Chapter 433: Dusk and Twilight Demon Meets Demon

Billowing dark smoke licked the sky, and the edges of the tree leaves below curled up, exuding an aura of decay.

Sounds like cicadas buzzing from between towering trees were followed by the crash of falling timber and the angry roars of ancient beasts. Further away, winged dragons soared into the clouds, circling like ospreys.

Shao Xiaoli's spine tingled with dread as she looked at the ancient dragons surrounding her.

Moments ago, she had been standing in the Divine Painting Pavilion, but in an instant, its historical panorama unfolded and enveloped her.

Before her lay a primeval forest, while behind, waves churned in a rushing river.

It seemed to be the Luo River.

Holding her sword and wearing a clean, pear-blossom-colored dress, she appeared in this world, feeling somewhat out of place.

She watched as dragons gathered and black demons continuously surged from a distance. Human settlements were engulfed, and many cultivators, gripping iron swords, charged towards them. Blood spilled across these scenes.

Where… where was this?

Shao Xiaoli gazed at the wide, boundless river at her feet, a sense of familiarity rising within her. Was it the Luo River?

"Lord Luoshen, the tide of demons has advanced! The ox formation has been torn apart, and even the elders from the southern camps have gone to stop them, but they likely won't hold out. Lord Luoshen, please leave quickly!"

Someone ran forward quickly, knelt before her, and cried out hoarsely.

Shao Xiaoli looked at the subordinate before her, wanting to reply, but a voice not her own echoed in her mind: "I cannot leave."

The person trembled all over and said, "We can't possibly win! There are far too many of them; they could flatten all the camps near the Luo River just by walking over them!"

The clear, cold voice in Shao Xiaoli's mind spoke again: "Go find the four elders. Tell them to lead the common people north to seek refuge behind the snow mountains. I will hold them back and wait for reinforcements."

"Wait for reinforcements... No one will come, Lord Luoshen! Are you still waiting for him? Didn't you say you would lead us to a world of light? If you die, everything will be over!"

The blood-stained, sword-wielding subordinate shouted with agitated fervor.

Shao Xiaoli looked at him, her heart clenching. She turned her head and saw many more people around her—men and women, old and young—all in tattered clothes, their eyes, full of fear and emptiness, fixed on her.

"Take us with you."

"Lord Luoshen, don't abandon us..."

"There's no food in the snow mountains; we'll die if we go there."

Shao Xiaoli's eardrums hummed and vibrated. In the distance, massive beasts seemed to be rushing towards them, and the ground continuously trembled. In her mind, her other self spoke again:

"I am not waiting for anyone. I stay here only to carve a path through blood for you. If I fail, I will die with you."

After speaking, she uncontrollably walked towards the distant roars of dragons and great demons.

The cries of her people and subordinates faded far behind her.

Don't... don't...

Shao Xiaoli also cried out in her heart. In her eyes, she seemed to see the Luo River stained red with blood again, the scene of ospreys circling and the setting sun falling. She saw herself dying by the Luo River, leaning on her war blade, surrounded by piles of corpses at her feet, while the people she protected slowly approached from behind, kneeling together in the pool of blood.

For a moment, Shao Xiaoli couldn't distinguish between reality and illusion.

The low growls of the demonic dragons sent a chill up her spine. Gripping her sword, she crouched, staring at the gathering azure dragons, but her body uncontrollably leaped forward, as if fulfilling a predestined historical mission.

In the gray sky, as Shao Xiaoli charged forward with her sword, streaks of white sword light suddenly brushed past her.

In this sword light, she found a glimmer of clarity.

Amidst the interwoven bright flashes, blood splattered, and the massive bodies of dragons and demons fell one after another. Before she could react, a hand encircled her waist, and as the wind whistled past her ears, she was already soaring high in the sky.

"Master..."

Shao Xiaoli whispered softly as her consciousness returned. She looked at the young man holding her and said gently, "I... I could have fought them."

Ning Changjiu said, "They are not our enemies. No need to waste time."

The sword rainbow landed, and a golden crow flew out. Lu Jiajia and Siming drew their swords together, blocking the front of the camp. The ox formation had already been broken, and terrifying figures, like a horde of apes, surged forward.

Lu Jiajia and Siming exchanged glances, then simultaneously thrust out their black and white swords.

Shao Xiaoli stood behind them, watching the light converging in the sky, and suddenly felt an urge to cry.

