Chapter 435: 神仙老虎狗

Before he was sixteen, Ke Wenzhou would always sit in the long veranda of the courtyard, holding his sword and watching the rain drum against the banana leaves, sometimes lost in thought for an entire day.

His senior brothers and sisters practiced swordplay in the courtyard. Their old master would walk among them, occasionally correcting their postures and offering sword-fighting advice. The old master had the demeanor of a true expert; his steps were small, yet he always exuded an imposing aura.

Ke Wenzhou would quietly observe them, never uttering a word. Most people would forget about the boy; even the rain-streaked banana leaves in the courtyard were more noticeable than he was.

The rain fell crisply, and paper talismans covered the peeling pillars. When the brass bell chimed, the disciples gradually dispersed.

As they passed Ke Wenzhou, they would occasionally glance at him, but only because of his handsome appearance.

Ke Wenzhou had come to the sword academy to learn swordplay when he was four. He arrived clutching his family's treasured heirloom sword, which was exquisitely patterned, with a blade as sharp as snow, and of exceptional quality. At the time, they believed he would be a gifted young master from a noble family.

But ten years passed in the blink of an eye, and his sword skills made no progress; he still hadn't entered the path of cultivation.

No matter how good the physique of a cripple unable to cultivate, in a place teeming with cultivators, they would never be taken seriously.

"If you still haven't achieved the Xuan realm by the time you're sixteen, I'll have no choice but to send you away from the sect," the old master said, walking up to him and patting his shoulder.

Raindrops shattered on the banana leaves.

Ke Wenzhou turned around, nodded, and said, "Alright."

The old man shook his head, as if seeing through his forced attempt to maintain the dignity of a young master from a noble family, sighed, and then departed.

Ke Wenzhou remained seated, shrouded by the lush green leaves.

As disciples passed by, they would occasionally converse. They knew about Ke Wenzhou's background.

Ke Wenzhou came from a declining swordsmanship family, once renowned. However, several internal conflicts had severely depleted the family, and Ke Wenzhou's parents were among the losers of these struggles. Before her death, his mother had entrusted him with the family sword, urging him to live a good life.

Ke Wenzhou's memory of that period was hazy; he only remembered it as the first time his mother had touched his head.

He had a prominent bone at the back of his head, a "rebellious bone," considered an ill omen.

After his mother's death, his father had desperately tried to protect him, using every means to secretly send him away from the family home and place him in a very ordinary sword academy in the Central Lands, saving him from being completely eradicated.

This old master was a close friend of his father's from many years ago, a companion in adversity.

From then on, Ke Wenzhou rarely spoke. A meddlesome disciple often teased him, asking what he did sitting idly all day. He would say he was "nurturing his sword."

Nurturing his sword...

The person scoffed, saying, "You're frail and sickly, coughing all day. Why aren't you taking care of your body instead of nurturing a sword?"

Ke Wenzhou didn't answer.

Another two years passed in a flash.

That year, all disciples were to undergo a realm test. The top ten disciples would be sent to more prestigious sects for advanced training, while those whose realms were insufficient would be expelled from the master's tutelage.

Everyone held great expectations for advancing to stronger sects because the Divine War had already erupted in the heart of the Central Lands that year. To survive in such turbulent times, only a higher cultivation realm would suffice.

During the sixteen-year-old realm test, chaos broke out in the sword academy.

Most of the disciples had already completed their tests, and the top ten were almost decided. He stood with the few disciples whose realms were the lowest, and those around him unenthusiastically awaited their final "judgment."

The disciple who often came to mock him, unfortunately, placed eleventh, just one step away from his dream. His despondency was indescribable.

Just as it was Ke Wenzhou's turn to go for his test, a commotion suddenly erupted outside. Amidst an unexpected flash of blades, a disciple fell into a pool of blood. Then, many black-clad figures appeared in front, their attire suggesting they were assassins.

Ke Wenzhou quickly guessed they were there to kill him.

He knew his family had always believed in rooting out all threats. Now, he wondered which uncle had betrayed his father, finally allowing them to trace their way here.

Everyone watched the assassins nervously.

The old master stepped forward and drew his sword.

The assassins didn't even spare him a glance, demanding only that they hand over Ke Wenzhou in exchange for their lives.

At that time, he didn't bear this name; his father had made him change it before sending him away.

