Chapter 6511 - 6520
“I possess the Great Luo Golden Scripture.”
The flames shifted from purple to gold, golden runes emerging from beneath his skin, forming a pale golden shield around him.
Dragon patterns faintly flowed across the shield, radiating an ancient and majestic aura.
“I possess the power of chaos.”
The golden runes were once again engulfed by the purple flames, the two powers merging within him to form a third color—a deep, almost black, purple.
“I possess the cultivation of a sixth-grade True Immortal.”
He spoke this with a calm tone, as if stating an undeniable fact. “In the Sixteenth Heaven, those so-called peak ninth-grade True Immortals are nothing more than larger ants before me. Whether it’s Venerable Han Yuan or Wei Pengkun, killing them requires no second sword strike.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but every word resonated deeply.
It wasn’t boasting, arrogance, or bravado; it was the confidence forged through countless life-or-death battles, the understanding gained after traversing mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
This understanding was ingrained, becoming part of his instincts, so when he spoke it, it was as natural as saying “the sun rises in the east.”
Qingqiu remained silent.
She knew Kai was telling the truth.
The power of chaos restrained all other powers—immortal power, demonic power, monster power, holy light—no power could gain an advantage before chaos.
The physical body cultivated by the Great Luo Golden Scripture was indestructible, and combined with his cultivation at the sixth rank of True Immortal Realm, Kai truly had no rivals in the Sixteenth Heaven.
Those so-called peak ninth-rank True Immortal Realm cultivators were like paper before the power of chaos, shattering with a single blow.
More importantly, she knew she couldn’t stop him.
Once such a person made up his mind, not even the collapse of the sky could stop him.
“Young Master, but the Ten Thousand Demon Ridge needs you.”
Gui Yuanzi was still unwilling, his voice almost pleading, “The army of the Heavenly Supreme Venerable will be at the city gates in at most half a month. If you are not here, the Ten Thousand Demon Ridge will be leaderless…”
Kai interrupted him.
“Gui Yuanzi.”
He walked up to Gui Yuanzi and patted his shoulder.
His hand was steady, and the warmth from his palm gradually calmed Gui Yuanzi’s trembling. “The Heavenly Venerable’s army will need another half month to assemble. I’ll return to the Sixteenth Heaven, a round trip of seven days at most. I will return within seven days.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Gui Yuanzi’s bloodshot eyes. “Tell me, can Wan Yao Ridge hold out in seven days?”
Gui Yuanzi opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Seven days, Wan Yao Ridge could certainly hold out.
Qing Qiu was here, along with the sect leader of the Qingyun Sword Sect, the deputy sect leader of the Wanfa Sect, and their Gui Yuan Sect. These people could easily resist for a few days.
Seven days?
More than enough.
“Seven days,”
Qing Qiu spoke.
She slowly walked to Kai’s side, her white robes fluttering in the air, her long hair cascading down like a waterfall.
Her face was still somewhat pale, but her fox-like eyes had regained their former sharpness. “I can give you seven days. Within seven days, whether you rescue that woman or not, you must return.”
She paused, her voice now carrying an undeniable air of authority. “The Heavenly Venerable will not give you any more time. If he attacks prematurely, although Ten Thousand Demon Ridge can be defended, the cost will be significant.”
Kai nodded. “Seven days is enough.”
He didn’t say “thank you,” didn’t say “I will definitely return,” didn’t say anything superfluous.
He simply nodded slightly to Qingqiu, then turned and walked out of the hall.
Gui Yuanzi took two steps after him, then stopped.
He knew that once the young master made a decision, no one could stop him.
The only thing he could do was kneel down and kowtow three times to Kai’s retreating figure.
The young man’s silhouette stretched long at the hall’s entrance, the rays of the three blazing suns bathing him in a pale gold light, turning his azure robe a pale gold. The
Dragon-Slaying Sword at his waist trembled slightly, a wisp of purple light flowing across its blade.
The figure stood tall and straight like a pine tree, his steps steady as a mountain, walking step by step towards the secret realm.
Qingqiu watched his back, silent for a long time.
No one knew what she was thinking at that moment.
Perhaps she was thinking of her own spirited self from years ago, perhaps she was worried about her daughter’s future, or perhaps she was simply touched by something about this young man.
“Let’s go,” she said softly, turning and walking towards the back mountain. “The opening of the void passage will take time.”
The back mountain of the Demon Emperor’s Palace.
This was a forbidden area, not even allowed for demon elders to enter without permission.
A hundred-foot-wide open space was paved with black jade.
These jade stones were not ordinary stones; they came from the deepest veins of the Seventeenth Heaven, each piece containing fragments of spatial laws.
The surface of the jade stones was covered with densely packed runes, the patterns ancient and complex, some like twisted snakes, some like birds with outstretched wings, some like the sun, moon, and stars.
A faint silver light flowed between the runes, the purest spatial power.
In the center of the open space, a three-foot-high stone platform stood silently. The stone
platform, made of an unknown material, was entirely black yet emitted a faint luster.
Engraved on it was an even more complex magic array: forty-nine ring-shaped runes, nested layer upon layer, each rune composed of thousands of tiny spiritual patterns.
This was an interdimensional teleportation array left behind by a powerful being from the ancient Wan Yao Ridge, said to be a masterpiece completed over a century by the Demon Emperor, who gathered seventy-two grandmasters of array formations from the demon race to facilitate communication with other realms .
Qingqiu stood before the stone platform, taking a deep breath.
She slowly raised her hands, interlacing her fingers to form an ancient hand seal.
White spiritual light surged from her palms, pure and without a trace of impurity. The light flowed like water, slowly pouring into the magic array on the stone platform. Her spiritual power poured out without restraint, so quickly that her face paled several breaths. She knew very well how much this level of interdimensional array consumed her, but she did not hesitate. Because Kai did not hesitate. The first rune lit up, its silver light spilling like mercury. Then came the second, the third, the fourth—forty-nine ring-shaped runes lit up in a mysterious order, each light accompanied by a deep hum. The sound wasn’t like a musical instrument, but rather like the resonance of the laws of heaven and earth, like space itself chanting.
The silver light grew brighter and brighter.
When the last rune was lit, the entire back mountain was illuminated as if it were daytime.
The light on the stone platform was so bright that it was impossible to look directly at it, but Qingqiu’s eyes did not blink, and the hand seals on her hands kept changing.
She was manipulating the runes, guiding them to operate on the correct path.
Space began to distort.
The air in the center of the magic circle was first compressed, and then suddenly expanded outwards, forming a pitch-black vortex.
The vortex was only three feet in diameter, but it gave people a feeling of unfathomable depth.
Starlight flickered faintly within the vortex.
These weren’t stars in the sky, but rather gaps between different spatial planes, entrances to the endless void.
An ancient and desolate aura surged from the vortex—the aura of the void itself, an existence more ancient than any world.
“The void passage has opened.”
Qingqiu slowly withdrew her hands, her voice paler than before, fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead. “It can only last thirty breaths. Any more, and I won’t be able to hold on.”
She paused, then added, “The exit of the passage is in the Northern Wilderness of the Sixteenth Heaven, about a thousand miles from the Divine Alliance’s main hall. This distance won’t alert their restrictions, nor will it allow you to travel too far.”
She took out a silver-white token from her robes and handed it to Kai. “Use this token when you return.”
The token was about the size of a palm, its material resembling jade but not quite, and it felt cool to the touch.
The front of the token was engraved with a nine-tailed fox, and the back with an intricate rune.
When Kai received the token, he could clearly sense the spatial power it contained. It was Qingqiu who had injected it to create a kind of spatial connection between them.
“Infuse your spiritual power into the token, and I will sense it in the Ten Thousand Demon Ridge and open the passage for you again. But remember…”
Qingqiu looked at him, her voice suddenly becoming serious, “The passage can only be opened once. The power contained in this token is only enough to support one interdimensional teleportation. If you encounter danger in the Sixteenth Heaven, use it to return. But if you are safe, stay there and continue your battle. Understand?”
Kai carefully put the token away, storing it in the deepest part of his storage ring. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Qingqiu shook her head.
She remained silent for a long time. The wind blew through her long hair, and the white strands fluttered in the void.
She seemed to want to say something, but in the end, she just looked into Kai’s eyes and said, word by word, “Come back alive. I cannot live without you.”
