In the vast emptiness, a soft voice suddenly echoed: “Eternal Night has grown old. I’ve never heard that phrase before. Hmm… interesting indeed.”
In the air appeared a refined man, seated on a magnificent high-backed chair, holding in his hand a book, deep in thought. He simply sat there, as if this were nothing more than his own study at home. Positioned where he was, he hovered naturally above all the Great Lords, with not even a trace of impertinence or impropriety.
Even the Everblazing Flame paled in his presence.
Qian Ye raised his head and met the gentleman’s gaze. He heaved a sigh, saying, “So it is the Emperor of Demons. I could hardly have guessed you’d come yourself. Did your wounds from our last battle heal?”
The demon emperor smiled softly, replying, “Certainly not healed yet. The Lord of Eternal Night, Anduya, wields a power impossible to foresee and nearly unremovable. Even I require time yet for a complete mending. And yet, matters here are important enough that I simply couldn’t remain absent. When Lady Rosania refused the duty herself, personal attendance was the only course.”
Qian Ye glanced toward the sides and muttered. “It seems you don’t wish me to go easily enough.”
“Why hurry?” the Demon Emperor said, now setting down his book gently onto his knee while never averting his gentle and penetrating gaze. “An occasion rare in the extreme – would a chat not provide some enjoyment?”
“As I observe you at last,” he continued, “I comprehend at length the man whose expectations were so high and long-standing. However mighty your actions had subsequently grown to become, circumstances perpetually contrived to deny that meeting… until this hour finally allowed for it.”
Qian Ye hadn’t anticipated such a reference. Surprise tinged his words: “You… remember this name? Did you perhaps know my adoptive father?”
“Oh but I met him rarely. Yet frequency matters not. Among this world’s multitudes, few exist capable of truly comprehending me, so the rare appearance within Human folk of at least three proved… unexpectedly intriguing.”
Qian Ye narrowed upon this: “Three? Pray tell, who?”
“One is certainly Xitang; another, the bright boy – Emperour Hao himself. Yet another perhaps yourself.”
“Me?”
“At that moment when just now spoke so passionately, I looked past you—and there loomed again… Xitang’s image in full. His insight, deeper and vaster, yes. Yet he could not let go; something you have succeeded in. Suddenly I grasped at last, his reasons behind choosing as he did.”
“This man,” Qian Ye questioned, struggling to grasp, “what was there… for him not to leave behind?”
“The Human race itself,” the Emperor explained tenderly: “Yet not merely for its momentary survival… No, his sights lay beyond – upon shaping tomorrow’s pathways. Once I asked – and advised he simply abandon his meddling ways, permit humankind their natural course, watching silently as Night eternally unfolds before them. Yet his answer… always one the Same… ‘humankind must not remain confined to just their corner here, eventually rising toward a Great Dao beyond language and form — I would sacrifice myself for that purpose. Indeed I would be no better nor worse than any humble stepping platform along that destined ascent.'”
Speechless, Qian Ye now felt the silhouette of Xitang rising behind his memory, vivid despite all attempts to conceal his path. Indeed hadn’t he, through so many battles… only pursued this unseen legacy, driven instinctively?
“He carried entirely too much, you know,” the demon continued thoughtfully, now standing. “It didn’t matter if himself—or inadvertently pulling along all whom surrounded him into that stepping stone fate alongside. We’ve shared such words in days passed. Yet he always responded—’such is the way of Dao that it simply should BE – the same for all existences within it!’ Hence, those fortunate—or unfortunate perhaps—enough to claim the position titled ‘friend’ beside man such as him…”
His fingers gestured outward with an air of resigned frustration while remarking: “If I recall rightly, weren’t YOU the very one taken down by this ‘friend’?”
A nod. Yet he clarified. “I did not intend for things the way it happened. Had he remained alive, the Sanctified Peaks’ peace and order would surely suffer. Yet reflecting backward, so many times afterward… I’ve bitterly questioned whether perhaps had I been willing to strike the blow earlier myself? So many burdens thereafter prevented?”
