Chapter 72: Towards the Morning Sun (Part 2)

Fantasy Novel: Volume One - Secret Technique "Three Autumn Leaves"By I Eat Tomatoes

Meng Chuan's brush descended, and right in the center of the painting, he used thick ink to depict the 'world entrance.' Monsters were densely pouring out from this entrance, spreading in all directions.

He painted slowly, only sketching a rough, shadowy outline.

Then, he focused on one of the monsters spreading furthest, a mantis demon. He painted this mantis demon with incredible detail, as it was the one that left the deepest impression on him when he was chased by monsters at six years old.

While Meng Chuan was painting, the translucent figure in the space between his eyebrows began to emit a spiritual glow again. This was only the second time the translucent figure in his mind had changed since he completed "Faces of Sentient Beings" years ago.

Meng Chuan was immersed in his painting, primarily depicting the mantis demon and the family of three it was chasing.

Meng Chuan meticulously painted just this single scene for over two hours, and it was merely a corner of the enormous painting.

Only when he stopped painting did Meng Chuan notice the change in the space between his eyebrows.

"The figure in the space between my eyebrows... it actually glows faintly?" Meng Chuan wondered, surprised, but the spiritual glow gradually faded.

"The appearance of this space between my eyebrows is truly related to my painting," Meng Chuan thought, astonished. When he was sixteen, he painted "Faces of Sentient Beings," which was his most masterful work in years. The very night he finished it, he discovered the space between his eyebrows and gained soul power. Yet, at the time, he wasn't entirely sure it was connected to painting.

He feared it was just a coincidence.

However, this time, the intense emotions he felt while painting were no less than when he created "Faces of Sentient Beings." The glowing of the figure in his eyebrow space confirmed his suspicion.

It was related to painting!

"I've never heard of painting generating mysterious soul power?" Meng Chuan pondered in confusion for a long time but couldn't figure it out. "Never mind," he thought. "Once I enter Yuanchu Mountain, I must investigate this thoroughly."

At least for now, soul power seemed very helpful to him.

From that day on, Meng Chuan completely poured the intense emotions in his heart into his painting. This work also took a very long time, with him dedicating at least an hour, sometimes two or three, each day.

After more than six months, Meng Chuan finally completed it.

This was a series of paintings, divided into three parts.

The first painting measured one *zhang* and six *chi* in length.

In the center of the scroll was the world entrance, from which dense throngs of monsters emerged, spreading in all directions.

Monsters pursued their victims everywhere.

There were scenes of parents attempting to protect their children, only to be pierced through by the monsters' sharp tails.

Scenes of corpses strewn across the ground.

Children stood crying, while elders bravely confronted monsters.

A father ran desperately with his child on his back, while the mother wielded a sword to fend off the monsters.

Meng Chuan painted a total of thirty-eight different scenes, clearly depicting monsters and people in each. These were all scenes he had personally experienced or witnessed. With each stroke, the 'flame' in his heart burned even hotter.

Further out.

Slightly further from the monsters, the disciples of the Daoist academy, street vendors, and ordinary pedestrians were all in a state of panic.

At the outermost edge.

YuYang Palace was depicted, where three Divine Demon experts stood ready, poised for battle.

And various other locations.

Inside the Daoist academy, the weaker disciples had all entered the underground tunnels, while the stronger ones, with resolute or anxious expressions, watched the distant monsters. These youths, led by the dean and instructors, alongside some retired adults, prepared to meet the enemy together.

In ordinary residences, bustling places like taverns, and Divine Demon clans—without exception—women, children, the elderly, and the weak were all lining up to enter the underground tunnels.

Meanwhile, those of formidable strength, regardless of gender, age, or youth, all stood shoulder to shoulder to face the battle.

The sun in the painting had just begun to peek over the horizon, clearly indicating the demon invasion occurred in the early morning.

This was just the first painting.

The second painting measured one *zhang* and eight *chi* in length.

It was much more brutal and bloody.

The central area of the painting, invaded by monsters, was covered in corpses of men, women, old, and young, including some youths wearing the robes of the Daoist academy.

But in all directions, battles raged everywhere.

One human warrior held a shield against a monster, while another human warrior fired arrows from a distance.

One human's abdomen was pierced, yet he still clung tightly to the monster. Another companion then sliced open the monster's head with a saber.

Some humans set traps, successfully killing monsters, yet other monsters charged in nearby.

Fathers and sons fought monsters together.

Disabled veterans battled monsters.

All these brutal scenes Meng Chuan had witnessed firsthand, common occurrences during the demon invasion of Dongning Prefecture. He simply depicted each of these memories: the desperation in the eyes of those who perished with the monsters, companions enduring pain yet continuing to fight...

"What were they fighting so desperately for?" Meng Chuan had once been perplexed.

But as he painted,

As he depicted each living person, he understood.

They fought for hope.

For the loved ones they cherished most, for hope, and to still see the sun rise.

They had to fight to carve out a path to survival for their families.

The Daoist academy was also fighting desperately. The demon race had stormed into Lieyang Fortress, and veteran soldiers, ordinary soldiers, and very young youths were desperately resisting. They used their lives to build a wall, protecting their weaker juniors and apprentices hiding in the tunnels.

The Divine Demon clans were also fighting fiercely, with elders charging to the forefront to resist the monsters, and younger generations and youths also battling fiercely. A bald old man charged to the very front, his chest already pierced by a tentacle, yet he still cleaved a monster to death with a single strike.

YuYang Palace was also fighting desperately; one Divine Demon had already fallen, a female Divine Demon was struggling to hold on, and only one male Divine Demon was still fighting, battling four demon kings.

They had only one Divine Demon left with sufficient combat power, yet they continued to fight.

Also for hope.

The sun in this painting had risen a bit higher, climbing higher.

Battles raged everywhere across the entire painting, and Meng Chuan spent three months painting this one.

The third painting measured one *zhang* and six *chi* in length.

The entire battlefield situation reversed; people from all directions began to attack the monsters, and the monsters began to flee in panic.

All the monsters were fleeing.

They too felt fear and disgrace, and one by one, they were cut down.

They frantically rushed towards the central 'world entrance,' their origin, and now their escape route.

And further out.

At YuYang Palace, a sword light descended from the sky, striking down a demon king, while the other demon kings fled in disarray.

Inside the Daoist academy, everyone was treating their heavily wounded companions, both adults and youths among the severely injured.

At the same time, there were those who had fallen in battle—men, women, old, and young, all perished. Some were still very young, some beautiful, some very old, but each one had fallen. Many people wept beside them.

In various places.

Ordinary residences, taverns and teahouses, Divine Demon clans, and other places all began treating the wounded and collecting the bodies of the fallen.

Although they had won the battle, the entire painting conveyed no joy, but rather a strong, even more intense, fighting spirit! Heroes had died, but those who lived would continue to press forward, and continue to fight, without ever stopping.

In the east of the city, the sun had risen even higher.

The colors of the entire painting also grew brighter, as if illuminated by the sun.

Meng Chuan remained silent for a long time after finishing the paintings before finally writing four characters on the last one: 'Toward the Sun.' He had not titled the first or second paintings.