The cold moon flickered, waxing and waning, as the descending Heaven-Slaying Axe seemed to slow. A fissure appeared between the nine Dao patterns and the dark abyss, and even the myriad possibilities of the future silently multiplied with variables.
The surge of energy triggered an immediate explosion of purple mist. Upon closer inspection, it was an aggregation of countless thunder patterns—the pivot of yin and yang, life and death—painting the high skies of the Netherworld into a dazzling ocean, stretching into the past and flowing toward the future.
“Take this strike from Old Sun!”
A furious roar echoed as thunder perished and was reborn, flowers bloomed and withered, and the purple mist drowned the pristine, delicate hand.
**BOOM!**
The high skies of the Netherworld blazed with blinding light, leaving no other colors. Only the point of impact seemed to tear through time itself, plunging into an abyssal darkness as if returning to primordial chaos.
Petals of white lotuses and fragments of thunder drifted down one after another, each coated in invisible flames. Within them, nascent universes reached their end almost as soon as they were born. Against this backdrop, all things seemed to freeze in place.
Deep within a crimson mountain range, the Twelve Demon Saints and the Great Freedom Heavenly Sovereign were relocating the area to the depths of the Netherworld. Qi Zhengyan gazed at the spectacle above, momentarily feeling as if he had returned to the ancient days of Vulture Peak.
Who had won in that last clash?
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he saw the massive, bronze-like axe tear free from the slowly mending chaos, hurtling backward into the void beyond the Netherworld—into the divine bright moon, whose waxing and waning had just stabilized.
The Great Sage Equaling Heaven had won!
For the first time since their battle began, he had triumphed in a direct confrontation!
Gu Xiaosang’s eyes darkened with a hint of crimson, her eerie allure intensifying, though the madness, savagery, and chaos within her remained subdued for now.
Through a subtle connection, she finally grasped the situation—the Golden Emperor had been repelled for the first time. Deliberately, she ceased drawing power from Meng Qi, retracting her slender, graceful finger slightly.
Given her current realm and strength, persistently disrupting the Golden Emperor’s perfection was unrealistic. The deity would adapt, reserving strength for defense, rendering her efforts ineffective. Thus, she had to seize the right moment—only adding this variable at the critical instant, such as the moment of collision when neither side could spare attention for anything else!
Balance was key. She hadn’t lost her mind or wisdom yet… Gu Xiaosang’s black hair fluttered like silk as she closed her eyes, sensing the battle above.
After a brief lull, the moon finally reached fullness. The Plain White Cloud Flag flew out, and the Heaven-Slaying Axe was once again grasped by that pale, slender hand. It cleaved through layers of time and space, descending with a thunderous force. Darkness spread around it, a sweeping silence as if summoning all things to return and attain final liberation.
The Golden Emperor seemed to have anticipated Gu Xiaosang’s plan, attacking and defending simultaneously without reservation, aiming to end the battle in one decisive strike!
The dark, savage ape roared with wild laughter, manifesting three heads and six arms. Each head’s crown chakra opened, emitting pure light that coalesced into a crystalline Buddha-land. Within it sat a bluish-black fallen Buddha, translucent, with a third eye on its forehead—indestructible, illuminating illusions. It, too, revealed eighteen arms and twenty-four heads.
Each arm wielded a peerless blade, each embodying a different aspect of thunder—yin and yang transformations, the cycle of life and death, utmost yang and rigidity, the authority of divine punishment. Together, they struck, merging into a torrent.
The torrent condensed as it surged forward, until only a slender thread of purple lightning remained.
Silently, the purple lightning plunged into the pervasive mist, only to be struck hard by the Heaven-Slaying Axe.
At that moment, Gu Xiaosang’s eyes snapped open, her finger touching Meng Qi’s brow once more, drawing upon his frenzied, terrifying power.
Her eyes split, bleeding crimson threads. The moon beyond the Netherworld waned again—but only for an instant, a mere moment!
Yet in a battle between Nirvana-level beings, even a moment’s faltering was no small matter.
Darkness shattered, silence broke. The Heaven-Slaying Axe and the Plain White Cloud Flag were pushed out of the Netherworld by the “purple mist.” The Great Sage’s form crashed heavily onto the surface, fracturing another massive landmass. The bluish-black fallen Buddha was reduced to half, only one head and three arms remaining, flesh writhing as it rapidly regenerated.
This time, the clash ended in a draw!
Within the boundless Pure Land, the Ancient Buddha Dipankara witnessed this scene. Golden udumbara flowers around him withered instantly. “How can we deceive the Green Emperor and free you?” he blurted.
