Chapter 43

Facing the incomparably powerful Venerable God, Luofude Mountain Villa and the Spirit God Hall joined forces for the first time, these two organizations symbolizing humanity's greatest strength on this continent now found themselves everywhere on the defensive against the god‑slaying, world‑destroying Venerable God. With a flip of his hand he could summon clouds and rain; a single raise of his palm could reduce a human‑sovereign‑level expert to ashes, while the attackers' strikes against his protective barrier were merely as ineffective as an itch. Such a power that makes one's face change at hearing it was, in fact, only fifty percent of his strength.

Just this fifty percent already made him invincible under heaven.

To oppose this power, humanity expended nearly everything. When many experts had been crushed by the Venerable God and corpses littered the slopes of Cold Mountain, the few remaining experts finally settled on a strategy to decide the battle in one strike: Mingguang would feint, while Viscount Luofude and Luoshan would launch the main attack with their swordsmanship, using humanity's strength to strike the Venerable God's weakness.

Such an arrangement clearly cut off our retreat; if we failed, all human experts on this continent would be wiped out in one blow by the Venerable God, and there would be nothing left in the world capable of checking his power.

Therefore, this battle wagers the fate of the entire continent. For them, success is the only option; failure is unthinkable!

Mingguang grasped his magic staff, leading Sachsen, Xiliya, Xifeierde, Silake, and a host of senior disciples of the Spirit God Hall, each unleashing their strongest magic, which converged into a frontal assault on the Venerable God. Individually their strength was far inferior to his, yet combined they approached the power of a human‑god, startling the aloof Venerable God somewhat. However, he quickly saw that although this force seemed mighty, the bonds among them were extremely fragile; a head‑on clash would cause their attack to wane, and before they could link for a second strike, they would be broken apart individually, rendering them ineffective.

The Venerable God snorted coldly, withdrawing the scattered spells cast by the disordered disciples of the Spirit God Hall. The enemy had now thrown everything into a single, all‑out strike, riddled with flaws, yet this first blow still required him to muster his full strength to resist. As long as he could withstand this initial strike, he would find openings and flaws to pick them off one by one. Thus, compared with the earlier state where each fought alone, this actually saved him the trouble of hunting them down individually.

Mingguang too was among the world's top experts; how could he not know all this? Yet he had once schemed to frame Luoshan and release the Venerable God, bringing this world‑destroying power back into the human realm, and his heart had long been filled with guilt. Now, knowing humanity stood no chance, he devised this plan to use himself as bait, to break the cauldrons and fight with his back to the wall. He was originally just the bait; all those who launched the frontal assault were merely covering for Luoshan and Viscount Luofude, drawing the Venerable God's attention as a mere pawn. If they could give Luoshan and the viscount an opening, their mission would be considered accomplished.

To die protecting humanity and this continent would be worth it, even if it meant being smashed to pieces.

Mingguang led the charge, invoking the Wind‑Controlling Art and rushing straight toward the Venerable God's torso. Seeing the blood‑thirsty madman loom larger in his vision, the faint fear and dread of death he had once felt turned entirely into fury for an all‑out strike. He had roamed the human realm for decades, leading the vast Spirit God Hall, and could be said to have committed every conceivable atrocity—burning, killing, looting—yet this continent remained his home, and he would still sacrifice everything, even his life, to guard this beautiful, peaceful world.

Death held nothing frightening for him. Over the years he had grown accustomed to death—whether those who died at the hands of the Spirit God Hall, or the angelic folk who fell asleep forever in the Absolute Zone due to barrier magic, or comrades who perished in endless battles—but none of those deaths compared to now, dying in such a spectacular, glorious fashion at the Venerable God's hands while defending humanity, a fame that would endure for ages.

In that case, if humanity were to snatch victory by a fluke, perhaps a thousand years hence history might also reserve a place for him. People would learn that in that ancient decisive battle, the Spirit God Hall's chief master Mingguang had expended his last ounce of strength, serving as bait and sacrificing himself to shield others. His name might thus, along with this battle, become immortal.

Thinking of this, Mingguang couldn't help a faint smile. His comrades—Aordeng, Bafaliya, Get, Heisen, and Meikelun—had already gone ahead of him, and though they had often squabbled and schemed against each other in peacetime, they shared decades of camaraderie, having fought side by side; now he would soon join them in that other world.

