Chapter 256: Three Thousand Extraordinary Lives

The old sword saint waved his wrist and pointed at the black-robed figures kneeling beneath the rubble mountain:

“You’ve often wondered how many disciples I truly have, haven’t you? These people are my disciples—exactly three thousand of them.”

“Three thousand disciples!” Wu Yi’s hands trembled.

“Among these three thousand, only one became Situ Hai.” The old sword saint wept bitterly. “These three thousand could never reach the Saint Realm, but they are not useless. They’ve been hiding, concealing themselves, just waiting for this day. Their entire strength was not for battle, but for this formation. When my power is exhausted, they will remain—each of them can sustain this barrier for a year. These three thousand disciples can seal you away for three thousand years.”

“Three thousand years?” The nine stewards’ faces turned pale; they could barely hold onto their magical treasures. “This is my finale,” the old sword saint said solemnly, uttering his final words. “Remember, my real name is Xu Youli.”

This ridiculous name brought no laughter, for the old sword saint declared proudly, “Since I began learning swordsmanship, no one has dared to utter this name.”

More than two hundred years ago, a young man named Xu Youli first grasped a sword. From that day on, his world changed completely. From that day on, the world was no longer ruled by a single Supreme God alone.

Another sword god was growing wildly.

The old sword saint’s undefeated streak for two hundred years was not only due to his strength or swordsmanship, but also his meticulous planning.

He cultivated three thousand disciples, yet only three appeared publicly. The rest remained hidden, silently waiting for this final night.

Wu Yi gazed blankly as the old sword saint closed his eyes for the last time. The man he had fought against all his life slowly dissipated into the wind. The old sword saint’s body continued to emit a long, white mist, drifting slowly in the wind, lingering without dispersing, as if it would never fade even after many years.

Even if it eventually dissipates, beneath it remain his three thousand disciples, who can still sustain the barrier for another three thousand years.

What will the world be like after three thousand years? What will become of the nine stewards? What will happen to the Elder Mountain?

Wu Yi dared not imagine, nor did he wish to. He felt an urge to cry bitterly—for having such an opponent, for having such a fate.

The man he had dreamed of killing was dead before him, but what about himself? Would he be trapped here forever?

The alarm at Elder Mountain grew louder. At this moment, the three hundred elders must have already engaged Yang Hao, and the alarm had awakened even the Earth itself.

“What do we do?” Elder Heifeng’s question startled the other eight.

Was there any solution left?

The nine looked at each other helplessly. Not far from them, the instigator had already died triumphantly, leaving them to taste this enduring bitterness.

Tiance shook his head: “This formation is the strongest I’ve ever seen. It isn’t even recorded in the Supreme God’s ancient texts. It’s the old bastard’s creation, the most astonishing creation by this mad old man.”

“What if we all attack together?” Heifeng asked.

“The counterattack would kill us all.” Tiance calculated precisely. “Even if the barrier breaks, what difference would it make? Everyone inside this barrier will already be dead.”

“Is there really no way out?” Wu Yi turned his gaze toward the distant Elder Mountain.

That mountain was no longer just a mountain; it was a symbol, the Supreme God’s divine presence throughout the universe. It represented the Supreme God’s power, legacy, and faith. Each elder on that mountain was a follower of the Supreme God, a successor of the Supreme God’s power in the universe.

Suddenly, the nine stewards felt powerless. Tears simultaneously streamed from their eyes.

How many years had passed since they last felt such weakness? Since becoming stewards, they had represented the strongest beings in the world. They could take whatever they wanted, facing no opposition. But now, were they truly at their end? They felt as helpless as aging heroes facing death, watching helplessly as Yang Hao, leading the younger generation, reduced everything left by the Supreme God to ruins.

Wu Yi wept bitterly. Since becoming the head of the Elder Council, he had led the elders across the universe, expanding their dominion. These were not for his own sake. Wu Yi knew this clearly—he only wished for the day when the Supreme God returned, he could see that everything was done for him.

Suddenly, Wu Yi felt a cold hand resting on his shoulder.

It was Elder Gui, the one who had never touched his companions before. Surprisingly, he was the first to place his hand on Wu Yi’s shoulder.

