As the purple lightning surged like a celestial dragon piercing through the heavens and earth, the wind and snow were drawn along, cascading in torrents. Soon, Deng Tai’a’s left shoulder was covered in snow, while the right remained lighter. He brushed his shoulders lightly, asking curiously, “Is that true dragon so weak? People often say, ‘It matters not how high the mountain, so long as there is an immortal it becomes renowned; it matters not how deep the water, so long as there is a dragon it becomes spiritual.’ Though I do not know the might of a dragon, I dare say any land-bound Immortal would suffer grave injury but not perish from such a strike. That true dragon, born from devouring countless blessings of the mortal world, should not be so feeble after making such a commotion. Could there be something strange at play here?”
Tan Tai Pingjing gazed silently at the prostrate dragon and python in the distance, her expression complex. Her fingers, hidden within her white sleeves, trembled subtly. Shaking her head, she replied, “A dragon can grow vast or shrink small, can vanish into shadows or appear in brilliance. The severity of its injuries can be judged by its physical form—the more grievous the wound, the smaller it becomes. As for whether it has perished, one must observe whether it has exhaled its concentrated pearl of essence before death, retreating into the abyss to await rebirth. Even if its head is severed, it may still transform from visible to invisible. Now, even if the Northern March dragon’s head is severed, as long as it has not spat forth its pearl…”
Deng Tai’a, unable to brush all the snow from his shoulders, simply raised a hand and flicked his wrist. The swirling snowflakes, as though meeting a roaring furnace, melted entirely at a distance of several zhang from him. Normally, Deng Tai’a would never indulge in such an unnecessary gesture, but witnessing this battle had clearly unsettled even him—the famed Taoist Sword Sage of the Peach Blossom Sect. After dispelling the annoying snowfall, he seemed to notice his own unusual behavior and chuckled softly, “What light and shadow—Deng is but a coarse man.”
Tan Tai Pingjing patiently explained, “Go has nine levels of mastery, and these apply similarly to dragons. The final four, from lowest to highest, are: Concrete Form, Penetrating Shadows, Reflecting Seat, and Entering the Divine. Earlier, the true dragon was bound by the heavenly Dao contained within the Moonwell Heaven Mirror, temporarily falling from Entering the Divine to Concrete Form. Even after it stole one and a half bolts of the purple lightning from the heavenly tribulation, it only rose to Reflecting Seat, like a Go master sitting high and facing an opponent. Thus arose the confrontation between dragon and python. The white python gained the upper hand with Xu Fengnian’s aid. Otherwise, in a typical contest between python and dragon, even a thousand-zhang giant python from a great river would struggle to defeat a ten-zhang juvenile dragon newly emerged into the Concrete Form.”
She sighed, adding, “Even a centipede does not stiffen at death—how much more so a true dragon aligned with the Dao of Heaven?”
Deng Tai’a glanced sideways at the tall woman beside him, her white sleeves fluttering like the wings of a white phoenix amidst the snowstorm. He said with a helpless tone, “You speak more and more obscurely. Still, I’ve managed to grasp the hidden meaning. If I understand correctly, you mean the dragon still has strength left to fight? The dragon is cunning, but that young man is no slouch either. Using the Thunder Pool to bloom a violet-gold lotus, now both are exhausted, with no outside aid left. What else can they do but glare at each other?”
Tan Tai Pingjing remained silent, her fingers gripping the edges of her sleeves tightly.
Deng Tai’a muttered, “It all depends on whether Xu Longxiang can withstand the final heavenly thunder. If he cannot, Xu Fengnian will step in. That Northern March dragon will surely seize the opportunity to rise and strike. Moreover, the Northern March cultivators are no pushovers—they must have hidden tricks besides offering the dragon.”
Tan Tai Pingjing asked, “So you’ll just stand by and watch?”
“Stand by and watch? That phrase fits rather well.” Deng Tai’a faced the Grandmaster of the Guanyin Sect, who had led her entire sect to the northwest border, and laughed. “Let the heavenly tribulation unfold as it will, let the Xu brothers do as they will, even the dragon and the Northern March cultivators—Deng cares not. Let both sides compete in cultivation, each accepting their fate. But if someone seeks to reap the rewards like a fishing old man, then they must ask if Deng Tai’a will allow it.”
