“He who follows the Dao gains much aid; he who loses the Dao finds little support!”
“I am the Dao!”
Meng Qi’s voice resounded like rolling thunder within the heart of the Netherworld Emperor, shaking his primordial spirit and trembling his very soul. In his perception, the legendary terrestrial immortal Lu Da and the human immortal Su Wuming were jointly attacking the remains of the Sage of Hearts. Meanwhile, the immortal master Yun He of Shaolin Temple, relying on the Supreme Divine Talisman of Primordial Unity, had established the Myriad Phenomena Immortal Formation, firmly trapping the severely wounded Northern Pole True Dragon. Several eminent monks from Shaolin formed a Small Fetal Realm, channeling relics and Buddhist treasures while chanting compassionate sutras capable of guiding souls across the underworld. One by one, golden Sanskrit characters manifested within layers of crystalline light, flying toward the Primordial Divine Corpse, encircling it and gradually guiding its soul onward.
So many experts had gathered here, nearly half the strength of the entire martial world!
The Nether Emperor profoundly understood the meaning of being in a precarious situation, the relentless march of history’s wheels crushing all in their path, and the truth that those who uphold the Dao receive abundant support, while those who abandon it find themselves isolated!
At this moment, though the two sides seemed evenly matched in their manifested forms, the Nether Emperor felt utterly insignificant before Meng Qi. It was as if Meng Qi himself embodied the Dao—the very “wheel of history”—backed by immense power, advancing inexorably and crushing all opposition in its path.
Amidst the clash of energies, the Emperor’s aura faltered slightly, and Meng Qi instantly perceived it. Guided by the surge of power, he swung his long saber in a decisive strike.
This slash seemed like the rising of a blazing sun, illuminating the ten directions of the ghostly realm as if it were broad daylight. It melted away the aura of death and despair, its heat distorting vision, its weight bending space itself. Golden flames and flying embers surged forth, threatening to reduce the enemy to ashes.
“Take this strike!”
Meng Qi roared, his voice resonating like thunder, echoing instantly.
…
Within the Ancient Tomb Realm, the battlefield had split into four separate areas, each quite distant from the others, with only the shockwaves reaching across.
The corpse of the North Pole True Dragon had been cleaved nearly in half by Su Wuming’s legendary sword strike. Dark green dragon blood poured down like a storm, mingled with countless pitch-black, writhing corpse worms. These creatures were nearly indestructible—once they latched onto a living being, they would instantly turn it into a corpse to sustain themselves. They were Nine Nether Evil Beings, born only from the remains of cultivators who had attained the Dharmakaya level.
The Myriad Phenomena Sect, inheriting ancient traditions, had numerous ancestors who had battled the Nine Nether Evil Deities and demons, leaving behind extensive and detailed records. Facing the Northern Pole True Dragon and the Netherworld Corpse Worms, Yun He remained composed. The Primordial Unity’s Supreme Divine Talisman released chaotic-looking characters that expanded with a misty haze, like wisps of smoke enveloping the surroundings.
With a hiss, the dragon blood suddenly ignited, first the droplets suspended in midair, then those within the dragon corpse itself. The flames burned the dragon’s corpse and cooked the worms within. Initially dark green, the flames gradually turned golden yellow.
This was an immortal art that manipulated blood, taking effect without physical contact as long as the opponent had been wounded. Relying on this art and Su Wuming’s earlier efforts, Yun He was handling the situation with ease. Given enough time, he had a good chance of subduing the corpse of the Northern Pole True Dragon.
Around the innate divine corpse, golden Sanskrit characters swirled and rotated—pure and translucent, each seemingly containing a compassionate Bodhisattva seated in serene meditation. Silent and motionless, they chanted solemn and sacred sutras in overlapping voices, ultimately converging into a single vow:
“May I never attain Buddhahood until the hells are empty; may I not seek Nirvana until all sentient beings are saved!”
The Innate Divine Corpse clutched its ears and let out a pained howl. Unbeknownst to it, a large portion of its pseudo-Huangquan divine power had already dissipated. It attempted to fly toward Xuan Bei and the others, but golden “卍” characters and countless manifestations of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva continuously linked together into “talismans,” sealing it with each strike. These talismans formed chains and restraints, layer upon layer, forcing it to expend tremendous time and effort for every short advance. Even within its body, streams of black qi emerged, only to dissipate into the air.
Thus, although the innate Divine Corpse still held the upper hand due to its formidable physical form, it could not immediately shake off the influence of the *Sutra of Ksitigarbha’s Salvation*. It might take several dozen heartbeats before it could break free or reach Xuan Bei and the others.
The remains of the Sage of Hearts slowly rose from the coffin, its eyes as if containing entire worlds—blooming flowers and silent destruction, countless figures performing different actions: some in deep meditation, some gazing at the heavens, some holding scrolls, none bearing the slightest trace of humanity.
At this moment, a streak of sword light, like a rainbow from the heavens, came sweeping down in a grand and magnificent arc. Pure and dazzling, its sword intent unified, it captured the soul even before reaching its target.
Su Wuming knew that such zombies and ghosts had their greatest weakness in their intellect and spirit, so he immediately unleashed the sword art “Sword Without Self” to question the boundary between self and enemy.
Within the coffin, the Sage of Hearts looked upward with eyes filled with infinite expanse, its mouth slightly open. A sigh echoed through the void:
“The nature of mind is neither good nor evil; the movement of mind involves good and evil. Knowing good and evil is innate knowledge; doing good and removing evil is cultivating the self.”
To do good and remove evil is cultivating the self. Killing with a sword is evil and must be eliminated!