She paused, “I have just tasted the pleasures of being a woman, and I don’t want to taste them only once.”
Kai knew very well the weight of these words coming from the mouth of a fox queen.
He didn’t say much, only nodded solemnly, “I will. After I return, I will let you taste the pleasures of being a woman every day.”
Then he turned and walked towards the void passage. His
cyan robe fluttered in the wind.
The Dragon-Slaying Sword at his waist emitted a deep hum, the purple light on its blade growing brighter and brighter.
His steps were not fast, but each step was firm, like a king marching to the battlefield.
Gui Yuanzi stood at the edge of the passage, his eyes red with anxiety.
He took two steps forward, then stopped, then took two more steps forward, then stopped again, “Young Master! Are you really going? I’ll go with you!”
His voice was almost a roar.
“No.” Kai didn’t turn his head, his voice as calm as an ancient well, “Ten Thousand Demon Ridge needs you. You stay here and help His Majesty guard this place. This is an order.”
Gui Yuanzi’s steps suddenly stopped.
An order.
The young master said this was an order.
He stood there, as if nailed to the spot.
He watched Kai’s figure recede into the distance, watched the figure reach the edge of the void passage, watched Kai raise his right foot and step into the dark vortex.
The void passage suddenly contracted, and the vortex, as if coming to life, swallowed Kai’s figure whole.
Purple light intertwined with the dark void, then gradually faded.
The silver runes extinguished one after another, from the last to the first, in perfect order.
After all forty-nine ring runes had dimmed, the stone platform returned to its original state, as if nothing had happened.
Only Qingqiu and Guiyuanzi remained on the empty ground.
Guiyuanzi knelt on the ground and kowtowed three times in the direction where the void passage had disappeared.
His forehead struck the jade ground with a thud, “Young Master, you must come back alive…”
His voice choked, and tears welled up again.
Qingqiu stood behind him, gazing at the empty sky, silent for a long, long time.
The three blazing suns still hung high, casting golden light on her white robes.
But she felt no warmth.
“He will return,” Qingqiu whispered, as if speaking to Guiyuanzi, yet also to herself. “This kind of person has a tough life.”
…
The Sixteenth Heaven, the Northern Wasteland.
The sky was bluish-gray, like a rusty iron plate, heavily pressing down on the earth.
Two moons hung high, one silvery-white like frost, the other dark red like blood. The light of the two moons intertwined, dyeing the earth an eerie silver-red, like a pool of congealed blood. A
faint smell of decay permeated the air, the traces of tens of thousands of years of war, slaughter, and enslavement, long since seeped into every inch of soil and every wisp of wind in this land.
The wasteland was deathly silent.
Apart from the sound of the wind, there was nothing.
The spirit beasts that once inhabited this place had long since vanished, and the spirit herbs that once grew here had long since withered.
The Divine Alliance had ruled the Sixteenth Heaven for so many years, squeezing this land clean, leaving only desolation and ruin.
Suddenly, the space above the wasteland abruptly tore apart.
It didn’t open slowly, nor did it crack quietly; rather, it was blasted open from within by a domineering force.
A pitch-black fissure appeared out of thin air, like a wound cleaved by an invisible giant sword, stretching for tens of feet.
Purple flames burned along the edges of the fissure, leaping in the void and distorting the very space. Then, a beam of purple light shot out from the fissure.
The light wasn’t dazzling, but it carried a suffocating sense of oppression.
The moment it burst forth from the fissure, the wasteland within a hundred miles trembled.
The rubble on the ground bounced up, the air emitted a sharp buzzing sound, and the two moons in the sky seemed to dim slightly.
The light landed on a low hill in the wasteland and slowly dissipated.
A figure stood steadily atop the hill. He wore
a long blue robe, a long sword at his waist.
His figure was as upright as a pine tree, his shoulders as steady as mountains.
The wind blew his robes, making a rustling sound, but he remained motionless, like a stone statue that had stood there since ancient times.
He raised his head, revealing his cold and stern face, with features as sharp as if carved by a knife and axe, and distinct angles.
Most striking were his eyes, not the usual black or brown, but a pair of purple pupils, deep as a bottomless abyss, within which chaotic energy flowed.
A faint purple aura surrounded him, its light understated yet terrifying to behold.
It wasn’t a deliberately released pressure, but a natural aura—the aftershocks
of chaotic power flowing within him .
These mere aftershocks exerted immense pressure on the surrounding wasteland, stretching for hundreds of feet.
Fine cracks appeared in the ground, as if it had been crushed by some invisible force.
All impurities in the air were expelled, forming a pure spatial realm.
The Dragon-Slaying Sword hung at his waist, the ancient patterns on its scabbard gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
The sword trembled slightly, emitting a low hum—the sword spirit was excited, sensing its master’s change, sensing the power several times greater than before.
Kai closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
The spiritual energy of the Sixteenth Heaven surged into his meridians.
Thin, indeed thin, more than ten times weaker than the Seventeenth Heaven.
Fragments of laws were pitifully few, almost negligible.
But he knew this air, this aura, every inch of this land intimately.
Free Valley.
The Divine Alliance.
Black Rock Prison.
Crimson Flame Prison.
Northern Underworld Prison.
Every inch of this land bore his footprints.
Every city held his enemies.
Every battle was stained with his blood.
He had been hunted, wanted, and besieged here.
His comrades had died here, his body shattered here.
Now, he had returned.
He slowly opened his eyes. In his purple pupils, there was no anger, no killing intent, only absolute calm.
That calm was more chilling than any violent killing intent, for it meant that everyone who stood in his way had already been sentenced to death in his heart.
The power of chaos circulated within him, an invisible wave spreading outwards from him.
His divine sense spread like a tide, covering a radius of a thousand miles.
Every stone, every inch of land, every wisp of wind in the Northern Region of the Sixteenth Heaven was within his perception.
He sensed many auras.
Some were dense, like the direction of the Divine Alliance’s main hall, where holy light converged into a golden ocean, its nauseating sacred aura permeating hundreds of miles.
Others were faint, scattered throughout the wasteland, hidden in deep mountains, concealed in caves—the remnants of the lost soldiers of Freedom Valley, the survivors of the Spirit Race, those cultivators suppressed by the Divine Race yet still holding onto hope.
His divine sense swept across the Divine Alliance’s main hall, penetrating layers of restrictions, reaching its very depths.
Then he sensed that aura.
Very faint. So faint it was almost extinguished, like a candle flickering in the wind.
That aura contained too many things: pain, exhaustion, despair, but the core remained—that indomitable spirit, that person’s will, still waiting.
Jiang Xuelan.
She was still alive.
Kai withdrew his divine sense, a cold glint flashing in his purple eyes.
The next moment, he leaped into the air.
No gathering of power, no hand seals, no use of any techniques.
He simply touched the ground with his toes, and his entire body transformed into a purple streak of light, piercing the sky.
The speed was extreme, leaving only a faint purple afterimage on the wasteland.
The afterimage vanished in less than a breath, and he himself had disappeared into the horizon, flying towards the direction of the Divine Alliance’s main hall.
The speed was so fast it tore through the air.
A sharp sonic boom exploded in the air, like countless thunderclaps simultaneously roaring.
His flight path forcefully cleaved through the clouds, creating a straight passage filled with lingering purple chaotic energy.
On the ground, several rogue cultivators hidden in the valley were secretly cultivating.
They heard the earth-shattering sonic boom and looked up, only to see a purple streak of light flash across the sky, moving so fast they could only see a faint purple ray.
“What…what was that?” a young cultivator asked in a trembling voice.
The older cultivator squinted for a long time, his expression suddenly changing.
His lips trembled, and after a long pause, he uttered two words.
“Chen…Ping.”
…
The Great Hall of the Divine Alliance.
Brightly lit and bustling with activity.
The entire hall covered thousands of feet, constructed entirely of white spirit jade, with countless pearls inlaid on the roof, illuminating the hall as if it were daytime.
The pillars inside were carved with the achievements of the Divine Race, vividly depicting their suppression of all races, their rule over the sixteen heavens, and their spread of the Holy Light.
Every mural spoke of the power and majesty of the Divine Alliance.
The hall’s protective barrier remained open 24/7, nine layers of golden light enveloping the entire space. Countless runes flickered on the barrier, radiating powerful defensive energy.
