“Where to go when all roads are blocked?”
The Heavenly Emperor’s majestic voice seemed to resonate directly within the heart of the Seven Slayers Taoist, shaking the tranquil ocean of his thoughts and trembling the innate spiritual light dwelling in the infinite heights. Overwhelmed by profound terror and despair, his fighting spirit vanished entirely. Surrounded on all sides with no way out, he contemplated laying down the sword in his hand, bowing his head, and submitting to the other in exchange for protection.
As this thought arose, the Nethersea Sword suddenly trembled. The pitch-black, unadorned blade rippled with waves of killing intent, severing the Seven Slayers Taoist’s hesitation, fear, and despair, shattering the time around him that had solidified like amber.
A fierce glint flashed in the Seven Slayers Taoist’s eyes, brimming with the purest and most primordial intent to kill. His Taoist form dissolved into light, merging with the Nethersea Evil Sword, giving rise to a dark sword radiance that sought to annihilate all things and the heavens themselves. It cleaved through time, split the long river of history, and brought about a pause in spacetime as it slashed toward the Heavenly Emperor, aiming to sever the very symbol of this epoch and destroy the foundation of all existence.
The Heavenly Emperor, hazy and distant as if separated by countless mountains and rivers, calmly extended his hand. Countless blade radiances converged, coalescing into a single ripple of light that met the dark sword radiance head-on. Both froze at the boundary between the boundless chaos and the river of time, as if crystallizing into a vivid painting.
Suddenly, the ripple of light erupted, piercing through the dark sword radiance and extending into the long-gone past, connecting the illusory rivers of time and fate. Within it, figures emerged—all past incarnations of the Seven Slayers Taoist.
The past selves he had severed with the Nethersea Sword were now forcibly “expelled” by the Heavenly Emperor in this instant, their illusory imprints made real!
The past reappeared: the Seven Slayers Taoist slumbered beyond the heavens and earth, awaiting the advent of the apocalypse and the commands of the Demon Buddha, with the Seven Slayers Stele standing before him.
Silently, the Seven Slayers Stele emitted a faint, clear glow, as if awakening some hidden imprint, and abruptly flew toward the Seven Slayers Taoist, enveloping him within.
The Heavenly Emperor had already traversed time, leaving an indelible mark within the Heavenly Emperor’s Stele—a mark that persisted even as it transformed into the Seven Slayers Stele, enduring until this sudden moment of crisis!
Dark light flickered as the Nethersea Sword reversed its path through time, shooting out from the Seven Slayers Taoist’s brow and striking the stele with a resounding clang. The stele’s glow faded, its vitality waning, and signs of decay began to appear.
At this very moment, in a past where the Seven Slayers Taoist had achieved mastery and sought to unleash a cataclysmic slaughter upon the real world, he stood bewildered, a shadow of fear crossing his face. He saw himself standing upon a palm vast enough to blot out the heavens, tiny as a speck of dust. This palm was dark and sinister, shimmering with crimson-black hues, faintly revealing inverted swastikas.
Following the palm, he saw a filthy, abyssal arm—one among twenty or thirty others, neither holding a human-skinned wooden fish nor clutching a rosary of white bones.
The owner of these arms was a terrifying demon that filled the cosmos, resembling the Fearful Bright King yet also akin to a fallen Buddha. Dozens of eyes fixed upon the Seven Slayers Taoist, brimming with cruel amusement—this was none other than the Demon Buddha who had once turned him into a puppet!
“Escape for a moment, but not for a lifetime. Submit once more!”
The Demon Buddha’s voice boomed, shaking the heavens, employing the utmost in demonic arts—intimidation, temptation, and seduction.
The Seven Slayers Taoist shuddered, his body flooded with a fear even the Nethersea Sword could not slay. He longed only to surrender, to serve humbly, to beg for life in disgrace, and to await the future.
His brow split open, and the Nethersea Sword shot forth once more, a dark radiance aimed straight at the Demon Buddha, disrupting the bewitching voice.
Yet, in doing so, the history of his confrontation with the Heavenly Emperor teetered on the brink of collapse. Meanwhile, Buddhist light descended upon both timelines, and the refrain “Lay down your blade, and attain Buddhahood instantly” echoed in the Seven Slayers Taoist’s ears.
Amitabha had not given up either—he, too, struck again!
Even against a single Ancient One, the Nethersea Sword could hold out for but a few breaths. Now facing three, there was no hope of survival. Despair and icy dread flooded the Seven Slayers Taoist’s heart. Unable to traverse the past himself, relying only on the fragmented images transmitted by the Nethersea Sword, he could scarcely grasp the details. He felt his fate entirely at the mercy of the others, left only to hope that the three Ancient Ones would restrain one another out of mutual wariness.
At this moment, in one of these histories, outside the world of the Black Mountain Old Demon…
The Seven Slayers Taoist, weariness etched into his brow and eyes, gazed at the insignificant Exterior Realm grandmaster before him, listening as the man blurted out in shock, “You—you’re the real Black Mountain Old Demon!”
He smiled faintly.