The old master was puzzled, and everyone panicked. Just as the assassins were about to kill someone to assert dominance, Ke Wenzhou, standing before the testing platform, suddenly placed his hand on the sword monument in front of him.

A sword monument was used to test talent and realm. When touched, the monument would respond by glowing, heating up, or humming, thereby indicating the cultivator's realm.

Although Ke Wenzhou was clearly standing on the high platform, everyone was accustomed to ignoring him, and no one paid him any attention.

Until a thunderous shattering sound erupted.

Everyone belatedly looked up and saw the black-clad youth with his hand on the sword monument. After emitting a dazzling white light, the monument disintegrated, shattering completely.

The youth looked at them and declared, "I am Ke Wenzhou."

The lead assassin spotted the rebellious bone on the back of his head, immediately reacted, and lunged towards him.

The sword monument platform was unevenly covered with sword light.

The camellias and banana leaves below the courtyard were shredded, red and green remnants in the spring.

Then, one by one, the assassins' bodies fell from above, crashing onto the ground.

"Who betrayed my father?"

Ke Wenzhou asked, looking at the last assassin.

The assassin opened his mouth but couldn't speak, only blood continuously gushed out.

Ke Wenzhou shook his head and threw him to the ground.

Everyone watched him in horror.

From a distance, the old master looked at him, his pupils contracting as if he had seen a demon. "You... you're really his son? How could a man like him produce a son like you...?"

Ke Wenzhou bowed to the old master and said, "My apologies for startling you, Master."

It took the old master a long time to recover, and he said, "I truly am old and dim-sighted, to have underestimated you for so many years."

Ke Wenzhou said, "My mother told me something before she died."

"What was it?" the old master asked.

"She said, 'A true gentleman hides within his tools,'" Ke Wenzhou said, gripping the ancient sword, brimming with spiritual energy, in his hand. "Then she gave me the sword. That was the first lesson my mother taught me. Before my father sent me away, he also said that a beast in a cage should not show its claws until it has grown. That was the first lesson my father taught me."

The old master looked at the ancient sword, remained silent for a long time, and finally nodded. "So you truly were nurturing your sword... You've learned both lessons very well. If old Ke could see you now, he would surely be relieved."

"Perhaps."

Ke Wenzhou's expression was slightly dazed. He looked at the disciple lying in a pool of blood and bowed deeply.

Although he hadn't killed him himself, the disciple had died because of him.

The disciples in the back were utterly astonished. They had never imagined that this boy, whom they had consistently ignored, possessed talent and a realm capable of crushing them all.

Especially the disciple who frequently mocked him.

He froze, trembling with terror, daring not to move, afraid that Ke Wenzhou might notice him and seek retaliation.

But Ke Wenzhou didn't even spare him a glance.

The disciple recovered from his shock and realized that the one lying in the pool of blood was precisely one of the top ten disciples, and he himself was eleventh... which meant...

But he quickly sobered up. Ke Wenzhou's display now overshadowed everyone; even with one death, he would still be eleventh.

Ahead, the old master was already arranging his future cultivation path.

"When you go to a better sect later, you must cultivate diligently and strive to avenge your parents someday," the old master said, handing him a wooden token from the Killing Sword Pavilion.

These sword academies were all affiliates of the renowned local sect, the Killing Sword Pavilion, established to recruit talent for them.

Under everyone's gaze, Ke Wenzhou refused the wooden token.

"Sect cultivation is too slow; it doesn't suit me. Besides... people will likely still come to kill me, and I don't want to implicate anyone," Ke Wenzhou said, then pushed open the courtyard gate.

The heavy rain poured down, and the courtyard was filled with the smell of blood.

The eleventh-ranked disciple stared blankly, speechless. It took him a long time to realize that an incredible stroke of luck had just fallen upon him.

Ke Wenzhou thus took his leave.

On the eve of his departure, the old master came to his room and handed him several sword manuals, secrets not to be divulged.

"These were given to me by your father long ago," the old master said, handing him a bundle. "He told me to give them to you once you entered the Xuan realm. You might not value them now, but... they are ultimately yours."

Ke Wenzhou said, "Thank you, Master."

The old master looked at his face, recalled his old friend, sighed, and said, "Your father entrusted you to me, but in these past ten years, I haven't been able to teach you anything."

Ke Wenzhou replied, "For granting me more than a decade of peace, this disciple is already eternally grateful."