The plaza was densely packed with Divine cultivators, numbering three thousand, all clad in armor and wielding weapons. Holy light swirled around them, turning the entire hall into a golden sea.
Wei Pengkun sat on a golden throne.
The throne, three zhang high, was cast from pure gold, its back inlaid with nine fist-sized stones of light.
From the throne, the entire hall was laid out before him. He was the leader of the Divine Alliance, the helmsman of the strongest force in the Sixteenth Heaven, commanding hundreds of thousands of cultivators and countless powerful warriors.
Here, he was the supreme king.
But at this moment, his thin fingers were tapping rhythmically on the armrests, producing a monotonous, dull thud.
The voice echoed through the hall, causing all the standing cultivators to feel an inexplicable sense of oppression.
Wei Pengkun’s expression was uncertain.
His brows were furrowed, his eyes were puffy, and his eyes were bloodshot. He hadn’t slept for many days.
The two Supreme Elders had gone to the Seventeenth Heaven, and no news had returned for a long time.
His greatest threat, Kai, although his physical body had been destroyed by the two Supreme Elders, his soul was sealed in the Soul-Suppressing Pearl.
As long as his soul remained, he wouldn’t be at ease.
“Alliance Leader.”
A Divine Race cultivator strode into the hall, his footsteps echoing through the hall, carrying a hint of urgency.
The cultivator’s face was pale, and he knelt on the ground, his forehead pressed against the cold floor tiles.
“A scout from the Northern Border has sent an urgent report.”
His voice trembled. “A purple streak of light is flying towards the main hall at an incredible speed. When the scout saw it at Huiyan Peak, it was still 500 li away. But just as he finished writing the urgent report, the light was already within 300 li.”
The main hall fell into a deathly silence.
All the standing cultivators stopped what they were doing, and all the elders raised their heads.
The golden holy light continued to flicker, but for some reason, the hall suddenly felt cold.
Wei Pengkun’s fingers, which were tapping the armrest, abruptly stopped.
His index finger hovered in mid-air, trembling slightly.
“Suspected of what?” His voice was cold, so cold it didn’t sound like it came from a living person.
“Suspected of…” The cultivator swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing three times, “Suspected of Kai.”
Kai.
These two words were like an ice knife, piercing everyone’s hearts.
Wei Pengkun’s face instantly turned deathly pale.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto the golden throne.
Kai?
Impossible.
Kai’s physical body had been shattered by the combined efforts of the two Supreme Elders, and his soul was sealed within the Soul-Suppressing Pearl, taken to the Seventeenth Heaven.
How could he possibly return to the Sixteenth Heaven with his physical body intact?
But if that wasn’t Kai, then who was it?
In the Sixteenth Heaven, who would dare to brazenly fly towards the Divine Clan Alliance Hall?
Especially with that purple light— Kai’s signature color.
Wei Pengkun abruptly stood up, his golden robes billowing without wind. “Pass down the order! All troops on alert! Activate all restrictions! Immediately activate the ultimate form of the Mountain-Protecting Array!”
He practically roared the command. “No matter who comes, anyone who trespasses into the Divine Clan Alliance Hall will be killed without mercy!”
“Yes!”
A long horn sounded in the hall, the voice deep and urgent, carrying a sense of oppression that made all the Divine Clan cultivators uneasy.
The order spread throughout the hall at top speed.
On the plaza, three thousand elite members of the Divine Race swiftly formed ranks, golden holy light emanating from each cultivator, illuminating the entire plaza in a dazzling glow.
Layer upon layer of restrictions were activated—not nine, but twelve.
This was the ultimate defensive form of the Divine Race Alliance’s main hall; twelve layers of holy light shields, each composed of hundreds of runes, were enough to withstand a full-force attack from a first-grade Golden Immortal.
The shields grew thicker and thicker, the golden light intensified, and the runes flashed wildly, enveloping the entire hall completely, making it impenetrable.
These twelve layers of restrictions were the foundation accumulated by the Divine Race Alliance over tens of thousands of years, never fully activated since the hall’s founding, because it had never encountered an enemy requiring their complete activation.
But today was different.
Because Kai had arrived.
Wei Pengkun stood before the throne, staring at the sky outside the hall, his heart pounding as if it would burst from his chest, but he suppressed his fear, not letting anyone see it.
He was the leader of the Divine Race Alliance, the ruler of the Sixteenth Heaven; he could not panic.
The atmosphere within the hall grew increasingly oppressive. An elder couldn’t help but speak up: “Alliance Leader, perhaps it’s just a prank by some rogue cultivator, perhaps the scouts were mistaken. Kai’s physical body has already been…”
“Shut up,”
Wei Pengkun interrupted him.
His voice was as cold as ice.
Because the purple light had already appeared at the edge of the sky.
It wasn’t a beam of light, it was a shooting star, a shooting star that was swooping down.
It trailed a long purple tail, shattering all the clouds along its path.
The tail was hundreds of feet long, leaving a straight purple trail in the sky that lingered for a long time.
The speed was unimaginable; one moment it was a hundred miles away, the next it was within ten miles.
The entire Divine Clan Alliance Hall trembled.
It wasn’t an earthquake, but the oppressive feeling brought by that light was too strong.
The twelve layers of restrictions simultaneously emitted a piercing buzz, and the runes on the light shield flickered wildly, as if sensing some kind of destructive threat.
The Divine Clan cultivators on the square began to tremble involuntarily, their weapons clanging in their hands.
They were well-trained, but in the face of this oppressive feeling, thousands of years of training became a joke.
The purple light landed precisely on the plaza directly in front of the main hall.
As the light faded, a figure appeared within the encirclement of three thousand elite divine warriors. He
wore a pristine blue robe, spotless and immaculate. A long sword hung at his waist, its scabbard ancient, the blade shimmering with a faint purple light.
He stood on the jade pavement of the plaza, his figure tall and imposing, like a mountain. His face
was cold and stern, possessing a composure beyond that of ordinary people. Most striking were his eyes. A pair of purple eyes. That purple was not ordinary purple; it was the color of chaos, the color of the beginning of heaven and earth. Purple light flowed within his pupils, like two bottomless purple abysses. No one could read anything from those eyes—no anger, no killing intent, not even emotion. Only an absolute, despairing calm. A semi-transparent purple aura surrounded him. That aura was serene, so serene it was almost inanimate. Yet, it was this very stillness that caused the twelve layers of protective barriers to tremble. The golden aura shattered before his aura, as fragile as paper. His cultivation was at the sixth rank of the True Immortal Realm. In the Divine Alliance’s main hall, where True Immortals were commonplace, this might not seem particularly high. Yet, none of the three thousand elite Divine Race warriors dared to step forward. They sensed something—a fear emanating from the depths of their souls, the instinctive reaction of a rabbit encountering a tiger, the despair of prey seeing its hunter. That sixth-rank True Immortal Realm cultivation, for some reason, was far more terrifying than any ninth-rank peak True Immortal they had ever seen. Kai. It really was Kai. Wei Pengkun stood in the main hall, looking through the aura at the lonely figure in the plaza, his face ashen. His lips trembled, his fingers trembled, even his heart pounded. “You…you…how could you…” His voice was hoarse, filled with disbelief, “Wasn’t your physical body destroyed? Wasn’t your soul sealed? How could you possibly…” Kai didn’t answer him. He didn’t even look at Wei Pengkun. He simply raised his right hand, palm up. A wisp of purple flame danced in his palm. The flame, only the size of a fist, was incredibly bright, casting a purple glow on his face. The flame’s temperature was unbelievably high, distorting the surrounding air and creating visible ripples. The flickering of the flame was almost inaudible, yet each flicker caused the twelve layers of restrictions to tremble. The flame was unassuming; it could even be described as still. But within that stillness lay a destructive power. The Chaos Flame, capable of suppressing all power in the world. Kai raised his eyes, looking at Wei Pengkun. His gaze was calm, a calmness that sent chills down one’s spine. “Where is Jiang Xuelan?” He uttered six words.
No threat, no roar, no emotional fluctuation. His voice was as calm as asking about the weather.
But those six words almost stopped Wei Pengkun’s heart.
Because he heard the meaning hidden within that calmness—a death sentence, a greeting from the Grim Reaper.
Kai wasn’t asking where he was; he was giving him a chance to leave his last words.