Suddenly, the surrounding space became hazy and indistinct. The Sage of Hearts had not even launched an attack, yet Su Wuming’s sword light was like a meteor entering the atmosphere, constantly rubbing and burning away, bursting into the most beautiful and brilliant radiance before vanishing into nothingness.
On a mountain peak, Han Guang’s eyes reflected a phantom river of time. Through the shattered formation, he observed the entire Ancient Tomb Realm, witnessing the scene below. He sighed deeply, “The Sage of Hearts is indeed nearly legendary, his words alone summoning manifestations of the Dao.”
Using one’s inner world of body and spirit as the source to reflect upon the external world.
If heaven and earth are at odds with oneself, then change heaven and earth!
With a single utterance, the Dao follows; every movement establishes a rule!
Normally, at the legendary realm, such reflections have limited range. But if one relies on the True Realm, one can directly establish laws for the countless universes one creates, even restarting them, just as Lu Da had done in the world of gods and demons.
The world is wrong, not me!
This is the hallmark of the legendary realm. Although the Sage of Hearts did not forge his own path like Lu Da, nor did he have the aid of the Haotian Mirror like Su Wuming to walk the most perilous and difficult path, his grotto-heaven had fully evolved, and he had approached the threshold of the legendary realm, nearly reaching it. Combined with his “Twenty-Eight Heart-School Techniques,” he could simulate similar effects.
Han Guang watched intently. Among the ancient sages, he most admired the Sage of Hearts, even imitating his attire, appearance, and demeanor.
At this moment, Lu Da’s sword light condensed inward, revealing the blade itself—simple and unadorned—as it thrust toward the Sage of Hearts. The strike was deliberate, almost sluggish, as if compelling the surrounding world to coalesce, reshaping the laws of heaven and earth. Around the Sage of Hearts, illusions wavered and shimmered, flowers blooming and withering in an instant—some dissolving into nothingness, others solidifying into reality.
A single sword strike summoned manifestations of the Dao. This was a minor world born from the True Realm, not the True Realm itself. With full effort, it could slightly alter this realm by borrowing the breath of the external heaven and earth.
Finally, the Sage of Hearts turned his gaze fully toward his enemy. He raised his right hand, forming a fist, and murmured solemnly,
“Knowing must lead to action!”
“Action is knowledge!”
The moment he saw it, he had already struck!
Striking equaled insight!
With a bang, the fist and sword met mysteriously midair, forcing Lu Da back.
Seeing this, Su Wuming’s expression remained indifferent, but his sword movements became slower, as if dragging something heavy.
With a metallic ring, his sword emitted a dragon-like roar. Sword light burst forth from every direction within a hundred miles around the Sage of Hearts, simultaneous and overlapping. Each beam of sword light split further, and in an instant, a forest and ocean of sword lights were born, surpassing even the “Ten Thousand Swords Returning to the Sect” by countless times.
Yet, the closer the sword lights approached the Sage of Hearts, the more blurred they became, as if vanishing.
At this moment, Lu Da struck again—not aiming for the Sage of Hearts, but splitting his sword into countless threads, weaving subtly into Su Wuming’s sword forest, compensating for his lack of fine control.
Mountains and rivers manifested, external energies seeped in, and the two sword lights suddenly contracted, merging into one. They transformed into a brilliant lotus of light spanning hundreds of miles.
This radiant lotus began to fold inward petal by petal, no longer blurred, instantly engulfing the Sage of Hearts in layer upon layer of light. Sword qi surged, and sword intent pierced the heavens. From within came the sound of repeated punches, gradually weakening.
The combined might of the two swords had reached this level!
Meanwhile, the Nether Emperor steadied his mind, observing Meng Qi’s strike with detachment. He extended the Brush of Life and Death forward—its black bristles tinged with white strands, and its white bristles streaked with black—forming a swirling black-and-white Taiji diagram that surged toward Meng Qi.
This Taiji diagram continuously absorbed ambient energies, the elements of earth, fire, wind, and water, and the flames and heaviness from Meng Qi’s slash. With a single rotation, it decomposed them into Yin and Yang, incorporating them as its own power, growing stronger and stronger, expanding to suppress Meng Qi!
Meng Qi remained calm. With a twist of his long saber, he blended softness and hardness, allowing Yin and Yang to flow and intertwine, life and death coexisting. He fully merged the Yin-Yang Seal with his own philosophy of “the trinity of Yin and Yang—what is the root, what is the transformation?”
The saber struck the Taiji diagram. The blade’s light reacted instinctively, with Yang countering death and Yin countering life. Both forces canceled each other out and were simultaneously annihilated.
Seizing this opportunity, Meng Qi closed in on the Nether Emperor.
Suddenly, he caught a glimmer of derisive amusement in the Nether Emperor’s crimson eyes, as if mocking him. The surroundings abruptly transformed, and a river of murky yellow water surged forth.
“I knew you had such a slash—it was all to lure you into my trap!”
“Taste the power of the Netherworld Bones!” The Emperor of the Underworld’s hatred turned into satisfaction in his heart.
At the mountain peak, Han Guang surveyed his surroundings, silently pondering whether the “Sword Madman,” He Qi, had arrived. The Donghai Sword Estate owed Su Meng a significant favor, so it was highly probable they were lying in ambush nearby, waiting to strike at opportunists. However, if the timing was right, seizing a few Huangquan bones might not be too difficult.
At that very moment, the Underworld Emperor’s gaze froze—and with it, the blood-yellow river stood still.
His massive body creaked and groaned, as if it no longer obeyed his commands.
All of this was because of the pitch-black hand bone in Meng Qi’s grasp!
“He… he can actually control me?”
“He walked into my trap willingly!”
As the Netherworld Emperor was struck with shock, Meng Qi grinned and brandished the Yellow Springs Hand Bone!
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage