Chapter 601: Neither the First nor the Word

Xu Fengnian looked up at the old man.

Wang Xianzhi was far from dead, yet he bore no resentment; he simply gazed quietly at the young man before him.

It was as if the entire world had momentarily frozen.

Wang Xianzhi finally closed his eyes. The scattered energies around him coalesced into another Wang Xianzhi, who gently descended to the ground.

A gust of wind blew through, passing effortlessly through the insubstantial form of the old man.

Xu Fengnian spoke calmly, “You won.”

Two pillars, inscribed with ancient golden calligraphy, slowly descended from the west.

Clearly, this Wang Xianzhi, though his form had dissipated and his spirit remained, no longer had the strength to kill Xu Fengnian, who had also exhausted his might. However, the Heavenly Gate had opened, and Wang Xianzhi could still leave at will. Once he passed through the gate and looked down upon the mortal world as an immortal, with his usual disregard for rules, how would Xu Fengnian, with nowhere left to hide, survive?

Wang Xianzhi ignored Xu Fengnian and the two unexpected visitors entering his peripheral vision. One man halted his horse but reached out to reclaim the spear known as Chashna. Another, a youth of ambiguous gender whose beauty was striking, retrieved the twin blades, Xiu Dong and Chun Lei. The old man walked toward the Heavenly Gate but did not cross it. Instead, he stood with his hands behind his back and said with a smile, “It’s not much fun anymore.”

Wang Xianzhi turned around, gazed eastward, and said gravely, “Jiang Fuding, you’ll fight for another ten years.”

Then he shifted his gaze northward, speaking calmly, “Yu Xinlang, go to the farthest northern ice plains.”

Finally, Wang Xianzhi fixed his eyes on the young shepherd boy, who had stumbled his way to a mile away, and smiled, “It seems we have some karmic connection.”

Liu Huang, the swordsman of Wudi City, arrived too late. He gripped the hilt of his sword, Pusala, tightly, his eyes bloodshot.

Liu Huang removed the scabbard, knelt on both knees, and plunged the ancient sword into the ground beside him. He bowed deeply, his voice choked with emotion, “Disciple Liu Huang pays respects to my master.”

Wang Xianzhi finally looked at his disciple and said, “When I have completely dissipated, you need not seek revenge. Bury my remains atop Mount Kunlun.”

Liu Huang buried his face in the rough sand, saying nothing.

Wang Xianzhi did not press his disciple on his stubbornness. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the young prince, who had just won a bitter victory and now stood like a beggar who had suddenly gained great wealth and then lost it all. For the first time, Wang Xianzhi showed a faint, genuine smile and said, “They always say, ‘In martial arts, there is no second place.’ You’ve finally beaten this old man, but now there is no first place either. I feel a little pity for you.”

Xu Fengnian replied, “I still have a little strength left. It should be enough to take me to Longhu Mountain. If that’s the case, then all these years of cultivation haven’t been in vain. As for future enemies, they should be confronted on the battlefield, not in secret.”

Wang Xianzhi nodded, “A man who defeats this old man must have such magnanimity.”

As Liu Huang stood at the edge of the battlefield, Huang Sanjia and the girl known as Hehe Nü’er approached.

Huang Longshi, who had schemed against both Xu Fengnian and Wang Xianzhi, showed no sign of pride. Holding the little girl’s hand, he sneered at Wang Xianzhi, saying, “You couldn’t stop the wrath of an emperor that leaves a million corpses, so you tried to inspire future generations to rise up with the fury of common men, blood spilling three feet. But you never realized that people have their own destinies. Who asked you to meddle in such matters? In the future, the world will not be ruled by hereditary nobles. The imperial throne will rotate among men, and even commoners—merchants and laborers—will have their turn to sit upon it. The martial world will thrive not by the presence of immortals but by the spirit of chivalry. Wang Xianzhi, what’s wrong with a world where a few flying immortals are gone? The martial world will be upheld by righteousness and loyalty. Without ascension, the source of the martial world was never in the heavens to begin with, so it will not die.”

Wang Xianzhi smiled and said, “Good.”

He looked around, then drew his gaze inward, murmuring, “If that’s the case, then my staying in the martial world was not in vain.”