Wei Pengkun clenched his teeth.
His teeth ground together, veins bulging on his forehead.
He used all his willpower to keep from collapsing.
” Kai,” he squeezed out through clenched teeth, each word trembling, but he forced himself to speak, “You think you can break into the Divine Alliance’s main hall alone? There are three thousand elites here! Twelve layers of restrictions!”
His voice grew louder, as if using volume to mask fear, “You, a sixth-grade True Immortal, even if it really is you, so what? Do you still think this is the same place as before? You…”
He didn’t finish his sentence.
Because Kai moved. No one saw how he drew his sword.
The instant the Dragon-Slaying Sword was unsheathed, a purple sword beam burst forth from its blade.
The beam wasn’t long, only about three feet, but it was extremely condensed, its purple light as dazzling as a small sun.
There were no fancy moves, no complex sword techniques, no earth-shattering phenomena, only a pure, condensed, and incredibly fast purple blade of light.
The blade swept out horizontally.
When it touched the first layer of the protective barrier, it made no sound.
The golden holy light barrier was like ice and snow encountering the scorching sun, unable to withstand even a moment’s resistance, silently melting away.
Chaotic fire danced on the blade, directly devouring the power of law contained within the golden holy light.
The second layer.
The third layer.
The fourth layer.
Each layer of the barrier shattered in the exact same way; the moment the purple blade touched the golden barrier, it collapsed silently, like a paper lantern being cut open by a knife.
The runes on the light shield flickered wildly, attempting to repair the damage, but the chaotic power had already devoured the laws themselves, making repair impossible.
Fifth layer.
Sixth layer.
Seventh layer.
The speed of the light blade didn’t decrease at all; instead, the speed at which the restrictions shattered increased.
When the eighth layer of restrictions shattered, the three elders responsible for controlling the formation simultaneously coughed up blood.
Their meridians were shattered by the backlash, and their internal organs were churning.
Ninth layer, tenth layer, eleventh layer.
The light blade swept through everything in its path; the restrictions were like paper. The twelfth layer of ultimate defense couldn’t even withstand three breaths before Kai.
The moment the twelfth layer of restrictions shattered, the entire hall shook violently.
The core of the formation maintaining the restrictions exploded, shattering into thousands of fragments.
The elders controlling the formation collapsed to the ground, spitting blood, and the few with the lowest cultivation levels died instantly.
The light blade continued forward.
It swept over the divine cultivators who had rushed out of the plaza.
There were no screams, no wails, no clanging of weapons.
Only a patch of golden light drifted in the air, the traces of holy light being burned by the chaotic fire.
Hundreds of elite members of the divine race, each a powerful figure at the seventh or eighth rank of the True Immortal Realm, capable of dominating a region in the Sixteenth Heaven,
couldn’t even withstand a single sword strike, turning into nothingness within the purple light blade.
The light blade continued its momentum, sweeping across the massive stone pillar in front of the hall.
The pillar, as thick as seven people could encircle, was covered with reliefs depicting the achievements of the divine race, and under the purple light blade, it was silently severed in two.
The break was smooth as a mirror, without a single burr, as if cut by the very laws of heaven and earth.
Wei Pengkun’s expression completely changed.
He finally understood why the two Supreme Elders hadn’t returned, while Kai had.
He turned and ran. He
ran without regard for anything else.
The dignity of the alliance leader, the glory of the divine race, the demeanor of a king—all became a joke in his heart.
All he wanted now was to survive, to escape this place, to get as far away as possible.
He activated his half-step Golden Immortal level movement technique, transforming into a golden streak of light and shooting towards the depths of the main hall.
Kai didn’t chase after him.
He didn’t even look in the direction Wei Pengkun had fled.
He simply sheathed the Dragon-Slaying Sword and then slowly ascended the steps.
His pace was slow, even deliberate.
Each step landed steadily on the jade steps, the sound echoing in the deathly silent plaza.
Three thousand elite members of the Divine Race parted to make way for him, three zhang away. No one dared to block his path, no one dared to step forward.
The cultivators’ legs trembled, their weapons clanged in their hands, their eyes filled with undisguised fear.
Kai walked among them like a king passing through a court.
No, not a king; even kings have to consider the expressions of their subjects.
He was the Grim Reaper, every step he took reaping lives.
Whether they knelt or not, whether they submitted or not, they all trembled before him.
He entered the main hall.
The divine cultivators inside the hall retreated like a receding tide.
Dozens of elders, hundreds of deacons, and hundreds of guards—not one dared to make a move.
They retreated, desperately retreated, retreating to the walls, behind the pillars, and into the corners of the hall.
Some trembled, some prayed, and some fainted from fright.
Kai’s gaze swept across the hall, as calm as if he were surveying his own territory.
“Where is Jiang Xuelan?” he asked again.
A divine cultivator pointed tremblingly to the back of the hall.
His fingers trembled so much he could barely point, his voice broken: “In…in the dungeon…in the dungeon behind the hall…”
As soon as he finished speaking, he collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
Kai didn’t look at him, walking straight through the hall towards the dungeon at the back.
He walked calmly, his back ramrod straight.
His azure robe stood out starkly against the golden light of the hall, like a purple sword slicing through a golden sea.
No one dared to follow, no one dared to utter a sound.
Only rapid breathing and the sound of teeth chattering filled the hall.
Only after Kai’s figure disappeared into the depths of the hall did an elder slide down to the ground, his body drenched in cold sweat.
“He…he’s back…”
That word “he” was more terrifying than the word “death.”
The dungeon of the Divine Alliance was located at the deepest part of the hall, dozens of feet underground.
The passage leading to the dungeon was a narrow staircase, no more than three feet wide, allowing only one person to pass at a time.
The walls on both sides of the passage were cast from extraterrestrial meteorite iron, three feet thick, and covered with sealing runes.
Every seven steps there was a rune; some were the holy light restrictions of the ancient divine race, others were sealing spells of the Yin-Yang School, layered upon each other, transforming the entire passage into an impenetrable cage.
There were no lights in the passage, but the runes on the walls emitted a pale golden glow.
The light was cold, bone-chillingly cold, like a chill seeping from the very marrow of one’s bones.
The air was thick with a damp, decaying stench, and a faint, almost impenetrable odor of blood.
It was the residue left by countless prisoners in the dungeon—sweat, blood, tears, and the desperate breath of their dying moments.
At the end of the passage stood a door two zhang high.
Forged from a single piece of extraterrestrial meteorite iron, its thickness was astonishing; it was impossible to push open.
The door was covered with a dense array of restrictions—not ordinary restrictions, but seven layers of superimposed seals.
Each seal represented a different law, laid down by seven elders at the ninth rank of True Immortal Realm, each layer interlocking with the others. Breaking one layer would trigger the backlash of the other six.
The seven elders took turns day and night to maintain the seals.
These seven seals required the power of a Golden Immortal to forcibly open.
In this Sixteenth Heaven, Golden Immortals were practically legendary beings, so this door had never been opened from the outside.
But now, someone had come.
Kai stood before the door.
His purple eyes swept over the complex sealing runes, his gaze as calm as if he were looking at a few scraps of paper.
He didn’t study the restrictions, didn’t deduce a way to break them, didn’t use any tricks.
He simply made a movement.
He reached out and grasped the lock.
The lock was forged from ten-thousand-year-old cold iron, with a core rune the size of a thumb engraved on its body—the control hub of the seven layers of seals.
The lock head was icy cold, gleaming with a chilling blue light in the darkness.
Chaotic fire surged from his palm.
The purple flames spread from his hand to the lock, burning through the seven layers of restrictions one by one.
There were no earth-shattering sounds, no violent fluctuations of spiritual energy, only the faint hissing sound of flames burning gold paper.
The first layer of restrictions was like thin paper in the face of the chaotic fire, instantly curling, charring, and shattering.
The second layer, the third layer—the flames climbed the patterns of the restriction runes, burning along the direction of the flowing light, disintegrating the sealing structure constructed by those laws from the inside.
The moment the fourth layer of restrictions shattered, a blinding white light erupted in the passage—the backlash from the forced breaking of the seal.
But before that power could spread, it was devoured by the chaotic fire.
The fifth and sixth layers—the flames burned ever brighter, illuminating the entire passage with purple light.
The holy runes on the walls began to melt, flowing down like candle wax.