The old master nodded and pushed the satchel containing the secret manuals into his arms.

Then, Ke Wenzhou's muffled groan of pain was heard.

He looked down in shock, seeing the blood spreading on his chest, and instantly understood. "It was you! You betrayed my father!"

The old master sighed. "Even if I hadn't betrayed him, they would have found him soon anyway. I... didn't want to die. I haven't taught you anything these past years, so this is the first lesson your master is giving you."

Ke Wenzhou gripped the sword blade tightly, but with his body impaled and wracked by convulsive pain, he couldn't exert any strength.

Outside, a heavy storm raged; it was a night of lightning and thunder.

The astonishing talent, the youth who had endured for many years, finally could not contend with cunning old age and was about to die on this stormy night.

Ke Wenzhou's palm was covered in blood. He watched helplessly as the blade slowly cut through his skin and pierced deeper.

If a sword tip had life, perhaps it would now hear the mournful thud of his heart... Ke Wenzhou thought in a daze.

Suddenly, he snapped out of his agony and roared, "Kill him!"

"Stop hiding! You saw him kill someone; he won't spare you! If you want to live, kill this old man!"

The sound of the door opening suddenly echoed. The old master didn't react in time; he instinctively turned his head and then let out a pained groan.

Lightning momentarily illuminated the room.

In the white flash, the old master faintly saw a pale, terrified face.

This was his disciple... what was his name again...? The old master couldn't recall at that moment, only remembering that he had been eleventh in today's test.

In that instant, Ke Wenzhou pulled the sword from his own chest and, with a backhand, thrust it into the old master's throat, pinning him to the ground. The old master made no sound as his neck was cut, and after a violent tremor, his limbs quickly grew cold and stiff.

Then came the sound of a blade falling to the ground.

The disciple who had backstabbed the old master collapsed to his knees with a thud, tears streaming down his face in terror.

"I... I came to find you... I didn't mean to kill... I..."

He looked at his blood-stained hands, at his dead master. After the initial surge of impulse that filled his mind, a profound sense of fear erupted from within.

He had come to find Ke Wenzhou, after a long hesitation. He wanted to apologize and express his gratitude, though he wasn't sure if his remorse and appreciation were genuine. But he felt he should do it... and thus, he inadvertently witnessed the scene of master and disciple killing each other.

He had intended to leave unnoticed, but Ke Wenzhou discovered him and called him out.

In his intense panic, Ke Wenzhou's words filled his mind. He believed him, believing that just as the master would kill Ke Wenzhou afterwards, he would also kill him, who had discovered the truth.

Fear and impulse propelled him forward; he charged in and killed his master with a single sword stroke.

He knelt on the ground, looking at Ke Wenzhou, and after a long time, he stammered, "Now... what do we do?"

Ke Wenzhou clutched his chest and said, "Come with me. You saved my life; I won't let you die."

And so, on that stormy night, as if by some strange twist of fate, they left the sword academy.

He thought Ke Wenzhou would find a secluded place to kill him too, and immediately began to tremble, apologizing, "I... I used to often..."

"Don't speak; you might wake others," Ke Wenzhou said. "I don't care about the past. I don't even know your name."

The disciple said, "My name is Yun Yi..."

Yun Yi, not a complicated name, but Ke Wenzhou still preferred to call him Eleven afterwards.

He was the eleventh-ranked in the courtyard that day.

In this strange way, they became friends.

Over the next year, they traveled throughout the Central Lands.

During that year, many tried to kill Ke Wenzhou. Among them, the most frequent attackers were from a well-known assassin organization called the Killing Royal Court.

However, all those who came to kill him ultimately failed.

Finally, a year later, a renowned assassin from the Killing Royal Court accepted the mission to kill him. That assassin lived up to his reputation and eventually brought Ke Wenzhou back to the Royal Court to meet the King of Assassins.

Upon hearing this news, the Ke family patriarch was overjoyed. Carrying the promised fortune, he rushed to the Killing Royal Court by sword overnight.

The patriarch met the King of Assassins.

He handed over half of the gold and silver and asked, "Where is Ke Wenzhou?"

The King of Assassins removed his hat, revealing the conspicuous rebellious bone at the back of his head. "Uncle, long time no see."

The sword pierced the relative's heart.