Tan Tai Pingjing’s expression remained calm as she asked, “What do you mean by that?”
Deng Tai’a turned his gaze toward the distant battlefield, “After the dragon and python exhaust each other, collecting their unique talismans would bring great merit. On a battlefield, such merit would rival the conquest of a nation by a general. Master Tan Tai, tell me, if your cultivators sought a reward from Heaven, could they elevate even their hounds and chickens to immortality?”
Tan Tai Pingjing’s expression subtly shifted.
Deng Tai’a, paying no heed to her reaction, crossed his arms and gazed toward the clouds above, coldly remarking, “In the past, Deng Tai’a sought only to ascend the heights of sword cultivation. But now, I am thoroughly weary of these lofty intrigues—endless entanglements, messy and inescapable, with everyone a puppet on strings.”
He snorted loudly, “The Wu Clan Sword Tomb holds over a hundred thousand buried swords, yet Deng Tai’a took none. To this day, I have never carried a sword.”
Tan Tai Pingjing, usually serene and uninvolved, showed no retreat, for once confronting him head-on, “Is that a threat?”
Deng Tai’a laughed heartily, “Do you even deserve to be threatened?”
Tan Tai Pingjing’s chest heaved, clearly furious, but she said nothing.
The violet-gold lotus blooming in the Thunder Pool gradually withered. The snow-white python, having risen to Reflecting Seat, lost its support, its aura dispersing, nearing death. It exchanged one last glance with Xu Fengnian before closing its eyes.
Xu Fengnian, standing with a knife tucked under his arm and leaning against the python’s head, fixed his gaze on the massive dragon’s head before him. “Still pretending to be dead? Show a little more of the might befitting a true dragon.”
The golden eyes of the dragon’s head remained lifeless, but at Xu Fengnian’s words, its twin whiskers began to sway.
Seeing that the dragon had finally ceased feigning weakness, Xu Fengnian’s gaze shifted slightly upward, staring at the seemingly empty air. He pierced the veil of mystery with a single sentence, “If I’m not mistaken, you’re waiting for the Northern March cultivators from the Western Capital to sacrifice over a hundred lives to ‘paint the eyes’ and bring you back to life, aren’t you?”
The dragon’s eyes remained dull, but its whiskers swayed like twin lotus blossoms in the wind, stirring ripples of mysterious patterns in the air.
Xu Fengnian smiled, “Whether you or I live or die matters little. There’s always some cultivator ready to play the part of the fishing old man, waiting to seize the opportunity. Before you reach the Divine, she can use the Moonwell Heaven Mirror to subdue and seal you. Do you accept that?”
The whiskers swayed, the ripples stirred, and a voice, solemn and filled with scorn, emerged from the heavens.
“Ants!”
At the sound, Xu Fengnian’s heart thundered like a drum, his chest torn open, yet his expression remained calm. Even finding the energy to lift his arm, he casually wiped blood from his face, laughing, “Ants climbing a tree boast of a mighty empire; mayflies striking at trees claim it’s easy. I’ve heard those words before. You dragons, born of fate, and those high-ranking Celestials above, all see the world as a well-bottom view. The lives and fates of mortals are but fish on your hooks, baited with the promise of immortality, all under the guise of heavenly justice and the net of law.”
As he spoke, Xu Fengnian did not lower his arm completely. The unsheathed cold blade hung under his arm, and a drop of the dragon’s blood from the Concrete Form trickled from its tip. He raised an eyebrow, glancing upward with a twisted smile, “I’ve never been much for talking during a fight. I prefer to say nothing if I can. But I’ve spoken so much to you because we both know you’re waiting, and I’m slowly recovering. After my deathmatch with Wang Xianzhi, the celestial body gifted by Gao Shulu was mostly ruined, my energy leaking uncontrollably. But instead of repairing my body, I went to Wudang Mountain to undergo secret techniques, focusing on perfecting the ‘pond’ within me, even if it meant limping along the martial path…”
Xu Fengnian turned his head and spat out a mouthful of blood violently. People often describe unbearable pain as bone-deep or heart-wrenching, but for someone like Xu Fengnian, whose internal energy was shattered and pain radiated outward, the agony was even more extreme—like a commoner being slowly crushed inch by inch with a small hammer, his flesh and bones shattered, his meridians pierced by needles, yet his mind remained painfully clear.