The seventh and final layer of restrictions—a seal left by an ancient god, containing the power of laws at the Golden Immortal level.
It withstood the chaotic fire for three breaths before shattering like an eggshell.
Seven layers of restrictions, fourteen breaths, all destroyed.
Kai flicked his wrist, and the lock, forged from ten-thousand-year-old cold iron, shattered into iron dust.
The door collapsed with a deafening crash, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
Behind the door was a small, damp, cold, and utterly dark cell.
There was only one lamp in the cell, the oil nearly burned out, a tiny flame, smaller than a bean, flickering on the wick.
The dim light barely illuminated a corner of the cell.
In the corner lay a pile of moldy straw, upon which sat a figure.
She wore a long white dress, but it was tattered beyond recognition. Her
exposed arms were so thin they were almost skin and bones, her skin covered in countless scars—whip marks, burns, and scalds left by some kind of magical artifact.
Her hands were bound by a jet-black chain, extending from the wall and securing her firmly to the cold stone.
The chain was engraved with sealing runes, constantly emitting a ghostly blue light.
Each flash of that light drained a portion of her spiritual energy to maintain the seal.
Her face was as pale as paper, her lips cracked and bleeding. Her
once flowing black hair was now disheveled, obscuring half her face.
She huddled in the corner, as if trying to shrink herself to ward off the cold.
Hearing the door collapse, she slowly raised her head. Her
disheveled black hair slid down, revealing a thin, stubborn face.
Her lips trembled, her eyes brimming with tears, yet she stubbornly held them back.
Those eyes, which should have been bright and full of life, were now covered with a layer of gray despair, like ashes that had burned away all light and heat.
Then she saw the person in the doorway.
A long blue robe, a long sword at his waist, his figure as upright as ever.
His purple eyes shone brightly in the darkness; the light wasn’t cold, but warm, like a purple sun, dispelling all the chill and despair in the dungeon.
A faint purple aura surrounded him, not dazzling, but illuminating all the fear in her heart.
Jiang Xuelan froze.
” Kai…”
her lips trembled, her voice almost inaudible, ” Kai…is that you? Am I dreaming?”
Kai didn’t speak.
He strode forward, each step firm and steady.
He crouched down and reached out to grasp the God-Locking Chain. Sensing the intrusion, the sealing runes on the chain suddenly erupted with a blinding, eerie blue light, attempting to resist.
But chaotic fire surged from Kai’s palm, instantly incinerating the runes and the chain together into ashes.
The chain snapped and fell to the ground with a crisp clang.
The sound of the sealing runes shattering echoed in the cell, like some shackles finally being broken.
Jiang Xuelan’s hands were free again, two deep bloody gashes on her wrists, the skin chafed raw by the chains, revealing the pink flesh beneath.
Ignoring the pain, she threw herself into Kai’s arms, her thin arms tightly embracing his back, as if trying to melt into his body.
Her body trembled violently, not from the cold, but from the release of emotions that had been suppressed for so long.
“I thought you were dead… I thought you’d never come back…”
Her voice was broken, choked with sobs. “Those divine cultivators talk outside the dungeon every day, saying your physical body is destroyed, your soul is sealed, that your life is over… They talk about it every day, they laugh every day… I thought… I thought…”
She couldn’t go on, she just buried her face in his chest and cried loudly.
It wasn’t a soft sob, not a suppressed tear, but a heart-wrenching cry.
She cried out all her grievances, fears, and despair.
All the tears she had held back in imprisonment, all the pain she had suppressed in torture, all the bitterness she had carried alone in despair, all poured out at this moment.
She cried so hard that she was trembling, so hard that she couldn’t catch her breath, so hard that her voice was hoarse.
Her tears soaked Kai’s clothes, but he seemed not to notice.
Kai didn’t speak.
He just held her.
One hand around her shoulder, the other gently patting her back.
The movement was light and slow, yet it carried a reassuring power.
The power of chaos formed a thin layer of light that enveloped her, warm, safe, and shielding her from the chill of the dungeon.
A very, very long time passed.
Jiang Xuelan’s sobs gradually subsided, from wailing to sobbing, and from sobbing to choking.
She raised her head, looking at Kai through teary eyes.
Her eyes were red like a rabbit’s, her face was streaked with tears, and her lips were still trembling slightly, but a glimmer of light had appeared in her eyes.
“Your cultivation… how come it’s only at the sixth rank of True Immortal Realm?” Her voice was still weak, but there was a hint of doubt in her tone, “You weren’t before…”
“It’s a long story.”
Kai raised his hand and gently wiped away her tears with his knuckles, “We’ll talk about it when we get back. Now, I’ll take you out first.”
He stood up and picked Jiang Xuelan up.
Her body was very light, unbelievably light.
After being imprisoned in the dungeon for so long, her spiritual power was sealed, her physical body was weak, and even her bones felt lighter.
She wrapped her arms around Kai’s neck, pressing her face against his shoulder. Through the fabric of his blue robe, she could feel the warmth of his body.
Her eyes welled up again. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I’m back.”
Kai’s voice was as calm as ever, but Jiang Xuelan sensed something beneath that calm.
They had fought side by side for so long; he didn’t need to say more, she understood everything.
“Hold me tight.”
Purple chaotic energy formed a protective shield around them.
Kai strode out of the dungeon, walked through the rune-covered passage, passed through the empty hall, and returned to the plaza.
The plaza was even more spacious than when he entered.
He had casually killed off a group of the three thousand elite Divine Race soldiers with a single sword strike, but during his time in the dungeon, Wei Pengkun had gathered even more men.
The plaza surrounding the hall was once again filled with Divine Race cultivators, densely packed, numbering in the thousands.
Their holy light merged into one, dyeing the sky gold.
Although he had shattered the twelve layers of restrictions, new temporary restrictions had been set up, layer upon layer of golden light enveloping the entire hall.
While not as strong as the previous twelve layers, it was still enough to give a True Immortal Realm Ninth Grade expert a headache.
Wei Pengkun stood at the very back of the crowd.
He had donned his golden armor again, gripping the Spirit-Slaying Holy Sword in his hand.
But his lips were white, his hands trembled, and his eyes were uneasy.
He hid behind a group of elders and guards, not daring to face the young man holding the woman.
His voice trembled, but he still tried to maintain the last shred of dignity: ” Kai, do you think you can leave here alive? This is the Divine Clan Alliance Hall, the power center of the Sixteenth Heaven!
You can kill a hundred people, a thousand people! But I can summon even more! Your True Immortal Realm Sixth Grade spiritual power is ultimately limited, do you think you can…”
Kai interrupted him.
“Three thousand?”
The corners of his mouth slightly curled up, revealing a very faint arc.
It wasn’t a smile, but a condescending indifference.
His voice was calm, so calm that it sent chills down the spines of everyone who heard it.
“Not enough.”
The words had barely left his lips when he drew his sword.
This time, everyone saw clearly how he drew it.
Because he deliberately made them see it.
The Dragon-Slaying Sword slowly emerged from its sheath, the purple light on its blade gradually intensifying, spreading from the hilt to the tip.
The purple light wasn’t blinding, yet it made everyone squint.
Chaotic power condensed, compressed, and condensed again on the sword, finally transforming into a hundred-foot-long purple sword beam.
That sword beam spanned the heavens and earth, hanging high above the plaza, like a purple divine punishment hanging over everyone’s heads.
The first strike landed.
The purple sword beam swept across the plaza, melting away the golden holy light like ice and snow wherever it passed.
The armor, weapons, and flesh of hundreds of divine cultivators shattered.
There were no screams, no wails; everything happened in silence.
The chaotic fire devoured everything, turning holy light, spiritual power, divine souls, physical bodies, armor, and weapons into nothingness.
Hundreds of people were killed with a single sword strike, leaving nothing behind but a scattering of golden light in the air, like a silent golden snowfall.
The second sword strike descended.
Another hundred-foot-long sword beam swept across.
This time, even before the sword beam landed, the sheer sharpness of the sword energy caused hundreds to lose their footing.
The lower-level Divine Race cultivators were directly blasted away by the sword energy, tumbling and crashing into their companions in the air.
The sword beam followed closely, slicing them, along with their weapons, their formations, and their restrictions, into fragments.
Hundreds more died.
The third sword strike descended.