Given the battle’s progression, the Golden Emperor was restrained and unlikely to subdue the Victorious Fighting Buddha anytime soon. Meanwhile, the Nine Chaos Heavenly Venerable was on the verge of mastering the Demon Emperor’s Claw. If he didn’t act now, the opportunity would be lost forever!
As Ananda was about to speak, his gaze suddenly shifted beyond the Buddha-land. In the illusory river of time, the True Martial Emperor, enveloped in the purple light of the Primordial Yang Ruler, was rapidly regressing—reaching the moment before he severed his evil incarnation to seek a substitute for death.
But then, his figure flickered as if eroded by waves. Turning back in confusion, he saw the half-formed illusory Dao Fruit at the current node crumbling bit by bit.
The river surged violently, swallowing the True Martial Emperor’s form. The purple qi expanded and contracted but couldn’t break free from the flow of time.
“Still lacking in comprehension, yet seizing this rare chance to attempt a breakthrough with the Primordial Yang Ruler?” Ananda sneered. “Do you truly think the Nirvana realm is so easily attained? Those who rely on external aids will never succeed!”
As his words faded, black primordial waters reappeared, flooding heaven and earth. A torrential downpour ensued, and a streak of purple light shot out—but the True Martial Emperor was nowhere to be seen.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the vast starry skies of the real world, the statue of the Water Ancestor trembled violently, glowing brilliantly as if achieving perfection, filling its former gaps.
The Demon-Subduing Heavenly Venerable, the Northern Black Emperor, had failed in his Dao attainment—utterly perished. Only faint imprints remained in the river of time.
Ananda chuckled. “True Martial was born privileged, blessed by the Dao Ancestor, never lacking external aids, surpassing his peers. Who would have thought this would foster dependence? He died deservedly.”
The Nirvana realm was no easy feat.
Since ancient times, how many Heavenly Venerables and Ancient Buddhas had fallen here?
In this matter, the most crucial—the only essential—factor was oneself!
The purple qi streaked across the sky, piercing through the black waters, flying toward the Fusang Ancient Tree Domain. The Green Emperor reached out, retrieving the Primordial Yang Ruler. Two other beams of light descended, landing precisely in the ancestral hall of the True Martial Sect.
The sect’s Elder Yao Xingliu, in secluded meditation there, suddenly opened his eyes to see two immortal swords embedded before him—one adorned with a Black Tortoise shell, impossibly heavy; the other wreathed in clear light, a Flying Serpent dancing amidst profound deathly aura.
Witnessing True Martial’s failure, Dipankara was momentarily stunned but quickly refocused. Golden radiance flowed around him as he pressed again:
“How can we deceive the Green Emperor and free you?”
Ananda shook his head, his gaze mocking.
“Without True Martial’s Dao attainment to divert attention, how can I deceive the Green Emperor? Too late, my friend. Remember this in the future: **He who hesitates is lost!**”
Dipankara’s emotions visibly fluctuated, but his expression suddenly brightened as he looked back toward the Netherworld.
The moon’s cold, pristine radiance was restored to fullness. White lotuses drifted out from within, now tinged with crystalline purity and the Mahayana Buddha-light of universal salvation.
Yet as these lotuses appeared, ripples disturbed the moon’s surface—as if struck by some sinister force, struggling to stabilize. Meanwhile, Sun Wukong’s legs buckled. Clutching his head with all hands, he let out a tormented groan, screaming hoarsely:
“Master!”
Black tears streamed from his eyes, as if reliving the Journey to the West.
Dipankara exclaimed: “Golden Cicada!”
The Mother of No Birth had actually utilized the mysterious corpse once stolen from Vulture Peak by Sha Wujing—the golden body relic of the Sandalwood Merit Buddha, one of the Buddha’s means to shed karma, the Great Sage’s master and inner demon!
But it was clear she had paid a steep price.
Even the other Nirvana-level figures hadn’t foreseen her subduing this relic and harnessing its power!
Seizing the opportunity, the jade-like hand gripped the mighty Heaven-Slaying Axe once more, cleaving downward. The Netherworld’s skies parted like an ocean. Without a wielder, the Peerless Blade struggled upward, counterattacking in a boundless expanse of purple—gorgeous yet despairing.
Sensing this shift, Gu Xiaosang reached out again, touching Meng Qi’s brow. A smirk played on her lips as she whispered:
“After your wife perishes, you’ll have to dutifully mourn, won’t you?”