“To have the Dharmakaya slumber while a split spirit undergoes reincarnation, awaiting the great calamity—this is a fine method to prolong life. Yet he dared to seek his past life, to sever his history. Truly overestimating himself.”
“Every scheme, every plan of his lay bare before me, without a single secret. Such an end was predestined. Wouldn’t you agree?”
As the words left his lips, he suddenly noticed the tiny grandmaster opposite him wearing a serene smile. The man raised a finger and pointed, his voice ethereal yet clear:
“His fate was sealed, his end unalterable. But what of you? Are you content to accept that your own fate is likewise predestined?”
This—this was no weak grandmaster, but a figure of the Other Shore! Countless images flashed through the Seven Slayers Taoist’s mind, freezing his gaze.
Combined with the fragments relayed by the Nethersea Sword, he saw his current plight—the Buddhist light, the radiant stele, and the crimson-black inverted swastikas.
Predestined and inescapable?
Was he truly willing to accept this?
Had not this very Exterior Realm grandmaster once been a puppet to another’s whims, helpless yet ultimately breaking free, transcending the sea of suffering to attain the genuine Other Shore?
So long as a sliver of hope remained, he would never surrender!
As these thoughts raced through his mind, he saw the seemingly insignificant Meng Qi—still only at the grandmaster level—manifest a pure, perfect halo of light behind his head, illuminating his very soul. In a voice both ethereal and grand, Meng Qi spoke: “Having borrowed the aid of the Seven Slayers Stele on multiple occasions, this humble Taoist has come today to repay the debt.”
“If you enter the Jade Void Palace, you shall be a guest, neither my servant nor my puppet. Should the opportunity to ascend to the Other Shore arise in the future, I would gladly lend my aid.”
“However, your nature is steeped in slaughter. You must frequently reflect upon the Dao De Jing and temper your primordial heart.”
The Seven Slayers Taoist was stunned. He had never imagined that the Primordial Heavenly Venerable Su Meng would remember such a minor karmic debt. With no escape in sight, seeking refuge in the Jade Void Palace seemed the best option.
At that moment, Meng Qi’s smiling expression turned solemn, and he delivered a sharp rebuke: “In this era, any figure of the Other Shore may one day ally with the Demon Buddha—except for me. What further hesitation remains?”
Indeed, the Primordial Tianzun Su Meng and the Demon Buddha were locked in a life-and-death struggle, irreconcilable! The Seven Slayers Taoist’s thoughts raced, and at last, he made his decision. Bowing his head, he prostrated himself respectfully and declared, “I pay homage to the Sect Master Tianzun!”
“Excellent!” Meng Qi laughed heartily. The Supreme Ultimate Primordial Cloud manifested above his head, and with a sweep of his sleeve, he drew the Seven Slayers Taoist and the Nethersea Sword into its depths. There, his past and future possibilities were compressed and entwined by the Limitless, evading the Demon Buddha’s closing palm, the descending stele’s radiance, and Amitabha’s call to lay down the blade. Condensed into a chaotic orb, they followed Meng Qi’s true form and vanished into his sleeve.
Then, retracting the luminous halo and the chaotic auspicious clouds, Meng Qi tucked his sleeves behind his back and leisurely returned to the Jade Void Palace.
All under heaven returned to calm.
When Meng Qi next flicked his sleeve and released the Seven Slayers Taoist, his past and future once more began to be influenced by the Nethersea Sword, continuously severed and reduced to mere imprints, ensuring no other figure of the Other Shore could subtly manipulate him.
Sitting cross-legged in the Jade Pure Hall, the Seven Slayers Taoist rested his sword upon his knees. He gazed up at the statue of the Primordial Heavenly Venerable Su Meng, whose form seemed to encompass countless worlds within the dim and boundless chaos. His eyes flickered with complex emotions. Finally, he let out a deep sigh, stood up, bowed respectfully, and withdrew to a secluded chamber, where he immersed himself in studying the Dao De Jing.
……
Having failed to subdue the Seven Slayers Taoist, the Heavenly Emperor showed no dismay. Instead, he returned to the highest layer of the Nine Heavens, to the withered remains of the World Tree.
His gaze profound, he suddenly extended his right hand and slashed downward toward the celestial realm, unleashing a shimmering blade light that stirred the arcane currents of time.
The countless celestial soldiers, generals, and star officials frozen within the fragments of the celestial realm suddenly resumed the flow of their vitality, stepping out of the stilled time to be reborn, welcoming the Heavenly Emperor once more.
In this process, the lower one’s realm, the lesser the impact of the ages. But for those at the Legendary level, survival through such means was already impossible.
Legions of celestial soldiers and star officials returned, as if awakening from a slumber that had lasted from ancient times to the present, breathing life back into the desolate celestial realm. Though the third and second layers, ravaged by Meng Qi, and the battlegrounds of the Other Shore could never be restored.
As his former subordinates awakened one by one, faint glimmers flickered across the Heavenly Emperor’s form, like stars being lit one after another, forming a sea of light. From these countless faint empowerments, he refined anew the authority of old!
What was left unfinished in ancient times would be settled once and for all in the apocalypse to come!
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