Chapter 408: The Girl and the Cat Gazing at the Northern Ocean

In early September, the Sword Saint, riding a Kunpeng, broke forth from the sea, soaring away on the wind. Sī Mìng crushed the message-transmitting wooden tablet, and the besiegers arrived in droves, countless iron and steel blades piercing the black tide of the Northern Abyss.

Throughout September, terrifying battles had erupted several times across the vast, boundless sea of the Northern Abyss.

The further north one traveled, the colder the temperature grew, and the darker the sky became. Yet, the stars and moon remained visible, lending the night sky a desolate beauty.

Sī Mìng’s raft had long since disintegrated, replaced now by a black sword. The black sword cut through the black tide, and her graceful, delicate figure was like a flower formed from starlight, lifted by the waves.

Daylight had vanished from this world.

Before her lay the dark sea and its indistinct reflection of the night sky. Beyond that were icebergs, floating one after another, rooted in the ocean, their tower-like peaks as large as blue whales. A thick, heavy layer of ice spread across the sea surface, constantly carved by a cold, gale-force wind.

The word "glimmering" could not accurately describe this world of ice. Its desolation was solemn, mysterious, and looking out, the snow-white icebergs always brought to mind the frozen carcasses of sea beasts.

Sī Mìng had arrived in this desolate world.

Her emotions were colored by the surrounding scenery; her hair turned pure white. As it quietly fell, it resembled a long river of ice and snow flowing through beautiful mountains and valleys.

In the distance, the roar of a lion echoed—the voice of the Nine-Spirit Yuan Saint.

Such a roar signified that he had once again found traces of the Sword Saint.

In a single month, they had fought the Sword Saint three times. The Sword Saint’s severe injuries had not healed, and after appearing on the Kun, they had not allowed him to swagger away. These three battles were not particularly bloody, nor as grand in scale as the one outside Lonely Cloud City.

Ko Wen Zhou had also chosen not to confront them directly. Riding the Kun, he fought and retreated, fleeing northwards.

Had it not been for the protection of this nameless Great Kun, Ko Wen Zhou might have already been decapitated.

At this moment, as they pursued, despite holding the upper hand, they felt as if they were being led by the nose.

Now, they seemed to be chasing him to the very end of the world...

As the lion’s roar echoed, Sī Mìng’s figure darted, appearing moments later on the peak of an iceberg a thousand miles away.

After traversing several icebergs consecutively, Sī Mìng finally caught the drifting killing intent in the air.

The black sword flew into her hand.

Opposite her, Ji Xuan and Bai Ze had also arrived upon hearing the news.

Their central location had once been a secret ice cave. Now, the upper layer of the ice cave had been pierced and collapsed, revealing a vast expanse of ice-covered sea below, though at a lower level.

The Nine-Spirit Yuan Saint stood on a fractured ice shard, his green mane and ghostly mask fluttering. His towering body stood tall, his powerful muscles tensed in large blocks, and the iron umbrella slowly spun with the twist of his hand.

In the center, Ko Wen Zhou sat cross-legged on the head of the giant Kun. His body was somewhat gaunt, and countless strands of white hair now mixed in with his tied-up hair.

He held a phantom sword, his gaze calmly sweeping across the figures standing in various directions.

"Four months and tens of thousands of miles of pursuit, finally reaching this point. You have all worked hard," Ko Wen Zhou said.

Bai Ze asked curiously, "Have you prepared any tricks here?"

Ko Wen Zhou shook his head and replied, "No."

No one believed him, yet no one could sense anything unusual in the surroundings.

Without his sword, the Sword Saint was merely a weathered old man.

The Nine-Spirit Yuan Saint looked at his old acquaintance, his voice deep. "I thought you would hold out until the eclipse reappeared... You were hiding so well; why did you choose to ride the Kun out to sea? Your sword heart is long defiled; where does this solitary courage come from? Ko Wen Zhou, have you gone mad?"

Ko Wen Zhou looked at the umbrella in his hand and said, "It's merely the end of the road... Your demon clan’s sacred artifacts are truly enviable. For five hundred years, I have never found a sword truly suited for myself; otherwise, I would not have been cornered by you here."

"You are nothing but a false saint; how dare you hold a sacred artifact?" Sī Mìng’s icy voice rang out from the iceberg.

Ko Wen Zhou looked at her and asked, "If I am a false saint, then who is the saint in your heart?"