"Did you wait for him?"

In her heart, the faint voice spoke again.

Shao Xiaoli paused, then quickly replied with her mind: "I did!"

"You waited... That's good."

The voice drifted away, dissipating gently.

Shao Xiaoli clutched her chest, feeling a sense of both gain and loss.

In front, dragons and demons screamed amidst the sword light, falling in swathes like rice stalks being harvested.

After all, this was merely a historical illusion; the realms of those gods and demons seemed false beneath their swords.

The fleeing people nearby stared blankly at them, wondering what divine soldiers had descended from where.

The four quickly broke through this area, continuing onward until, in the blink of an eye, they arrived at the shores of Beiming.

"Don't be afraid. This is just a historical illusion from the Divine Painting Pavilion, events from over three thousand years ago," Ning Changjiu said, patting Shao Xiaoli's shoulder comfortingly.

"I, I wasn't scared," Shao Xiaoli said earnestly. "I wasn't scared back then either!"

"Yes, our Xiaoli is the bravest," Ning Changjiu said with a soft smile, looking at the young girl beside him.

"Master, why are we here? Is that goat so powerful? Can't even you defeat it?" Shao Xiaoli asked.

Ning Changjiu explained, "It's closely connected to this world, and its power far surpasses the projections of other kingdom lords. But a projection is just a projection; I'm certainly not afraid of it now. It's just that... Master said she wanted some quiet."

"Master..."

Shao Xiaoli murmured softly.

Lu Jiajia and Siming flew back on their swords.

Shao Xiaoli exclaimed admiringly, "Sisters' swords are truly getting faster and faster."

Siming pinched her cheek and sighed, "Unfortunately, history is just history. Even if we kill everything here, we can't change the past by a single iota."

"It's alright, the past is in the past," Shao Xiaoli said, feigning nonchalance.

Siming's icy gaze softened. She walked over to Shao Xiaoli and whispered, "The sea breeze ahead is very salty. Xiaoli, if you want to cry, just cry."

Shao Xiaoli pursed her lips and murmured, "What does that matter? Sister Siming is just teasing Xiaoli again..."

Lu Jiajia, who was in front, stopped.

By the shores of Beiming, Baizang had grown a little larger and was lying on the ground. Ye Changong, with a large bow tied around her, stood on scorched black rocks, gazing at the smoke-filled sunset. Golden light still flowed from her right eye.

"Master, has Yuanjun caught up?" Lu Jiajia asked.

Ye Changong withdrew her gaze and said, "He should have caught up by now."

Ning Changjiu said, "Don't be afraid, I'm confident I can destroy Yuanjun's projection. But... I'm worried there might be other enemies."

Lu Jiajia asked, "Did your last sword strike kill Ke Wenzhou?"

Ning Changjiu directed his consciousness to Liu Xiwang in his mind's lake.

Liu Xiwang stammered for a moment, then annoyed, said, "Don't you know the power of the Heaven's Oracle Sword Scripture's fatal strike?"

Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment, then looked at Lu Jiajia and said in a deep voice, "He might still be alive."

As they left the space of the Candle Dragon's corpse, the young Ke Wenzhou's broken body fell to the bottom of the remains, submerged by falling rocks and surging spiritual energy, his fate unknown.

Ning Changjiu had hastily glanced with his Taiyin Eye at that time and vaguely noticed fragments of consciousness seemed to be hidden at the bottom of the Candle Dragon's sea of consciousness, but he had no time to discern what they were.

Lu Jiajia's brows furrowed. "The Dark Lord's dark power is like the infinite authority you told me about," she said. "As long as a single breath remains, he can fully recover."

Ning Changjiu also felt a touch of despair. "Killing one Ke Wenzhou was already this difficult. If the entire Dark Lord is like this, how can we win?"

Siming walked to the sea's edge, looking at the vast expanse. "The creations tasked with guarding the previous civilization want to kill us, the newly born... That's quite ironic, isn't it?"

Ning Changjiu said, "Perhaps this is civilization's tribulation."

Only by enduring tribulation can one arrive in a new world.

Ning Changjiu walked over to Ye Changong, looked at her right eye, which glowed with an unusual color, and asked, "Master, what exactly is happening with your eye?"

Ye Changong said, "I'm not certain yet, but I know it's related to the kindling."

"Kindling..." Ning Changjiu asked, "Why are we here?"

