Chapter 376

The news of the ancient formation's repair spread like a massive stone thrown into a calm lake, causing a great uproar in the Ninth Dao Institute and even the entire Spirit Realm Alliance.

But Wang Ping did not set off immediately.

He stood alone on the cliff edge behind the Ninth Dao Institute's rear mountain, gazing down at the surging sea of clouds, gazing at the faintly visible palaces and pavilions in the distance, gazing at the young cultivators shuttling among them. The sunset's afterglow fell, dyeing the whole institute a warm orange‑red.

Three years have passed.

Three years ago, he returned from the Law Corridor covered in wounds, carrying the smile of the Moving Mountain Ancestor in his heart and the bone‑deep hatred for the Pure World Court. After three years of seclusion, he entered the Nascent Soul Great Perfection, fused the chaotic origin, comprehended countless laws, and his strength surpassed that of before by more than tenfold.

But at this moment, he felt no joy at all.

Because this time, what he must face is a true Spirit God—not the fleeting glimpse he caught in the chaotic battle three years ago, but a confrontation that could decide life and death, the fate of the Immortal Palace, and the life and death of Youying.

What are you thinking about?

An aged yet gentle voice came from behind him.

Wang Ping did not turn around; he knew it was Jiang Mingyuan.

Thinking… he paused, then said softly, "If I don't make it back this time, what else remains unsaid?"

Jiang Mingyuan walked to his side, stood shoulder‑to‑shoulder with him, and gazed at the distant sea of clouds.

Are you afraid?

Wang Ping fell silent for a moment, then slowly nodded: "Afraid. Not afraid of death, but afraid… of dying without purpose. Afraid of failing to rescue Youying, of failing to defend the Immortal Palace, of letting down the years the Moving Mountain Senior bought with his life."

Jiang Mingyuan looked at him, a flicker of relief crossing his eyes.

Being able to say this shows you're no longer the hot‑headed kid who only knew how to charge forward back then. He raised his hand and patted Wang Ping's shoulder. "But, Ping'er, remember—fear is natural, but fear cannot be an excuse to retreat. True strength is not the absence of fear, but moving forward despite it."

Wang Ping turned his head to look at this elder who was like a teacher and a father to him.

In Jiang Mingyuan's eyes lay a complex emotion he had never seen before—relief, pride, reluctance, and a hint of worry.

Martial Uncle, I have a request.

Speak.

Wang Ping took out three jade slips from his bosom and presented them with both hands.

These are the things I've organized over the past three days. The first slip contains the publicly shareable intermediate‑advanced sections of the *Chaos Immortal King Forging Insights*; the second holds the deep analysis of the laws commonly seen in the Spirit Realm from the *Law Imprint Jade Tablet*; the third records my cultivation insights from the early Nascent Soul stage to the Nascent Soul Great Perfection, excluding the core mysteries of chaos.

He paused, then continued: "I wish to store these in the Legacy Secret Realm, set access permissions, so that future disciples with affinity and suitable temperament may study them. If I… do not return, at least these things can help the Spirit Realm cultivate a few more strong cultivators."

Jiang Mingyuan received the three jade slips, probed them with his divine sense, and after a moment his eyes flashed with shock.

Ping'er, these things… do you know how valuable they are?

Wang Ping nodded: "I know. That's exactly why I cannot let them disappear with me."

Jiang Mingyuan looked at him, remaining silent for a long time.

Then he slipped the jade slips into his bosom and gave Wang Ping a deep look.

Good. I will personally store these in the inheritance secret realm and personally set up the restrictions. Rest assured, these things will definitely end up in the hands of the most suitable person.

Wang Ping bowed and saluted: "Thank you, Martial Uncle."

Jiang Mingyuan waved his hand and suddenly said: "Anything else?"

Wang Ping fell silent for a moment, then took out another scroll of animal hide from his bosom.

That was the formation diagram he had drawn day and night over the past three days, densely filled with various formation patterns, runes, and annotations. Some areas had been erased and redrawn, redrawn and erased again, clearly having undergone countless revisions.

"These are several preliminary schemes I devised during my three-year seclusion, combining the Chaos Dao with formation principles. One scheme uses the Chaos Domain as a foundation to construct the Primordial Unity Binding Formation; another uses the Yin Moon Extinction Cold Tide as a guide to lay out the Ice-Seal Purification Formation; another combines the Heaven-Overturning Seal's suppressive power with spatial formations to conceive the Void Suppression Seal..."

He paused, then gave an embarrassed smile.