"Everyone, the Venerable God is right before us; do not be afraid, keep up this power. Everyone, we need only one strike—maintain this power, and a single strike will suffice!"

Just as the Venerable God spread his arms and powerful magical light surged from his palms toward the crowd, Mingguang raised his staff and shouted loudly.

With a thunderous roar, an intense white light instantly engulfed everyone's figures. This strike gathered the magical power of Mingguang and dozens of other peerless experts—how could it be trivial? Even one as mighty as the Venerable God could not fully block it. He felt a sweetness in his throat, his body involuntarily retreated several steps, and a mouthful of blood spurted out. He had intended to follow up with a second strike to scatter the crowd, but that could not be unleashed. This was the first time since his rebirth that the Venerable God showed any sign of waning.

The low‑rank disciples of the Spirit God Hall and the people of Luofude Mountain Villa, who had been fleeing in all directions, suddenly saw this scene and could not help cheering. After all, the Venerable God is still a man, not a god; even a god can be slain, let alone fragile humanity. For a moment hope rekindled in everyone's hearts. Though they themselves lacked sufficient strength, they wholeheartedly wished their leaders could turn the tide. Thus, although they knew the place was dangerous, they mostly stopped their feet involuntarily and looked up at the battle unfolding in midair.

Qinyan hid behind a boulder, staring unblinkingly at all this. At that moment she almost felt grateful to that merciless killer. After all, had it not been for the Venerable God's return, her father and Luoshan would probably never have been able to fight side by side as they did today.

If, if this battle could ultimately have a happy ending, how wonderful that would be.

Even if we could never return to the way things were, at least we could still have a seemingly harmonious reunion.

The happiest days of her life had been spent at Luofude Mountain Villa, together with her father and Luoshan. Those days were so brief yet so blissful; she still knew nothing of the conspiracies behind them, nor had she witnessed such bloody carnage. The afternoon sun was warm, the breeze carried the scent of phoenix flowers, she could have the company of that youth, and her father would always wait for her at home. But such days, I fear, would never come again.

Yet her heart also yearned for this scene to appear again, even if only in imagination, even if just for a minute.

Just then, the blinding white light born of the clashing powers finally faded. Compared to the lightly wounded, blood‑vomiting Venerable God, the humans who had launched the frontal assault could be described in a single word: miserable.

Almost everyone fell from midair; some disciples plunged straight into the valley, leaving no trace, while others fell onto the rocks drenched in their own blood, either unconscious or struggling in agony. Sachsen was shaken by the Venerable God's divine power until his five viscera and six bowels were all shattered; he fainted instantly and plunged into the deep valley. Xiliya was comparatively fortunate, yet although he did not end up without a trace, his viscera were shattered and every bone in his body was pulverized; in excruciating pain he could not even lift a finger.

Silake was the only one among them still able to stand; having been positioned toward the rear in the duel and possessing considerable magical power, he too had suffered a serious injury, with qi and blood surging in his chest and abdomen, but he retained some combat strength. Xifeierde's strength was far inferior to his; he collapsed to the ground and immediately passed out.

Among those who attacked together, Mingguang was the strongest, yet he also stood at the very center of the Venerable God's onslaught. As the god's power swept over him, he bore the brunt; his protective barrier shattered into countless fragments. Several beams of light pierced his body, throwing his magical power into chaos. When the attack finally ceased, he had no strength left to stand; his legs gave way and he slumped to the ground. "Venerable God," he whispered through bloody lips, a bitter smile tugging at his mouth. "Venerable God… you didn't have it easy either, did you?"

Mingguang murmured, lifting his gaze to the sky; he saw the Venerable God wipe the blood from his corner of his mouth, stare at him, and flash a hint of murderous fury in his eyes. Yet before the Venerable God could strike, two sword‑lights suddenly streaked across the heavens. Two figures appeared from an unexpected direction, riding the wind, each brandishing a long sword and carrying supreme magical power as they lunged at the Venerable God!

These two were Luoshan and Viscount Luofude, following Mingguang's plan: they had remained hidden while he launched his death‑defying assault, not moving until Mingguang and the others fell and the Venerable God, shaken by the recoil, suffered a light wound; then they suddenly struck, expending all their magical power in hopes of a single decisive blow.

