Lingxi quickly concealed that tiny bit of a guilty conscience. Her cold gaze, like ten-thousand-year-old ice, slowly turned once again toward the only remaining person on the field, the pale-faced Murong Qiu.
Lingxi's cold gaze, like ice that would not melt for ten thousand years, slowly turned toward the only remaining person on the field, the pale-faced Murong Qiu.
This gaze was sharper than any divine weapon. It instantly pierced through Murong Qiu's final madness and paranoia, as if illuminating his decaying soul.
"When the Dao heart is covered in dust, lifespan is nothing but an excuse. Greed for life and fear of death—that is the true demon."
Lingxi's voice was not loud, yet every word was like a crack of thunder, exploding within Murong Qiu's sea of consciousness!
There was no reprimand, no disdain. It was as if she was not judging him, but rather stating the most fundamental truth of the universe.
Greed for life and fear of death... that is the true demon...
These few short words were like the sharpest sword of the Heavenly Dao, instantly cleaving through all his disguises, justifications, and self-deception!
They laid bare his most wretched heart—the heart he dared not look at—exposing it nakedly to the light of day!
Yes... for these past few centuries, had he truly been pursuing the Great Dao?
Under the seemingly justified excuse of "extending his lifespan," he had merely been indulging his fear of death and nurturing the greedy demonic nature within his heart!
His Dao heart had long been swallowed by this true demon of the "fear of death"!
All his obsessions and madness appeared so ridiculous, so pitiful before those words!
As if struck by lightning, Murong Qiu's entire body trembled violently. He jerked his head up, looking in disbelief at the woman in green who had spoken those words.
Her gaze was calm and rippleless, yet profound as a sea of stars. That look... that look did not belong to a young cultivator at all, but rather to a supreme being... overlooking the mortal realm and commanding the cycle of reincarnation!
At this moment, all his flukes and paranoia were completely crushed. An immense shame and a sense of despair at being completely seen through, with nowhere to hide, extinguished his last trace of madness like ice water.
The blood-red madness in his eyes completely faded, replaced by extreme shock, bewilderment, and an uncontrollable shame and enlightenment rising from the depths of his soul.
He stumbled back a step. The Autumn Water Sword in his hand let out a mournful cry, its radiance dimming, as if it too felt the drastic change in its master's state of mind.
"I... have lost..."
His voice was dry and hoarse, as if it took all his strength to spit out those words. But this defeat seemed to refer to more than just today's battle.
He looked around at these overly young yet incredibly powerful faces, feeling the vigorous, high-spirited, and indomitable Dao intent radiating from them. Those eyes, that aura... how familiar it all was...
Once upon a time, he, Murong Qiu, had been just like that!
The floodgates of memory crashed open, and the past rushed into his mind like a tide.
He remembered his youth, leaving his sect with a sword in hand, full of vigor and spirit, desiring to measure heaven and earth with his blade and right all the injustices of the world!
Back then, his sword heart was clear and bright, his sharpness unstoppable. The cold light of his single sword strike had made him famous across the Eastern Region. He was the idol of countless young swordsmen, hailed as the genius with the greatest hope of reaching the realm of the Sword Saint.
"The long Autumn Water Sword shakes the stars; a youth travels with an aura that towers over a thousand mountains..."
He muttered to himself, a distant gleam flashing in his cloudy eyes—a reminiscence of his lost youth.
But time... is the most ruthless blade.
He didn't know when it started, but his former sharpness had been ground away, and his past ideals had been drowned by reality.
Watching his peers and friends turn to yellow earth one by one, feeling his own vitality declining day by day, and touching the barrier to the Saint Realm that seemed so close yet so impossibly far... he became afraid.
He began to scheme desperately for life-extending pills, calculating resources. For that illusory glimmer of survival, he did not hesitate to lay down his dignity, joining forces with other old monsters to besiege the younger generation and snatch the legendary Seven Stars Secret Token and the Undying Divine Elixir.
"Heh heh... Haha..."
Murong Qiu suddenly began to chuckle, his laughter filled with endless self-deprecation and desolation.
"To think that I, Murong Qiu, fancied myself a grandmaster of the sword, having cultivated for over a thousand years... only to become, in the end, the very type of person I despised and loathed the most in my youth...
Trapped by lifespan, blinded by greed, my Dao heart covered in dust without me even realizing it... How ridiculous! How pathetic!"
His gaze fell once again upon Fang Hanyu's pure and powerful primal chaos sword intent. His look was no longer one of jealousy and madness, but an almost pious envy, along with deep... regret.