Abandoning restraint, she madly absorbed Meng Qi’s power and the Eastern Emperor’s flesh through the Finger of No Birth. Her own savagery and ferocity skyrocketed, as if she might any moment devolve into a mindless mass of flesh.
**CLANG!**
The moon waned yet again, repelling the Peerless Blade. With Gu Xiaosang and Meng Qi now unprotected, a small banner flew out from the Black Heavenly Emperor’s domain. Golden lotuses bloomed, countless rays of light forming an indestructible barrier.
Yang Jian, disregarding all else, endured a strike from the Black Heavenly Emperor with his Eight-Nine Arcane Art and hurled out the Central Ultimate Earthly Yellow Banner!
**BANG! BANG! BANG!**
The barrier shattered, golden lotuses withered, and the Jade Void Banner was split apart by the Heaven-Slaying Axe. Even with Gu Xiaosang’s enhanced power, it only delayed the Mother of No Birth for two or three moments—revealing the eerily beautiful yet ferocious Gu Xiaosang and the even more savage, chaotic Meng Qi.
Despair seemed imminent.
Suddenly, the Netherworld churned. Demonic qi erupted as a thunderous roar echoed:
“**GET OUT!**”
A sinister, six-fingered black hand materialized, pressing against the Heaven-Slaying Axe’s side. Corrupt energy, serpent-like, writhed to infiltrate it.
The Nine Chaos Heavenly Venerable had finally mastered the Demon Emperor’s Claw! Driven by the Netherworld’s will, it lashed out at the Golden Emperor!
Without Gu Xiaosang’s sacrifice and Yang Jian’s timely intervention, it would’ve been too late!
“**GET OUT!**”
The Demon Emperor’s Claw clamped onto the Heaven-Slaying Axe, forcing it upward, expelling it from the Netherworld. The Mahayana Buddha-light-infused lotuses transformed into blood-drenched, black-qi-twisted demonic flowers.
The dark ape finally recovered, reclaiming the Peerless Blade. His roars shook the heavens, as if demanding answers from the cosmos.
Seeing this, Gu Xiaosang abruptly ceased her absorption, gasping for air, her mind throbbing with pain.
Two or three moments more, and she would’ve become the Eastern Emperor’s puppet. Four or five, and she’d have exploded into nothingness.
Only by facing death could one seize life.
With a smirk, she reversed the Finger of No Birth, channeling Little Peach’s aura to return the absorbed power to Meng Qi.
“Darling,” she said sweetly, “one of us must stay sane. You’ll have to endure.”
Silence fell. The battle seemed over. The full moon hung beyond the Netherworld, casting serene light—as if accepting reality, making no further moves.
In the infinite Pure Land, Dipankara sighed deeply. The opportunity had come and gone.
Perhaps, as the Devil Buddha said, he had hesitated too long.
**He who hesitates is lost.**
Just as the spectators assumed it was finally over, a divine envoy in resplendent robes emerged from the moon veiling the heavens.
Bathed in pure light, his aged face was stern, exuding solemn authority.
The Herald of Decrees… Gu Xiaosang recognized each of the Twelve Divine Envoys. The crimson in her eyes faded as she silently noted his title.
The Herald’s piercing gaze fixed on Meng Qi, now reduced to primal instincts.
“Sinful Immortal Su Meng,” he intoned gravely, “the Mother knows you retain some awareness. She asks: Can you bear to forsake your loved ones? Your legacy in the real world? If you wish to spare them destruction, step out of the Netherworld yourself!”
“Yang Jian and the others will respect your choice.”
“**ROAR!**” Meng Qi, eyes filled only with savagery, seemed to understand. After a stunned pause, he unleashed a heart-wrenching howl, shaking the slowly recovering Netherworld. Muscles bulged, forming countless arms as he lunged skyward, intent on tearing the Herald apart.
But a delicate hand gripped his arm. Gu Xiaosang, serene and ethereal, gazed at him with pity.
“Where there’s life, there’s hope. As long as you live, the game isn’t over.”
Instinctively, Meng Qi halted.
The Herald watched coldly before suddenly turning toward Chang Le, proclaiming:
“Gao Lan, surrender the Human Emperor’s Sword and abdicate!”
Within the palace, Gao Lan had long risen, his bearing majestic. Hearing the Herald’s condescending decree, his expression remained unreadable.
The moment he learned of the Mother of No Birth’s premature return and the Green Emperor’s constraints, he had foreseen this. Whether Su Meng lived or died, the division of Great Zhou between the Earthly Buddha Kingdom and the Luo Sect was inevitable.
