Chapter 785: Mount Han Kai

Chapter 785: Fief at Wolf’s Dwelling

Night Jiuyou’s true form was bantering with Blind, while her clone suffered a splitting headache.

If it were merely the rigid power of the formation disk, no matter how strong, it wouldn’t be a problem—she could easily evade it. But at that very moment, her wrist was seized by the Eternal Sky God, and that fellow, half-crippled and muddled in reason, failed to dodge in time.

Thus, she too was dragged along, unable to withdraw at once, and could only parry in return.

The clash of energies erupted with a roar. Night Jiuyou glimpsed cruel eyes lurking within the thick blood aura: “Jiuyou? Good…”

“Boom!” Her power, the remnants of the Eternal Sky God’s strength, and the master of those eyes collided. All three shuddered. Night Jiuyou clearly felt the Eternal Sky God, entangled with her, lose all power—on the brink of death.

The master of the eyes fared no better, seemingly caught off guard by encountering two opponents of this caliber right after emerging. The blood aura twisted and churned in chaos, perhaps wounded the moment it awoke.

—Could Zhao Changhe’s arrangement be aimed at this blood aura as well, leaving them all mutually crippled?

As this thought flashed through her mind, Night Jiuyou herself was in a bad state. A mouthful of blood stuck in her throat, forcibly suppressed as she retreated swiftly.

A sharp sword gleam had already flashed behind her—Yue Hongling’s blade slicing toward her nape.

Night Jiuyou flicked her hand back, striking the sword’s side, and beneath her feet, faint blue flames rose, engulfing her.

Night Jiuyou felt even worse.

This was no ordinary fire, nor even the heartfire that had just scorched the Eternal Sky God.

It was yin fire, the gate of life and death—the most severe manifestation of the conflict between her understanding and the Night Emperor’s system.

In the Vermilion Bird’s comprehension of the laws, Night Jiuyou belonged to a kind of “undead.” This was a highly antagonistic suppression. If the Vermilion Bird’s cultivation were higher, reaching the Night Emperor’s level, she might be gravely suppressed. Even now, with the Vermilion Bird’s cultivation far inferior, this was merely a clone, wounded, and equally agonizing.

The blood stuck in her throat finally could not be held back, trickling from the corner of her lips onto her pale chin.

And blade light, like wind, erupted around her.

Zhao Changhe, Blood Stains the Mountains and Rivers!

Amid this unending tide of attacks, Night Jiuyou finally tasted some of the helplessness that the Dao Lord and the Eternal Sky God had once felt. Under such circumstances, she could not fully defend against Zhao Changhe’s sweeping blade wind; her garments were torn in many places, revealing patches of fair skin.

Night Jiuyou couldn’t even bother to check if she was exposed anywhere. She knew that at this moment, Zhao Changhe was actually the weakest link, so she charged straight at him, fingers pressed together like a sword, thrusting at his throat: “Get out of the way!”

Zhao Changhe blinked. He didn’t even make the simple move of tilting his head to dodge. Instead, his left palm viciously slammed toward her chest.

Wind and thunder roared, overwhelming mountains and seas!

For a moment, Night Jiuyou couldn’t understand. Li Shentong risking his life to block the Eternal Sky God was one thing, but she hadn’t taken the Heavenly Book—why was he risking his life to stop her? Was he insane?

In a flash, her finger-sword had already struck Zhao Changhe’s throat. A blur of afterimages passed—no damage.

The Snow Owl’s light-splitting shadow-casting technique? Or something slightly different. As this thought crossed her mind, Night Jiuyou’s protective qi rebounded, deflecting Zhao Changhe’s overwhelming palm strike, preventing it from landing solidly.

But as everyone knows, certain parts tend to bulge somewhat… The palm, deflected as it passed, grazed by, causing a slight tremor.

At the northern desert’s Hangu Pass, both Night Jiuyou’s faces flushed crimson like blood. Blind let out a snicker: “Ha… hahaha…”

Night Jiuyou shot her a glare, while her clone already wore a seductive smile: “So it seems the Prince of Zhao still takes an interest in this little woman’s body… We’ll discuss it another time, hmm…”

“Clang!” Her delicate hand spun, parrying the sword and spear chasing from behind—Yue Hongling and Huangfu Qing’s furious strikes—and her figure vanished into the distance.

Her laughter lingered in the air: “You two still need more practice, or you might not be able to compete with me.”

Blind clicked her tongue twice: “Shameless.”

Night Jiuyou said, “He touched me, yet you scold me instead of him?”

Blind: “…Did he tell you to say those words too?”

Night Jiuyou’s beautiful eyes flickered: “What, are you afraid?”

Blind folded her arms in exasperation: “You’re sick.”