Arising fully now in a deliberate fashion: “You may find it hard in the beginning to believe I have indeed tried relentlessly to discern what it was truly all XItangs plans and secrets… But always some instinct kept whisperings – something, something absolutely mustn’t have been done nor even succeed. To imagine entire generations of foresight practitioners under eternal night could collectively succumb before single Human soul? Ah yes… how richly absurd indeed! Perhaps some cosmic alignment always foredoomed this darkness’ descent – otherwise… how could humanity produce soul like him?”
A pause, before Qian Ye’s hushed insight: “He must’ve had someone close by. One who might understand, I think. Perhaps someone like You, your Majesty?”
A smile now bitters yet warm from imperial lips: “Strange as must be—maybe it actually happened. That man… what a friend, truly…”
Then with the shifting gravity between them again—
“I appreciate the revelations, Emperor. Yet surely we reach again the moment of hands? Time once again… for steel and shadow?”
A measured nod. From within the ether, his tome floated forth—drifting steadily towards Eternal Flame once held firmly within. The monarch straightened, locking Qian Ye in resolute observation.
“The highest gesture of respect I can bestow upon his legacy… will only follow YOUR destruction. Only in undoing all he has ever built—can I hope to honor such a peer truly.”
Qian Ye allowed himself a smirk, “I must confess. For a fleeting instant, I had been hoping for perhaps… an attempt at seduction.”
Another nod — this as the Demon raised a blade, its form gleaming and immense pulled from ethereal space itself. Yet within his calm tone, finality rang. “Truthfully, originally I was. Only for the knowledge this man has laid upon you something even he never expected? That makes impossible any deviation… for you have since become the very center upon which the fate turns.”
At the sight of weapon alone Qian Ye quivered—his eyes constricted fiercely before whispering in dread the name:
“Jing Meng?” （startling dream）
“A Queen of Night dealt the final blow personally herself; do you wonder how she escaped?”
An almost involuntary chill seized every nerve. Blood drained from his body, frozen like a winter abyss, voice barely above a ghostly tremble now:
“Lilith…”
“So everything—what I experienced—was nothing less than betrayal?”
“From that aspect. I’d agree.”
“I see. Twilight Conflict too then?”
“At first? She did not perceive. But when she knew…” a casual shrug followed. “she never voiced protest. Thus matters stood, hence the outcome.”
Still silent, contemplations deep, heart heavy with burden of knowledge. Perhaps never have been a path born with lofty ideals or grand purposes. No great ambitions consuming each breath. Just… simple longings perhaps, the desire shared by men across eras, to stand near love’s warmth and shelter friends and family within that glow.
So why… always… taken away so soon?
“You,” the other’s voice broke softly now through the gloom, “You, who are the very centerpiece to that old plan… You believe escape from that grand design was ever truly in reach?”
A long breath. Sword drawn steady but thoughts churning.
Yet hesitation hung still between clash.
The demonic Emperor asked at last:
“Then… what occupies you now, I wonder?”
Another pause. Then quiet contemplation turned outward:
“Speculatively… if Master Zi Ning found himself now in the situation that confronts me, just exactly would he have done?”
A lift to the brows upon mention of this name:
“He was but another piece set, moveable at our decision’s discretion – Not like you… Not at the heart of it.”
Fingers curled, gripping the hilt more tightly, blade crimson-laced and ancient now slowly rising—resolve forged anew.
“Well,” came a curious challenge, “does that imply you have accepted fate… or is self-destruction simply beyond your will? Will this contest conclude without you even fighting?”
Yet Qian Ye answered with unwavering eyes:
“The difference matters not whether I do die or live—I still preserve hope, though slim, she has. Whereas should I perish without striking that final defiance? Hope perishes first; the rest follows.”
An understanding glint flickered from his counterpart’s gaze:
“I perceive the essence fully.”