Xu Fengnian’s face twisted in pain, “It hurts like hell. I’ve gone through it many times, but I still haven’t gotten used to it. Compared to the Thunder Spear of Duan Bo Huihui, it’s like a tickle.”
As he spoke, the blood about to hit the ground transformed into a crimson serpent-like spirit, darting back into his body and vanishing beneath his skin.
Red threads twisted like snakes flickering across his exposed skin.
Regaining some strength, Xu Fengnian tightened his grip on the cool blade, smeared with the dragon’s blood, and pressed it against the python’s forehead.
The two dragon whiskers trembled violently, as if in fury.
Xu Fengnian exhaled deeply, whispering, “Huangman’er, hold on a little longer.”
A dazzling white light emerged from the Western Capital, racing swiftly into Liuzhou from the Northern March.
Looking closer, it was actually two radiant streams entwined together, like twin dragons chasing a pearl.
Xu Fengnian straightened his back with effort, his expression rare and solemn. Left hand gripping the blade, right hand opening, he slashed the cold blade across his palm.
He clenched his fist tightly.
At that moment, behind Xu Fengnian, the boy lunged forward with his sword, intercepting the purple lightning.
The heavenly thunder, meant for Xu Fengnian’s back, was blocked by the boy. Upon impact, the thin youth was immediately driven to his knees, his body leaning backward.
The originally straight path of the purple lightning slightly deviated, showing the slightest bend.
The brilliant violet electricity wildly scattered above the boy’s head.
The boy was struck into the ground by the unstoppable thunder, his knees buried deep.
The front of the purple lightning was sliced by the sword Calming Wind and Waves held in his mouth, creating a small rift, but still insufficient to break through the thunder.
The purple light wildly wrapped around the sword, which vibrated like a mourning cicada in autumn.
Even a renowned sword like Calming Wind and Waves, how could it withstand such a thunderbolt? Xu Longxiang’s entire face was “engulfed” in the purple lightning.
On the surface, the eighth bolt of purple lightning was only as thick as a tree trunk, not particularly awe-inspiring, only slightly more formidable than the sixth, which was as thin as a thread. It was even far less impressive than the first thunder Xu Fengnian destroyed with a single Azure Dragon sleeve, which had been as thick as a water vat. Yet, the watching Tan Tai Pingjing and Deng Tai’a both knew clearly—the power of this thunder could be split into hundreds of bolts equal to the fierce sixth.
If Huang Qing, the Sword Saint, could have lived to see this, he might have finally found peace, despite his resentment.
This was the true strength of Xu Longxiang after reaching the Heaven-Approaching Realm.
Such terrifying power was something every cultivator would find intolerable.
Suddenly, a figure appeared beside the boy—a faint image of an old man in yellow and purple robes.
The boy, biting the sword, turned his head with difficulty, letting the thunder strike his neck.
The aged Daoist faced the boy, eyes tightly shut.
An old and a young, reunited after a long separation.
The old man smiled.
Earlier, the violet-gold lotus Xu Fengnian’s blade had bloomed was the result of the old man sacrificing his own life essence—the ultimate price paid in a tragic finale.
The old Daoist’s form faded visibly before their eyes.
The boy’s face was bathed in purple light, his lips quivered, but no sound came forth. Whether he wept was impossible to tell.
The lower half of the old man’s body had already vanished when he turned his head to glance at Xu Fengnian’s direction, “Master Xu, don’t go dying on me. Whether you bring wine to my grave or not doesn’t matter, just make sure to burn a few copies of《The Heart Sutra of the Jade Maiden》for me.”
“Apprentice, I’m just going ahead for reincarnation. In the next life, we’ll be master and apprentice again…”
“And also, the hawthorns on the mountain were plentiful this year. Too bad you won’t be around to help me eat them. I picked quite a few, but I can’t finish them all.”
The old man turned to look at the boy, as if returning to the ruined Daoist temple at the foot of Longhu Mountain, chattering as always. Finally, he pointed at the sky with his finger, angrily shouting, “Huangman’er, give ‘em hell!”
Thus, a Heavenly Master passed away.
The boy, twisting his neck to watch the old man, was struck lower and lower by the thunder. He tried to lift a limp arm, reaching out to grab his master, unwilling to let him go.
But all in vain.