The Venerable God's heart tightened; from that instant of lightning and fire he already knew the two attackers were peerless experts of the human realm. Yet, relying on his power and accustomed to looking down on all, he snorted, waved his hands, and shot two black beams of light, each aimed at one of them. At this moment Luoshan and Viscount Luofude had closed to within a few steps of the Venerable God—ideal distance to unleash their swordsmanship. But seeing those two beams of light rush toward them, they knew the Venerable God's strength was unprecedented in ancient times and dared not meet them head‑on, instinctively retreating two steps to dodge. The Venerable God's strength had only just recovered to less than half, and after the heavy blow from Mingguang and company he had also suffered considerable injury; now, splitting his efforts into two moves, each needed enough force to push back experts like Luoshan and Viscount Luofude. Even one as mighty as the Venerable God found this taxing; after unleashing one move his internal magical power was drained, leaving him unable to immediately follow with a second. In that brief pause, Luoshan and Viscount Luofude had both closed in, their exquisite swordsmanship combined with great magical power overwhelming the Venerable God's barrier—though strong, it could not fully block their assault, so he merely swayed slightly to avoid the edge. In that instant his strength returned by several points, and he immediately fired a deadly beam of light. Luoshan and Viscount Luofude dared not meet it head‑on, and could only dodge. Consequently, the Venerable God's power waned again. The three forces ebbed and flowed, making it momentarily impossible to tell who was superior.

Venerable God's heart jolted; from just that instant of lightning stone fire, he already knew the two attackers were supreme masters of the human realm. Yet relying on his strength, he had always looked down on everything, so he snorted coldly, waved both hands, and released two black beams of light, each aimed at one of them. At this moment, Luoshan and Viscount Luo Fu Gu De had already closed to within a few steps of Venerable God, well within the ideal distance to unleash swordsmanship. But suddenly seeing the two beams coming at them, they deeply understood Venerable God's strength was truly unprecedented, they dared not block head-on, and could only instinctively retreat two steps to dodge the strike. Venerable God's strength had originally only recovered to less than half, and after suffering a serious injury from the all-out strike of Ming Guang and others, now, using both hands to perform two separate techniques, each required enough power to repel masters like Luoshan and Viscount Luo Fu Gu De; even as mighty as Venerable God, he found it somewhat taxing. After unleashing one move, his internal magical power was drained, and he could not immediately follow with a second. In that brief pause, Luoshan and Viscount Luo Fu Gu De both attacked forward; their exquisite swordsmanship combined with great magical power, though Venerable God's protective shield was strong, it was insufficient to fully block their assault, so he could only sway slightly to avoid the sharp edge. In that very moment, his strength had recovered a bit, and he immediately shot out a deadly beam of light. Luoshan and Viscount Luo Fu Gu De dared not block it, and could only dodge. Thus, Venerable God's strength waned again. The three forces ebbed and flowed, making it hard to tell who was superior for a while.

Mingguang stared blankly at the three combatants before him, his heart a mix of sorrow and joy. He knew the Venerable God's power was his own resurrection—a feat unprecedented in past or future—yet events proved it to be perhaps the most foolish act in human history. The Venerable God's power could not be controlled; the whole world stood on the brink of annihilation by him, and the human realm's experts had nearly been wiped out in this battle. Still, the fact that someone could still face him meant the continent might yet have a happy ending.

Ming Guang stared blankly at the three fighting before him, his heart truly filled with mixed joy and sorrow. Knowing that Zunshen's power was resurrected by his own hands, such a feat unprecedented in past and future, yet proven by fact to be merely the most foolish act in human history. Zunshen's power could not be controlled at all; the whole world almost faced annihilation by him, and the human realm's experts were nearly wiped out in this battle. Yet fortunately, there were still those who could fight him; on this continent, there remains a possibility of a happy ending.

It will not be him, the chief master of the Spirit God Hall, Mingguang. For years he has led the Spirit God Hall in wars across the lands, slaughtering countless foes while also building glorious merit. In his lifetime, has he been right or wrong?

It would not be him, the Supreme Palace Master of the Spirit God Palace, Ming Guang. Over these many years, leading the Spirit God Palace in campaigns everywhere, he has slaughtered countless, yet also established magnificent merits. In his lifetime, has he been wrong or right?

Mingguang felt the world before him growing dim. This, too, was fine; the final aspect of this world that appeared before his eyes remained tranquil, still peaceful.

Ming Guang only felt that the world before his eyes was gradually blurring. This is fine; what appears before his eyes, the final aspect of this world, remains tranquil, still peaceful.