Sī Mìng floated lightly on the ice peak, not answering. She gripped the sword hilt, and the dark longsword reflected myriad points of sword light.

The blinding sword light made Ko Wen Zhou avert his gaze.

He looked around.

"Lord Spirit Official, Old God Xuānzé, and the two Lion Clan Demon Saints, Azure and White..." Ko Wen Zhou said, "For my last sword strike in this life, to face you all, even if I perish, it will be a worthy end."

His words sounded carefree, but no one believed him. For five hundred years, and even now, Ko Wen Zhou had always been someone who clung to life.

"No more testing his sincerity with words," Ji Xuan said, gripping his slender sword, his red robes flowing like a ghost. As he casually swung his sword, a long scroll danced around him.

Ko Wen Zhou glanced at the starry sky through the shattered dome. He patted the ancient Kun's back beneath him, and the Kun, as if sensing his intent, let out a mournful cry and dove into the water.

The Sword Saint's hand pressed on the water surface, which continued to recede rapidly. The frigid seawater condensed swiftly between his palms, and the muscles in his arm bulged as if he were about to pull a colossal sword from beneath the water.

Of course, the four would not just stand by and watch him draw his sword.

The Nine-Spirit Yuan Saint was the first to charge.

He had harbored resentment towards Ko Wen Zhou for too many years. Now, with the chance to kill him within reach, the immense fury in his heart could no longer be contained and finally erupted.

The iron umbrella, like thousands of rapidly spinning swords, crashed down upon the Sword Saint.

Amidst the lion's roar, Bai Ze's movements were equally swift. Unlike the Nine-Spirit Yuan Saint’s raw power, his actions were fluid and graceful.

The two lions attacked in a pincer movement.

It was as if a giant boulder had struck the water, the sea instantly sinking. The surrounding thick, solid ice fractured like leaves being torn away. Ji Xuan's sword arrived at the same time. Wherever its light shone, everything plunged into a scroll painting, oscillating between reality and illusion.

Sī Mìng also showed no hesitation. Her long pursuit had left her impatient, and her black sword, having yearned for blood for too long, vibrated in resonance with her will.

In the environment of ice and snow, she involuntarily recalled her battle with Ning Chang Jiu in the snowy gorge. Had fate not intervened, she might now be guarding the Heavenly Dao in the Yuānfú Kingdom, no different from these Sword Saints.

But now, she, too, was a person with family...

Sī Mìng smiled faintly. Amidst her smile, the black sword, infused with the authority of time, shot straight forward without any flourish. Space-time bent within the sword, and in an instant, the black sword was on the verge of reaching the Sword Saint's heart.

The combined might of the four was utterly devastating.

The mountain ranges that had enclosed the ice sea like iron chains finally gave way, collapsing under the tearing force of spiritual energy, crashing into the seawater with a roar, raising thousands of waves.

Under the water, the cracks on the icebergs continued to spread.

At this moment, the Sword Saint's body was also slammed into the water, submerged by countless sword lights.

Sī Mìng and Ji Xuan remained still. Both had once held divine positions, giving them a stronger perception of heaven and earth. They hovered in the air, locking onto the Sword Saint's aura. Bai Ze and the Nine-Spirit Yuan Saint, being lions, displayed the ferocity of ancient demons, plunging into the water like the upper and lower teeth of a bloody maw, snapping shut fiercely on the old man in the middle.

Ko Wen Zhou had attempted to wield the ice sea as a sword, but this process was forcefully interrupted.

The sword was only half-formed.

His withered hair floated in the seawater. As the two lions pressed in, he made a sword-wielding motion. He held no physical sword, but as he swung, the entire mass of seawater crashed towards them.

Sī Mìng’s sword, however, ignored the wall of condensed seawater, piercing through everything like an intangible object, stabbing towards the Sword Saint.

The Sword Saint's withered fingers blocked before his heart, his fingertips pressing against the sword. His fingers rapidly decayed as if they were made of wood.

At the same time, Ji Xuan's sword arrived.

The heavy seawater thinned to a mere layer under his sword light. The scroll painting swept forth, and if Ko Wen Zhou were caught within it, defeat would be certain.

The two swords pressed in, piercing through the seawater. Two lion paws struck, shattering his protective sword intent and almost crushing his bones.