Ye Changong said, "I have some ideas that need verification. I'll tell you once I've confirmed them."

"Understood." Ning Changjiu did not press further.

Any direct expression of thought could be spied upon by beings from above the Divine Kingdom. Before fully comprehending her ideas, Ye Changong couldn't vocalize them.

The young girl took one last look at the waters of Beiming. She wrapped her arms around Baizang's neck, and her small body climbed onto its back, settling firmly on the white tiger's spine.

"Master, where are we going now?" Shao Xiaoli asked.

"To an even earlier time," Ye Changong said. "To four thousand years ago."

Central Lands, Sword Pavilion, Seventy-Third Grotto-Heaven.

There were five days left until the day Ke Wenzhou said he would emerge from seclusion.

In the preceding days, Liu Junzhuo had attempted to engage the ghostly figures wandering the ancient corridors. To her surprise, these specters seemed truly undead; even when cut into thousands of pieces, they would reassemble perfectly.

They paid no attention to her sword strikes, merely continuing their ceaseless, methodical wanderings through the ancient corridors.

Today, a faint tremor came from the northwest.

No matter how earth-shattering the events in the northwest were, by the time the vibrations reached the Sword Pavilion, they were only a faint tremble.

Yet, it was this faint tremor that caused the specters wandering the ancient corridors to halt.

Liu Junzhuo looked out from her cell.

To her astonishment, these specters not only stopped but also extended their hands, using their jade tablets to tap on the walls beside the disciples in seclusion.

Without hesitation, Liu Junzhuo immediately activated the power of the shattered kingdom within her. As sword light flared, she leaped, sweeping horizontally with her sword, stirring up a chaotic flurry of shimmering light and shadow. Amidst the light, the specters fell to the ground in pieces, then rapidly began to reassemble.

At the same time, the disciples who had been cultivating and tempering their bodies in the Grotto-Heaven slowly opened their eyes, one after another.

The Senior Disciple Sister was the first to awaken.

Zhou Zhenyue watched her, sword in hand, standing in the ancient corridor as if facing an enemy. Frowning, she asked, "Junior Sister... what are you doing?"

Many wriggling shadows separated Liu Junzhuo and her, but it was clear that Zhou Zhenyue could not see them.

Liu Junzhuo's vermilion lips parted slightly; she wanted to explain.

But the other disciples also quickly woke up, and everyone instinctively looked at her.

Under their collective gaze, she felt her body stiffen slightly.

Liu Junzhuo opened her mouth, then lowered her eyelids, avoiding looking at the reassembled specters. Instead, she said softly, "It's nothing. Just checking if my sword has become sharper after the body tempering."

She couldn't solve the problem of these specters herself, and the other disciples certainly couldn't. Rashly mentioning it would only cause panic.

Zhou Zhenyue simply hummed in acknowledgment, not suspecting her junior sister.

"There are still five days until the date Master mentioned. Why are you all awake?" Liu Junzhuo asked curiously.

Zhou Zhenyue explained, "Forty-five days is the final deadline; we must depart regardless of whether body tempering is successful or not. Waking up early is certainly good; perhaps we can even assist Master."

"Oh, I see..." Liu Junzhuo responded absently.

Zhou Zhenyue had already gone to gather the disciples and inspect their cultivation results. Although the body tempering process was painful, the outcome was smoother than expected. In just over a month, the Sword Pavilion had gained ten disciples who had reached the pseudo-Fifth Dao realm out of nowhere.

However, it was unknown how much these realms would truly help in the battles to come.

The disciples exited the Seventy-Third Grotto-Heaven together.

During this process, the specters did not make a move.

But instead of being relieved, Liu Junzhuo felt an even greater chill down her spine because after they left the Grotto-Heaven, the ghosts in ancient robes, holding jade tablets, followed them! They stood one after another behind the disciples, like inescapable shadows.

Liu Junzhuo could foresee that if these specters wanted to act, they could use the Art of Puppet Creation without the disciples' knowledge, turning everyone into manipulable puppets.

How... how could she stop them?

Liu Junzhuo's fists tightened, and cold sweat beaded on her skin. As the wind ruffled her hair, her jade-like toes inside her boots couldn't help but curl.

"Junior Sister." Zhou Zhenyue gently touched her shoulder. Liu Junzhuo flinched and looked at her.

Zhou Zhenyue looked at her junior sister's serene and beautiful face, asking worriedly, "Junior Sister, what's wrong? Did something go amiss during your body tempering? Or... is something troubling you?"