"I am not versed in formations; these are merely wild fantasies that may not be realizable. However, I have discussed them with Senior Tianyan, and he feels some of these ideas could be tried. So I am leaving these with him; if I do not return, please, Martial Uncle, pass them on to him so he can continue refining them."

Jiang Mingyuan took the animal hide scroll, unfolded it and glanced at it, his pupils contracting slightly.

Although the ideas on it were rough and immature, they contained creativity, a profound understanding of the laws, and a mindset that integrated the Chaos Dao with formations, causing even this Unity Stage great expert to feel amazed.

"Ping'er, these things..."

"Just a rough draft." Wang Ping hurriedly said, "It's still far from actual realization. But I think, the more ideas, the more possibilities. If the Spirit Realm truly goes to war with the Pure World Court in the future, perhaps they could be of use."

Jiang Mingyuan looked at him, his eyes full of complexity.

After a long while, he carefully rolled up the animal hide and stored it away in his bosom.

"Good. I, the old man, have remembered it."

The two stood shoulder to shoulder on the cliff edge in silence, watching the last ray of sunlight disappear into the horizon.

Night fell.

Wang Ping suddenly spoke: "Martial Uncle, there is one last thing."

He took out a palm-sized crystal from his bosom and presented it with both hands.

The crystal was entirely chaos-colored, its surface smooth as a mirror, with faint mist swirling inside. Within the mist, a tiny imprint could be vaguely seen—that was Wang Ping's own aura seal, a natal token condensed from his Chaos Power.

"This is my Chaos Token." Wang Ping's voice was calm, yet carried a barely perceptible tremor, "If I encounter mishap in the Immortal Palace or lose contact for a long time, this object can point the general direction."

Jiang Mingyuan received the crystal and gazed at the faint yet tenuous aura within.

He knew what that meant.

This meant that the child had already prepared for the worst.

"Ping'er..." his voice sounded somewhat hoarse.

Wang Ping raised his head, looked at him, and suddenly laughed.

That smile was calm and composed.

"Martial Uncle, I have cultivated for a hundred years and reached this point entirely thanks to your nurturing. If something unfortunate truly happens, I have no regrets. But..."

He paused, his gaze drifting toward the distant dark starry sky.

"But I have promised the Mountain-Moving Senior that I will avenge him; I have promised Youying that I will return to rescue her; I have promised Jiu'er that I will not let anyone harm her. These promises, I must fulfill."

Jiang Mingyuan looked at him, then after a long while nodded heavily.

"Good. I, the old man, will wait for you to return and personally tell me that you have fulfilled them all."

At the same time, behind the Heaven Sword Sect's mountain.

Cangxuan stood alone on the summit of a lone peak, holding a jade slip.

This is the inheritance he compiled last night—the Heaven Sword Sect's sword Dao insights, plus his comprehension of the 'Sword of Laws' from the Laws Corridor, and his insights from fighting side by side with Wang Ping over these years.

He left all of this to the Heaven Sword Sect.

The sect head looked at it, fell silent for a long time, then heavily patted his shoulder without speaking.

But Cangxuan knew the weight of that silence.

He raised his head, gazing at the star-filled sky.

In his mind, many images flashed—

The first time he met Wang Ping in the Qingming Heavenly Realm, they fought side by side; back then he thought this kid with a chaotic spiritual root was nothing special.

In the Chaos Immortal Palace, facing the rampage of the 'Primordial Chaos', Youying stepped forward, turned to look at them, and softly said, 'Go.'

Outside the Laws Corridor, the rift blasted open by the Mountain-Moving Old Ancestor with his life, his bold smile, his silent lip shape—'Brother, take care.'

And, over these years, each time they entrusted life and death to each other, each time they fought side by side.

He gripped his sword tightly, his gaze firm as iron.

'The Way of the Sword needs tempering; life and death are the best whetstone.'

He murmured, sheathed his sword, turned, and descended the mountain.

The Holy Land of the Fallen Immortal Clan.

Yuliuli knelt before an ancient shrine, before her were the spirit tablets of the Fallen Immortal Clan's ancestral masters.

She had knelt all night.

Behind her stood several white-haired old women, the elders of the Fallen Immortal Clan. They looked at this most outstanding junior of the clan, their eyes full of complex emotions—reluctance, worry, and pride.

'Liuli, have you really decided?' an old woman croaked, her voice hoarse.

Yuliuli didn't turn back, merely nodding lightly.

'Disciple has decided.'

