Want to Grow Old with You

The followers of the Hundred Beasts Hall and the demonic creatures met an unsettling end.

By the time they realized it, it was already too late.

The gloomy sky had turned pitch black, as dark as ink, and a vast expanse of goose-feather snow began to drift between heaven and earth. Day had unknowingly shifted into night, with a cold moon casting its light over all things.

Beneath the moon, a figure stood—serene, beautiful, and icy.

A deathly pale hue, indistinguishable between moonlight and frost, spread across the land, dyeing the earth and the mountain-like Great Wall into a boundless expanse of white.

The leading demonic creatures were instantly frozen into lifelike ice sculptures, shattering into shards of ice at the slightest tremor.

Meanwhile, the breached city gates were swiftly repaired by the encroaching frost.

"She's alone!"

"Don’t panic! I refuse to believe she can kill us all before her strength runs out!"

"Behind us lies the cursed lands, and ahead is the fertile Tianren City—there’s no retreat!"

The disciples of the Hundred Beasts Hall shouted, activating secret techniques to bolster the demonic creatures' power.

The malevolent energy of the demons surged, and even the lowliest among them ceased trembling in fear.

Clearly, they were prepared to fight to the death, burning their bridges behind them.

When fear reaches its limit, it becomes fury!

To the martial artists and common folk watching from beyond the "Rivers and Mountains Scroll," the scene was nerve-wracking, stirring complex emotions.

Though they were demons, there was something... strangely exhilarating about it?

But...

Their rage proved utterly futile.

The most powerful among them spewed venomous flames or unleashed eerie thunderbolts.

Yet the ice, shimmering like a flawless mirror, reflected their attacks back at them without fail.

With their techniques rendered useless, they could only rely on brute strength.

Their might was enough to shake the earth and topple mountains—it was their combined force that had shattered the gates in the first place.

But now, their strongest blows merely cracked the ice, which then swiftly mended itself.

Even those who managed to slip through were battered by the moonlight that fell with the snow, their steps growing heavier and heavier.

Their once-proud abilities dimmed upon activation, their surging power waning, their fangs and scales withering with age.

As if time itself flowed faster upon them, what stood in their way was not just frost—but the relentless passage of time!

An hour later, even the mightiest demons collapsed in unwilling defeat, leaving the southern gate a silent, frozen hell.

The shattered gates were sealed once more—only now, they were replaced by a far thicker, far sturdier wall of ice.

Beyond the city, in the gray mist, a pair of eyes gazed deeply at the figure beneath the moon.

"When my body reforms, we shall meet again."

Its voice was like the whisper of wind echoing in the void before fading into the depths of the cursed lands.

Within and beyond the imperial capital, disbelief reigned in the silence:

"Even by outside standards, this is the level of the Seventh Realm, isn’t it?"

"She just wielded not one but two Daos effortlessly, merging them seamlessly—how many in the Seventh Realm can do that?"

"But she hasn’t even reached the Fourth Realm—how can she manipulate the Great Dao so freely?"

"It’s so brutal, I almost feel like speaking up for the demons..."

The first wave of the celestial calamity was nearly ended by her alone.

Nearly—because while the southern gate was resealed, a significant number of demons had already flooded into the human city.

Without the Hundred Beasts Hall’s command, they scattered like dandelion seeds, each fighting independently.

For a long time to come, the human city would struggle to recover from the lingering pain.

That same year, the Earth City declared that all newly built settlements would allow exit but no entry, forcing panicked refugees to turn back.

The Celestial Clan was powerful, but they cared little for mortal lives.

Jiang Yu, however, issued orders for Earth City’s martial artists to organize and gradually cleanse the remnants.

But Earth City’s warriors had no reason to risk their lives for free, and their factions were far from united—internal strife only worsened after the Celestial Clan’s intervention.

With the situation still unclear, they chose to watch from the sidelines, unwilling to venture beyond the city. Without the advantage of terrain, martial artists were no match for demons.

Still, they established a "Blade Hunters" organization, offering bounties as a token gesture to the Celestial Clan.

For a time, martial artists among the common folk stepped forward, performing many heroic deeds.

But their strength was ultimately a drop in the ocean.

Amidst the chaos, the once-small Dawang Village—now Dawang Town—became a beacon of hope, the only safe haven in a turbulent sea.

The Celestial Clan’s warnings kept Earth City’s warriors from meddling, and after several failed attempts, the demons learned that the town housed a forbidden presence.

So terrifying it could silence the cries of lesser demons at night!

Thus, Dawang Town alone flourished in peace and prosperity.

Five years later.

Dawang Town had grown significantly, lacking only city walls to be considered a full-fledged city.

Countless mortals had settled here, and it became the Blade Hunters’ agreed-upon base.

Another ordinary day in Dawang Town.

Layers of clouds stretched across the sky, and the sun, barely peeking over the distant horizon, painted the green mountains, vast farmlands, and clustered houses in hues of sorrow.

Were it not for a rooster’s crow, one might struggle to tell if it was dawn or dusk.

The familiar faces of Dawang Village gathered outside a humble courtyard, waiting for the physician to emerge.

"The village chief was fine last night—how could this happen so suddenly?"

"Could it be a final rally before..."

"Enough! Brother Li Mo will be fine!"

Dong Erniu, now aged but still playing with sticks like a child, stubbornly clung to calling him "Brother Li Mo."

Just then.

The door opened, and the crowd fell silent.

Under their anxious gazes, the physician shook his head.

"He has words for you. Go in quickly."

"...Take care."

Dong Erniu fumbled out a handful of silver pieces for the physician.

Like the others, he already knew the truth—but a sliver of desperate hope lingered.

As they stepped into the courtyard, unchanged for decades, a wave of nostalgia washed over them.

They remembered the village chief in his youth, tirelessly swinging his hammer in this very yard—strong and cheerful. Every farming tool in the village, and even many of their weapons, had been forged here, stroke by stroke.

When Dong Erniu was in his thirties, he’d clashed with an outsider martial artist.

Yet his plain iron sword had cleaved through the opponent’s refined weapon like paper.

It was also here that he’d trained under Brother Li Mo.

Lost in memories, they hesitated at the door, unwilling to step inside.

"You’re all here... come in."

A weak, weary voice called from within, barely audible.

The villagers were jolted back to reality.