allendalepharm Chapter 18: Ascending to the summit, yet no one understands; it's not the heavens that can comp
Chapter 18: Ascending to the summit, yet no one understands; it's not the heavens that can comp
The Moonlit Blade flashed down, without any grand momentum, only a perfectly condensed arc. That arc sliced through the air, sliced through the night, sliced through the visible dragon-shaped aura that the young eunuch had gathered around him by drawing upon the earth's veins and the dynasty's fortune.
"Click—"
The soft sound of shattering glass reverberated deep within everyone's soul. The dragon-shaped phantom, symbolizing the fate of the Li Yang Kingdom, cracked open in response, then transformed into countless golden specks of light like fireflies, silently dissipating.
The young eunuch's pupils constricted sharply. He had poured out the earth's energy accumulated over hundreds of years in Tai'an City, combined with the national fortune of Liyang, and condensed it into a powerful aura that he was confident was enough to suppress a terrestrial immortal. Yet, it was so easily shattered by a single strike!
The blade's momentum continued unabated, following the trajectory of the "cut," like a hot knife slicing through solidified grease, advancing without hindrance.
"How is this possible...?!" For the first time, a look of near-dumb disbelief appeared in the young eunuch's eyes. His centuries of accumulated power, almost symbiotic with the city, was like paper before this blade of light, unable to even slow his opponent down for a moment!
However, the blade was already upon him. Giving him no time to react, the young eunuch unleashed a powerful double palm strike, his palms a fusion of crimson and dark gold—a blend of the complex national fortune he had absorbed over centuries and his own refined inner strength. The force of his palm strikes caused space to distort slightly, groaning under the immense pressure.
However, what came from the opposite side was only a single blade. A plain, unremarkable diagonal slash. There was no dazzling brilliance on the blade, only a thin, almost transparent layer of light. That light was cold and pure, as if stripped of all superfluous emotions and power attributes, leaving only the most essential meaning of "slash." The two figures finally clashed in mid-air. There was no expected clash of earth-shattering energy, no dazzling bursts of qi.
Time seemed to be compressed for a moment. Then the world lost its color. Only above the Imperial Observatory, a cold, luminous moon, not of this world, hung in the sky before flashing away.
"puff--!"
The blood-red light shone brighter than the moonlight.
Before anyone could even see what happened, they saw the young eunuch burst into a burst of blood, and his figure, which had shot into the sky like a meteor, crashed down with an even faster and more tragic manner!
"BOOM—!!!"
The ground trembled violently, and dust billowed into the sky like an angry dragon! Centered on the point of his fall, the hard, iron-like bluestone ground cracked and collapsed inch by inch in a radial pattern, instantly forming a terrifying crater with a diameter of more than ten zhang! The entire Imperial Observatory complex groaned under the weight of the storm, beams and pillars broke, tiles rained down, and nearly half of the magnificent palace collapsed, turning into a ruin filled with the aura of death.
It all happened too fast, too suddenly. Before anyone could react, the outcome was decided, swift and decisive, chillingly so.
Compared to the overwhelming and dazzling sword energy that accompanied Wu Su's forced breakthrough into the pseudo-realm of a terrestrial immortal, the clash between these two peak beings was almost rudimentary. However, everyone present with sufficient cultivation—Qi Xuanzhen, the heavily injured Liu Haoshi, Han Diaosi, and even the Qi cultivators from the Imperial Observatory—could clearly sense the terrifying power contained beneath that simple confrontation, a power capable of eclipsing the very fabric of the world.
The young eunuch's words, "In Tai'an City, the outcome is still uncertain," sounded particularly ironic at this moment. What he thought was ultimately just his own opinion. A eunuch who didn't understand the true essence of martial arts, who was unfamiliar with the subtle shifts in energy between life and death, and who only knew how to accumulate power over countless years and steal the blessings of the nation's fortune—even with nearly a thousand years of mixed cultivation, what could he do against the true pinnacle of martial arts, honed through bloodshed and death? To think he could defeat a terrestrial celestial being from the martial world in a one-on-one duel? It was utterly laughable. How could such a cunning person even know what the pinnacle of martial arts truly meant?
My desire to ascend this height is understood, but no one compres with it!
