Chapter 76: Chapter Seventy-Six: Tianlou

The air was pulled into a void.

Xu Wei Zhou had no time to ponder what it was—the mountain-like imposing figure had already slammed into his face. Frost, fire, and lightning simultaneously seared his skin, three distinct agonies overwhelming him, making him want to recoil—but his body remained utterly still.

A massive scaled claw enveloped his skull, deep blue seeping downward from the crown like molten wax.

Instantly, Xu Wei Zhou’s body stiffened, then liquefied from head to toe into a thick, pure fluid, sucked into the claw.

Only his blue robe and sword clattered to the ground.

His final lingering thought was: Hadn’t that Immortal Lord already passed by?

A powerful, sharp, hardened giant claw, covered in beautiful scales, stepped onto the city tower’s roof; bricks and stones shattered beneath its feet like thin paper. The Immortal Lord gazed down upon the tiny county.

It had been over seventy thousand stellar cycles since it last saw these pitiful creations.

Piling up fragile things—sand, stone, grass, trees—into fragile shapes, spreading them out in patches, then surrounding them with another layer of equally fragile barriers.

Then happily hiding their fragile bodies, which would shatter at the slightest touch of wind, water, lightning, or fire, believing themselves safe.

After so long, these little things remain just as simple and delicious.

They are so clever—then when eating those little things called “field snails,” don’t they see their own reflections on the surface?

Still gathering together so obediently... The sweet memory of swallowing such a creation seventy thousand stellar cycles ago surged forth.

The golden eyes lifted slightly; these eyes did not perceive all things through human vision. Within the dragon’s pupils, the entire city was stripped into multiple distinct layers, all secrets stripped bare.

On the other side of the city lay a servant’s corpse, still bearing a trace of savory residue—the leftover from last night’s feast.

Some small creatures below looked up and saw it, froze for a moment, then scrambled back into their shells, emitting chaotic waves of sound.

But the only thing that stirred solemnity within it was the spear from the future—still elusive. Normally, five “threads” would be more than enough to pull out the true target, but this time was different: they... had branched.

Two stretched in one direction, two in another, and one wavered uncertainly.

But it mattered little.

Once the dragon’s flesh spread out, it would possess hundreds of thousands of “spies”—this fog would soon be lifted.

Even if it destroyed this entire creation, it would require little effort.

It gently raised its hand—

Suddenly, the dragon’s vision brightened.

It was the layer where it perceived “energy”—a realm like a star-sea, scattered with countless bright or dim, large or small points of light.

And now, among the stars, a streak of flame surged straight toward it.

Ah yes... among them, there are always such creatures.

From the human perspective.

Ming Qitian swept across the sky above Fenghuai, a white shadow fleeting past; the lingering true qi along its path slowly dissipated like drifting white feathers.

Then a sword unleashed a gale.

Ming Qitian’s swordplay was always ethereal and stunning—like a heron, like white clouds, like a long rainbow—but rarely had it ever been so loud, so grandly exuberant.

Half the city’s air seemed swept up by her, compressed and twisted into a furious column of wind, hurtling straight toward the towering figure.

The sword technique Ming Qitian had learned half a year ago from the Cloud Mountains, “The Sword Ritual of Wind Lord and Rain Master,” controlled wind and rain—not by praying to these nonexistent deities, but by manipulating the cosmic qi to influence nature. In a sense, she had already brushed against the threshold of the Tianlou realm.

Now, using this technique, Ming Qitian’s intent was not to kill, but to force the dangerous, oppressive being away from the county, to change the battlefield.

The gale swept overhead, its aftershocks hurling tiles, toppling jars, shaking trees; the small town seemed tossed upon ocean waves.

Yet facing this violent roar, the Immortal Lord did not retreat—it charged forward.

The solidified wind column shattered instantly; the speed of the figure crashing into the column was even faster than the wind’s rush toward it!

No matter how fierce the wind, how could it move a hill? No matter how dense, how could it rival steel?

The vast wind force was crushed like dry grass and rotten wood; the majestic figure surged forward, revealing its true power without concealment.

Human realms could never define it—but if one must categorize this power, it was “Tianlou.”

The wind column shattered piece by piece, and at its end, the woman of divine grace stood upon the wind, one hand holding her sword behind her back, the other forming a seal, her bright eyes level with it.

Their gazes met—one lofty and detached, one calm and still.

Then, as if a scroll unfurled behind the woman, both entered the painting.

The Immortal Lord’s vision turned entirely white; at this moment, dragon eyes and human eyes were no different.

[Sword Realm · Taibai]

When Xing Zhi asked her if she had any way to confront Tianlou, she gave a negative answer—not a lie.

When her pulse tree reached the fourth life, she had already defeated an eighth-life opponent face-to-face with her sword—not some random old martial artist, but a senior brother from Yunlang Mountain who had legitimately earned the “Immortal Tree Hanging Sword” qualification.

And when her pulse tree neared the eighth life and she was about to enter the Xuan Gate, countless masters of the first Jade Step were no longer her match.

But now, even though she stood at the absolute peak of the Xuan Gate’s Jade Step, she could not challenge the next higher realm.

Advancing within the Xuan Gate is like climbing a mountain: you reach the summit, fine—there are always higher mountains to climb.

But when you press forward with courage and reach the highest mountain in the world, even the sturdy pine growing atop its peak has leapt up—what lies beyond?

In the sky.

The gap between Xuan Gate and Tianlou is the gap between mountain and sky.

Even if you leap with all your might from the highest mountain, how can you reach the sky?

So Ming Qitian said “no.”

But that did not mean she could make no attempt.

In fact, before descending to test her sword across the world, the Sword Lord had spoken with her about this very issue.

“You’ve always faced opponents many times stronger than yourself. Now that you stand atop the Xuan Gate’s peak, how can you expect all your foes to come from below?”

“Of course, I know—you cannot defeat such an enemy. But the real world is not Yunlang Mountain; no one will carefully choose opponents just strong enough for you to barely win.” The man said, “What if you meet one anyway?”

“Die,” Ming Qitian replied, calm and honest.

“Try not to die,” the man smiled faintly. “Today, I teach you one of the Seven Radiance Sword Realms. May it grant you even a thousandth or hundredth of a chance if you ever face such an enemy.”