Chapter 216

The age of myths was drawing to a close, and she was merely there to witness its final act, to see it end alongside everything else.

Her mood at this moment was somewhat pleasant and relaxed, yet tinged with a hint of complexity. Dao Changsheng hadn't died, but Emperor Qing and Emperor Duantian had, which profoundly affected her.

Dressed as an ancient maiden in a green robe with a long sword, she gradually descended into the mortal world, walking through quaint streets and alongside traditional landscapes.

“Without gods in the mortal realm, how will the future eras change?” she wondered, her eyes wide as she looked around. “Their cultivation speed is too slow.”

She passed through towns, encountering various martial heroes, some even sparring on city walls while countless common folk watched below. As she continued, she suddenly saw scholars from the Ru School of Alchemists in a small area. They stood on a mountainside, busily constructing an extremely rudimentary hot air balloon, cheering loudly.

“Yes, make it bigger, and it can carry us into the sky!”

“Is there truly a Celestial Realm in the sky?”

“We don’t know about a Celestial Realm, but there must be stars! We can ascend to the heavens to pluck stars, proving our capabilities as Ru School alchemists.”

“A few years ago, a meteor shower occurred, and countless people went to investigate. A great hero found a fallen star and forged it into a renowned divine weapon of the martial world—the Demon-Slaying Sword, capable of slaying demons and monsters.”

“There are malevolent spirits in the Cloud Mountain Marshes; our villagers often enter, become ensnared, and disappear without a trace. If we had supreme treasures, we wouldn’t be inferior to those martial artists! We could enter and subjugate the demons!”

She continued her journey, passing through one small town after another.

She saw martial heroes in green robes, traversing the land with their swords, exuding utmost freedom.

In the lower realms of cultivation, the spiritual cultivation lineage was now too weak, with body cultivators holding a distinct advantage.

“Only a little over 150 years have passed, and the world is already so different...” She walked across the land, feeling a faint sense of loneliness.

In this era, the most suffering fell upon the demon race.

The demon race, once comprised of all sentient beings in the world, found it nearly impossible to achieve human form in the current environment and had been completely annihilated.

Conversely, the ancient tribes fared better than the demon race. Descendants of ancient gods, they were inherently massive with strange forms, often called 'demonic monsters' by people. They occasionally entered villages to devour humans, attacked at night, and even gathered in the Cloud Mist Marshes to resist the martial heroes who sought to subjugate demons.

Meanwhile, the current Barbarian Witch tribe, towering and robust, had been driven beyond the Great Wall to herd on the grasslands, forming their own barbarian nation, which was labeled 'barbarians'.

“The other three tribes have found ways to survive, but are there truly no demons left?” She, after all, belonged to the demon lineage, sharing a kin with Qinglian. With Qinglian's death, she became the undisputed demon ancestor, and the resurgence of the demon race fell squarely on her shoulders.

Feeling somewhat lost, she continued to wander the land.

Another day, a terrifying piece of news echoed across the land: Martial God Duan Qianyu had broken through to the Violet Palace Realm. Alone with his sword, he entered the royal palace, defeated the imperial guards and all civil and military officials, and confronted the Great Zhou Emperor, demanding the abolition of laws restricting martial arts sects.

“I am a terrestrial immortal; I shall establish my own sect,” Duan Qianyu proclaimed to the world. “In ancient times, the Jianmu was the ancestral spiritual root of the world; it shattered, and fragments remained scattered across the land. I was fortunate to acquire a branch, which I cultivated into a ‘Ginseng Fruit Tree’ in my courtyard. By continuously gathering its fruits, I was able to cultivate to this level. All those in the world who are fated may come and seek me as their master!”

Within the imperial court, countless great Confucian scholars were filled with indignation.

“What arrogance, to declare oneself a god?”

“With the power of a single martial artist capable of rivaling a nation, what are we to do?”

Martial artists ran rampant, unchecked by anyone.

Meanwhile, these Confucian scholars, serving as local officials, relied on the offerings of the common people. Though they genuinely dedicated themselves to the welfare of the populace and cultivated righteously by absorbing the villagers’ incense offerings, their progress was not as rapid as the martial artists'.

After all, no matter how abundant the auras of mortals, when gathered, they were too weak, leading to slow progress.

“This truly is a sorrowful era,”

Qingteng displayed a faint calmness, continuing to stride forward. Her original intention was to see more of this world and taste all its delicious plants before she grew old and died.

One day, she passed through an impoverished village under gloomy skies. Suddenly, she felt a profound sense of something, and her conviction stirred.

A demon's aura!

“How could there still be demons in this mortal realm? Without powerful beings, there’s no abundant energy from the inner world to nourish them; living beings shouldn't have the opportunity to gain sentience anymore.”

She stopped and slowly entered a simple hut.

“I have studied diligently for three years, and I must serve the nation. Now, martial artists run rampant, disregarding the common folk, and the world suffers incessant disasters. Beyond the Southern Domain, mountains and marshes hide demons that prey on people, and in the Northern Domain, the barbarian tribes of the grasslands lie in wait, eyeing us covetously.”

A young scholar continued to read page after page of books.

Qingteng lowered her gaze, observing a small white fox beside the scholar’s desk. Its dark eyes swiveled, and it was dressed in ragged human clothes, only its head visible. It watched the scholar below, seemingly engrossed in reading alongside him, specifically the *Minor Derivation Sutra*.

The little fox suddenly twitched, then quickly emitted rudimentary sounds, speaking with urgency, “Greetings… to the… Exalted Deity.”

The scholar trembled and also turned to look at the green-robed maiden who had suddenly appeared at the doorway.