Qi Xuanzhen, sitting cross-legged on the back of the black tiger, gently brushed away the dust that had fallen on his shoulders. His gaze fell on the deep pit, then turned to the figure standing silently in the void, slowly sheathing his sword. He shook his head slightly, and the faint mockery in his eyes finally turned into an almost inaudible sigh.
"A frog in a well cannot talk about the sea, and a summer insect cannot talk about ice." He muttered to himself, his voice only audible to the black tiger beneath him and Xu Xiaowu. "Stealing the nation's fortune for hundreds of years, possessing a mountain of treasures, yet only knowing how to pile up sand and stones, not recognizing gold and jade, yet vainly hoping to contend with the pinnacle of martial arts... How pathetic, how laughable."
"The feeling of climbing to this height... it's been a long time."
Looking down at the figure below, Qi Xuanzhen felt as if he were seeing his younger self. Back then, standing at the pinnacle of martial arts, he possessed a state of mind that completely transcended ordinary people, looking down upon the world with disdain, lonely yet invincible. It wasn't something he deliberately sought, but rather a natural state, like the sun and moon traversing the heavens.
Outside the Imperial Observatory, the thunderous sound of iron hooves approached like rolling thunder, and the earth trembled under the heavy footsteps of the "Iron Pagoda" and the "Shence Army." The empire's steel torrent was about to complete its final encirclement.
However, this formidable presence, enough to intimidate any army, offered Zhao Li no sense of security whatsoever at this moment.
The Emperor of Liyang, his dragon robe now covered in dust, had lost all the domineering air he displayed when ordering the attack on Wu Su. His hair ornament was askew, and he was being desperately protected by Han Diaosi, retreating in a sorry state from the edge of the terrifying aftermath of their earlier battle to behind the layers of armored soldiers. His face was ashen, and he gripped Han Diaosi's cold arm tightly, his nails almost digging into the other's flesh. His voice was distorted and twisted with extreme fear:
"Who...who won?! Tell me quickly! Was it our ancestor who won?!"
"Your Majesty...Your Majesty..." Han Diaosi's breath was weak. The impact of the aftershocks of the battle had already injured his internal organs, and blood kept spilling from the corner of his mouth. He struggled to raise his head and looked at the center of the smoke-filled ruins, which looked as if they had been plowed by a natural disaster. His eyes were filled with disbelief, horror and bewilderment.
He didn't finish his sentence, but Zhao Li already understood.
A chilling despair instantly shot from his feet to the top of his head, freezing him completely. Even that ancestor, who had lived as long as the nation and was considered the royal family's last resort… had been defeated? Defeated so decisively…
"No...impossible..." Zhao Li's lips trembled as he muttered to himself, but the collapsed palace, the billowing dust, and Han Diaosi's pale face all ruthlessly told him the reality.
Fear instantly transformed into a frenzied will to survive and the ruthlessness of an emperor. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms, causing a stinging pain that barely maintained a sliver of reason. His eyes hardened into a savage glare: "Han Diaosi! Immediately! Protect me and rendezvous with the army! Then... issue my secret order! No, my decree! Deploy the Great Snow Dragon Cavalry into the city at once! Deploy the army besieging Western Chu and the Northern Mang border troops to aid the emperor! Together, we will annihilate this fiend! At all costs! If anyone can kill this fiend and take his head, I will grant him a hereditary royal title! He will be a member of the imperial family!"
He forced out the order through gritted teeth, unable to accept that he had fallen from the highest position to the lowest, like a stray dog. He no longer cared about imperial dignity, nor about the counterattacks of Xu Xiaoxi and Chu Beimang. As long as he could survive, as long as he could eliminate that nightmarish figure, he was willing to pay any price!
"Cough...cough cough...ha..."
At the bottom of the deep pit, as the smoke and dust dissipated, the scene inside was revealed.
The young eunuch lay at the bottom of the pit, the stone slab beneath him completely shattered and mixed with the mud. He coughed violently, each cough spitting out large clumps of thick, viscous blood with a dull golden sheen, even mixed with tiny fragments of internal organs. A gruesome knife wound stretched diagonally from his left collarbone to his right side, almost cleaving him in two. The wound was deep enough to expose the bone, yet no blood gushed out; this single cut had severed most of his life force.
