This was the sacred artifact bestowed upon him by the gods, the very thing that had allowed his people to survive.
And with the power of the gods, he too had lived for a thousand years.
For a thousand years, he had remembered the gods’ kindness. He had never killed anyone, offering his devotions every day and giving thanks to Heaven.
He had truly believed that he could remain happy like this forever.
But ten years ago, the star chart had begun to flicker, revealing that the last thread of hope for Wutong Stronghold would be severed by someone.
His current body survived only through divine power, and he could not leave the stronghold. So he had continued to wait.
He waited for the person destined to sever that last thread of hope to appear, so he could trap them.
He absolutely would not let Xiyu take Zhuohua away.
The dagger Fu Ye held against Lu Zhixing’s neck trembled slightly. It had even scraped through his skin, and droplets of blood were beginning to seep out. It seemed that in the next instant, Fu Ye might slit his throat and sever his lifeline.
At that moment, Xiaoyu quietly approached Lu Zhixing, reaching for his hand. But in the next instant, a heavy blow struck him in the back.
Xiyu sneered. “You dare touch my people? You’re asking for death.”
A mortal barely clinging to life had actually dared to threaten him—and even hurt someone under his protection.
Xiyu gripped Liuyun, and his next whip lashed straight toward Fu Ye.
Fu Ye’s eyes widened. He was flung against the wall and abruptly spat out a mouthful of blood.
……………….
With a twist of his whip, Xiyu hooked Lu Zhixing and Luo Chengan, pulling both of them toward him and shielding them behind his back.
Xiaoyu staggered to his feet and ran over to Xiaohua, bursting into loud sobs. “Big Brother, it hurts!”
Xiaohua knitted his brows tightly. He raised a hand to summon Zhuohua, while simultaneously channeling spiritual power into the gravely wounded Fu Ye to preserve his life. At the same time, he watched Xiyu warily from the foot of the steps.
Xiyu held Liuyun in his hand. The golden bone whip lay on the ground, radiating a faint divine glow. His gaze was as cold as ice as he stared at Zhuohua in Xiaohua’s hands.
Under the influence of Zhuohua’s spiritual power, Fu Ye’s bloodless face gradually regained some color. Supporting himself against the wall, he struggled to his feet. His eyes filled with fear as he looked at Xiaohua.
“Hurry… hurry and kill him!”
Xiyu’s power was far greater than he had imagined. He truly hadn’t wanted to kill Xiyu in the first place; he had only intended to use Zhuohua’s spiritual power to restrain him. But now, that was no longer an option.
Someone this powerful posed a threat to his entire people if he were allowed to survive.
Xiaohua frowned. “We can’t kill people.”
“He has to die!” Fu Ye gritted his teeth. Crouching down, he gripped Xiaohua’s shoulders. “If he doesn’t die, even more people will!”
Xiaohua’s fair little face scrunched up tightly.
Xiaoyu rubbed his sore bottom and snapped in a delicate voice, “Big Brother, what are you hesitating for? Hurry up! He dared to hit me. I want him dead—dead as can be!”
Xiaohua hesitated and dragged his feet. At last, some of the coldness in Xiyu’s eyes eased.
“Come on,” Xiyu drawled lazily. “Let me see how capable you’ve become.”
Xiaohua flipped his hand, manipulating Zhuohua into the air. But because he was extremely reluctant, his movements were slow. He even tried to persuade Xiyu as he worked.
“As long as you surrender peacefully, I can let you—”
“Enough nonsense. Bring it on.”
As he spoke, Xiyu pushed Lu Zhixing and Luo Chengan into a corner and set up a protective barrier around them to keep them from being injured in the fight.
Then Xiyu soared into the air, launching a fierce attack straight at Zhuohua.
Standing on the steps, Xiaohua controlled Zhuohua. But in the next instant, the ferocious assault forced him to take a step backward. He froze for a moment, then clenched his hand tightly.