The boy took a step forward, suddenly his abdomen vibrated like a drum, resonating with the earth, sending out ripples in circles.
When things are unequal, they cry out!
Beyond the circle of brothers and dragon-python, within a radius of ten li, the earth collapsed instantly!
But at the moment Xu Longxiang was turning the tide, the true dragon, near death yet not dead in the Concrete Form, received a long-awaited surge of rebirth.
Two streaks of white light, intertwined, suddenly split apart as they neared the dragon’s head, crashing into its lifeless eyes!
The eyes were painted!
The true dragon opened its eyes!
The four dragon claws of the headless body dug into the earth.
The severed head flew back to the body, seamlessly reattached, restored as if nothing had happened.
The dragon soared into the sky, vanishing without a trace.
In an instant, the dragon’s head emerged from the clouds, gazing down at the world with disdain, its tail barely visible eight hundred zhang away in the mist.
Tan Tai Pingjing murmured in disbelief, “It should not be this way… a thousand zhang… a celestial dragon…”
Xu Fengnian paid no heed, muttering, “I had planned to let you appear only when we reached Luoyang’s ancient city.”
A single drop of blood fell slowly from between his clenched fingers.
When the blood was three feet from the ground, Xu Fengnian suddenly roared, “Come forth!”
Boom!
The sound rang out like a droplet striking a still water surface, startlingly clear in the silence.
A thousand-zhang-long celestial dragon spat forth a thunderbolt the size of a ball, hurtling toward the ground.
At the spot where Xu Fengnian’s blood had dripped, a tall and mighty man appeared, his entire body radiating golden light. Perhaps in the past thousand years of Central Plains history, not a single emperor among hundreds recorded in the annals could rival the imperial aura emanating from him. With one hand behind his back and the other extended forward, he effortlessly supported the enormous purple lightning bolt that blotted out the sky.
The majestic man, his back to Xu Fengnian, spoke calmly, “Carry a message to her: ‘I am ashamed.’”
Xu Fengnian remained silent, turned slightly toward the south, squeezed out a second drop of blood, and said, “Summon again!”
A scholarly-looking man appeared with a smile before Xu Fengnian.
He nodded and smiled at Xu. “Don’t ask where I come from or which era I belong to. Think only where I must go and whom I must meet. These words I spoke to the sixth reincarnation of Lü Dongxuan, I also spoke to myself. After today, will you have no regrets?”
Xu Fengnian pointed to his own heart.
The man smiled knowingly.
Though his temples were streaked with white, it did nothing to diminish his peerless elegance and grace. He gazed toward a tall woman in the distance who was weeping silently and softly murmured, “You silly giant.” Then he raised one hand and cupped it upward.
A full moon slowly rose from his palm.
Xu Fengnian, his face pale, turned sharply northward and said in a deep voice, “Summon the third!”
A beam of light, descending from countless miles above, crashed down upon the world.
A True Martial Divine Manifestation!
Yet unlike the previous time at the Spring Spirit Lake, where the manifestation had emerged with majestic and awe-inspiring grandeur, this time the Divine Manifestation of True Martial bore an oppressive, unnatural presence, as if defying the natural order.
From the highest heavens, countless golden threads like fishing lines arced downward, striking the earth and rebounding, wildly entangling the limbs of the Divine Manifestation.
Yet despite this descent that defied the Heavens, not a single thread dared approach the head of the Divine Manifestation.
However, the ethereal celestial maidens, whose flowing robes danced gracefully around the Divine Manifestation, were torn apart one by one by the crisscrossing threads.
Deng Tai’a paid no heed to the inexplicable distraction of Tantai Jing, his face filled with shock as he bitterly remarked, “Wang Xianzhi, you were a monster, but this one is a madman.”
After regaining her composure, Tantai Jing bowed deeply and respectfully, weeping uncontrollably, her voice choked with sobs: “Master, you said the Heavenly Dao demands people to bow their heads, but the Great Dao allows even the sea turtle and the well frog to find joy in their own ways. Your disciple was wrong, but now I understand.”
When the Divine Manifestation of True Martial lifted one foot, the battle erupted in full fury.
With one hand, the Divine Manifestation tore away the dense golden threads entangling its body, and with the other foot, it crushed the purple lightning bolt that had relentlessly pursued the young Huangman’er.
The thunderbolt snapped like a broken fishing rod into two halves.