The last batch of Divine Race cultivators finally collapsed.
They were not the lowest-ranking soldiers of the Divine Race; each one was a carefully selected elite, each one had experienced countless battles.
But at this moment, their will was utterly destroyed.
Some began to flee, some knelt down to surrender, and some collapsed to the ground trembling.
But the purple sword beam did not stop; it swept across, devouring everything in its path.
In less than ten breaths,
three thousand elite soldiers were completely annihilated.
Only one person remained standing in the square—Wei Pengkun.
Standing amidst the mountain of corpses and sea of blood, Wei Pengkun trembled violently.
His golden armor was splattered with the blood of his comrades, and his Spirit-Slaying Holy Sword lay broken in two on the ground.
His legs were weak, his knees trembled, and finally, he collapsed to the ground.
He looked up at the boy holding the woman, his eyes filled with indescribable terror.
Ten breaths.
Three thousand elite soldiers, all dead.
This was not a battle; this was a massacre.
“Any last words?”
Kai walked up to him, looking down at him.
His purple eyes were unwavering, as if he were looking at an ant.
Wei Pengkun’s lips trembled, his teeth chattered.
He wanted to say something, but only gurgling sounds came from his throat.
After a long silence, he finally managed to squeeze out a few words: ” Kai, you can’t kill me. I am the leader of the Divine Alliance. If you kill me, the Divine Race will not let you off. The two Supreme Elders are Golden Immortals, they will…”
“They are already dead.”
Kai’s voice was calm, as if he were talking about something insignificant. “Besides, even if they were here, they couldn’t save you.”
He raised the Dragon-Slaying Sword, its tip pressed against Wei Pengkun’s chest.
Wei Pengkun’s eyes widened, his pupils reflecting the purple sword light.
He felt the aura of death, something more primal than any power, chaos, nothingness, the end of all living beings.
He opened his mouth, wanting to beg for mercy, to negotiate, to threaten, to say anything that could save his life.
But Kai didn’t give him any more time.
The sword tip gently extended.
Chaotic fire surged from the sword, engulfing Wei Pengkun.
Purple flames spread from his chest, devouring flesh and blood, holy light, and even his soul.
Wei Pengkun let out a piercing scream, a sound that pierced the hall, the plaza, and the clouds.
His body twisted, struggled, and dissipated in the flames.
The power of holy light was like ice and snow before the blazing sun, unable to withstand it for even a moment.
In less than a breath, the screams ceased abruptly.
Wei Pengkun, the leader of the Divine Alliance, the helmsman of the strongest force in the Sixteenth Heaven, who had commanded hundreds of thousands of cultivators and ruled the Northern Region for tens of thousands of years, had turned into a pile of ashes. A gust of wind blew by, scattering the ashes and leaving nothing behind.
Kai sheathed the Dragon-Slaying Sword, glanced at the pile of ashes drifting in the wind, and turned to walk out of the hall.
Behind him, the Divine Alliance Hall began to collapse under the burning of the chaotic fire.
Golden holy runes exploded in the flames, reducing the array built up over tens of thousands of years to ruins. The exquisitely carved murals and statues symbolizing the glory of the gods were all engulfed by the flames.
The flames soared into the sky, dyeing the entire sky golden-red, and the towering fire could be seen for hundreds of miles around.
Jiang Xuelan, clinging to his back, looked at the sea of fire behind them, her lips moving slightly, “He killed…how many people…”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,”
Kai’s voice was calm. “What matters is that no one else will die.”
He leaped up, transforming into a purple streak of light, carrying Jiang Xuelan as they flew towards Freedom Valley.
The purple streak of light pierced the sky, illuminating the night sky of the Northern Wilderness.
Behind them, the Divine Alliance’s main hall slowly collapsed in the sea of fire. The roof crumbled, golden tiles raining down, crashing onto the plaza with dull thuds.
The Divine Alliance, which had ruled the Sixteen Heavens for tens of thousands of years, was utterly annihilated at this moment.
…
Freedom Valley.
The ruins lay silent in the vast twilight, like a gigantic skeleton.
The once bustling valley was now nothing but broken walls and rubble.
Most of the stone walls had collapsed, their charred surfaces bearing the marks of swords and axes.
The city gates were gone, leaving only two crooked pillars, still bearing the marks of the divine light’s scorching heat—remnants of the great battle months ago.
The air was thick with the smell of scorched earth and decay, mingled with a faint stench of blood.
The wind swept through the ruins, swirling ashes and dust like countless silent sighs.
The city’s stone halls, wooden houses, training grounds, and meditation rooms were all reduced to ruins.
The meticulously carved stone pillars lay askew, their broken ends covered in moss.
Broken weapons and dried bloodstains lay scattered across the training grounds, the blood now a deep brown, seeping into the cracks in the stones, seemingly never to fade.
Skeletons lay scattered throughout the ruins, some belonging to Free Valley warriors, others to divine cultivators.
They were indistinguishable, lying there silently, exposed to the wind and rain.
To the east of Free Valley once stood the Elder Council, where the most sturdy stone hall had also collapsed halfway.
The remaining stone wall bore the motto of Freedom Valley: “Give me liberty or give me death.”
Three of the five characters had been burned away by holy light, leaving only the word “no liberty.”
The nunnery to the south had completely collapsed, and wild grasses grew from the cracks in the rubble, swaying in the twilight as if mourning the lives lost.
Kai carried Jiang Xuelan onto the ruins.
He looked around and remained silent for a long, long time.
He remembered the day he first came to Freedom Valley.
Back then, the valley was brightly lit, filled with cultivators and laughter.
Lin Yuan greeted him at the city gate, a burly man laughing like a child.
A tall, thin man dueled with others in the martial arts arena, refusing to admit defeat when he lost.
Old Zhao carried a bowl of wine around, seeking out drinkers and boasting to everyone that Freedom Valley’s spirit wine was the best in the world.
A middle-aged woman busied herself in the kitchen, bringing out bowls of steaming spirit valley porridge, never mincing words, but filling everyone’s bowl to the brim.
Old Xu dozed off in the library, studying the jade slips; Zhao Tieshan taught the new recruits swordsmanship in the training ground, demonstrating again and again until he was drenched in sweat.
Their voices and smiles were still so clear, as if he had seen them just yesterday.
But they were all gone.
To protect this land, to keep the flag of Freedom Valley flying under this sky, to protect their comrades, to protect him, they fell one by one. Never to wake again.
Kai clenched his fists.
His nails dug into his palms, piercing his skin and drawing blood.
Purple blood dripped from between his fingers, staining the scorched ground purple.
But he seemed not to feel any pain. He just stood there, silently looking at the ruins, at his former home.
” Kai…”
Jiang Xuelan leaned on his back, her voice weak.
She felt his body stiffen for a moment, and she felt the almost uncontrollable emotions surging from within him, “Freedom Valley… are there any survivors?”
Kai closed his eyes.
He spread his divine sense outwards, the power of chaos transforming into invisible ripples that spread outwards from him in all directions.
A hundred miles, a thousand miles, two thousand miles in radius—his divine sense covered the entire Northern Region, penetrating mountains and dense forests, penetrating the depths of the earth.
His divine sense swept through countless corners, searching for those familiar, faint auras.
Then he sensed them.
In a valley in the wasteland, dozens of faint auras gathered together, their auras mixed with fear, exhaustion, and despair, yet they were still alive, still waiting.
Further into the deep mountains and forests, scattered auras hid deep within ancient trees, afraid to make a sound.
Deep within abandoned mine tunnels, several faint auras lay hidden underground, surviving by consuming the residual energy of spirit ore.
There were still people alive.
Kai opened his eyes.
“Yes,”
he said, his voice soft but steady, “and many more are still alive.”
He put Jiang Xuelan down from his back, letting her lean against a broken stone pillar.
The stone pillar still bore the marks of the holy light’s scorching, but it had cooled.
He took off his blue robe and draped it over her shoulders.
The robe still retained his body heat, and Jiang Xuelan wrapped it tightly around herself, the warmth relaxing her tense body.
“Wait for me here,” Kai said.
“Where are you going?” Jiang Xuelan’s voice was slightly panicked.
“I’m going to find them.” Kai turned, looking at the boundless wasteland in the twilight, “To bring the people of Freedom Valley home.”
Jiang Xuelan didn’t ask any more questions. She knew that no one could stop Kai from doing what he was going to do.