With a nod, his blade rising:
“My own injuries still impair. It would scarcely be even handed for me to fight one weakened… And yet, such is pre-ordained, I am bound in inevitability. Were them in my place—no force existing may hold you down… Xitang may have once told me, ‘Though born for the Dao, fate chooses our stations. We fight, simply because… this is simply how it must be.”
The younger nodded somberly:
“A truth understood… And for the fact that he eventually met his twilight within you… a simple man like me, not learned in higher philosophies as I am… feels still that… it’s my duty, to avenge him.”
“Indeed,” a slow nod and faint chuckle now emerged once again—“I admire such reasoning. In a way, glad you choose this course…” A pause. “Ah, there remains something to share — for after this… perhaps we’ll no more get chance.”
“Kindly share it.”
“The Eternal Night and the Rising Dawn are two poles upon the world’s compass… each complementing the other, neither greater nor lesser. Though Darkness rules the Ever night now, if we widen perspective to outer worlds—the Light’s rise becomes prominent… Yet beyond these stars, when we encompass all universes entire? Then both collapse into equals without distinction. Hence, not that Eternal Night is senility. Rather – it is indeed the Ascended race’s senescence.”
The young warrior lowered his head respectfully, offering deep thanks.
“And so our first meeting… must come this. Draw blood now. For only through this confrontation let’s test… is it justifiable for Xitang’s sacrifices to place his faith in one like you.”
And as the demonic monarch spoke, so did steel follow: a deliberate slow arch across air, a single cutting descent—inevitable as the falling night.
Qian Ye, with quiet determination, responded with the raising of his own blade—the Blood-Sword Azuregold.
Its weight dragged the entire cosmos behind—each inch movement agonizing under unbearable load. Then from its very tip, something stirred into being: one minute speck of encroaching void, almost imperceptible… Yet the gravity—relentlessly deep… Inescapablе!
So potent that even the other Great Lords found themselves drawn towards that dark abyss threatening existence… Yet mid-battle’s descent the blade cracked—then shattered utterly, torn away into fragments that spiraled into nothingness.
Yet, undeterred, the descending blade still advanced forward.
Never did Qian Yi expect this turn… Never… not within all battles across ages, had failure ever crept so near. With that one clash marking an unprecedented peak within his reach — a first-time manifestation… the true origin elemental – Primordial Chaos unleashed itself from the veils between dreams!
And still the fang of betrayal found place to bite, rending all he had wielded.
A bitter ironic grin played upon wounded pride:
Could not have fate been otherwise?
And with that blow… would remain no challenger… until—
Then like crashing thunder summoned anew within space eternal, came arrival of another. A hand from heaven itself interposed—seizing that fateful stroke of “Startling Dream.”
Ji Wentian had appeared.
“So the High Sovereign of Sacred Mountain himself deems it fit to clash blades with… well, forgive the term – but just a mere child?” he chided softly.
“My forebears have once walked those very same paths before… I, too, was long yearning to test this Sacred Flame against my own arts.”
And from the demon emperor—a rare expression now forming as contemplation gave away its ground to seriousness:
“Hence it shall remain so… Thus you choose now?”
A sweep forward—blade drawn with deceptive nonchalance.
Yet no less swiftly met came sword from Ji—the clash a resonant peal like nine thunderous strikes at each block, indicating the utmost level of his Mountain Shattering Art.
With movements seemingly casual and flowing — and utterly uncorrupted in their serenity — the demon moved, free from traces of demonic qi, as if the very heavens were guiding his steps instead.
This spectacle, unfolding in its enormity, drew all watching into awed stillness — including Lord Sahsa and Qianye himself. Such a duel between titans demanded a stillness in all others as they bore witness in reverence.
Then—sudden emergence.
Dianxuan King manifested mid air!
His palm sliced out, grasping with a tremendous invisible force — and seized Lord Sahsa in it unrelenting grip! Tearing free of the Great lords assembly like reaped field.