“Rumble!” Thunder still rolled in the sky. The Eternal Sky God’s body only now fell to the ground, showing how lightning-fast the previous exchanges had been.

He was not dead. Drenched in blood, covered in wounds, he still knelt on one knee, one hand propping him up, refusing to fall.

The fierce blood aura was also coalescing, gradually forming a human shape, which then strode toward the Eternal Sky God.

“Lie…” the Eternal Sky God murmured, as if to himself: “How strange. You valued body refinement most, yet how do you survive in this form?”

“Like that one just now… As long as the world’s chaos and annihilation still exist, she is eternal. Such existence is closer to the Dao than a fixed body. I merely tried to see if all the world’s blood aura is part of me. When the aura gathers most densely, I awaken within it.” The blood-aura Lie explained, then asked in surprise: “What about you? What is this Eternal Sky? Did such a thing exist in antiquity?”

“Same destination by different paths. The faith of the grassland people coalesces, inevitably manifesting some existence—if not me, then another. I merely occupy this position. As long as they remain, in theory, I am immortal.”

“But you seem about to die.”

“The grassland is too weak.”

“Is it their weakness?” Lie sneered. “No. You rely on them, yet they have no need of you.”

The Eternal Sky God took a few deep breaths: “None of your concern. Did you come for the Heavenly Book?”

“I was sleeping. How would I know who has the Heavenly Book?”

“Then why are you standing before me spouting nonsense? Pity or reminiscing? If you want to kill, kill. Why waste words? And aren’t there plenty of people over there? You, a murderer, don’t go after them!”

Lie was silent for a moment, then looked up at the rift above: “I originally wanted to seize a body most suited to my will and be reborn… But suddenly, I find it very meaningless.”

The Eternal Sky God was stunned.

“A few months ago, someone asked me, ‘Since you allow gods and buddhas to disperse, why make yourself a god or buddha?’ I found it somewhat interesting, so I deliberately waited these extra days.” Lie smiled faintly. “Those believers of mine up there… might earn much respect from many, hailed as heroes. I rampaged through my life, never receiving such… This feeling is strange. I don’t know why I would want to replace them.”

The Eternal Sky God’s expression shifted from shock to silence.

“Let me see the Heavenly Book.” Lie extended his hand.

The Eternal Sky God, quite straightforward, took out the Heavenly Book and tossed it directly over.

Lie praised: “Still forthright.”

He caught the book, immersed his mind in it for a moment, then sighed softly: “Truth and illusion, existence and non-existence. Everything you and I have done, looking back now, is but vanity… Even this world is. This page of the Heavenly Book, so crucial, has been in your hands, yet I see almost no personal understanding or application from you. Truly a waste of a divine gift.”

The Eternal Sky God felt no insult, only said calmly: “If everything could be mastered at first touch, that would be too fantastical. Zhao Changhe seems to learn broadly, but most of it is merely superficial… I bet you could study it for a hundred years and still not grasp it.”

“Hmm… indeed.” Lie directly tossed the Heavenly Book back. “Not my path.”

The Eternal Sky God asked: “If you don’t take a body, will you become a formation disk’s spirit? Without attaching to a specific vessel, you cannot become a concrete existence. Eventually, you will slowly dissipate, becoming an objective concept of ‘blood aura,’ devoid of self-awareness.”

Lie turned and strode away: “I need to investigate some things. Once I am certain, I will have my own plans. For me, time is sufficient.”

Once, he had said to Zhao Changhe, “When the Blood God Formation Disk awakens, we shall meet again.” But this time, he did not speak a single word to Zhao Changhe, as if there were unresolved matters, nothing to say. Even though Zhao Changhe had used him to clash with Night Jiuyou, leaving both wounded—clearly guarding against him and weakening him—he made no issue of it, walking away.

Not guarding against him would be foolish; guarding was only natural. To have used himself in the moment, Lie genuinely thought Zhao Changhe was very formidable, but he didn’t want to go praise him—pointless. Besides, whether praise was warranted depended on the results of his subsequent investigations.

Outside, Xue Canghai and others knelt in a row: “Lord…”

“…God” never left their lips before Lie had already vanished, leaving behind his final words: “I only wanted you as vessels, and your faith in me was never true. Why speak of it? In all this time, I never gave you a single instruction, and I feel somewhat embarrassed. So let me say this: Man is the master of blood aura; do not be bound by it. If you can take my place, then take my place.”

Xue Canghai, Sun Hengchuan, and the others exchanged glances, stopped kneeling, and stood up straight: “This Blood God is not what we imagined?”

“Maybe he got confused after sleeping for an epoch…”

“No, this temple has turned to ash. What are we doing here anyway?”

