What is swayed by life and death is not called faith.

In mid-air, Su Ji slowly lowered his arm.

The power he had obtained by burning his very essence—power sufficient to destroy the heavens and extinguish the earth—was withdrawing from his body at a terrifying speed.

An indescribable sense of weakness washed over him like a tide.

He could even clearly feel the Glazed Dao Platform he had forged within his body shattering inch by inch.

In truth, Su Ji hadn't lied just now.

That sword strike really did cost him roughly "a thousand years" of lifespan.

As the old saying goes, "To live a day in misery feels like a year."

If he shaved off over a thousand days, doesn't that convert to over a thousand years?

Yet, the expression on Su Ji's face did not change in the slightest.

It was nothing more than a bit of weathering.

What was wrong with borrowing a little power from his future self?

He would just consider it spending three years of his life in exchange for an ancient inheritance.

A fair trade.

Thus, Su Ji's face remained the picture of breezy nonchalance.

He lowered his head to look at the sword in his hand, Chanting Wind, its brilliance now concealed. In his dark golden pupils, a flash of heartache that went unnoticed by anyone passed through.

upon the high platform, the City Lord of Anyang was trembling violently. His teeth chattered uncontrollably, making a loud clacking sound.

One sword strike...

Just a single strike...

All his trump cards, all his reliance, his endless army of dark thralls...

Gone? Completely and utterly gone?

A scam!

It was all a scam!

What Immortal inheritance? What ascension to godhood? It was all bullshit!

With a thud, the City Lord's legs gave out. Unable to support his own weight any longer, he fell miserably to his knees.

He threw his head back, looking up at the azure figure in the sky with a gaze one would direct at a deity, filled with terror.

"You... who exactly are you..."

"Are the Immortals of the Sacred Lands all trash?"

"Ah-hahahaha!"

"I understand now!"

"It must be because I've committed too many evils and offended the heavens! God sent you to collect me!"

"It is time! It is fate! It is not my crime!"

Su Ji did not answer his questions.

He merely floated quietly in mid-air, his robes drifting gently in the breeze.

In the city, the tens of thousands of citizens who had narrowly escaped death had long been scared out of their wits by that heaven-destroying scene just moments ago.

They stood there like wooden chickens, mouths agape, unable to utter a single sound.

It was unknown how much time passed.

Finally, someone recovered from the extreme shock.

"A... a miracle..."

An old man's lips trembled as he muttered to himself.

In the next moment, he faced Su Ji's direction and used all his strength to slam his forehead heavily onto the cold flagstones.

Thud!

The dull sound seemed to act as a signal.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Everywhere in the city, thousands upon thousands of commoners fell to their knees in unison.

They used the most primitive, most devout method to express their highest respect to the god who had saved them from hell.

The sound of kowtowing, like a roaring mountain and a crashing tsunami, converged into an invisible torrent that surged into the sky.

Su Ji listened to the deafening sounds of worship below and felt the gazes gathering upon him—gazes filled with awe, gratitude, and adoration.

An unprecedented sense of satisfaction welled up spontaneously within him.

He, Su Ji, really did enjoy this feeling of being the center of attention.

Thinking back to his days at the Xiangsi Sect, it had been far too stifling.

Su Ji's eyes, which had reverted to their natural dark brown color, finally landed on the figure kneeling paralyzed on the high platform.

The City Lord of Anyang felt Su Ji's gaze and his body shuddered violently, as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

Su Ji did not speak.

He simply raised his hand and pointed the Chanting Wind sword in his grasp towards the City Lord from afar.

The meaning was self-evident.

The last trace of blood drained from the City Lord's face in that instant.

He wanted to run.

But his legs felt as if they were filled with lead; they refused to obey his commands.

His lips quivered, and meaningless gurgling sounds came from his throat. A stream of yellow and white filth flowed slowly down his trouser leg.

He had actually been scared incontinent.

Seeing this, Su Ji frowned in disgust.

He had thought that even if this City Lord of Anyang wasn't a formidable hero, he would at least have some backbone.

He didn't expect him to be such trash.

Consequently, the thought of finishing the opponent off with a sword strike, which had just risen, faded away.

In the end, he was just a mortal whose mind had been consumed by power, unworthy of even a second glance.

So, with a casual wave of his sword, he shattered the opponent's Golden Core from a distance.

He then withdrew his gaze, prepared to turn and leave, leaving this mess for the grateful citizens to handle themselves.

It was at this moment.

That ancient soul-thought resonated in his mind once again.

"Go to the City Lord's Manor."

"Slash my corpse."

"This matter deserves a conclusion."

Hearing this, Su Ji raised an eyebrow but did not respond.

He slowly lowered his figure, his feet once again stepping onto the messy flagstone ground.

