Chapter 1759: Truth or Illusion?

"The strongest supreme being of the gods and buddhas in the Great Thousand Worlds is not here…"

Jiang Ding withdrew a wisp of his divine soul from the Myriad Laws Celestial Pivot.

Unfortunately, he could not make use of such intelligence.

If he were now at the peak of Heaven and Man, he would dare to pick any faction at random and storm their gates, attempting to breach one stronghold and execute every living being that had ever committed a capital crime against the human race.

If he couldn't win, he'd run; that process would surely be quite enjoyable.

Still, it wasn't without its benefits—at the very least, the probability of the Great Sun Sword Child being slain by a supreme being of a higher tier had now decreased.

The Great Sun Heavenly Palace could not guarantee his escape before a supreme being.

One could only say there was such a possibility—if he fled in advance and wasn't ambushed by a premeditated trap, then he could escape; but if he lost the initiative and was cornered by a supreme being, then there was a very high chance he would be beaten to death by one.

"Now, I shall wait for this lord's guest to arrive."

Jiang Ding gazed into the distance, murmuring to himself.

Slowly, time slipped away.

In the world clusters, black dots like a colony of ants bustled about—gathering, scattering, being born, dying—coming and going without anything new.

No matter how many died, a few hundred years later the population would flourish once more.

The human race—individuals are fragile, yet the species' vitality is incomparably tenacious. Life takes root and grows of its own accord, gradually thriving; you need not attend to it at all.

This is hardly surprising—even many righteous human powerhouses tend to be indifferent toward mortals.

Because there are simply too many of them.

Because their vitality is too tenacious.

The dull, unchanging cycle of life and death, a new generation every ten years—to invest too much emotion in such brief lives is a misfortune. The instinct of a powerhouse's divine soul subconsciously keeps its distance from these mortals; otherwise, with grief accumulating time and again, even a powerhouse would grow dispirited.

The powerhouses of the immortal sects do not view mortals with indifference, but with distance and respect.

Unbeknownst to anyone, more than two thousand years had passed.

On this day, the Great Sun Sword Child once again cast his gaze upon the mortal world.

The Dayu Dynasty, which had risen in righteous rebellion to establish a new reign, after enduring for more than three thousand years, finally met its hour of destruction. The greater part of its territory had been lost, leaving only a corner of the capital.

"Charge!"

"Come out and die, false king!"

"All may be spared except the false Yu King!"

Layer upon layer of armies on all sides surrounded the Yu King's palace, built from countless piled white bones and flesh and blood; the roars and sounds of slaughter shook the heavens.

The crimson dragon qi was stern and majestic in its laws, far surpassing the black-red dragon qi of the Dayu Dynasty, which was laced with endless resentment and fresh blood. The encirclement on all sides was today.

The situation had completely reversed!

Looking back over those two thousand-plus years, Yu Wang Yu Yong had shattered all who stood before him, subdued all he struck, never knowing defeat, holding dominion over the realm, chasing the Tu King until

he fled to the heavens and burrowed into the earth, scurrying for his life in all directions, escaping death by a hair's breadth several times, losing even his wife and children, while the old brothers under his banner were replaced batch after batch.

How divine and valiant was Yu Wang in those days?

Now, however, he had reached the end of the road.

The newly risen Great Tu Dynasty had already been established, occupying nearly all of the Zhong Senior Qian Shi Gao Jie and Minor Thousand Worlds, embraced by countless common folk, the hearts of the people truly gathered—hundreds of millions of commoners clinging tightly around this hope, cherishing all of it dearly.

"Your Majesty,"

"Please allow this final general to serve as vanguard, breach the false king's Ducheng, and capture this villain alive for you!"

A burly, fully armored great man knelt before Tu San Yi, speaking with emotion.

"Your Majesty, please allow this final general…"

"Your Majesty, to strike down the false king, why need you take the field in person…"

One fierce general after another stepped forth to request battle, their fighting intent piercing the clouds, their baleful aura pervading the air.