Yun Yi walked over from the side, shaking his head gently. "No one will bother us anymore, right?"

At that time, when the renowned assassin came to kill Ke Wenzhou, Ke Wenzhou and he together killed him. Then, Yun Yi disguised himself as the assassin, escorting Ke Wenzhou to meet the master of the Killing Royal Court. Together in the royal hall, they slew him and took his place.

This was an incredible feat, but for Ke Wenzhou, it wasn't difficult.

He was a true genius; some even said his future achievements would surpass those of Qiu Ziguan and Li He.

"Yes, I've killed too many people this year; I'm tired of it. It's time for us to bid farewell to the past," Ke Wenzhou said.

Yun Yi thought of the surreal experiences of the past year and gave a wry smile. "I never thought I'd become friends with you."

Ke Wenzhou said, "Fate is unpredictable, perhaps this is how it was meant to be. Anyway... thank you."

Yun Yi said, "Don't mention it. Your realm far surpasses mine. In this past year, I haven't killed even a fraction of the people you have. I probably won't be able to help you much more in the future. Ha, you wouldn't kill me, a useless piece of trash like me, to silence me, would you?"

Ke Wenzhou smiled and said, "Without you, I couldn't have killed the Royal Court master that day. Even the smallest help can be a matter of life and death."

Yun Yi asked, "What do you plan to do next?"

Ke Wenzhou said, "I want to find a true renowned master, I want to reach the pinnacle of the Dao, I want to... become the foremost swordsman under heaven."

Yun Yi looked at him, feeling that he would someday achieve it.

It was ten years later before Ke Wenzhou found the renowned master he sought.

During those ten years, they continued to roam the world together, visiting immortal sects, challenging experts, and cultivating secret techniques.

However, limited by his talent, even with Ke Wenzhou's help, Yun Yi could at most reach the peak of the Longevity realm.

"Two hundred years of life is still too short. If you ever see the scenery of the Great Dao beyond that, remember to tell me."

This is what Yun Yi said to him ten years later.

That day, the Saint finally agreed to accept him as a disciple. He wanted to bring Yun Yi along, but Yun Yi's aptitude was simply too far below the prodigious talents under the Saint's tutelage. Bringing him in would not only break the rules but also bring him no benefit.

Yun Yi was also sensible and bid him farewell.

"Yes, I'll come find you after I've completed my studies. These years... thank you," Ke Wenzhou said earnestly.

Yun Yi, however, laughed and said, "Now that no one's holding you back, I imagine your realm will soar even higher."

"Don't say such things," Ke Wenzhou said. "My Senior Uncle Dapeng told me about a profound cultivation technique called 'Outer Body,' which can almost double one's strength... Until then, you are my Outer Body."

After Ke Wenzhou said this, he felt it wasn't quite right. Yun Yi was his friend, not his weapon. He wanted to explain himself, but Yun Yi simply said, "I am honored."

Ke Wenzhou was speechless.

These two close friends, who had been companions for many years, drank wine through the night, then temporarily bid farewell, promising to reunite years later.

Ke Wenzhou became a disciple of the Saint.

Those were the years he was most single-minded.

In the past, he rarely encountered rivals, but now he realized his horizons had been too narrow; almost everyone he met here could crush him with a single finger.

On his first day of admission, he and all the other disciples were given a crucial instruction: Do not ascend.

He didn't understand why, but ascension was a distant matter after all, so he didn't dwell on it and simply focused on his cultivation.

He rarely got to truly see the Saint. His instructor was the Golden-Winged Great Peng, a very famous figure, said to be one of the Demon Saints of the demon race, who had once devoured a Buddha. His Yang Phoenix Azure Feather Sword was even more devastating.

Ke Wenzhou once asked, "I was born with a rebellious bone, which is an ominous sign. Why did the Saint still accept me as a disciple?"

The Golden-Winged Great Peng gently touched the back of his head and said, "In these years, have you ever betrayed anyone?"

Ke Wenzhou replied, "I betrayed my master and my family."

The Golden-Winged Great Peng said, "That was a betrayal of evil. Without betraying evil, how can one know light and goodness?"

Ke Wenzhou nodded, half understanding.

"Senior Uncle, what exactly is this Central Lands War for?" Ke Wenzhou asked.

"You are still young, and your realm is shallow; you don't need to know these things," the Golden-Winged Great Peng replied.