"I once thought that the sword in my hand could slay demons and sever evil, that I could freely exact gratitude and revenge... Only now do I know that even the sharpest sword in this world cannot sever the flow of time, nor can it break the shackles of lifespan... Time is ruthless, exclusively striking down the chosen geniuses..."
He took a deep breath, as if to inhale centuries of degradation and remorse into his lungs, and then slowly exhaled.
His eyes became unusually calm, even carrying a liberating clarity.
"Today... witnessing the brilliance of you all, I finally understand the vastness of heaven and earth, and the immensity of the Dao of the Sword... It has also allowed this lost soul to catch a glimpse, before death, of a long-forgotten... original heart of the sword."
He looked at Fang Hanyu, no longer bearing any resentment in his eyes, only complete candor and an almost grateful sense of release.
"To see such pure sword intent before I die, to witness the infinite possibilities of the sword's future... perhaps this is the final mercy... that time has bestowed upon this lost old man."
Before his voice had even faded, a look of absolute resolve flashed in his eyes, and he abruptly reversed all the remaining spiritual energy and sword essence within his body!
"Buzz—!"
The Autumn Water Sword let out an unprecedented, mournful wail that sounded like weeping blood. The light on the blade surged, no longer the cold gleam meant for killing enemies, but a dazzling brilliance born of burning one's life force and returning to the origin! This radiance faintly reflected the spirited and vigorous shadow of his youth.
"I, Murong Qiu... use this broken body to thank you all... for allowing me... to bid farewell... with dignity..."
In the next moment, the sword aura around his body erupted explosively, yet it did not attack anyone. Instead, it all collapsed inward, condensing at the center of his brow!
"Pfft—!"
A soft sound echoed, like the snuffing out of a candle.
An illusory sword shadow, formed purely from his lifelong cultivation in the Dao of the Sword and his final divine soul, flashed and vanished at his brow, instantly obliterating all his life force.
His body slowly fell backward. His face bore a trace of liberating peace, and even faintly held the serenity of returning to his original heart.
The Autumn Water Sword, which had accompanied him for nearly a thousand years, let out a final sorrowful cry. The blade shattered inch by inch, turning into specks of flowing light that lingered by his side, like a loyal companion escorting its master on his final journey.
A once all-powerful sovereign of the sword, whose name had shaken the Eastern Region, used this tragic yet resolute method to draw a period on his misguided path—a conclusion filled with regret, yet retaining his final dignity and original heart.
The field fell into a deathly silence, with only the wind sobbing, as if weeping and complaining.
Xiao Ruobai put away his smile, looking with a complex expression at Murong Qiu's fallen figure. Ultimately, it turned into a soft sigh: "Alas... the blade of time is indeed ruthless."
Fang Hanyu watched in silence as the sword phantom dissipated and the Autumn Water Sword broke. The chaotic sword qi flowing around his body rippled slightly, as if paying tribute to a fallen swordsman.
Ling Xi's gaze remained aloof and cold, but deep within her eyes, a faint ripple seemed to flash by, a subtle sigh at the unpredictability of fate.
Within the cocoon of light, Fatty Wang stared blankly at the scene, a complex mixture of emotions churning in his heart.
Three chapters today!
lity and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life. Yet he didn't know— The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king. The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it. The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him. Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds. Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along...
to panic—he has a system. As long as an investment target dies, he can claim a reward. And since he is immortal, the one thing he has plenty of is time. ... Countless years later. “Immortal Emperor of Longevity? I invested in him.” “Supreme Celestial Venerable? I invested in him.” “Undying Empress? I invested in her.” “...” “Heh. Once they’ve all died, even the Heavenly Dao will have to kneel and call me Dad.”
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
his freshman year, Su Bai accidentally bound the "Indulgence Tycoon System." 【Sleeping in? Reward: +$1,000】 【Spent $288 at a street barbecue stall? Cashback: +$2,880】 【Dropped $14,396 on in-game skins? Special reward unlocked: A brand-new Porsche Panamera!】 Luxury cars, penthouses, corporate shares, financial empires… College life was all about living freely and doing whatever he pleased! … When the adorably naive academic genius faced family medical bills and financial struggles, Su Bai waved his hand dismissively: "Your future is on me." "Wuwu~ Big Brother is so good to me! I’ll become a scientist to repay you!" When the genius girl got bullied by a shady professor? Su Bai casually dropped a billion-dollar investment, forcing the university to grovel and beg for her return. A company’s funding chain collapsing? Su Bai smirked—cash was the one thing he’d never run out of. Years later, when people traced the rise of the AI prodigy beauty, who was the man behind her success? Not just that—Su Bai also became the tsundere campus belle’s unattainable dream, the contrast senior’s daily necessity, and the beautiful counselor’s emotional anchor…