Lu Zhixing watched Xiyu, bracing himself against the wall. He could barely remain standing. Blood was still seeping from his neck, and a wisp of black mist was emerging from the wound.
The two of them were sealed inside the barrier. The battle outside could not reach them, which also meant Xiyu failed to notice anything unusual about Lu Zhixing right away.
Luo Chengan ran his hand along the barrier and looked toward Xiyu with an infatuated expression. He stared blankly for a while before turning to Lu Zhixing. Seeing the demonic aura leaking from the wound on his neck, he smiled with unmistakable malice.
Silently, he mouthed the words, You’re out of the game, Zhiyue.
Although he didn’t know why Zhuohua was being controlled by Xiaohua, he could tell that Xiaohua was no match for Xiyu.
The people of Wutong Stronghold relied on Zhuohua’s spiritual power to survive and thought that made them so extraordinary.
Xiaoyu watched Xiyu’s moves and blinked, looking somewhat bewildered.
However, he soon stopped watching Xiyu and instead stared at the back of his own hand. Before Lu Zhixing had been knocked away by Xiyu, a drop of blood from Lu Zhixing’s neck had landed there.
Beside him, Fu Ye’s face was as pale as paper. Even though he knew nothing about magic, he could tell that Xiyu was fighting as though a cat were playing with a mouse. Xiyu could clearly kill Xiaohua with a single exertion of strength, yet he seemed to be merely playing with him.
Apart from the first blow, which had been somewhat heavy, every subsequent move seemed more like Xiyu was deliberately giving Xiaohua pointers, letting him learn through the fight.
Meanwhile, Xiaohua’s expression grew increasingly grave.
After an unknown length of time, Xiyu finally seemed to lose patience. His long whip hooked around Xiaohua’s waist and hurled him hard against the wall.
At the same time, Zhuohua’s arrow, which had been entangled in combat with Xiyu, let out a resonant hum and returned to rest on its rack.
Xiaohua fell to the ground, his little face pale. As Xiyu approached, his entire body displayed an extreme terror.
An inexplicable terror, with no apparent reason.
Such familiar moves. Such familiar spiritual power.
Xiaohua gritted his teeth. “Who… are you?”
Xiyu walked slowly up to him and looked down from above.
“With so little ability, you dare betray your master?” Xiyu paused, then slowly uttered two words. “Zhuohua.”
Xiaohua’s expression changed drastically. He stared at Xiyu in disbelief.
“L-Lanxing Divine Venerable…”
Xiaohua’s voice trembled violently. His tone was unusually high, filled with an overwhelming, almost unbelievable joy.
No wonder. No wonder he had felt that Xiyu was familiar from the very first moment he saw him.
No wonder the moment his arrow shaft faced Xiyu, it had become timid and afraid.
Even among the gods, there were few who could stand against it.
Even without anyone controlling it, it could drive those who coveted it into a panicked retreat.
Yet when facing Xiyu, it had instinctively lowered its head, wanting to submit.
So it was its master.
It was actually its master!
Xiaohua kept asking, “Divine Venerable, it really is you… Divine Venerable…”
“It’s me.” Xiyu gave him a definite answer.
Xiaohua’s lips trembled. “But you perished… I thought…”
He stopped mid-sentence, looking at Xiyu. His heart tightened, and he hurriedly explained, “I wasn’t doing anything bad. I was trying to…”
“I know.” Xiyu interrupted him. Crouching down, he patted Xiaohua on the head. “You’ve worked hard for the past thousand years. Leave the rest to me.”
After speaking, Xiyu turned to look at Xiaoyu, whose expression was guarded. His voice was as cold as ice.
“Chen Yu—”
Xiaoyu took a step backward. The face that had always been so charming and lively was now shrouded in gloom.
The thing he had searched for so long had been right in front of him all along.
No wonder he hadn’t been able to discern the true forms of Xiaohua and Xiaoyu.
It turned out that both of them had extracted their sword spirits and entered puppets to walk among the living.