Wu Yi looked up in shock.

Elder Gui had already removed the veil that always covered his face. Beneath it was a handsome, youthful face glowing with a faint blue light.

Unfamiliar yet somehow familiar.

“I have followed the Supreme God for five hundred years,” Elder Gui’s voice was cool, yet it silenced everyone. “The newest among you joined the Elder Council a hundred years ago.” He paused, observing his companions’ changing expressions. “We’ve known each other for a century, but today we must part ways.”

“Gui!” Wu Yi frowned, gripping his hand. “What are you going to do?”

“There is a way out,” Elder Gui’s expression remained unchanged. “You don’t know, but I do. I witnessed the divine and demonic war, saw the collision of darkness and light. I know how to escape.”

“How?” Wu Yi asked eagerly but held himself back. He knew Elder Gui’s actions must have a reason.

“The old swordsman used his body as the formation’s foundation. He calculated correctly.” Elder Gui shook his head. “But his body is of light. Even his power is of light. If we can introduce a force of darkness, let it collide and fuse with his, we can neutralize this power. Without this force, the barrier will naturally collapse, and you can return to Elder Mountain and slaughter Yang Hao completely.”

“But…” Wu Yi felt something was off.

“What hesitation?” Elder Gui’s eyes widened, staring intensely. “Don’t you want to return? Elder Mountain holds our subordinates, the Supreme God’s physical body—it’s our home!”

“Why us?” Wu Yi finally understood. “What about you?”

Elder Gui showed no expression, yet others felt he was smiling: “This is a gamble, of course, one that must be wagered with life. The old swordsman used his life—I will use mine!”

Everyone understood Elder Gui’s words, but the eight stewards were shocked to the extreme: “Your life? You want to sacrifice yourself to break this formation?”

“This is the only weakness of the formation.” Elder Gui’s voice carried pride. “The old swordsman knew this, but he calculated that we wouldn’t dare to do it. He thought elders were selfish and cold-hearted. He was wrong.”

Elder Gui’s gaze swept around before finally settling on the eight younger ones. “The Supreme God established the Elder Council hundreds of years ago. Throughout the universe’s conflicts—imperial infighting, noble disputes, galactic wars—the Elder Council has never had internal strife.

We nine have lived together for a century, yet we’ve always acted as one. We’ve never had internal strife.”

“Never.” The eight stewards’ tears flowed like a broken dam.

“No matter how others see us, we are always the Supreme God’s disciples, united as one.” Elder Gui nodded. “We are willing to sacrifice ourselves for each other.”

“Hmph!” Wu Yi knelt before Elder Gui.

Elder Gui had already begun slowly walking toward the old sword saint’s still-standing body. “The Supreme God has endured a thousand years, and the Elder Council has stood for centuries because we never betray, never abandon.” Elder Gui stood silently before the old sword saint, inserting his Dragon-Slaying Nail into the rubble beside the sword. “Old man, old rival, let us merge together.”

A thick black aura emanated from Elder Gui’s body.

This was the power of life and death, the breath of life and the sorrow of death. Hundreds of years ago, when the Supreme God rescued Elder Gui from heavenly tribulation, he had never released such power. This pure essence of darkness composed Elder Gui’s very life.

It was the Supreme God who had traveled to the corners of the universe, enduring countless dangers to gather this darkness for him.

Now, he returned it all at once.

Elder Gui’s dark power was carried by the cold wind, blowing onto the old sword saint’s upright corpse. The black aura blended with the milky white mist, vanishing into nothingness.

The two forces continuously fused and dissipated, neutralizing each other, transforming into the purest void.

The barrier’s color in the sky gradually faded, becoming thinner and thinner.

The old sword saint’s three thousand disciples also died one by one in this endless void.

The eight steward elders knelt on the ground, weeping as they bowed to the dying Elder Gui.

“Master grants me strength, Master grants me ability. Master grants me strength, Master grants me ability. Master grants me strength, Master grants me ability…”

The cold wind howled, carrying this mournful chant beyond the heavens.

Meanwhile, the battle at Elder Mountain grew ever closer.