He walked toward the direction of the City Lord's Manor at an unhurried pace.

Along the way, there were many citizens still kneeling in worship.

Seeing him move, they consciously retreated to both sides, opening a path for him.

They remained kneeling on the ground, heads raised, watching him with a gaze bordering on fanaticism.

In their eyes, every step Su Ji took seemed to land on some profound, mystical node, his figure blending seamlessly with this dim world, unfathomably deep.

In reality, Su Ji was just trying his hardest to control his legs, which had turned to jelly. His steps were a bit crooked.

The aftereffects of burning his Dao Foundation were kicking in.

But he had to maintain the demeanor of an expert. He couldn't blow his cover.

...

Inside the City Lord's Manor, it was empty.

Relying on the faint guidance of that soul-thought, Su Ji passed through several corridors and finally stopped in front of an unremarkable study.

He pushed open the door, and a stale, moldy smell hit him in the face.

The furnishings in the study were simple. The only thing that caught the eye was a massive bookshelf in the corner.

Su Ji walked to the bookshelf and, following the soul-thought's instruction, turned an inconspicuous porcelain vase.

Rumble—

The bookshelf slowly slid to the side, revealing a dark entrance leading underground.

He did not hesitate and stepped inside.

The secret passage wasn't long. After about a hundred steps, the view before him suddenly opened up.

It was a spacious underground stone chamber. Dozens of luminous pearls were embedded in the surrounding walls, emitting a soft glow that lit up the entire chamber as bright as day.

In the center of the stone chamber sat an ice coffin carved from a single piece of Cold Jade.

Through the semi-transparent lid, one could clearly see a person lying inside.

The man was dressed in black robes, his features handsome, eyes closed tight, and his expression peaceful, as if he were merely asleep.

If not for the complete absence of any life force, no one would associate him with the word "corpse."

"You've come?"

The ancient soul-thought echoed in the stone chamber, carrying a tone of relief.

"Use Chanting Wind and cut me down."

Su Ji sized up the flawless corpse inside the ice coffin.

"This corpse of yours looks more like a living person than I do."

"Is it a bit of a pity to just chop it up like this?"

Hearing this, the soul-thought actually let out a light laugh.

"Blame me. I was practically dead, yet I insisted on keeping that stinking habit of wanting a proper burial."

"I kept thinking about leaving a whole corpse, which is what led to today's situation."

The tone of the soul-thought shifted, carrying a hint of self-mockery.

"Of course, I was just joking. There's really nothing to feel guilty about."

"I wasn't the one who killed them, after all."

"To put it bluntly, at my level of cultivation, very few people still care about the lives of mere mortals."

"What happened today... well, since I'm already dead, consider it a rare act of benevolence on my part."

Su Ji's mouth twitched slightly as he listened to these words.

This guy really was a pragmatist.

"Alright, kid, let's not waste any more time."

"My remnant soul can't suppress my physical body for much longer."

"Before I go, let me leave you with a few words."

Su Ji tightened his grip on the Singing Wind Sword and listened in silence.

"You haven't truly inherited my legacy."

The voice of the soul fragment grew a shade more serious.

"You merely used tricks to mimic a fraction of its likeness."

"The so-called 'Battle Soul' is not simply about burning your Dao Foundation and lifespan; it is a conviction."

"A conviction to grow stronger as you fight, to rise with every setback, to conquer or die, and to find life in the face of death!"

"You fear death. That is why, when you burned your Dao Foundation just now, you still held a trump card in your heart. You had a way out."

"You did not truly place yourself in a desperate situation."

"Therefore, what you borrowed was ultimately just the hollow 'Form,' not the true 'Might'."

Su Ji's pupils constricted slightly.

He knew the other was telling the truth.

The reason he dared to act that way was precisely because he had the Orange Destiny, [Winds of Death], as his final safeguard.

"The true 'Might' can only be comprehended when you have exhausted every means and still cannot break the deadlock, yet possess a reason why you absolutely must win."

"Something that wavers in the face of life and death cannot be called conviction."

The voice of the soul fragment carried a trace of distant melancholy.

"However... I hope your life will be smooth sailing."

Su Ji remained silent.

He understood the implication behind those words.

To need that power meant falling into a truly hopeless situation.

Never needing it would be a blessing.

"Alright, I've said all I need to say. Do it."

Su Ji slowly raised the Singing Wind Sword.

Cold light flowed along the azure blade, reflecting his impassive face.

He did not hesitate in the slightest.

He raised his hand and brought the sword down.

"I'm off then."

The voice of the soul fragment grew faint, finally dissipating completely within the stone chamber, leaving not a trace of sound behind.

The entire stone chamber returned to a deathly silence.

The Night King had completely vanished from this world.