Stepping forward, the Divine Manifestation seized both halves of the lightning bolt. One half it flung back into the sky, while the other was hurled toward the already formidable Northern Desert celestial dragon.
According to ancient texts, water vipers and mountain serpents transform into dragons after five hundred years, and dragons become true dragons after a thousand years, and after another thousand years, they finally become supreme celestial dragons.
The Northern Desert true dragon should not have ascended to the rank of celestial dragon so quickly, yet the Heavenly Dao willed it so.
The celestial dragon, soaring amidst the clouds, faced off against the Divine Manifestation of True Martial Emperor. Though it showed reverence, it bore no fear, and extended a claw to strike the half-thunderbolt.
The thunderbolt pierced the dragon’s claw, and the celestial dragon roared down toward the earth, breaking through the clouds with a deafening howl. From its mouth erupted another purple lightning bolt.
Xu Fengnian said expressionlessly, “Regardless of heaven or earth, dare you act recklessly in the north?”
The Divine Manifestation of True Martial responded in unison, its voice immense and resonant, like mighty bells and drums echoing through the heavens and earth.
The celestial dragon, its clouds surging like raging waves, revealed its true thousand-zhang form, no longer hidden by mist.
Yet at the same time, from the east, west, and south, three other mighty beams of light descended.
Thus, the four directions of heaven and earth trembled together.
Xu Fengnian, as if experiencing a final burst of vitality, appeared strangely animated despite his illness, and nodded toward the fading Divine Manifestation of True Martial.
The mighty man, exuding imperial majesty, had already casually swatted away the purple lightning bolt. He smiled and asked, “What are we waiting for?”
The scholarly and refined man, who had lifted the moon into the sky, now opened his fingers. The moonlight became peerless, flowing entirely into Xu Fengnian’s Beiliang saber. He smiled and said, “If a celestial being has no worries, then there are none. If the world worries, it worries by itself. I have debated thrice with the three incarnations of Lü Dongxuan, and always concluded that well should be well, and ill should be ill. Principles and principles, the great Dao and heavenly law—if the heavenly law does not conform to the great Dao, then it is not a principle.”
As he spoke, the refined man’s form began to waver and dissolve with the dispersing light.
The Qin Emperor suddenly roared with laughter, appearing beneath the Divine Manifestation of True Martial, facing south from the north. Before he too dissolved into light and merged into the Divine Manifestation, he shouted, “Begone!”
The three mighty beams of light from the southeast and west hesitated and quivered momentarily.
Though the beams soon surged forward defiantly, in that fleeting moment, Xu Fengnian had already clasped both hands around his saber.
The Divine Manifestation of True Martial did the same.
The celestial dragon pressed down its four claws from the high sky, its two long whiskers violently trembling, its mouth holding the dragon pearl.
The pearl shone like a blazing sun!
Xu Fengnian stepped forward and swung his blade downward.
The Divine Manifestation did the same.
A crescent moon was carved into the sky.
It struck the blazing pearl suspended in midair!
It was as if the sun and moon had collided.
The thousand-zhang-long celestial dragon’s body trembled, scale by scale.
Xu Fengnian’s saber stroke, like splitting a mountain, halted halfway.
A small chip formed on the blade’s edge.
The blood and flesh of Xu Fengnian’s hands were completely worn away, until only bare bones gripped the hilt.
The celestial dragon, forced backward, roared furiously, its four claws digging into the air.
Xu Fengnian erupted in a storm of crimson blood, roaring, “I’ll cut down this celestial dragon!”
The Beiliang saber shattered into two halves with a loud crack.
Xu Fengnian crashed heavily onto the ground.
High above, the dragon pearl exploded.
The crescent moon cleaved through the head of the Northern Desert celestial dragon behind the pearl, splitting it in two!
The earth trembled. A massive white serpent, though far shorter than the thousand-zhang celestial dragon, leaped up from the ground, opened its maw wide, and swallowed the dragon’s head and half its body in one gulp!
The giant serpent, with half the celestial dragon already in its belly, dragged the rest of the dragon’s body down and continued devouring the remaining half!
Heaven and earth returned to silence.
No more celestial beings, no more celestial dragons. At last, the snow fell freely and without restraint.
Xu Fengnian had severed the dragon.
The cold serpent had devoured the dragon!
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