Later, as his realm grew higher, he learned more and more.

Many years later, led by the Golden-Winged Great Peng, he witnessed a scene above the Immortal Court that would forever remain etched in his memory.

It was a vast field of skeletal remains, like rice paddies...

That was the fate of those who ascended.

On this day, Ke Wenzhou finally understood that they were always confined within a vast cage, unable to break free. Those who yearned for freedom had their flesh stripped away, becoming mere bones, tragically weathered in the legendary realm of freedom, the Immortal Court.

This was the destiny of cultivators.

"We are the ones who break destiny," the Golden-Winged Great Peng said, standing in the sunlight, his wings shimmering with golden light.

Ke Wenzhou remained lost in thought for a long time.

The Golden-Winged Great Peng continued, "Your talent is exceptional, far exceeding my initial expectations. However, historically, many geniuses like you have met bad ends. But I believe you will always accomplish something different. In a few more decades, I probably won't be able to teach you anything else."

Ke Wenzhou shook his head and said, "How can that be? I can't even withstand a single strike from your Yang Phoenix Azure Feather Sword right now... Besides, there's still so much I haven't learned."

The Golden-Winged Great Peng asked, "The Saint possesses countless ultimate techniques: Heaven and Earth Mimicry, Grand Immortal Transformation Arts, the Changes of Heavenly and Earthly Fiends. Which one do you wish to learn?"

Ke Wenzhou lowered his head, Yun Yi's face appearing in his mind. They still met occasionally over the years, though less and less frequently. He instinctively blurted out, "I want to learn Outer Body!"

Afterward, the Golden-Winged Great Peng indeed taught him the Outer Body technique.

Decades had passed since he first entered the sect.

On the day he mastered the Outer Body technique, he was ecstatic. He immediately rode his sword out that very night, eager to find his closest friend from years ago.

He wanted to tell him that from now on, his main body could remain under the Saint's tutelage for cultivation, while his Outer Body could accompany him in wandering the world.

Yun Yi died on this very day.

His illness had been a lingering issue for many years, caused by a mad ancient god. If Ke Wenzhou hadn't arrived in time to save him, Yun Yi would likely have already died.

But the life he had painstakingly extended finally succumbed to the relentless toll of his illness.

When Ke Wenzhou arrived, Yun Yi was already on his deathbed.

What Yun Yi said before he died, Ke Wenzhou faintly heard:

"You'll become the foremost swordsman under heaven, won't you?"

"Yes!"

"Then... you must kill them all."

Ke Wenzhou had once described the scene in the Immortal Court to him. At the time, he didn't yet know that the existence above the Divine Realm was called the Dark Lord. They only knew that something was circling outside, imprisoning all living beings.

"Alright," Ke Wenzhou promised.

He dared not speak too much, afraid the other wouldn't have time to hear.

Yun Yi's head tilted, and his hand slipped down.

That stormy night from years ago felt like just yesterday, yet in a flash, his old friend was gone forever.

Ke Wenzhou returned to the Saint's sect. He locked himself in his room, silently alone for many days.

It seemed to be fate's arrangement once more.

When he left his room, he inadvertently witnessed another horrifying scene.

He saw four disciples gathered in the courtyard, beneath the lush banana leaves, discussing something.

Before each of them stood a monument—a Heaven Tablet.

"You're going to ascend?!"

Ke Wenzhou reacted and immediately demanded an answer.

The four disciples were startled by his appearance but quickly composed themselves.

"Yes, we're leaving," one of them replied.

"Why?" Ke Wenzhou asked, puzzled. "The Saint has long told us not to ascend, not to ascend! You've all seen what lies above the Immortal Court!"

"But we're losing... this war is unwinnable. Rather than waiting for death in the mortal realm, why not ascend to the azure heavens and see what's there?" another said. "Perhaps, not ascending is the real deception?"

Ke Wenzhou's pupils contracted. "You don't believe the Saint? Senior Brother, you... we've killed so many ancient gods over the years; we can win!"

"We can't win, we can't win... You haven't reached the true Heavenly Pillar yet, you haven't seen how terrifying the front lines are; those are unconquerable enemies!" someone stammered.

The last disciple echoed, "I, I don't disbelieve the Saint; I disbelieve myself."

"Perhaps... perhaps there's still a way out through ascension?"