Electric and unrelenting—another hand lifted skywards. And like a roaring thunderous spring awakening within his throat:
“Let Wind rise! Let Rains descend! Let lightning strike!”
From swirling skies came streaks violent and jagged — a current of teeming life contained within! Yet, within this pulse of creation, destruction lay coiled within—surpassing even the heavens themselves as it descended with unquenchable hunger to strike…
Though but frail in appearance, its potential was nothing short of god-smashing!
Both Pakalchia and Wolf Ancestor, weakened and slow on the draw, hesitated instinctively—daunted by a move so beyond their current readiness to oppose.
It met Sahsa full — and half of his life-force extinguished in one instant of devastation—rooted immovable and powerless!
And Dianxuan’s voice boomed out towards the waiting warrior:
“Do not hesitate any longer—the moment cries for action!”
Yet in Qian Yi’s mind flashed shock at the visage turned his way now — tears streaked in rivulets of crimson from both eye sockets, a visage distorted by inner agony.
Time waits neither for friend nor foe, and without hesitation, the warrior transformed into countless crimson wires—a storm of destruction which pierced through Sahsa —only to reconvene behind into a singular figure once again standing.
Now Qian Ye, flushed and swollen in agony, stood as though something strained for release through his very pores… while Sahsa — a once mighty and titanic figure—reduced in moments’ notice down to nothing less than a desiccated corpse.
Yet no sooner did he start to speak when from Dianxuan’s figure radiated brilliant effulgence — surging with raw chaotic power tearing flesh and spirit within from the inside outward.
It was unmistakable: his TianWang crystal was ruptured, teetering ever closer to explosion!
Yet from within writhing internal torment came one steady breath—clutching pain tightly within.
“Though this day’s combat decides the fates and futures beyond the race of men,” the dying voice thundered, though hoarse and ragged: “There is not one path to retreat, nor moment for hesitation—we must embrace even the death of a World Sovereign! Thus I choose… my passing shall ignite what path there remains!”
With another sweep, another rising invocation summoned the same terrifying thunderclap toward Pakalchia.
Yet Pakachia, now stricken with fear, ran.
No fatal threat alone it truly carried—but should that lightning ensnare even moments, the decisive stroke from Death’s Embrace was assured… And against that overwhelming void—no salvation possible.
Wolf Ancestor hesitated—but seeing their companion in full rout, decided to fall back himself.
But he had miscalculated.
For at the first turn he started… another unseen force wrapped and caught… pinning him for even the briefest instant.
Shriek turned to shock when realizing only too late — the assault had not at Pakachia been aimed — but meant to seal HIM. Yet too late was any escape… For now the void of nightmare descended… A hand outstretched from Qian, the crushing darkness again glowing in his palm—
It engulfed everything, all consciousness plunging down into its abyss — timeless and infinite.
Without ever a prior moment working together before — even so these souls at zenith’s threshold needed but a spark of synchrony to achieve perfection between them.
Qian Ye left the foe he pursued for dead — now turning instead his steps toward supporting dying comrade beside. A hand extended — gentle light steadied his frame.
Dianxuan’s entire presence blazed as if alight — a brilliant infernal sun. The TianWang crystal beyond redemption—exploded, consumed now completely in blinding incandescence of Dawn power burning through his very vessel. The price had been immense — two deaths claimed among the Dark Dominion — all bought by the utter loss of himself.
Each among their Great Lords wields celestial strength, yet for him to fell such with the first strike… nigh incomprehensible. His was the blaze of final resolve… one burst so absolute it brought not only victory… but destruction to all remaining vestiges he’d ever possessed.
Through agonizing fire that tormented both body and soul… eyes barely open still—vision dim — the final words emerged — a whisper yet echoing eternity itself:
“Tell my descendants: my life’s path has been stained in smaller blemishes… But let one thing always be remembered… when greater purpose came… I faltered not. There has never — Never — been any dishonor toward The greater good.”
And upon last breath spent… Light departed, and Heaven mourned once again.
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