She took out the Immortal Sound Bell, gently stroking it. Three years ago, this bell was near breaking; she spent five hundred years of her lifespan to repair it. Now it has regained its ethereal, distant glow.

'Disciple has organized the Fallen Immortal Clan's inheritance completely. Also, my insights into the Immortal Sound Dao over these years have been recorded on the jade slip.'

She paused, her voice slightly trembling.

'If I cannot return… please, elders, pass this inheritance to the most suitable person.'

Behind her, an old woman couldn't help but shed tears.

'Silly child, you…'

Yuliuli stood up, turned around, and looked at them.

A faint smile hung on her face. That smile was gentle yet firm, just like when she rang the Immortal Sound Bell three years ago.

'Elders, rest assured, disciple will return.'

She bowed deeply, then turned and left.

Behind her, the shrine's door slowly closed.

The fifth day, dawn.

In the valley where the ancient array lay, people had already gathered in crowds.

The cultivators of the Ninth Dao Institute, from Foundation Establishment to Nascent Infant, nearly all who could come had come. They stood afar, gazing at the massive transport array in the valley's center, at the five figures within the array, their eyes full of awe and reluctance.

Strong cultivators from various sects who heard the news also filled the crowd. There were sword cultivators of the Heaven Sword Sect, fairies of the Fallen Immortal Clan, inheritors of the Profound Ice Palace's ice soul, and thunder warlords of the Thunder Abyss Valley—some came to see off fellow disciples, others to witness this historic moment.

There were also some familiar faces.

Jiang Haiyun stood in the crowd, the Divinity Spirit stage instructor who three years ago saved Wang Ping; his face was grave, silent. Beside him stood Lei Wan Ting and Bing Yue Xianzi, both late-stage Divinity Spirit experts who had acted in that great battle, now also present.

Several disciples of the Tianyan Elder stood close together, gazing toward the ancient array. Their master remained in the Immortal Palace, life or death unknown; now they could only silently pray here.

Also Xuanji Zi, Qinglin, and Lei Shuo—teammates who once with Wang Ping carried out the Mo Yan Star mission. They gazed far at that familiar back, eyes full of complex feelings. They knew they lacked the qualification to go together, but their hearts had already flown with Wang Ping toward that distant void.

In the crowd, there was also an inconspicuous figure.

It was a young cultivator, appearing to be only at Golden Core stage, his visage immature, yet his eyes flickered with a resolve beyond his years. He stared at the dark cyan figure in the array, fists clenched tightly.

His name was Lin Yuan.

Three years ago, he was merely a lowly Foundation Establishment cultivator; during a tempering trial he encountered danger, and Wang Ping, passing by, casually saved his life. Back then Wang Ping didn't even glance at him a second time, merely saying lightly, 'Be careful,' before turning into a streak of light and departing.

But those words, that back view, left a deep imprint in his heart.

Three years later, he had entered the Golden Core stage. He trained desperately, striving to become strong, so that one day he could be as powerful as that senior, able to protect others.

Now, looking at Wang Ping's back, he silently thought:

'Senior, you must come back alive.'

At the center of the ancient array, five figures stood still.

Wang Ping stood at the forefront, wearing a dark cyan Dao robe, with the Chaos Star Command hanging at his waist, his aura restrained to the extreme. Three years of seclusion had subtly changed his demeanor—no longer the sharp-edged youth of before, but a true master who had returned to simplicity and authenticity.

His gaze swept toward the depths of the void. There, fragments of the Immortal Palace drifted, Youying slumbered, Jiu'er waited in fear, and Yunhao and the survivors struggled to endure.

'Wait for me.' he murmured.

Behind him stood four people.

Cangxuan, still clad in his black battle attire, long sword on his back, face stern. His aura was deeper and more restrained than three years ago, like a sheathed peerless divine sword. At his waist hung a jade slip—the inheritance he left last night, now lying quietly in the Heaven Sword Sect's inheritance secret realm.

Yuliuli, dressed in moon-white fairy robes, cradling a guqin, the Immortal Sound Bell hanging from its head. Her visage had returned to its original beauty, but her eyes held a few more depths of settled calm than three years prior. She gazed afar, her eyes tranquil, the corner of her mouth bearing a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

The Xuan Gui Venerable, a burly old man with a face like a dried jujube, now closed his eyes to nurture his spirit, a faint yellow light circulating around him. He is the defense specialist specially summoned by the Alliance, master of the 'Xuanwu True Art', famed as 'unrivaled in defense among peers'. Last night he passed his lineage to his sole disciple, who knelt before him, kowtowed three times, tears streaming.