"This Heaven Tablet was made by me, expending half my life's effort. I've traveled to many places in the world and verified its accuracy; it cannot be wrong... Or rather, I want to know before I die if it truly is wrong!"

"Yes, I want to know too. I'm tired of fighting. I want to see what's outside. You can see the stars out there, but why can't you touch them?"

"You all..." Ke Wenzhou was speechless, unsure how to persuade them.

Ultimately, these four senior brothers ascended together.

The courtyard was empty. He stood there in solitude, surrounded by the emerald banana leaves.

A long time later, a torrential rain of blood fell from the sky.

Rain drummed on the banana leaves.

Ke Wenzhou felt an unprecedented sense of loneliness and despair.

He desperately wanted to see the Saint, to express the emotions churning within him, to understand the truth of the world, to know if the existence above the Divine Realm was truly unconquerable!

He wanted to take up his sword, climb the mountain, and die fighting on Kunlun.

All these thoughts were tangled chaotically in his mind.

His eyes were bloodshot, showing signs of succumbing to demonic influence, when a clear, ethereal voice suddenly rang out:

"Don't look anymore. Your senior brothers are all dead."

It was a woman's voice.

"Who's there?!"

Ke Wenzhou whirled around. At this moment, he had reached the peak of the Fifth Dao, yet he hadn't noticed anyone arriving.

At the foot of the courtyard steps stood a woman of indescribable grace and nobility. She wore a phoenix-patterned gown, her hands demurely clasped in front of her, her face obscured.

"My surname is Zhu," the woman said. "You are the one chosen by the Saint. I will teach you some things that you must engrave in your heart and never forget."

In the courtyard, beneath the blood-splattered banana leaves, the woman, who introduced herself as Zhu, taught him his first and last lesson: Put your thoughts into a box.

The woman demonstrated with a multi-layered wooden box.

A simple wooden box, after being concealed with multiple layers, actually managed to deceive his divine sense.

Ke Wenzhou found it somewhat unbelievable.

"This is all I will teach you," said the woman named Zhu.

Ke Wenzhou asked, "What is the meaning of this?"

The woman said, "You may lose this war, but it will be far from over. You are the one chosen by the Saint, so you must survive, survive for five hundred years, until the flame of hope is rekindled. During these five hundred years, you... must hide yourself well."

"Hide myself well?"

Ke Wenzhou involuntarily recalled his experiences from ages four to sixteen.

He asked, "Hide myself in a box?"

"Yes," the woman said. "Hide your loyalty to the Saint, your responsibility to humanity, and your unwavering resolve even in the face of death."

"And after I hide them?" Ke Wenzhou asked. "What will I become then?"

The woman replied, "A demon, heartless and unrighteous, focused solely on seeking the Dao."

Ke Wenzhou's face showed fear. "If that's the case, I'll kill many people, won't I? Kill many good people..."

The woman said, "Yes."

Ke Wenzhou immediately shook his head. "Then I'd rather die on Kunlun!"

The woman gave him one last look and said, "In this world, countless people have already died, many more are dying, and an untold number will die in the future... You too will surely die. But dying now would be meaningless for a war destined to fail."

"Why is it destined to fail?"

"Because we miscalculated; the enemy is much stronger than we imagined."

This reason, incredibly simple, suffocated Ke Wenzhou.

Stronger than the Saint... stronger than all of them combined... So even if he didn't die now, what could he possibly do?

As the woman stepped into the shadows beneath the courtyard, her form grew increasingly faint. She said, "In opera troupes, there's a saying: 'Sheng, Dan, Jing, Mo, Chou – gods, tigers, dogs.' Now, the stage is still set on Kunlun, and before death, both humans and demons are gods and tigers. But once the play concludes, and the stage collapses..."

"I understand," Ke Wenzhou interrupted, looking up, his eyes bloodshot. "I'll play the dog!"

Before finally disappearing, the phoenix-gowned woman told him that time was running out. He had to complete all preparations before the war ended. Otherwise, once the war concluded, the entity above the Divine Realm would have leisure to turn its attention elsewhere, and then, everything he had done would turn to dust.

From that day on, he began searching for that box.

He knew how to sever his seven emotions, six desires, and a part of his mind, but he could never find a suitable box.

Until one day, he stepped out of his room and gazed at the land from a high building. In that moment, he suddenly understood: wasn't the Central Lands itself the largest box?