Zhuohua was Xiyu’s natal magical artifact, and its master’s obsession had been imprinted upon it.
Zhuohua had ended up in Wutong Stronghold because Xiyu had already known that Chen Yu was there. After Xiyu’s death, Zhuohua had fallen into the stronghold to suppress Chen Yu.
At first, when Xiyu saw Xiaohua manipulating Zhuohua, he hadn’t been certain that Xiaohua was a fragment of Zhuohua’s sword spirit. It was only when he heard Fu Ye call it by the name Zhuohua that he became certain.
How could an ordinary mortal, who had relied on Zhuohua’s spiritual power to prolong his life for a thousand years, know the artifact’s name so precisely? The only explanation was that Zhuohua itself had told him.
There was also Fu Ye’s earlier statement that if Xiyu didn’t die, more people would. What he meant was that if Xiyu took Zhuohua away, Chen Yu would no longer have anyone to suppress him, and he would wreak havoc upon the mortal world.
Fu Ye even knew this. It seemed that Zhuohua and he must have been quite close.
Still, Zhuohua hadn’t gone astray. It had understood that no matter what, it must never take a life indiscriminately.
The reason Zhuohua hadn’t recognized Xiyu earlier was that its sword spirit had been separated from it. Now that it had recognized him, Xiyu could safely leave the rest to himself.
As soon as Xiyu finished speaking, Zhuohua’s arrow suddenly emitted a dazzling burst of light.
Fu Ye was the only mortal present. The brightness was so intense that he couldn’t open his eyes. He stumbled backward several steps, shielding his face with his sleeve.
The barrier in front of Lu Zhixing and Luo Chengan was also shattered by the surge of spiritual power.
When the golden light faded, Xiaohua and Xiaoyu had disappeared. Only two puppets remained on the ground, and Zhuohua had fallen before Xiyu.
But at that very moment, a sword with a pitch-black hilt and a blade shrouded in an aura of ferocity, resembling a blooming red lotus, suddenly shot toward Lu Zhixing.
Xiyu’s pupils contracted sharply. He didn’t even have time to retrieve Zhuohua before rushing straight toward Lu Zhixing, shouting, “Zhiyue!!!”
Something was wrong.
How had Chen Yu’s barrier suddenly broken?
With Zhuohua suppressing him for a thousand years, Chen Yu’s seal should not have weakened.
Unless… the new Demon Venerable had used blood as a catalyst to break the seal.
The moment this thought crossed Xiyu’s mind, he saw Chen Yu break through the barrier and dart into Lu Zhixing’s hand like a fish slipping into water, settling obediently into his grasp.
Hearing the name “Zhiyue,” Lu Zhixing’s pupils contracted sharply. His hand trembled so violently that he could barely hold the sword. He raised his crimson eyes and looked at Xiyu.
“What did you just… call me?”
…………………
Mist billowed across the sky above Wutong Stronghold.
The demons who sensed danger immediately began screaming.
“A demon! It’s a demon! A demon!”
“Run! There’s danger! Run!!!”
The demons who had lived peacefully in Wutong Stronghold for hundreds of years immediately fled in panic.
Sang Biao suddenly jolted awake. An overwhelming pressure made his fur stand on end. He hurriedly jumped out of bed and was just about to look for Fu Ye when he saw Fu Ye staggering out of the secret chamber, muttering to himself, “No… no… You can’t die.”
“Fu Ye! Fu Ye!” Sang Biao hurried after him.
Inside the secret chamber, the moment Zhuohua sensed the demonic aura, it immediately flowed around Xiyu’s arm like a ribbon of clouds.
Liuyun and Zhuohua intertwined, radiating wisps of golden light.
With his natal magical artifact returned to him, Xiyu’s spiritual power surged dramatically. The features around his eyes and brows began to change.
At last, the Lanxing Divine Venerable had truly returned to the world.
And the Soul-Separation Spell on Lu Zhixing shattered before his eyes like paper.