“Rain is coming, and I was passing by, so I’m just sheltering under your eaves for a while,” Qingteng said with a smile, ignoring the scholar and the little fox. She turned her head to look at a potted plant in the corner: a Jianmu.

“You are!” the scholar couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise.

“She is Qingteng, the Earth Mother. She says the sky is about to rain, and the sky is her disciple....” the potted Jianmu vine spoke softly.

Qingteng turned, sensing the familiar aura of an old acquaintance from the voice.

“Muyuancheng....”

She looked at the being before her: Dao Changsheng’s biological father, who, on the Jianmu, had founded the Kaitian Jianmu Sect and had been thoroughly beaten by Dao Changsheng in revenge for his mother, after which their relationship was completely severed.

Splash....

Suddenly, the rain poured down heavily, drumming against the eaves and causing the dilapidated house to creak incessantly.

Qingteng looked at the ancient vine, remaining silent.

“Earth Mother Qingteng, I knew you would return....” the ancient vine spoke. “I’ve been waiting, waiting for nearly a century....”

“Why are you here?”

“Back then, I was the only Celestial God not taken to the Heavenly Court,” Muyuancheng whispered in explanation. “They all knew my relationship with Emperor Dao. As a deity of the old era, I could only remain in the mortal realm with my wife and family from that time, sustaining ourselves for centuries....”

“Where are your family members now? What happened to them...”

“Humans... it was humans. They were subjugating demons, and we were constantly pursued. My wives were all of the demon race; their cultivation was too low. As they gradually aged, they could no longer endure and transformed into ordinary plants and animals. I buried them by the roadside.”

“We kept fleeing, kept fleeing, until only my daughter and I remained...”

Muyuancheng continued, “Two years ago, I was hunted by young martial heroes who were subjugating demons. I ran constantly, eventually losing my human form, with only my primordial spirit escaping. I've been waiting, waiting...”

“I was clearly on the verge of death, yet I persisted because I felt I couldn’t simply die like that...” His voice grew hoarse, and the former sect master of the secluded sacred land began to sob, whimpering, “I have atoned for the mistakes of the past throughout my entire life, repaid everything. The era of the demon race should not have ended like that....”

His voice was filled with complexity as he slowly and arduously extended a withered branch, as if beckoning the little white fox closer. “The mistakes of the fathers should not be passed down to the children. She is Dao Changsheng's sister, and she might be the last remaining demon in this world.”

“Father....” The white fox, dressed in human clothes, suddenly wept.

Qingteng looked at him. “By your lifespan, you should have died long ago. So, is that why you've persisted until now?”

“Indeed,” the extremely withered gray-black vine responded, its voice hoarse and ancient, completely devoid of emotion, as it gazed at the scenery outside the window. “I should have died long ago. Watching the green-robed heroes, the Confucian scholars, and the chaotic yet vibrant martial world, I’ve been like a madman these past years, constantly on the run, unable to stop myself from visiting many places, searching everywhere for traces of our era. But I found nothing. You all vanished, leaving only me.”

Patter!

Outside the window, a torrential rain suddenly fell.

Dripping and splashing onto the potted vine on the windowsill, the two hinged redwood windows continuously rattled with the storm.

“In this world, I am utterly alone, with no new kin left. It is truly cruel, and unimaginably lonely,” the vine’s weak voice resonated again.

Mengmei paused in astonishment.

“Actually, I am also dying,” Qingteng said, sitting on the windowsill amidst the pattering of the torrential rain, looking at the vine.

“How is that possible! Even the most ancient demon ancestor is leaving us? Does this mean the demon race is entirely confined to the mythical era of the Western Epoch... The lifespan of a Great Emperor shouldn’t end so quickly.” Muyuancheng’s voice was bitter.

“I never broke through to become a Great Emperor.”

Suddenly, Muyuancheng fell silent.

Mengmei suddenly dropped her pretense, sitting by the window in the pouring rain, and began to converse with the potted vine about anecdotes from the mythical era. Muyuancheng, in turn, spoke of his own past, striving for emperorship in his youth, and how he came to know Qing Yiran.

Back then, he had never intended to be a betrayer; he was simply pushed by time, drifting with the currents, and gradually his heart grew cold. Guided by his elders, he settled into inheriting the Kaitian Jianmu Sect and becoming its sect master.

“Perhaps I should have died long ago in this life.... But I also feel that I lived a worthwhile life. Without an 'evil person' like me, there might not have been Emperor Dao. No one would have stood up to roar at the heavens, and perhaps the current era would be different.... Eras rise and fall, gains and losses, who can truly count them?” The rain grew heavier, and Muyuancheng’s voice grew fainter, eventually fading completely. “Earth Mother... perhaps it’s not that you couldn’t break through, but that you simply didn’t care, never pursued it, and felt no fear of death....”

She trembled slightly, looking at his lifeless form, a faint sense of loneliness flickering in her heart.

“Perhaps it’s true that I didn’t exert my full effort to break through. After Dao Changsheng and Emperor Qing departed, I simply felt it didn’t matter,” she mused, as if gaining clarity. Her gaze calmly passed over the Jianmu bonsai, looking out at the rain curtain beyond the window.

Drip, drip....

Clear raindrops fell onto the windowsill, scattering clear white splashes.

“The demon race, perhaps, is truly facing its decline,”

She gave a self-deprecating smile, standing in the dim room. The vermilion windows still rattled with the storm, and the potted plant had become completely silent.

Behind her, the young scholar and the little white fox trembled, standing respectfully in place, their heads bowed.

Suddenly, Qingteng turned to look at the little white fox. “Once, I offered advice to an old man who wished to ascend to the heavens, and he suppressed the Age of Ancient Gods.... Later, a child became my disciple and became Emperor Dao, suppressing an Age of Ancestral Witches. Now... are you willing to become my disciple?”