Ko Wen Zhou was already severely wounded. Even with the Ascension Realm of an ancient immortal, as mighty as great gods like Pangu and Nüwa in their prime, he could never withstand the combined assault of these four.

Especially with Ji Xuan also present.

Before his death, he was Xuānzé, who commanded the sea. The sea’s sorrow and rage were his very breath. With every gesture, his sword vibrated rapidly, and Ko Wen Zhou's giant seawater sword disintegrated.

Ko Wen Zhou groaned wretchedly. He had once again lost his "sword," and two bloody holes appeared in his shoulders from the pincer attack of the two lions.

Sī Mìng's black sword pierced his fingers and plunged into his chest. If the sword tip had sentience, it would hear the nearby heartbeat.

Ko Wen Zhou closed his eyes. Spiritual energy surged within him, almost instantly draining his entire spiritual sea.

He held his hand in a phantom grip, charging desperately out of the sea, as if to burn away the last of his life's power to launch a battle that would shock gods and devils and shake the heavens and earth.

In the eternal night of the Northern Abyss Sea, the rampant spiritual energy sounded like the cries of ancient sea monsters. In these cries, the sea cracked, and the ice collapsed. The world seemed to be ripped open, spewing forth eerie blue light, revealing a chaotic and bloodthirsty interior.

This earth-shattering battle spread widely.

In the snow country to the north, the frequency of distant waves pushing in had noticeably increased. Many large ships were pushed ashore and collided. People, wrapped in woolen clothing and cotton padded jackets with their noses covered, gazed at the strange weather and sea, wondering what was happening.

In the demon cave of the snow country, on an ice spike formed by a frozen current, stood the Fourth Senior Sister, with short hair and slightly rounded cheeks. She bit down on a blade in her mouth, her left hand dragging an iron whip, and her right hand holding a long spear. Impaled beneath the ice spike were the corpses of various demons.

She gripped the spear handle tightly, pulling it out from the chest of a great demon.

As if by telepathy, after drawing out the spear, she turned her head and looked towards the Northern Abyss black sea adjacent to the demon cave.

The strong winds tonight had never ceased.

The distant sea wind carried a salty, fishy smell.

The Fourth Senior Sister narrowed her eyes, watching the sea, and sensed something.

Inside the colossal cavern, the roars of the monsters still echoed.

This disturbed her thoughts.

"Silence!" the Fourth Senior Sister bellowed.

She had been biting the knife, so with this shout, the knife dropped. She instinctively kicked its hilt, sending the blade crashing into the darkness. Amidst screams, another monster was impaled deep within the cave.

The Fourth Senior Sister was certain that her senior and junior brothers had already captured the Sword Saint.

This was smoother than she had imagined.

She just wondered if there would be any further unexpected changes.

Once this demon cave was flattened and the accumulated karma from her past life was burned away, she could finally break free and help her master and the others.

Thinking this, a flame ignited along the long spear in the young girl’s hand.

She leaped from the ice spike, her body, along with the burning spear and sword, plummeting into the depths of the demon cave. She wielded the long spear, sweeping horizontally or thrusting. The sword light pierced through the cave’s gloom and darkness. Her delicate, petite body rolled like a fire wheel through the jagged ice ridges of the demon cave, heading straight for its deepest parts.

The ghosts lurking in the shadows shrieked hoarsely. They seemed to have seen heaven and earth, and emotions of anger and fear converged.

This was Gonggong’s tomb.

Over three thousand years ago, Gonggong was corrupted. She pursued him here, wielding a golden arrow gifted to her by Yi. She held the golden arrow like an iron spear and hurled it. The golden arrow pierced and killed Gonggong, pinning him deep into the earth.

This almost bottomless demon cave was formed by that very golden arrow.

It was a pity that she had been too impatient then and failed to completely cleanse Gonggong’s resentment, allowing the corruption to seep out of the demon cave and spread three millennia later.

Fortunately, they were just a disorganized rabble, merely annoying.

The Fourth Senior Sister, wielding all eighteen types of weapons, almost literally flattened her way through.

In these past months, she had gone in and out of the demon cave seven times, striking terror into the hearts of the great demons.

Another day and night passed.

The Fourth Senior Sister once again impaled a water demon in the depths of the demon cave.

The water demon rapidly evaporated under her spear.

Such water demons were all considered great demons, but she had lost count of how many she had killed.

But this was the last one.

"You... who exactly are you...?"

The water demon was boiling. It let out a soul-rending shriek, uttering its final question.

