty in the world is eternal. The Six Primordial Gods who once dominated the desolate lands have also turned to ashes in history. The Saint who once questioned fate from the heavens is also about to die... If even they are like this under the mighty power of time, where does your confidence come from?"

"What does any of that have to do with me?" Ning Changjiu replied calmly.

"Oh? What sophistry do you have now?" Siming's slender eyebrow rose slightly. She turned her head slightly, glancing at Ning Changjiu from the corner of her eye, her beautiful cheek outlined brightly against the backlight.

Ning Changjiu looked at her face and said seriously, "While dynasties rise and fall, never lasting for eternity, that's always a matter of centuries or millennia later."

Ning Changjiu paused, then smiled faintly. "Right now, it is my dynasty. Miss Siming, you were born at the wrong time."

Sunlight filtered through her silver hair, falling into Ning Changjiu's eyes. Tiny specks of light, like runes etched deep within his pupils, emanated dazzling radiance. Siming's heart stirred. She slowly turned her head, blocking the oncoming light.

She scoffed, "Say another shameless word like that, and I'll kick you off this sword."

The white sun traversed the zenith, its color gradually deepening. As it reached the horizon, it was tinged with a faint orange-red. It descended towards the continuous mountain ranges, as if a dark sea awaited it behind the peaks for repose.

The rainbow-like glow stretching across the sky gradually thinned, descending into a mountain path. Startled birds flapped their wings and flew into the evening light.

Siming put away her illusory sword and slowly ascended the mountain path's steps.

Dense tree canopies covered their heads. The evening sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled, brick-red light. This light merged with Siming's black robe, leaving a warm shadow on Ning Changjiu's white garment.

Even with her Five Paths cultivation, Siming felt some fatigue after a day of sword flying, especially with an illusory sword.

But she said nothing, merely ascending the steps in silence.

Ning Changjiu looked at her fair neck, flushed in the sunlight, and said with a concerned smile, "You've been flying your sword all day; you must be tired. Let's find an inn and rest."

"An inn?" Siming's cool voice held a hint of disdain. "Master Swordsman Ning is so delicate, reaching the peak of the Violet Court realm, yet still needing to stay in an inn like common folk?"

Ning Changjiu walked beside her, slowly saying, "You've toiled all day. What kind of person would I be if I made you brave the elements and sleep outdoors?"

Siming said coldly, "Feigned sincerity."

Ning Changjiu said, "If Sect Master is unwilling, staying in a dilapidated temple isn't out of the question either."

Siming said, "I don't like temples."

"Why?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Siming replied indifferently, "Most deities worshipped in temples are undeserving of their names. They rarely respond when people prostrate themselves and pray. If I saw them, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to resist smashing them."

Ning Changjiu smiled helplessly and asked, "Then what does Sect Master wish to do?"

Siming said, "You can fly the sword at night then. What? Are you trying to slack off?"

Ning Changjiu said, "My cultivation level compared to yours is like starlight next to the full moon. Even if I flew my sword for a day and a night, it wouldn't equal half a day of yours. We might as well get a good rest tonight."

Siming scoffed, "Praise with hidden criticism; you truly are sharp-tongued... shameless."

Ning Changjiu asked, puzzled, "What do you mean? How did I belittle you?"

Siming walked up the steps. The sunset glow on her nape gradually faded, turning back to dazzling white. She had not removed her demon fox mask, looking like a thousand-year-old demoness traversing the mountains, ancient and peerlessly beautiful.

She said slowly, "Stars and the bright moon... Don't you know which is larger and which is smaller? Mortals, with their limited perspective, see the moon as a shining ice wheel with infinite light, and stars as mere specks of dust, flickering on the verge of extinction. But that's the thinking of a frog in a well. All the stars we can see are far larger and brighter than the moon. When you flatter me with such words, what else is it but mockery?"

"..." Ning Changjiu looked at her perpetually confident face.

Siming was always like this: appearing clever and cautious about things she only half-understood, but regarding secrets she believed she fully comprehended, she displayed an almost endearing arrogance.

He knew that his master was certainly connected to the moon, and the name 'Ye Changong' almost explicitly stated her identity.

But if Siming's words were true, and the human world's sky had been obscured, and the Six Primordial Gods hadn't yet escaped, then how did Master obtain the moon's true inheritance? Or was she just a thief too?

Ning Changjiu knew that he wouldn't be able to figure these things out until he met Ye Changong.

But... he suddenly looked forward immensely to seeing Siming's reaction when she met his master.

Her seven-hundred-year nightmare would truly appear before her. What expression would she have then? Would she still be able to maintain that unparalleled arrogance? Or might she even take his master as her own, becoming his eighth junior sister, or something similar...

Ning Changjiu's thoughts ran wild, and he couldn't help but laugh.

Siming looked at him, puzzled. "I exposed your foolishness, yet you're laughing? How shameless can you be?"

Ning Changjiu didn't answer, keeping the secret to himself. He looked at Siming and smiled faintly. "Miss Siming is right to teach me a lesson. But if we keep walking like this, the city gates will close."

Siming looked at him and said, "Xiaoling is in critical condition. As her senior brother, why aren't you worried?"

Ning Changjiu said, "Worrying won't help. These days, we absolutely must not exhaust ourselves rushing. We must always keep our minds sharp. Sharpening the axe doesn't delay chopping wood. If the journey to Myriad Demon City goes smoothly, it won't take much longer anyway."

Siming's delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Are you worried someone will try to stop us?" she asked.

Ning Changjiu nodded. "I have a premonition."

"Hmph, fine. Since you're such a coward, let's rest for a night," Siming sighed softly, compromising reluctantly.

The two flew their swords, crossing several more mountains and villages. Finally, they saw a city nestled in a remote corner, not particularly bustling.

After entering the city, Ning Changjiu and Siming went to eat local specialty dishes together. Their banter hadn't stopped since they left, constantly arguing and mocking each other like needle points against wheat awns.