Gazing at the radiant moon and the Herald basking in borrowed authority, memories flashed—humiliation under house arrest in Chang Le, patience after achieving Dharmakaya, cold calculations in forging alliances, the regal momentum upon seizing opportunity…
But they crystallized into two scenes:
On the right, the previous Mystic Fairy perishing from backlash, Yan Ran gone forever.
On the left, cradling Yan Ran’s corpse, battling through blood and rain, sweeping through Chang Le in grief.
He sighed, a rare smile—gentle yet heroic—breaking his usual sternness.
“At heart, I’ve always been a reckless knight.”
He knew he should endure, retreat, wait for another chance. But he also knew: even surrendering the sword might not spare him. The Mother would root out threats, leaving only a sliver of hope…
So he chose recklessness once more.
His heart stirred. Suddenly, he soared, the landscapes of Great Zhou and the starry skies manifesting behind him. Golden light swirled—each speck a subject.
“If we’re brothers, we suffer together!”
With a roar, he punched skyward. The Human Emperor’s Sword had already vanished from his person.
The earth quaked. The realm trembled. Millions bowed as the power of the masses converged into a golden torrent, merging with Gao Lan’s form.
“You crave faith? Then choke on their wrath!”
Channeling the will of heaven, his body expanded, leading the torrent toward the distant moon.
His vision blurred, reverting to youthful days—unfettered, free.
With a final curse, he roared:
“**EAT SHIT, MOTHER OF NO BIRTH!**”
The moon seemed to swell, its light flooding the world. Gao Lan’s form blurred as the golden torrent darkened into vengeful mist, tainting the radiance.
A flash—then contraction. The black spots vanished. Gao Lan’s aura dissipated. The Human Emperor’s Seal fell slowly, caught by a Luo Sect envoy.
“Compared to the ancient Human Emperor, you’re far lacking…” the Mother’s indifferent voice echoed.
**CLANG!**
Golden light flashed. The Human Emperor’s Sword appeared in the Netherworld, embedded before Meng Qi, carrying Gao Lan’s final words:
“Third Brother, carry my hope to Nirvana.”
**BOOM!**
The surrounding mountains and earth exploded as Meng Qi wailed in agony. Only Gu Xiaosang’s desperate grip kept him from charging out.
The Herald’s gaze shifted to Shaolin’s Xuan Bei, then—considering Buddhist ties—moved on to the Sword Washing Pavilion.
Su Wuming’s eyes snapped open, his hand on his sword. But his disciple’s voice echoed in his ear:
“Master, let me go. Don’t implicate the sect.”
A pure sword-light erupted from a distant cave. Jiang Zhiwei, forgetting all but the sword, ascended to the Legendary realm.
Her eyes held only the Herald, memories of her companions at Shaolin, and the blossoms of her death-defying path.
No regrets—then, now, ever.
The sword-light flared, forcing the seasoned Legendary Herald into disarray. But the moon’s radiance descended, shattering the rainbow. Jiang Zhiwei perished with her blade.
In the Netherworld, Meng Qi’s howls ceased. His knees gave way, collapsing to the ground.
The Herald snorted, turning next to the Langya Ruan Clan.
A melancholic zither melody wove through the air—a love song, bittersweet. Ruan Yushu’s hands rested on the strings, her clear eyes closing as two crystalline tears fell.
Then she extinguished her true spirit. The music ended forever.
Meng Qi clutched his head, pressing his forehead to the earth—strangely quiet amidst his madness.
The Herald struck, reducing Mount Kunlun’s Jade Void Palace to rubble—yesterday’s sacred Daoist summit, now ruins.
As he sought Meng Qi’s disciples and the Heavenly Hound, divine light surged from the Fusang Ancient Tree Domain. The Green Emperor’s weary voice resounded:
“The karma is settled. Know when to stop.”
The full moon dimmed, vanishing beyond the horizon. The Herald hastily retreated to the Vacuous Hometown.
“**AHHH!**”
In the Netherworld, Meng Qi threw back his head, unleashing a cry of anguish and hatred, his face streaked with tears.
Gu Xiaosang listened quietly. When his cries subsided, she collected the Peerless Blade and the Human Emperor’s Sword. Taking his hand, she led him deeper into the Netherworld, her voice fading gently:
“The Human Emperor’s Sword can suppress the flesh, aiding your recovery.”
“Reach Nirvana, and the game begins anew.”
Their figures vanished, leaving only devastation. The first layer of the Netherworld would never recover. And in the real world—everything had changed.
The Jade Void Palace, the Immortal Monarch of Primal Chaos, the Human Emperor’s glory… all swept away by time.
Fireworks fade. Music ends.
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