“Who is charging up the mountain?”

“Careful, that’s Bo’e!”

While Lie and the Eternal Sky God were conversing, Zhao Changhe and his family paid them no heed. They swiftly picked up Li Shentong and poured their Rejuvenation Art into him without restraint.

The half-unconscious Li Shentong, jolted awake by the intense life-restoring force, frowned slightly, trying to rise from Zhao Changhe’s arms, but gave up weakly.

Zhao Changhe said, "Moving around will make you bleed. Stay still, circulate your energy to cooperate, and you won't die."

Li Shentong quietly sensed for a moment; his entire left arm had been severed, and his left chest was nearly split open to the heart—truly just a hair's breadth away.

These were only the visible wounds on his body, but in truth, a battle at this level was never so simple. Inside, his organs were churned by the might of the Eternal Heavenly God, with hardly a single organ intact, all meridians severed, his dantian shattered—he was utterly ruined.

This was still thanks to Li Shentong's body refinement having almost no weaknesses, able to withstand both inside and out. Had it been any ordinary martial artist, even at the same level, they would have died long ago.

Zhao Changhe's restorative power was nourishing him. Li Shentong knew that with Zhao Changhe's miraculous healing ability, his life could be saved, but nothing else. According to martial arts common sense, recovery was impossible; for the rest of his life, he would only be bedridden. Yet in this age of gods and demons, it was hard to say.

"I never thought I'd end up in the same situation as that old Daoist... He's still only recovered to the Xuan Pass level, and I might only become an ordinary person." Li Shentong even laughed as he spoke: "You might think the old Daoist and I were lifelong close friends, but you're wrong. I've been at odds with him for over thirty years. In the early days, we fought fiercely, and the enmity was deep. And now, we're not even friends at all."

Zhao Changhe was stunned: "Ah?"

You say you had a grudge in the early days but turned enemies into friends—that would be normal... But you say you're not friends now? Ask anyone in the world—who doesn't see you two as inseparable brothers who would entrust each other with their lives?

"The old Daoist follows the way of softness, I follow the way of hardness. He has no desire for slaughter, while my killing intent is heavy. Our philosophies clash severely, and to this day, neither of us is convinced by the other. How could we be friends?" Li Shentong smiled weakly. "But our temperaments are perhaps different from others. We refuse to yield to each other, yet we both admire each other's character, just wanting to make the other submit... Back then, the wine he had you bring was a provocation, asking if I could brew something like that—a clear mountain stream with a fierce aftertaste... Damn it, I couldn't brew it, so I lost."

Zhao Changhe: "..."

"Losing a little here is a small matter. He restrains the wicked for the peace of Kunlun. I, on the other hand, led a rebellion to protect the people of Bashu. Clearly, I win here. His soft-handed methods are useless. That coward, shrinking like a bun, is far inferior to my way of rolling heads to carve out a new world."

Zhao Changhe nodded: "Yes."

"At that time, I even thought of marching my troops to break Kunlun, slaughter that town of villains, and drag the old Daoist out of the Jade Void Palace, trampling the so-called Dao Lord underfoot."

"..."

"But the real loss was the battle of slaying the dragon at the Imperial Ancestral Temple." Li Shentong's smile faded, and he said in a low voice: "The old Daoist used his ability to observe qi to cut off the veins of Beimang, but he didn't join the siege to slay the dragon. I thought he was being a hypocrite, playing both sides. At a time like that, what use was it to just watch Temur? Could he really keep an eye on him? Yet afterward, it made me lose face..."

He took a deep breath and said quietly: "I never imagined that behind the seeming rise of heroes in the Central Plains, there were barbarian puppeteers, even Bo'e lurking among them. What we did became the barbarians' blade; the tyrant we hated so much turned into a king defending his realm in that context. He became the righteous one, and I became the fool—what nonsense? That move was calculated perfectly by the old Daoist. I lost face, utterly lost face. Do you know, even if you hadn't come to Bashu to invite me, I would have come secretly for this battle myself?"

Zhao Changhe said softly: "Actually, when I invited you, it was because I had guessed a little... about that feeling. But I didn't understand why you had to risk your life. It wasn't to that extent."

"I know it wasn't forced to that point... But at that moment, my anger flared up, and I just had to fight. What of it? This method is the most direct and effective, least prone to unexpected changes... Consider it my repayment to Xia Longyuan."

"..."

"Including him laughing at me for not knowing how to govern, saying I'd be worse than him... I don't know how, but can't I leave it to those who do?" Li Shentong laughed heartily: "At that time, I thought I was going to die. Down in the underworld, I could grab the tyrant's dragon robe and ask him, 'How about now? I led a righteous uprising. Laugh at me, you bastard? Were you worthy?'"