With a sharp cry, Wang Xianzhi’s soul split into three, and he vanished in three beams of rainbow light.

The grand Heavenly Gate gradually faded.

Wang Xianzhi neither ascended, nor reincarnated, nor clung to life. Instead, he generously left behind three blessings for the future martial world.

One flew toward Wudi City in the East Sea.

One headed toward the imperial capital, Tai’an.

The last one rushed into the young shepherd boy nearby.

Liu Huang abandoned his sword and carried his master’s lifeless body in his arms, walking slowly northward.

Huang Longshi took his daughter’s hand and walked eastward, saying, “Everything must have a beginning and an end. When I die, remember to find my daughter and take care of her.”

White Fox, having reattached the twin swords Xiu Dong and Chun Lei, approached Xu Fengnian and asked, “Are you going to Longhu Mountain?”

Xu Fengnian nodded and asked in return, “What about you?”

White Fox smiled, “I don’t have the habit of owing debts. Since you helped me kill Wang Xianzhi, I’ll try to kill Toba Pusa.”

Xu Fengnian said softly, “Don’t die.”

White Fox just smiled.

Xu Fengnian turned to Xu Yanbing and said, “Uncle Xu, could you please bring that child back? I plan to take him as my disciple.”

Xu Yanbing grunted in agreement, mounted his horse, and rode north. He soon found the frail shepherd boy, who had fainted from the unbearable pressure.

※※※

At Longhu Mountain, a Taoist priest resembling a middle-aged man was fishing by a deep pond, using a purple bamboo rod with no hook or bait.

A green leaf floated before him.

From time to time, Zhao Huangchao, the priest, would gaze at the shifting veins within the leaf or calculate the heavenly omens with his fingers. At first, everything seemed to fall within his expectations. He remained calm and composed, even when the veins in the leaf dimmed or shifted. He might furrow his brow, but he never lost his composure.

But when the leaf suddenly turned yellow and split along one vein,

Zhao Huangchao fell silent, watching helplessly as the two halves drifted onto the dark green pond water, his face turning pale.

Zhao Huangchao suddenly raised his head toward the northwest, furious, “That old bastard was this weak!”

A red beam of light crashed into the pond.

Zhao Huangchao immediately discarded his fishing rod, leapt onto the mountain, and dashed forward, hoping to cross the mountains and rush to Difei Mountain, where he had nurtured a dragon within the greatest sacred site of Taoism.

The impact of the “guest” drained half the pond’s water, as if a giant green lotus had bloomed in the heart of Longhu Mountain.

Zhao Huangchao ran across the treetops of towering ancient trees as if walking on flat ground, his Taoist robe flapping in the wind.

A great immortal soaring through the air.

But a cold killing intent suddenly wrapped around his back. Knowing something was wrong, Zhao Huangchao began forming seals with his fingers, preparing to chant the word “Formation,” which had the power to shape fate.

But from behind, a monster he had never even seen the face of grabbed his leg.

The visitor to Longhu Mountain sneered, “Go back!”

In an instant, Zhao Huangchao’s body was lifted high and then carelessly thrown back toward the pond, where the water still rippled violently.

The Taoist had no time to dissipate the force. His back slammed into the water with a thunderous crash.

The visitor was determined to finish him off, landing in the pond almost simultaneously with Zhao Huangchao and appearing beside him. With fingers like hooks, he seized the Taoist’s head and shoved it downward.

One stood, the other fell, both plunging into the depths of the pond.

In the blink of an eye, Zhao Huangchao’s head and back smashed into a protruding bluish stone at the bottom of the pond.

The stone shattered instantly!

The attacker slightly raised his arm, still gripping the Taoist’s head, and slammed it hard against the stone wall of the pond.

Zhao Huangchao was like a nail being driven into the wall.

The attacker was not yet satisfied. He pulled his fingers back, then thrust forward again and again. The Taoist’s head struck the wall repeatedly, like a bell being struck.

Over a hundred dull, horrifying bell-like sounds echoed through Longhu Mountain.

The pond water boiled and roared, then turned into a thick mist.

The water receded, revealing the pond empty and the bodies exposed.

Zhao Huangchao’s skull and spine were completely shattered. From start to finish, he didn’t even manage to utter a single word before dying beyond any hope of revival.