The overwhelming arrogance he had displayed moments before, wielding the power of the entire city as if a god had descended upon the world, had vanished without a trace. Now, he was like a fine piece of porcelain shattered, nothing but ruin and decay. The color drained from his face, leaving it ashen, and his eyes were filled with profound bewilderment, incomprehensible confusion, and... an intense regret that was almost tangible.
"Hiss... Hah..." He gasped for breath, his lungs hissing like a broken bellows, each breath bringing excruciating pain. He turned his eyes to the figure that had been standing quietly beside him, looking down at him.
The figure was still covered in blood, yet unharmed. He carried a sword in his left hand and a knife in his right, his eyes as calm as an ancient, icy pool, utterly undisturbed.
"Can...can we...reconcile?" The young eunuch used his last strength to speak, his voice hoarse and barely audible, filled with unprecedented humility and pleading, "I...I'm willing...to pay any...price...the fate of the Li Yang Kingdom...the secret treasure...the clues to immortality...I can give them all to you..."
He didn't want to die. Centuries ago, he resolutely abandoned his manhood, castrated himself, and entered the palace, enduring inhuman loneliness and painstaking scheming, all for the sake of attaching himself to the dynasty's fortune and peeking at that sliver of hope for immortality. Now, Li Yang is about to unify the world, and the nation's fortune is like oil boiling over a raging fire. The long-awaited opportunity for immortality is right before his eyes. How could he be willing to perish like this?
Zhou Yi did not answer. He didn't even show any interest or mockery; he just kept looking at him with that terrifyingly calm gaze.
Now that things have come to this, don't you find it ridiculous?
"Heh...heh..." The young eunuch understood the meaning in that gaze, and his last shred of hope was completely extinguished. Extreme resentment, unwillingness, and the madness of his long-term plan coming to naught instantly devoured his remaining rationality.
"Zhao—Huang—Chao—!!!"
His eyes widened suddenly, the last trace of human spirit in them completely replaced by a blazing, venomous, almost soul-burning purple light! With the last of his life force, he let out a shrill roar that was inhuman, filled with endless curses and resentment!
This roar was like a signal, a signal to sacrifice everything and trigger a final act of mutual destruction!
Almost at the same instant his roar tore through the air—
"BOOM!!!"
High above, the winds and clouds suddenly shifted! The night sky, which had been disturbed by the aftershocks of the battle, was suddenly "smoothed out" by an even greater, more majestic, and purer force, and then gathered together!
Without any warning, a bolt of Purple Heaven Divine Lightning, as thick as a pillar supporting the sky and so dazzling that it instantly illuminated the entire city of Tai'an as if it were daytime, tore through the barriers of space and time and crashed down from the unknowable and unpredictable heavens!
This bolt of lightning was pure purple in color, and what rolled within it were not the silvery branches of ordinary lightning, but countless fine and mysterious pale golden Dao patterns! It carried with it the majestic power of heaven, and contained incomparably pure Daoist celestial energy and a vast and boundless, yet nearly exhausted, national fortune of Li Yang!
Thousands of miles away, on Longhu Mountain, lies the secret Dragon Pool.
Zhao Huangchao and Zhao Xuansu sat facing each other, both emaciated, their faces ashen, and pale golden blood imbued with dragon energy seeping from their seven orifices, dripping onto the withered and ash remains of the nine golden lotuses of fortune before them. The pale golden dragon energy that had once been connected to the fate of the Li Yang Kingdom and lingered around Zhao Huangchao had now completely dissipated, as if utterly drained by an invisible hand. He collapsed to the ground, his breath faint, his life force waning.
Zhao Xuansu was slightly better off, but she had paid a heavy price. Her once youthful appearance with white hair was gone, replaced by deep wrinkles, and her life force rapidly declined. The two of them, working together, sacrificed the complete withering of the nine "Longevity Lotuses" that had been passed down for a thousand years and were the foundation of the Daoist tradition at Longhu Mountain, and further offered the Li Yang Dragon Qi embodied in Zhao Huangchao, to barely manage to mobilize the "Power of Heaven and Man," traversing thousands of miles to unleash a fatal blow—the Ninefold Purple Heavenly Thunder!