He could bury his consciousness within the earth, then leave a clue for his future self to inadvertently discover it.

But if he simply did that, if his consciousness were accidentally discovered by someone, it would certainly arouse suspicion...

Beyond the box, he would need other things as a cover.

He returned to his room and casually opened an ancient book, just then seeing a line of text:

"The Torch Dragon died colliding with heaven, its yin fire extinguished, falling to dust. Its bones are buried deep within the earth, their exact whereabouts unknown. Some say they are hidden in the waters of the North or South Sea, others in the ruins of the Skeleton Tower. Still others claim that dragons return to their homeland upon death, and thus should be found in the Cloud Nation or the Ancient Blazing territory..."

Ke Wenzhou's pupils burned as he read the line.

The Torch Dragon...

Then he would use the myth of the Torch Dragon as a cover.

Even if it were discovered, people would only assume it was the dying consciousness left behind by the Torch Dragon deity, yearning for someone to revive this great being.

And in the unseen, it seemed someone was also helping him.

Beneath Ancient Blazing, he actually discovered the remains of the Torch Dragon. These remains were completely clean, merely a skeleton.

Here, he severed his last thoughts, his longing for old friends, and the rebellious bone at the back of his head, burying them all deep beneath Ancient Blazing. At that time, he also discovered vast amounts of spiritual energy hidden beneath the earth's crust, but he had no time to investigate its origin.

Severing the rebellious bone was actually meaningless, but it was a part of his body, and he hoped it could guide him.

Five hundred years ago, in the silent depths beneath Ancient Blazing, the young man with a blood-soaked head buried his fragmented thoughts deep beneath the soil. He placed his consciousness into a box.

Finally, he wanted to see the Saint one last time, but the Saint was still in the heavens, beyond his reach.

When he left Ancient Blazing, his consciousness was already blurred.

He crawled out, like a dog. He only remembered that he was to act as a dog.

In the same year, this momentous Divine War concluded.

After experiencing a period of confusion following the erasure of his consciousness, he rebelled against the dilapidated Saint's Gate.

"Ke Wenzhou, do you know what you are doing?!" It seemed to be the voice of the Golden-Winged Great Peng.

"I cannot kill you today, but one day, I will personally break your sword, along with your head!" It sounded like the roar of a lion.

"The Saint truly misjudged you!"

"You rebellious spawn with a defiant bone!"

"Does what you're doing do justice to Yun Yi?! Didn't you say you wanted to become the foremost swordsman under heaven?"

"Yun Yi?" Ke Wenzhou gently shook his head, murmuring to himself, "Who... is he?"

The foremost swordsman under heaven... am I to become the foremost swordsman under heaven...?

He walked out, sword on his back, and never looked back.

All of these complete memories were gained by him, as a youth, from the depths of Ancient Blazing.

At that time, he was almost completely possessed by the Dark Lord.

Ning Changjiu and Liu Xiwuan's combined kill-strike sword allowed him to break free from the Dark Lord's control.

Then he was shot by an arrow to the bottom of the Torch Dragon's remains.

All of this seemed to follow destiny, a subtle coincidence.

This was his main body; his Outer Body was still outside, waiting for an opportunity.

He remembered...

Put your thoughts into a box.

The Outer Body was his final layer of the box!

Their minds were severed. Ke Wenzhou, as the Outer Body, finally gained the Dark Lord's recognition through repeated battles, and the Dark Lord's power poured down.

However, the Outer Body was not an independent entity; it had to share power with the main body.

The Outer Body did not feel the killing intent from behind before its death.

One can guard against a knife from behind, but not against oneself.

The one who killed him was precisely himself!

Young Ke Wenzhou stood in the void above Ancient Blazing, reminiscing about the turbulent years that had passed like wind and rain.

The Dark Lord above the Divine Realm had evidently not yet reacted, still continuously channeling power.

"Am I... the foremost swordsman under heaven?" Young Ke Wenzhou asked, looking at the white-clad youth.

"Yes," Ning Changjiu affirmed.

"That's good then," Ke Wenzhou smiled with relief.

He knew that after completing his final task today, he would surely die.

With a single thought, the sword token carried on his back suddenly flew out.

"This is for you," Ke Wenzhou said, looking at Ning Changjiu and earnestly instructing him. "From now on, you are the next Master of the Sword Pavilion. For me... please look after them well."