They were all undoubtedly the finest talents among the realms, having endured countless life-and-death struggles on the battlefield, governing troops and caring for the people—truly men of both civil and martial ability, their foundations tempered in every way. This was precisely the flourishing prime of a dynasty's founding, when talents emerged in great numbers.

Amid the battle-requests of countless fierce generals, that king sat in a daze, lost in thought.

For a long while he gave no response.

"Your Majesty?"

A woman in a phoenix crown said softly.

This was the Great Tu Dynasty's Queen of the Li clan; her family had aided Tu San Yi greatly in his founding enterprise. The husband and wife were deeply devoted in ordinary days and had three sons and one daughter.

"Oh?"

"Oh, oh!"

Tu San Yi started awake, looked down at those below, and immediately understood what was happening. After a moment's thought, he said: "Tell Yu Yong that this king and he are fellow countrymen. If he is willing to surrender and offer up his inheritance, only he himself need die; his family and descendants—this king can guarantee them a lifetime of wealth and honor."

"Your Majesty! That cannot be…"

At these words, countless Wang Hou and ministers objected one after another.

Over those two thousand-plus years of slaughter, countless nobles and high officials had kin who had died at Yu Wang's hands; they longed to tear the flesh from his bones and sleep upon his skin—how could they possibly spare his family?

The earlier shouts had been nothing but deception.

"Say no more!"

Tu San Yi said in a heavy voice.

"Yes… Your Majesty."

The many Wang Hou and ministers below were unwilling in their hearts, yet did not dare oppose the battle-meritorious founding monarch, and could only bow and salute.

The procedure was thus set; an envoy was about to be dispatched.

Tu San Yi suddenly started.

Then fell silent.

The Wang Hou and ministers filling the hall were likewise stunned.

In the distance, flames shot into the sky from the Yu King's palace. The crackling and popping of burning beams never ceased, beams collapsing one after another, burying the palace halls. Countless people, their bodies ablaze, screamed in piercing agony without end.

Many of those wailing people were princes and grandsons of the great Yu.

Everyone already knew the answer.

……

"Ah!"

"Father King! Spare me!"

"I don't want to die…"

"Father, Daddy, spare me, I'm still young, still young…"

In the burning palace, Yu Yong's expression was indifferent. He drew his sword and walked toward the many princes and grandsons, the consorts of the inner palace. One sword, one body—severing heads, splitting open chests and hearts, letting the descendants fall to the ground. Fresh blood flowed toward the flames, then was boiled dry, burned to ash.

His daughters, his grandsons, infants still in swaddling clothes, and the beautiful, dignified consorts of the inner palace—each one fell in turn.

The countless wails, sobs, and pleas for mercy did not make his hand tremble in the slightest—it was steady as cast iron.

In the end, all the wailing fell silent.

All that remained was the crackling and popping of bursting flames, the sound of collapsing beams, and—the primary consort of the great Yu dynasty, the Scorpion Queen Zhou Xiaocui, who had risen together with the Yu King from obscurity, weathering countless storms of blood and rain.

This Scorpion Queen wore a great crimson feathered rainbow gown, a phoenix crown upon her head, as though it were the day of a grand wedding—breathtakingly beautiful beyond compare.

She sat in the rear seat, quietly watching the Yu King slaughter his own sons and daughters, his many granddaughters and grandsons, and all his descendants.

She watched in silence, with no reaction at all.

"After all,"

"it was all a dream…"

The Scorpion Queen gazed at the fiery red sky and sighed softly.

Yu Yong's footsteps paused for a beat.

From the very start of the slaughter, his gaze had been indifferent, cold, lofty—containing not the slightest trace of living emotion.

But at this moment, deep within his eyes, scenes surfaced unbidden.

From a poor farmer's cottage onward—battle after battle, night after night spent together, emotion upon emotion—for a reincarnated avatar like him, were these all illusion and fantasy?