The Fourth Senior Sister calmly spoke her name: "Sī Lí."

Sī Lí.

Lí means fire.

The water demon understood something, staring fixedly at her, opening its mouth as if to unleash a curse.

The Fourth Senior Sister, Sī Lí, did not believe in curses.

But she also gave the opponent no chance to speak. She directly tore its mouth, pulled a knife from her waist, stabbed it into its body, extracted the demon core, and crushed it to dust.

She looked at the spot where the water demon had evaporated, her expression distant, tinged with remembrance.

All eighteen types of weapons simultaneously left their sheath. Behind the young girl, an iron peacock unfurled its tail.

Iron blades churned within the demon cave.

Her expression remained largely unchanged, her rounded face very cute, even a little blank.

She pushed off the ground, ascending, crossing countless caverns back to the ice surface above. Then, near the Northern Abyss, she kicked the long spear in her hand, sending it into the cave.

The young girl raised her hand, and in her palm, a pure flame ignited.

"Farewell, Water God Gonggong."

The girl's voice was clear as she bid a final farewell to an old acquaintance long deceased.

In fact, whether it was dispelling Gonggong’s curse or pursuing the Sword Saint, she had not been overly concerned. She knew these were merely appetizers before the grand feast; the true battle had always been in the distant heavens.

"I, the Divine Fire Zhurong, control the fire that dispels calamity. By the will of the Moon Palace, I am commanded to subdue demons. May Heaven and Earth be virtuous, and all beings feel gratitude. The Sacred Fire is forged, its light illuminates the four seas!"

Sī Lí spoke thus. Beneath the flourishing night sky, she held up her hand. The ferocious figure from three thousand five hundred years ago became a totem, merging with the delicate, adorable, and cold-faced girl of the present!

Tongues of fire licked into the demon cave.

Sī Lí’s mind was still immersed in the heat and purity of the flame.

But suddenly, she realized something was amiss.

She lifted her head, looked at the sky, and her pupils contracted sharply.

It was the last day of September.

One could still see countless stars shining.

On this day, many others also looked up at the sky with astonished gazes.

Even further north in the Northern Abyss, the four-month pursuit was about to conclude on the last day of the Quánlín Month.

The midnight sky was beautiful.

All the icebergs on the ice sea had been shattered. Looking out, the entire world seemed to be just floating seawater.

They had fought fiercely for several days, only to return to the initial encirclement.

The Sword Saint stood on the sea like a ghost. His hair was disheveled, haphazardly covering his face, and blood flowed from it, filling every aged furrow in his skin.

His broken body was covered in blood. His right arm, including the sleeve, had been completely severed.

The Sword Saint held a sword condensed from seawater in his left hand, his expression strangely indifferent.

"This battle was hardly spectacular. If I were to write a history of swords, I would never record it," Ko Wen Zhou said with some regret.

The Nine-Spirit Yuan Saint understood his meaning.

In this battle, except for the Sword Saint, they had all striven for stability. After days of fighting, there had been no earth-shshattering sword strike capable of overturning the heavens and earth. They were like hunters stalking prey, forcefully dragging out the Sword Saint’s prematurely activated peak state, then together severing his right arm, bringing the battle directly to its conclusion.

Indeed, it was not spectacular, but the outcome of this battle was destined to have extraordinary significance for the entire world.

Sī Mìng looked at the Sword Saint, truly at the end of his rope, yet she did not let down her guard. Her black sword swayed with the sea wind, accumulating sword intent, preparing to deliver the final blow.

After killing him, she could return to land...

She wondered if Ning Chang Jiu was managing well without her. Hah, probably not.

The Sword Saint's arm sank into the seawater.

The four who hunted him did not respond to his words. They were all preparing their final strike, a process that took mere seconds.

The Nine-Spirit Yuan Saint's Devour, Bai Ze's Ancient Demonic Arts, Ji Xuan's Entering the Painting, Sī Mìng's Time...

These authorities and abilities unfolded simultaneously, each like a tombstone.

Ko Wen Zhou looked at them, yet showed no sign of impending death.

No one knew what else he could do.

But Ko Wen Zhou raised his scarred left arm, extended his index finger towards the sky, and laughed loudly: "I have one more sword strike, waiting for the right moment!"

No sooner had his words fallen.

Everyone sensed that something was amiss.

Their divine senses swept towards the starry sky.