Tai'an City, the ruins of the Imperial Observatory.
That terrifying purple lightning pillar, stretching from the sky to the earth, completely engulfed the deep pit and the surrounding area of several dozen feet with an annihilating force! The intense lightning flooded everyone's vision, the deafening thunder made the earth tremble, and the destructive energy fluctuations swept outwards like a tsunami, further destroying the already dilapidated buildings!
Xu Xiao held Wu Su, whose breath was growing weaker and weaker, tightly. Even under the protection of the sword formation set up by Qi Xuanzhen, he could still feel the terrifying power of the heavens. He stared dumbfounded at the destructive lightning, and a thought that was almost desperate arose in his mind: Can human power... really resist such heavenly power?
Qi Xuanzhen frowned slightly, his fingers gently stroking the neck of the black tiger beneath him. The black tiger let out a low growl, its body radiating a faint, clear light, protecting Xu Xiao and his wife even more tightly. He looked intently at the center of the lightning, lost in thought.
On the periphery, Liu Haoshi, who had retreated to a safe distance, stared in horror at the lightning pillar that seemed to be about to destroy everything. A sliver of hope arose in his heart: "Such divine might... surely... he should be dead, right?" He himself did not realize that his voice was trembling slightly.
I don't know how much time passed, maybe only a few breaths, but it felt like centuries.
The intense lightning that illuminated the entire city finally began to slowly dissipate and recede.
Amidst the billowing smoke and the crackling residual electric arcs, the crater gradually came into focus.
The young eunuch lay face up at the bottom of the pit, barely breathing. His heart was pierced by the long, narrow, curved blade, pinning him firmly to the broken ground. Fine, lingering purple electric currents crackled softly across the blade, reflecting on his horrified and resentful face.
Beside him, the blood-soaked figure still stood ramrod straight.
He lowered his head slightly, his long hair was somewhat disheveled, with scorched and curly ends visible at the ends. His already tattered clothes were now even more ragged, and on his exposed skin, there were some fine burn marks, as well as wisps of residual electric arcs that leaped like small snakes and were rapidly fading away.
But he stood firm. His left hand gripped the longsword, which had been baptized by lightning and was now jet black, its blade still wreathed in the lingering shockwaves of the thunder. The sword's edge pointed straight to the sky.
His gaze swept over the young eunuch at the bottom of the pit, then he raised his right hand and grasped the hilt of the knife that had nailed the young eunuch to the ground.
With a flick of his wrist.
"laugh--"
The curved blade was pulled out cleanly and neatly, bringing with it a few strands of dark golden blood that had already congealed.
Then, with a swift movement, the knife fell.
The young eunuch's head was severed from his body and rolled to the side, his final expression frozen in time.
After doing all this, Zhou Yi finally raised his head. His gaze seemed unfocused, yet it also seemed to pierce through the swirling smoke and ruins before him, through the thick night, looking far and wide, precisely, towards the direction of Longhu Mountain, thousands of miles away.
Then he spoke. A calm voice, yet seemingly carrying the lingering echo of thunder, reverberated clearly above the desolate ruins of the Imperial Observatory, through the broken streets and alleys of Tai'an City, and even reached the ears of the armored soldiers standing guard outside the city, as well as the people of the martial arts world from the Nine Kingdoms.
"Even with the full strength of the nation and numerous deadly traps, they still cannot defeat me."
"With this... ethereal, fleeting, borrowed fortune... you think you can kill me?!"
Before he finished speaking, he casually swung his right-hand curved blade upwards.
There was no earth-shattering blade light, only a sharp aura, condensed to the point of being almost invisible, soaring into the sky.
"Sizzle—!"
The thick, dark clouds that shrouded Tai'an City were like the finest silk being sliced open by a peerless blade, leaving a gaping hole! The clouds rolled and dispersed to both sides, revealing a clear, bright moon. Its silvery light shone down without obstruction, illuminating the ravaged imperial city below and his solitary, blood-soaked figure.
He slowly rose into the air, hovering before the bright moon, his shadow stretching long and solitary in the moonlight. His chest rose and fell slightly, as if he were about to pour out all the grief and indignation he had suppressed for seven days in Nanxun, the killing intent that had accumulated during his thousand-mile raid, the fighting spirit that had just boiled under the lightning tribulation, and his deep-seated hatred for the Zhao family of Liyang.