She also knew that he would definitely return. He had never let her down.
Kai leaped up, transforming into a purple streak of light, rushing into the vast twilight.
Deep in the Northern Wasteland, a hidden valley.
This valley was nestled between two high mountains, its entrance extremely narrow, allowing only one person to pass sideways.
The entrance was mostly blocked by collapsed boulders, covered with vines and shrubs, making it impossible to tell from the outside that a hidden world lay within.
In the valley, there was a small clearing with several dilapidated thatched huts.
Dozens of remnants of the Free Valley were hiding there.
They had been hiding here for so long that even they themselves probably couldn’t say for sure.
When they first arrived, they thought the gods would soon come knocking, and they lived in constant fear, taking turns keeping watch and daring not to close their eyes.
After several days, the gods didn’t come, and they began to wonder if they could ever return to Freedom Valley. After several more
days, their companions sent out to scout hadn’t returned, and they began to despair.
Later, they dared not send anyone out anymore.
Because every person sent out meant one less person.
Their clothes were already tattered, their once uniform battle robes reduced to scraps of cloth barely covering their bodies.
Everyone had wounds; some were dried wounds covered with black scabs; others were festering wounds, emitting a putrid stench.
Their weapons were incomplete; some swords had broken tips, some knives had chipped blades, and some were reduced to half a spear shaft.
Many people’s cultivation was regressing because without spiritual energy to replenish their strength, their bodies were being overworked.
Their eyes were filled with fear and despair.
Every day was filled with trepidation, ears perked up for any sound outside, terrified of hearing the horns of the gods’ search.
Every time the wind picked up and rustled the leaves, someone would reflexively grip their weapon.
Every night before falling asleep, someone worried whether they would wake up the next day.
They thought Freedom Valley was finished.
They thought Kai was dead.
They thought there was no hope left in this life.
Until someone saw that purple streak of light on the horizon. “What’s that?”
A sharp-eyed young cultivator was the first to notice. He stood at the valley entrance, looking at the sky through the gaps in the vines.
His voice drew the attention of the others, and everyone looked up.
A purple streak of light was flying in at incredible speed across the sky.
It trailed a long, fiery tail, seemingly splitting the sky in two.
The purple light wasn’t blinding, yet it possessed a captivating allure.
It paused for a moment in the sky, as if sensing something, then suddenly changed direction, flying straight towards the valley.
Its speed was too fast for anyone to react.
The purple light landed on the clearing in the center of the valley. The light dissipated, revealing a figure before everyone. He wore
a blue inner robe, his figure tall and straight. A long sword hung at his waist, its scabbard ancient and simple. His face was stern, and his purple eyes shone brightly in the twilight.
A faint purple aura surrounded him, a subtle yet warm glow that enveloped the entire valley.
Kai.
Everyone was stunned.
As if frozen in place, as if struck by lightning, as if witnessing a hallucination.
No one spoke, no one moved, no one could believe their eyes.
The valley was silent except for the sound of the wind.
A young warrior was the first to recover.
His lips trembled violently, and large tears welled up in his eyes.
He recognized that person, the one who had led them in battle, the one who had fought his way through the army of the gods, the one who had been besieged by two supreme elders of the gods and whose physical body had been destroyed in the end.
“Mr. Chen…?”
His voice trembled, incredulous yet filled with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. “Is it really Mr. Chen? Mr. Chen has returned?”
Kai looked at them, at his comrades covered in wounds, their eyes filled with fear, their clothes stained with blood.
His gaze swept over each face, some he knew by name, some he had only met a few times, some complete strangers.
But their eyes were the same, the eyes of those who had suddenly seen the light of dawn after a long and desperate ordeal.
He remained silent for a moment.
“I’ve come to take you home.”
Five words, calm and brief, as if stating something utterly ordinary.
But those five words brought tears to everyone’s eyes.
The young warrior knelt on the ground with a thud, trembling with sobs.
The old cultivator beside him pounded his chest, wailing as if releasing all the pent-up fear.
Two others clung to each other, weeping uncontrollably.
Some stood there, stunned, tears streaming silently down their faces.
Some knelt and kowtowed, their foreheads striking the cold earth, crying out, “Mr. Chen.”
“Mr. Chen, you’re alive…you’re really alive…”
An old cultivator with gray hair walked shakily to Kai, his eyes filled with tears, his voice hoarse like a leaky drum, “I thought…I thought I’d never see you again in this life.”
Kai reached out and supported the old man’s swaying body. “The Divine Alliance has been destroyed by me.”
All the weeping stopped abruptly.
The valley was silent for a moment, then erupted in chaos.
“Destroyed?!”
“The Divine Alliance has been destroyed? That forever superior Divine Alliance?”
“Where’s Wei Pengkun? Where’s that madman Wei Pengkun?”
Kai’s voice remained calm: “Wei Pengkun is dead, dead by my sword. The Divine Alliance’s main hall is now in ruins. From now on, no one will be able to bully you anymore.”
He spoke as if he were discussing the weather.
But no one thought he was exaggerating.
Because they saw his cultivation level: sixth rank of True Immortal.
When Kai was at the third rank of True Immortal, he was practically invincible in the Sixteenth Heaven.
Now, this cultivation level was enough to make him stand out among the heroes of the Sixteenth Heaven.
More importantly, they sensed something from him, something indescribable.
It was absolute confidence, not arrogance, not pride, but a confidence forged through countless life-and-death battles.
A person with this kind of confidence doesn’t need to speak loudly; every word carries the power of thunder.
The valley was silent for a moment.
Then, cheers erupted.
It was hope bursting forth from despair, the flame of life rekindled from the brink of despair.
Cries, laughter, and cheers mingled together, echoing through the valley.
People embraced, knelt on the ground, looked up to the sky, and wept bitterly.
Some knelt and kowtowed to Kai, others knelt and kowtowed towards the east, the direction of Freedom Valley.
“Freedom Valley is still here! We are not dead!”
“Mr. Chen is back! Mr. Chen is back!”
“Home! Home!”
Kai looked at them, his purple eyes showing no emotion.
But he raised his right hand, and a chaotic power condensed in his palm, transforming into a pale purple light shield that enveloped everyone.
“Let’s go,” he said, “back to Freedom Valley.”
In the following days, Kai traveled to every corner of the Northern Region.
He went to the deepest forests, stepping on wild grass taller than a person, pushing aside vines that blocked out the sky, searching in the darkest depths of the dense forests.
He went to the most dangerous cliffs, climbing the slippery rock walls, and found the remnants of the Spirit Clan who had been hiding in the caves for months.
Having explored the abandoned underground palace and found the Free Valley cultivators feeding on spirit ore residue in the underground passages dozens of feet deep,
he brought back a group of people, then another group, and yet another group.
Each time a purple streak of light appeared on the horizon, a new group of people appeared on the ruins of Free Valley.
They emerged from the mountains and fields, from the underground caves, and from the city of rogue cultivators.
More and more survivors gathered, and more and more people embarked on their journey home.
A continuous stream of people appeared on the wasteland—the former Free Valley members who had come from all directions, people who had heard ” Kai is back” and had emerged from their hiding places.
The news spread like wildfire throughout the Northern Region.
Cultivators of various races, once oppressed, enslaved, and hunted by the gods, emerged from their hiding places and converged on Freedom Valley.
Among them were rogue cultivators of the human race, remnants of the demon race, and survivors of the spirit race.
They were ragged and wounded, but their eyes held a long-lost light—hope.
On the ruins of Freedom Valley, houses began to be rebuilt.
Lacking tools, they salvaged usable materials from the rubble.
Lacking timber, they felled spirit trees in the mountains.
Lacking stone, they mined from abandoned veins.
Lacking iron, they dismantled broken weapons from the ruins and reforged them.
Lacking spirit stones, the resources Kai brought back from the divine alliance’s treasury were enough to support the entire reconstruction.
Stone halls, wooden houses, training grounds, and cultivation rooms—brick by brick, they were rebuilt.
No one complained, no one cried out in exhaustion.
Because everyone knew in their hearts that this time was different; this time, the gods would not return.
The city wall was the first to be repaired.
The stone wall that had been blasted down by the gods had been rebuilt, higher, thicker, and stronger than before.
The wall was covered with protective runes of the Daoist sect, carved by Kai himself.