Liu Junzhuo tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Seeing her senior sister's concerned expression, her resolve grew firmer: killing the person controlling the puppets would cause the puppets to die with them... she would kill whoever controlled them, even if that person was her revered master.

Liu Junzhuo shook her head. "It's nothing. I was just a little, um... worried about our youngest junior sister."

"Our youngest junior sister..." Zhou Zhenyue also thought of Liu Xiwang. "That Ning Changjiu is ruthless. Our junior sister has entered the tiger's den and the wolf's mouth. I wonder about her safety? I hope she succeeds in the assassination."

Liu Junzhuo gave a self-deprecating laugh, her voice very soft. "It would be good if Junior Sister isn't the one being assassinated."

"What?" Zhou Zhenyue didn't hear clearly.

"I mean, Junior Sister will definitely succeed," Liu Junzhuo said with a faint smile.

Zhou Zhenyue nodded slightly, worry still evident in her expression.

The other disciples were also ready.

Led by the two senior sisters, they moved together toward the northwest, with the specters in ancient robes and jade tablets following closely behind.

"Senior Sister, once we reach Guhuang, please stay put. My cultivation realm is the highest, so I'll scout ahead for you," Liu Junzhuo said. "Once I confirm everything is safe, I'll come back and inform you. In short... don't rush forward."

Although Zhou Zhenyue didn't know what exactly Liu Junzhuo was worried about, for safety reasons, she agreed to her junior sister's plan.

That evening, thirteen figures successively departed from the Sword Pavilion.

This was the eve of many major events, and a stifling atmosphere hung inexplicably over the Central Lands. The winds and clouds sweeping across the human realm became dry, as if foretelling an impending disaster.

Today, the Nine Spirits Sage bid farewell to Baize and the little monkey, saying he was going to meet an old friend.

The little monkey was painstakingly building a wooden dragon inside the house.

"I've heard the legends from the Central Lands: 'When the Four Symbols bring disaster, the Golden Dragon emerges, and worshipping it brings salvation...'" the little monkey said, weaving the wooden dragon. "When the disaster strikes, we'll perform a dragon dance on the city walls, trick the people out, and then destroy the eighty-one cities to rescue the Saint!"

"A dragon dance, you say?" Baize gently shook his head. "I've only heard of people doing lion and dragon dances, never a lion doing a dragon dance."

The little monkey frowned, saying urgently, "Stop with the sarcasm, and come help me! We'll save whoever we can!"

Baize said, "Your golden dragon, no matter its size, won't be visible to the entire city."

The little monkey asked, "Then how big does the dragon need to be?"

Baize replied, "At least half the size of eighty-one cities."

The little monkey's movements stiffened slightly. It looked eagerly at Baize and asked, "Then... can you use your demonic power to create one?"

Baize shook his head. "If I'm to rescue the Saint, I can't waste my energy on that."

The little monkey clenched its fists, gazing at the wooden dragon it had painstakingly made, and muttered to itself, "Is there really no other way?"

Inside a temple, the Nine Spirits Sage stepped over the threshold, his gaze sweeping past the bustling crowd until it finally rested on a large tortoise lying in a pond.

This was the temple's money tortoise; throwing coins onto its back symbolized good fortune.

So, its back was piled with many coins.

This tortoise was very old, its neck wrinkled, its eyelids drooping. It looked like a wise, old man.

Its feet stood in the water, its head tilted outwards, and behind it, the temple's Buddha statues gleamed with gold lacquer, while wisps of green smoke curled upwards.

The Nine Spirits Sage walked up to the tortoise, looked at it, and took out a flattened bell, remarking, "Long time no see..."

The old tortoise's head moved slightly, turning towards the lion.

It stared at the broken bell for a long time before saying, "Indeed, long time no see... Nine Spirits Azure Lion, I didn't expect you to still be alive."

The Nine Spirits Sage smiled and said, "I'm not called that anymore. They call me the Nine Spirits Sage."

"Sage..." The old tortoise pondered. "That sounds more impressive. Unlike me, I still don't have a name."

The Nine Spirits Sage said, "Aren't you called the Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas?"

"That's my title, not my name." The Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas looked at the bell and asked, "How is the young man who brought you the bell?"

"He should be fine," the Nine Spirits Sage replied.

"You didn't eat him, did you?" the Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas asked, puzzled.