He addressed the city beneath his feet, a symbol of the authority of Li Yang, the observers within its walls, both overt and covert, the people of the nine kingdoms outside, and the entire world, and uttered a cry that shook the heavens:
"Today, I will slaughter the entire Zhao clan of Liyang and extinguish the destiny of the Liyang nation!"
The roar surged like a tidal wave, sweeping across the land. He pointed his blade at the sky, then slashed it down sharply, aiming at the direction where the lights shone brightest and were also the deepest hidden. Every word he uttered was filled with a resolute and maddening force, like metal clashing against stone.
"Who dares to stop me?!"
"Come!"
"Come and kill me—!!"
A deafening roar tore through the sky:
"Come and kill me!!!"
"roar--!!!"
As if in response to his earth-shattering declaration and contempt, above Tai'an City, the ethereal image of the Li Yang national destiny—a phantom dragon with a single horn, nascent scales and claws, a body as massive as a mountain, and shimmering with pale golden light—suddenly appeared! It seemed to have endured unspeakable trauma and excruciating pain, letting out a mournful howl that transcended hearing, directly shaking the very souls of all who sensed it, filled with endless agony, rage, and despair!
Immediately afterwards, in the minds of countless people—
On the ruins of the Imperial Observatory, Qi Xuanzhen sat cross-legged on a black tiger, his face a complex mix of emotions; Zhao Li, heavily guarded by armored soldiers, looked ashen-faced; Han Diaosi, blood trickling from his lips, his breath weak and feeble; Wu Su, held in Xu Xiao's arms, barely breathing; Zhang Julu, who suddenly flung open the window of his cabinet office, gazing at the imperial city, his pen snapping with a "crack"; Yuan Benxi, silently sighing in the shadows, seemingly aging ten years in an instant; and Yang Taisui, slumped in his residence, trembling with his eyes closed, his prayer beads scattered on the floor…
Outside Tai'an City, Wang Xianzhi stands with his hands behind his back atop a mountain peak, his clothes fluttering, his gaze as piercing as the sun; beside him, Huang Longshi drinks alone, shakes his head upon hearing this, and whispers, "When fortune smiles, heaven and earth lend their strength; when fortune turns, even heroes are powerless"; Li Chungang's sword aura ripples slightly before returning to silence; Sui Xiegu, gnawing on a lamb leg, mutters "What a boastful tone"; the Qilin Zhenren, his Taoist robe fluttering; Zhang Jia Shengren, suddenly looking up from a bamboo building in Shangyin Academy; Wang Chonglou; Qi Yanglong, setting down his books deep within the academy; the blind old Qin master of Southern Tang, watching Southern Tang's revenge; the monk Longshu, twirling prayer beads, softly chanting Buddhist mantras; Qi Lianhua, sword at his side, standing atop a mountain; Huyan Daguan of Northern Mang; Tuoba Pusa, wiping his battle sword; Xuanyuan Dapan…
All these top figures of the time, and those in the martial arts world both inside and outside the city, at that very moment, clearly "saw" or "perceived" that the pale golden dragon phantom, representing the foundation of the Li Yang Dynasty and the accumulation of six generations, suddenly developed countless dense, dark, and deep spiderweb-like cracks all over its body!
Then, in an even louder lament, seemingly originating from heaven and earth themselves—
It collapsed with a bang!
Thousands of miles away, on Longhu Mountain, beside a withered lotus pond.
"puff--!!!"
Zhao Huangchao, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, shuddered violently as if struck by a heavy blow! His already withered face instantly became even more ashen and lifeless at a visible speed, his skin clinging tightly to his bones like a dried corpse. He spat out three mouthfuls of his vital essence blood in succession, which was no longer pale gold, but mixed with fragments of internal organs and a deathly aura as black as ink.
His aura plummeted like an avalanche, revealing the full extent of the signs of decay in a celestial being. The light in his eyes quickly dimmed, leaving only endless emptiness and disbelief.