Each rune contained the power of the laws of the Great Luo Golden Scripture, several times stronger than the defensive formation of Free Valley back then .
A protective barrier of chaotic power was also laid out, based on Kai’s cultivation level, with chaotic power constantly circulating, enough to withstand the full force of an attack from a Golden Immortal.
Kai stood on the city wall, watching all this.
Below him lay his rebuilt homeland, and in the distance stretched the vast northern wilderness.
The two moons still hung high in the sky, but today, their colors seemed less eerie.
Silver and red moonlight shone on the ruins of Free Valley, on the busy people, casting long, long shadows.
Jiang Xuelan stood beside him.
Her white robes had been replaced with clean ones, made of spirit silk that Kai had brought back from the Divine Alliance’s treasury.
Her face was still somewhat pale, but she could stand on her own. Her
spiritual power was slowly recovering, her wounds were healing, and while the damage to her soul still needed time to heal, it was no longer a major problem.
Fear and despair were gone from her eyes, replaced by a quiet resolve.
” Kai,” she said
, a slight smile playing on her lips as she looked at the busy people, “Have you found the Spirit Clan?”
“Yes,” Kai nodded. “Elder Qingxuan is still alive, and Feng Xue’er is still alive. There are still a few dozen remnants of the Spirit Clan hiding deep within the Myriad Spirit Ancient Forest. I’ve already sent people to retrieve them.”
Jiang Xuelan nodded, saying nothing more.
She simply watched the scene below the city, watching the people rebuilding their homes.
Free Valley was alive.The day Elder Qingxuan
was brought back to Freedom Valley was perfect.
Kai’s men arrived deep within the Myriad Spirits Ancient Forest and located the remnants of the Spirit Race who had been hiding there for months.
The Spirit Race, naturally close to nature, found it easier to survive in the forest than humans, but also harder to detect.
They hid in the crevices between trees and in underground root caves, blending their presence into the surrounding vegetation.
Initially, they dared not emerge, only cautiously revealing themselves upon hearing the name ” Kai.” Each was emaciated, yet their eyes shone brightly.
Elder Qingxuan wore a tattered gray robe, his white hair even whiter than before, his face more wrinkled, yet his eyes remained bright.
When he emerged from the forest and saw Freedom Valley being rebuilt in the distance, he stopped.
He stood there, tears streaming down his face, his body trembling slightly, as if about to kneel.
Kai personally greeted him at the city gate.
Elder Qingxuan broke free from the Spirit Clan disciples who were supporting him, strode to Kai, and knelt down.
His knees struck the stone slab with a dull thud.
Had Kai not reached out to steady him, his forehead would have hit the ground.
“Mr. Chen…”
His voice trembled, and cloudy tears streamed down his deeply lined cheeks, dripping onto the stone slab. “I thought… I thought I would never see you again in this life… The Spirit Clan thought… I thought we would never see you return…”
He wept like a child, a Spirit Clan elder who had lived for hundreds of years now prostrate on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
The remaining members of the Spirit Clan behind him also knelt down, dozens of them knelt on the ground, kowtowing to Kai.
Kai helped him up, supporting his arm to steady him. “Elder Qingxuan, the Spirit Clan is not dead.”
Elder Qingxuan raised his head, his cloudy old eyes filled with tears.
“As long as one person lives, the Spirit Race is not dead.”
Kai’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was as steady as a rock. “Elder, from now on, no one can hunt you down anymore.”
Elder Qingxuan nodded vigorously.
He raised his sleeve to wipe away tears, his cuff soaked.
He turned around and said to the remnants of the Spirit Race behind him, “The reconstruction of the Spirit Race begins today. Every brick, every tile of the reconstruction must remember who gave us this opportunity.”
The Spirit Race people responded in unison.
Feng Xue’er stepped out from the crowd. Her face was pale, and she was much thinner than before, but her eyes were still as bright as ever.
She walked up to Kai, didn’t kneel, but looked at him deeply, and then smiled.
“Mr. Chen.”
Kai nodded to her.
She turned and walked towards the Spirit Race’s area in the ruins, bent down, and picked up the first stone.
…
The news of the destruction of the Divine Alliance caused a huge uproar in the Sixteenth Heaven.
No one believed that the Divine Alliance, the strongest power ruling the Sixteenth Heaven, had been destroyed so easily, until someone saw the burning palace with their own eyes.
The palace had been reduced to a charred skeleton; its once magnificent golden roof had collapsed to the ground, the molten gold solidified into twisted shapes.
The once invincible Holy Light cultivators had all turned to ashes, leaving not even bones behind.
Only purple chaotic fire still flickered on the ruins, slowly devouring the remaining Holy Light power.
Those people stood before the ruins, looking at each other in disbelief.
“The Divine Alliance… is really destroyed.”
“Destroyed by one person.”
” Kai.”
These two words stirred up a storm in the Sixteenth Heaven.
Deepest in the ruins, Kai found the Divine Alliance’s treasury.
The treasury was hidden in the deepest part of the ruins, hundreds of feet underground, protected by seven layers of ultimate restrictions.
The chaotic fire used to destroy the palace had not spread here, but the seven layers of restrictions did not survive because of their strong defenses, but because their paths were too deep and too hidden, thus avoiding the fire.
These seven layers of restrictions were the most advanced protective formation of the Divine Alliance. Each layer contained holy light laws at the Golden Immortal level. Together, they formed a barrier that even a Golden Immortal could hardly shake.
The light of the restrictions flowed through the underground passage, radiating an awe-inspiring and inviolable pressure.
Any True Immortal cultivator who approached would be devoured by the holy light laws within the restrictions, their meridians severed, and they would die.
But Kai simply reached out and grabbed.
Chaos fire surged from his palm, transforming into seven purple fire dragons, each attacking one of the seven layers of restrictions.
These dragons were not large, only as thick as an arm, but they spewed the purest chaos fire from their mouths.
The moment the flames touched the restrictions, the holy light laws melted and collapsed rapidly, like thin snow meeting the scorching sun, without even a crisp sound.
The seven layers of restrictions held out for less than ten breaths before the chaos fire.
A heavy door slowly opened, revealing the true face of the treasure vault to Kai.
The vast space, hundreds of feet in diameter, had an extremely high dome, almost invisible at the top.
It was filled with resources plundered from the Sixteenth Heaven by the Divine Alliance over tens of thousands of years.
Mountains of crystals illuminated the entire treasure vault with multicolored light, making it as bright as day.
Rows of pills, jade bottles, jade boxes, and jade gourds were stacked on crystal shelves, their rich fragrance permeating the entire vault; a single whiff was enough to feel spiritual energy surging through one’s meridians. A dazzling
array of magical artifacts—weapons, armor, talismans, and spiritual treasures—radiated brilliant spiritual light.
Rows of cultivation manuals were embedded in the walls, ranging from the most basic True Immortal cultivation methods to Golden Immortal level secret texts; many of these manuals were yellowed with age, clearly ancient artifacts from tens of thousands of years ago.
Deep within the vault stood a solitary stone platform, upon which rested a black iron box.
The box had no restrictions, yet the aura it emitted was the oldest in the entire vault.
Kai walked over and opened the box.
Inside was an ancient jade slip, made of a peculiar material—not ordinary jade, but a black crystal he had never seen before.
Kai put the box away, intending to return to the Seventeenth Heaven and show it to Gui Yuanzi and the others.
He turned around, facing the mountain of treasure resources.
He no longer picked them up piece by piece, collecting them one by one, as he had done before.
He directly opened his storage ring and began stuffing in large quantities of crystals, pills, magical artifacts, and cultivation manual jade slips.
Tens of thousands of crystals, tens of thousands of pills, thousands of magical artifacts, and tens of thousands of jade slips—the accumulated wealth of the Divine Alliance over tens of thousands of years, enough for all the cultivators of Free Valley to cultivate for hundreds of years.
He collected them without hesitation, without any politeness, as if it were perfectly natural.
Because he knew that these things were the blood and sweat of the cultivators of all races in the Sixteenth Heaven.
How many people had the Divine Alliance killed, how much had they looted, to build this treasure trove?
These things should have been returned to the people of this land long ago.
Now, no one in the Sixteenth Heaven could rival him.
He could take all the treasure resources with him, take them to Free Valley, and take them to those who needed them.