The Nine Spirits Sage chuckled self-deprecatingly. "How could I possibly have such ability?"

Worshippers came and went, seemingly none of them seeing the nine-headed lion.

The Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas looked at the hazy sky and said, "Five hundred years have passed..."

"Indeed." The Nine Spirits Sage nodded. "Five hundred years ago, the sky collapsed in the northwest and the earth sank in the southeast. At that time, I thought you were already dead."

The Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas said, "Don't worry, a thousand-year turtle, a ten-thousand-year tortoise—by that saying, I'm still young. Besides, tortoises always live longer than lions."

"Is that so..." The Nine Spirits Sage placed his hands on his knees and said, "Even living longer means only five hundred years. We're all just kept alive by the Saint's breath."

The Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas asked, "You've come to the eighty-one cities to rescue the Saint, haven't you?"

The Nine Spirits Sage replied, "And you? Are you here for the same reason?"

The Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas shook its head. "I don't have that ability. I just want to stay with him a little longer."

The Nine Spirits Sage suddenly felt a pang of sadness. He sat there, like a burly man in his twilight years reflecting on his life during his leisure time.

The Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas asked, "We still have many kin, currently suppressed beneath the human imperial city."

The Nine Spirits Sage nodded. "Yes."

"Can they be rescued?"

"If the Saint lives, they will live."

"Right... Many of our companions are still drifting in the Sea of Ruins. If possible, remember to bring them back and bury them."

"I'll... do my best," the Nine Spirits Sage said with a long sigh, pressing his hands on his knees. "If only the Saint had given me a sword instead of an iron umbrella, I wouldn't have to shield anyone from wind and rain."

The Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas consoled him, "The Saint's calculations are flawless. There must be a reason he gave you the umbrella."

"Perhaps."

The lion and tortoise, once imprisoned together in a cage during a downpour, conversed in this manner. After their struggle against the heavens, all spirits withered, and their once sharp eyes were now weathered, like brass bells covered in mottled rust.

Their reunion, after five hundred years apart, concluded in this way.

"The water here is too shallow. Are you accustomed to living in it?" the Nine Spirits Sage asked, standing up and looking at the tortoise.

The Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas said, "Now that the four seas are calm and the five lakes are still, the human world no longer needs me. I came from the temple, and I shall return to the temple."

The Nine Spirits Sage nodded. "Then take good care of yourself."

In the setting sun, the Spirit Tortoise of Suppressing the Seas turned its head, looked at the crimson light reflected in the water, and then at the scattered copper coins on its back, chuckling, "I'm doing well, see? How rich I am."

With a silent chuckle, the Nine Spirits Sage walked past the bustling crowds and out of the temple, which still enjoyed a decent flow of worshippers.

A woman's coin purse fell to the ground while she was buying incense. The Nine Spirits Sage, disguised as an old man, picked it up and returned it to her. The child beside her earnestly thanked "Grandpa."

After thanking him, the mother and child went into the temple. The child took the smallest copper coin and tried to toss it onto the money tortoise's back.

Inside the temple, people lit incense, praying for signs. The enshrined Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, with their hands forming mudras and brows lowered, exuded an immeasurable fullness of benevolence, as if capable of protecting everything.

What the people didn't know was that the old man who wished to destroy everything was currently standing outside, silently gazing at them.

The Nine Spirits Sage closed his eyes and turned to leave.

Suddenly, he looked up at the sky.

A golden-feathered bird flew down and perched on a tree beside him.

"Why are you here? Aren't you afraid I'll eat you?" The Nine Spirits Sage made no effort to hide his surprise.

The newcomer was the Golden-Winged Great Peng.

He was merely a remnant soul, wrapped in fragmented authority, barely able to maintain his true form.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng said, "This is a letter from the Queen of Ten Thousand Demons. It contains her conjectures from gazing at the stars recently. She asked me to give it to Unobservable; it might be useful."

The Nine Spirits Sage asked, "Then why didn't you go find Unobservable's disciple?"

The Golden-Winged Great Peng shook his head, weakly saying, "I don't have the strength to find them anymore. Please deliver it for me. Besides... I could only come to you."

The Nine Spirits Sage asked, puzzled, "Why?"

"My weakened remnant soul can do nothing more," the Golden-Winged Great Peng stared directly at him and said, "Haven't you always wanted to obtain the complete authority of the Gluttonous Beast? Now, devour me."