In the starry sky, the place where the moon should have been was suddenly pitch black.

What was happening?!

Numerous questions echoed in their minds.

But now, no matter how shocking the anomaly, they had to kill the Sword Saint first.

Peak-level laws bombarded the Sword Saint's body, and the Sword Saint unleashed his final sword intent to resist.

Even with a severed arm, even gravely wounded and on the verge of death, his sword intent remained unyielding.

But this tenacity was merely a desperate struggle.

Amidst the soaring killing intent, the Sword Pavilion's sword intent was ground down, turning to ashes.

Swords pierced through the Sword Saint's body.

The Sword Saint did not die immediately.

His ancient pupils did not look at them, but rather past them, behind them, and he spoke softly: "Look... This is the final sword—this is divine retribution!"

A devastating killing intent surged from the sky.

Beneath the seawater, the colossal body of the Kunpeng emerged, swallowing the Sword Saint's mangled body in one gulp, then swiftly diving into the seabed.

Although the Kun was at the peak of the Five Paths, it was not truly powerful to them. If they had acted, they could have stopped all of this.

But no one moved.

They all dispersed at extreme speed simultaneously.

Pushing their bodies to their limits, they retreated towards the edges of the Northern Abyss.

Sī Mìng even manifested her innate sundial.

She paused time, sweeping across the seawater, moving too fast for any shadow to be seen.

Just moments ago, as they were about to combine their efforts for the final strike on the Sword Saint, she felt a truly destructive aura appear behind her.

It was a power far mightier than any sword.

After seven hundred years, Sī Mìng felt such world-destroying terror once again...

Everything happened.

The moon remained pitch black.

Fiery streams fell from the sky, crashing into the water.

The sound of explosions was deafening, and the light illuminated the entire sea surface.

On the thirtieth day of the ninth month of the Yuānfú Year, the bright moon swallowed light, and a meteor descended from the heavens, striking the Northern Abyss Sea. Its light blazed, inciting the fury of the ocean.

"What fell was the Yuānfú Star."

In a book, the words were written.

"Since Yuānfú has died, the Dark Lord simply abandoned the Yuānfú Star. The Dark Lord possesses an almost terrifying control over stars. In July, as it passed the Yuānfú Star, it used its divine power to pull it, causing the Yuānfú Star to deviate from its original position and begin flying towards the Mother Star."

"As it approached the moon, the Yuānfú Star experienced its first explosion."

"The Dark Lord intended to obscure the moon, but the Yuānfú Star was much smaller than the moon and could not block all the sun's light. So, half of the Yuānfú Star exploded, that half transforming into spreading stardust and dust, blocking between the moon and the sun."

"The lunar eclipse occurred prematurely, and the Yuānfú Kingdom, illuminated by the moon, lost its power."

"The remaining Yuānfú Star then followed its original trajectory, plunging into the world, crashing towards the Northern Abyss Sea."

"The Sword Saint was the Dark Lord's chosen candidate in the human realm, so the Dark Lord would never allow him to be killed."

"A meteor fell from the sky, interrupting this battle with an external force. The Sword Saint was swallowed by the Kunpeng, diving deep to avoid the explosion. The other four scattered, their fates unknown. And all of this..."

"All of this happened unexpectedly."

The ink on the brush was slightly dry. A seemingly tiny girl sat on a stone, draped in an ill-fitting robe of dark green with white gauze. Though young and innocent, her appearance was exquisitely beautiful beyond words. Behind her dark, elegant hair hung a faint, indistinct crescent moon, whose pure light illuminated her.

She was Ye Chan Gong.

The Yuānfú Kingdom had been forcefully shut down, and she was compelled to leave, arriving in the human realm.

She recorded the events of this night, a faint sorrow reflected in her serene, picturesque brows.

She put away her brush, closed the book, and placed it in the void beside her.

Ye Chan Gong used her right hand for these actions.

For her left hand still held a slender bone chain.

It was the dragon bone of the Thunder Prison's death row.

A beautiful white cat was tied to the bone chain. It had tabby-like tiger stripes, and a crooked character "King" was written on its forehead.

The white cat stared profoundly at her.

The young girl took out a strand of colorful hair and held it to the white cat's nose. The cat sniffed reluctantly.

"Did you smell it clearly? Go find her, and ensure her safety."

Ye Chan Gong gave her command to the white tabby-striped cat.