Zhao Changhe said: "Senior, you truly did lead a righteous uprising."

Li Shentong glanced at him sideways: "As for you, don't you know that my death would benefit you? Why exhaust your own cultivation to save my life... Your two women are sitting there, wounded and exhausted, healing themselves, and you don't even ask about them... Am I crazy, or are you?"

Zhao Changhe said calmly: "I told Senior Yuxu before... Heroes should not die young. Senior Yuxu is one, and you are too. Whether your cultivation can be restored or not, if I can see heroes enjoying the pleasures of fishing and woodcutting, that will be the fortune of the divine land."

Li Shentong fell silent, smiled faintly, and said no more.

Zhao Changhe said: "Actually, Senior, if you want to ask Old Xia those questions, you can do so now."

Li Shentong was startled: "How?"

"This is the highest mountain in the northern desert. Because the Eternal Heavenly God's temple is here, it is imbued with an ineffable divinity. My blade severed the qi veins, but I couldn't cut off the mountain's divinity entirely. The altar at the summit connects to the heavens above and the nine underworlds below. As long as Old Xia's soul still lingers, I think he can hear your words."

Li Shentong seemed amused: "I think it's you who wants to perform a sacrifice to heaven."

Zhao Changhe, weary, released the hand that had been continuously channeling the Restoration Art. Despite his exhaustion, a relaxed and joyful smile appeared on his face: "Yes... On this mountain, to set up an altar and offer sacrifices to heaven, sealing this achievement, holds a very sacred meaning in my heart."

With that, he lightly flicked the Longque blade resting by his hand.

Lie had already left; Yue Hongling and Huangfu Qing were both healing. The Eternal Heavenly God seemed momentarily unattended... He quietly recovered for a moment, then suddenly tried to rise and flee.

But at that instant, Zhao Changhe flicked Longque, and the blade slashed backward in fury. The Eternal Heavenly God, wounded to his last breath, tried in terror to block, but he could not withstand Longque, which had held back its ultimate strike and now surged with overwhelming momentum.

As if the phantom of a maiden wielded the blade in a furious slash, the wild saber howled past, severing his neck.

Blood spurted like a fountain; the headless divine body stood silently amid thunder.

The war blade of the Central Plains emperor had finally fulfilled its most important mission since its birth.

In the final moments of his life, the Eternal Heavenly God could not understand... Zhao Changhe was clearly at the end of his strength, utterly unable to extend his divine sense to perceive behind him—how did he know he was moving?

Zhao Changhe slowly stood up, grabbed the head, and retrieved Longque.

From outside came Xue Canghai's voice: "Careful, that's Bo'e!"

Zhao Changhe leaped out of the rift in the secret realm. Bo'e was leading his men in a charge up the mountain to aid their god, but Zhao Changhe had already appeared atop the peak, holding up the head.

Bo'e and the others, who had held their last breath to return and protect their faith, halted mid-stride, staring dumbfounded at the head in Zhao Changhe's hand.

No one could believe that the Eternal Heaven had died before them.

"There is no Eternal Heaven," Zhao Changhe said calmly. "Everyone's sky is the same sky, whether you or me. Look, he is dead, and the sky has not fallen."

He slowly turned and walked toward the altar at the summit, as if to place the head upon it.

Bo'e let out a sharp cry, drew his curved blade, and suddenly lunged at Zhao Changhe's back.

Zhao Changhe paid no heed. From the fissure below, flames roared, a phoenix cry rang out, and a sharp spear pierced through Bo'e's path at just the right moment, first penetrating his back.

Huangfu Qing sighed: "I was going to look for you... Our duties correspond. Since you don't want to live..."

She paused, not finishing. Bo'e indeed did not want to live; he seemed to have lost all meaning in life. The feeling of a shattered faith, she, as Vermilion Bird, could somewhat understand.

Killing such an opponent brought no sense of achievement.

Zhao Changhe ignored the scene behind him, walked to the altar, and placed the Eternal Heavenly God's head upon it.

The next moment, a gentle breeze swept across the entire grassland, as if everyone could sense it. No matter where they were in the desert, north or south, all turned their heads toward the sacred mountain.

It seemed a flow of qi veins gathered and circulated. Above, the phantom of a wolf's head gradually dissipated, replaced by a soaring dragon, circling the nine heavens.

The temple troops on the hillside, stunned, slowly knelt. In the blink of an eye, the entire mountain was filled with the lost and broken, covered in blood and grime.

Zhao Changhe's voice slowly spread across the sacred mountain: "The Han armies hold a sacrifice on this mountain. Inform all tribes of the grasslands: come to pay homage within seven days. Those who exceed the time... their clan."