He schemed his entire life, laying out far-reaching plans, manipulating events from behind the scenes, even going so far as to collude with a tiger, tacitly allowing it to steal the nation's fortune to maintain a certain balance... Everything he did was for the eternal stability of the Zhao dynasty, for Liyang to successfully annex the eight kingdoms and achieve an unprecedented golden age, and for himself to find that elusive chance of immortality in the midst of the nation's prosperity.
But I never expected it to end like this.
With the full strength of the nation, a net of heaven and earth was laid, mobilizing all available forces from the imperial court and the martial arts world, even at the cost of sacrificing the accumulated fortune of Longhu Mountain over a thousand years and a portion of the Li Yang Dragon Qi, to unleash this deadly punishment that gathers the Heavenly Gang of the Taoist sect and the remaining national fortune...
Despite all efforts, they were unable to harm that person in the slightest!
It seems they haven't even managed to damage the root cause!
This gap transcends the realm of strategy; it is an insurmountable, despair-inducing chasm in terms of moral character.
On his deathbed, Zhao Huangchao used his last ounce of strength to barely raise his withered hand, pointing towards Tai'an City, or perhaps towards the ethereal, distant sky. His cloudy eyes were wide open, filled with resentment, bitterness, and a deeper despair born from knowing his fate.
A hoarse, broken roar, yet imbued with a lifetime of hatred and incomprehension, like the mournful cry of a dying beast, shook the silent night sky of Longhu Mountain one last time:
"I hate it... ah!!!"
"The legacy of six generations... the planning of three hundred years..."
"Heavens...you want to kill me and take me away from the sun...ah!!!"
The roar abruptly stopped.
His arm hung limply at his sides.
The oldest and most hidden ancestor of the Zhao clan of Liyang, his body quickly grew cold and stiff, and his last glimmer of life, like a candle in the wind, was completely extinguished.
Longhu Mountain, a blessed land for a thousand years, has seen its golden lotus of fortune wither away.
In Tai'an City, Zhao Li, who had just joined up with the elite "Iron Pagoda" and "Shence Army" forces that had surged into the city, was surrounded by a dense array of heavily armored warriors in the center, like an iron barrel.
He was about to forcefully suppress his fear and order the entire army to launch a full-scale attack on the ruins of the Imperial Observatory at all costs, even if it meant using human lives to crush that madman—
Suddenly!
An unprecedented, excruciating pain shot through my heart, as if it were being ripped out!
"puff--!"
Without warning, he felt a sweet taste in his throat, and a large mouthful of hot, pale golden blood gushed out uncontrollably, splattering all over the cold breastplate of an Ironclad general in front of him!
"Your Majesty!" The surrounding generals and Han Diaosi were shocked.
Zhao Li seemed not to hear, his face instantly turning deathly pale. A bone-deep weakness and cold swept over him, making him almost unable to stand. He clearly felt that something that had been subtly accompanying him since his ascension to the throne, granting him supreme authority, making his words lawful, and inspiring awe in all beings, was rapidly and irreversibly leaving him!
The invisible "dragon aura" that represented the emperor's status dissipated.
That sense of shared destiny with the dynasty, of rising and falling together, also became blurred and severed.
Instead, there was an unprecedented "frivolity" and "emptiness," as if he had suddenly fallen from the highest heavens to the mortal world and become an ordinary, fragile mortal.
He subconsciously looked up at the desolate ruins of the Imperial Observatory, then gazed blankly at the southern night sky where Longhu Mountain was located.
The last trace of imperial majesty, ruthlessness, and even the mad hope in his eyes was finally extinguished completely.
All that remained was boundless, chilling fear and despair, the imminent collapse of the imperial empire.
He knew that some things had changed forever.
Liyang... the Zhao family... is finished!
Zhao Li watched as the figure who had caused all of this slowly emerged from the ruins and dust, sword in hand, his icy gaze sweeping over the last line of defense made of steel, flesh, and fear.
......
Later records state that an unnamed swordsman from the Southern Tang Dynasty single-handedly stormed Tai'an at night. He single-handedly challenged an entire nation. He beheaded Zhao Li and destroyed Liyang; apart from Qi Xuanzhen of Longhu Mountain, no one dared to stop him. The two then fought atop Tai'an city walls, where Qi Xuanzhen was impaled by swords and spears outside the Heavenly Gate.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
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