Now he opened his eyes, looked at Wang Ping, and grinned.

'Young friend, rest assured; with this old man here, none can harm you in the slightest.'

Bai Cao Xianzi, a kindly old woman with snow-white hair, now gently stroking a sprig of green spiritual herb. She is the most renowned healing sage of the Spirit Realm, having saved countless lives throughout her life. Last night she compiled her lifetime's knowledge into a volume, leaving it to her closed-door disciple. That disciple knelt before her, weeping uncontrollably, while she merely smiled and stroked her head.

At this moment, she raised her head and looked at Wang Ping, her eyes full of kindness.

"Child, this old woman's life has already been long enough. This time, if I can rescue Youying that girl, if I can protect the survivors of the Immortal Palace, this old woman will die without regret."

Wang Ping looked at these two elderly seniors, and a feeling he could not put into words welled up in his heart.

They could have chosen not to come.

They could have spent their twilight years in peace in the Spirit Realm, using their remaining years to comprehend the Dao and train disciples, but they chose to come, to join a group of young people and rush onto that perilous unknown battlefield.

"Your righteousness, two seniors." Wang Ping bowed, "As a junior, I have nothing to repay you with, only……"

"Enough, enough." Profound Tortoise Venerable waved a hand, cutting him off, "I'm not here to listen to you say these things. I came because that girl once saved my disciple. I've kept this favor in mind for three years, and today I finally have a chance to repay it."

Herbal Immortal Maiden nodded: "This old woman feels the same. Three years ago, Youying that girl sealed the rift in the Immortal Palace, saving not just you few. She saved the future of the entire Spirit Realm. This old woman's life given to her is worth it."

Wang Ping looked at them and said nothing more.

He merely gave a deep bow.

This bow was for Youying, for the survivors of the Immortal Palace, for everyone Youying has saved.

Outside the formation, Jiang Mingyuan walked over slowly.

Behind him followed dozens of Transformation God elders and countless Nascent Soul cultivators; their gazes all fell on the five figures at the center of the ancient formation—filled with admiration, reluctance, and anticipation.

Jiang Mingyuan walked to the edge of the formation and stopped.

He looked at Wang Ping, at the disciple he had personally nurtured, at the young man about to rush onto the battlefield, his eyes filled with complex emotion.

"Ping'er."

Wang Ping raised his head and looked at him.

Jiang Mingyuan took a deep breath and slowly spoke.

"I have cultivated for thirty thousand years, seen countless heaven‑chosen prodigies, and taken seven disciples. You are the youngest, and the one who makes me proudest."

His voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly into everyone's ears.

"Your journey will be fraught with danger. I cannot accompany you, but I will wait here for your return."

He reached into his bosom, took out an object, and tossed it toward Wang Ping.

It was a token.

The token was entirely chaos‑colored, its surface inscribed with countless mysterious runes that emitted a faint warm glow; at its center was carved an ancient "Jiang" character.

"This is my personal token. Holding it, if you encounter danger you can forcibly activate a projection of my thoughts left within it. Though it cannot help you slay enemies, at a critical moment it might save your life."

Wang Ping took the token and felt a warm force flow from it into his body. Though not strong, it brought an indescribable sense of reassurance—the protection of his master and the shelter of his sect.

He held the token with both hands and performed a solemn salute.

"Thank you, Junior Uncle."

Jiang Mingyuan nodded, then turned his gaze to Cang Xuan, Yu Liuli, Profound Tortoise Venerable, and Herbal Immortal Maiden.

"Everyone, take care."

The four of them bowed in unison.

"Thank you, Dean."

Jiang Mingyuan said no more and slowly raised his hand.

Behind him, dozens of Transformation God elders simultaneously formed seals, sending one spell seal after another into the ancient formation.

In an instant, the ancient formation burst forth with brilliant light.

That light shot up into the sky, illuminating the entire heavens and every upturned face in the valley. Within the light, countless runes surged wildly, emitting a low hum, as if a beast that had slumbered for myriad ages had finally awakened.

Within the formation, the piles of supreme‑grade spirit stones that lay like small mountains began to burn fiercely.

The light from the burning spirit stones was pure gold, like liquid flame flowing out of the stones, following the formation's patterns and gathering into its core. Each piece of supreme‑grade spirit stone is worth a fortune; each piece burned could sustain a Nascent Soul cultivator's training for a year.

But now they are merely fuel.

Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands—countless supreme‑grade spirit stones burned at once, turning into the purest torrent of spiritual power that surged into the ancient formation.

And those space crystals likewise began to dissolve.

The light emitted when the space crystals dissolved was a deep silver‑gray, like flowing mercury seeping from the crystals and intertwining with the spiritual torrent to form a terrifying energy capable of rending the void.

The space within the formation began to twist violently.

Wang Ping could feel the surrounding scenery turning blurry. Those familiar faces, those concerned gazes, those words left unspoken—all were rapidly receding.

He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.

In his mind, countless images flashed—

In his youth, studying at the Ninth Dao Institute, the first time he condensed a chaos spiritual root, Jiang Mingyuan's gratified smile.

In the Azure Void Heavenly Realm, fighting side by side with Cang Xuan, Yu Liuli, and Youying, he first felt the preciousness of comrades.

In the Chaos Immortal Palace, Youying's final backward glance, that faint smile, and the word "Go."

Outside the Law Corridor, the rift blasted open by the Mountain‑Moving Old Ancestor with his life, his bold smile, the silent mouth shape—"Brother, take care."

And also last night, when Jiang Mingyuan stood at the cliff's edge and said to him—

"I will wait for your return."

He opened his eyes.

In his eyes, chaos‑colored light flowed, steadfast as iron.

"Youying, wait a little longer."

"I'm coming."

The light surged to its utmost.

The ancient formation shuddered violently, emitting a deafening roar. That roar pierced the void, pierced the laws, pierced every obstacle, and spread toward the endless distance.

Then——

Suddenly—stillness.

It was a strange silence, as if all sounds between heaven and earth had been drained at this moment.

The next moment, the five figures completely vanished into the light.

The rumbling of the ancient formation ceased abruptly.

The light faded, and the formation was left empty.

Only the burnt-out remnants of spirit stones and the dissolved dregs of spatial crystals remained, proving that everything that had just happened.

In the valley, silence lingered for a long time.

Jiang Ming gazed into the empty ancient formation for a long time, then let out a soft sigh.

"Children, take care."

Behind them, countless cultivators lowered their heads in silence, some clasping their hands together, others whispering prayers.

In the crowd, the young cultivator named Lin Yuan clenched his fists tightly, gazing toward the direction of the ancient formation, tears sliding down silently.

"Senior…… you must come back alive……"

In the void, five figures were speeding through.

Around them was endless darkness; occasionally, starlight shot from afar, only to vanish instantly. In the spatial passage, time and space were both distorted, making it impossible to tell direction or speed.

Wang Ping opened his Chaos Divine Sense, perceiving everything around him.

He could feel the aura of the Immortal Palace fragments drawing nearer.

Those familiar spatial fluctuations, that faint yet present Chaos aura, and——

That faint whisper that made his heart and soul tremble.

That was the aura of Youying.

Although sealed in the eternal void, although separated by endless distance, he could still sense her presence. That aura was as weak as a candle in the wind, yet resilient as if it would never go out.

"Youying……"

He muttered, clenching his fists.

Behind him, Cang Xuan suddenly spoke.

"Wang brother, there's movement ahead."

Wang Ping's heart jolted, and his Chaos Divine Sense unfolded fully.

After a moment, his expression turned grave.

Ahead, at the exit of the spatial passage, several powerful auras were lingering. Those auras were cold, stiff, absolute—those were the aura of Order, the aura of the Pure World Court.

"They are waiting for us." Yu Liuli's voice came, carrying a hint of solemnity.

Xuan Gui Venerable snorted coldly: "What's there to fear? Kill one if one comes, kill a pair if two come!"

Bai Cao Fairy shook her head: "We must not underestimate them. Since they dare to guard the exit, they must have made preparations. When we go out, we must be careful."

Wang Ping nodded, his gaze fixed on the ever-approaching exit.

There, he had to face everything.

There, was Youying.

There, were the survivors of the Immortal Palace.

There, was——a Spirit Transformation expert of the Pure World Court.

He took a deep breath, his Chaos Immortal Essence operating at full power; the Overturn Heaven Seal trembled slightly in his dantian, the Chaos Tribulation Sword let out a low hum, the tender shoots of the World Tree seed swayed gently, and the strand of primordial chaos within him pulsed slowly.

"Everyone——"

His voice echoed in the spatial passage.

"Are you ready?"

The four behind him nodded in unison.

"Good."

Wang Ping's gaze sharpened.

"Then——"

"Charge out!"