Chapter 333: Storms Rise, Who Shall Be the Overlord?

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer's eyes widened as she saw the qi of the entire Western Regions in chaotic disarray.

A complete mess.

Her mind snapped awake.

Before she dozed off, the Western Regions had been largely at peace; the Tangut Kingdom was still the nominal ruler of its vast territories, its qi flourishing, taking the form of a white serpent with near-dragon-like momentum—until it was checked by the Wolf King.

What is called national qi is merely the reflection of the world's conditions upon the flow of qi.

Like snow melting in spring, rain falling in summer.

It is not an omen, but the manifestation after the event has occurred.

With national qi thus, the world grew harsher still; the Nine-Colored Divine Deer watched as, that day alone, at least five sieges erupted across the Western Regions—tribes long harboring ambitions of greatness led their elite, even their young and strong, onto the stage of the world.

The accumulated tensions of a century in the Western Regions exploded in an instant.

Different tribes did not submit to one another; you were the Khan, I was the clan chief, over there stood the Shanyu—all believing themselves the supreme ruler of the world. For a hundred years, their conflicts had been over water sources, over hunting grounds.

These petty grievances turned into great ones; in the smoke of this chaotic age, they became the first slash against each other—and once the blades drew blood, control was lost.

And then it spiraled beyond restraint.

Killing, conquest, mutual checks, curved blades swinging, human ambition and rage burned fiercely across this ancient land—heroes rose, while once-renowned generals fell.

The qi suddenly reached "peak prosperity."

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer trod the void and saw the Tangut Kingdom's qi, shaped as a white serpent, coiled in place—its vast, slow-moving shadow still dominated most of the Western Regions' sky, its scales as beautiful as jade—but at its seventh inch lay a grotesque wound.

Something like blood surged from within.

That was the qi—qi cascaded like a waterfall onto this land, surging into the desert, where swords, spears, iron cavalry, warlords, and bows erupted forth, giving birth to this vast, turbulent storm of war.

"The Tangut Kingdom's qi is failing…"

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer surveyed the qi of the Bai Di, and delivered her judgment.

Like a divine Physician.

She knew the concept of qi could not be taken as absolute truth, yet qi was like a pearl—it brought fortune and opportunity, though it could not determine victory or defeat. Rather, after a hero rose, he naturally seized the center of the vortex—that was how one seized the qi for oneself.

The resolute shone white as iron, the cunning chilled like ink; once seated in high position, their qi naturally turned deep purple and crimson—but if they fell into ruin, scorned by a thousand, their qi became murky and foul. It was men who acted first, and only then did qi manifest—just as a man's complexion reflects his state.

But conversely, qi also reflected the present reality.

The Tangut Kingdom's current qi was dire.

The Bai Di had been cleaved in two, as if by a mortal enemy's sword.

No trace remained of its former majestic grandeur.

Its scales were shattered, its wound would not heal, and even the "dragon pearl" gathered beneath its chin—once poised to surge upward—had been slashed away.

Pitiful, pitiful.

Yet no one knew from where this man had come, with such piercing insight.

He had seen at a glance the most precious thing.

Now bearing this sword wound, with the "dragon pearl" stolen, it was as if a man's face had turned utterly black, his lips blue, his eyes rolled white.

For such a condition, the Nine-Colored Divine Deer could only say one thing.

Finished. Beyond saving. Wait to die.

Even the qi of the Red Emperor's Central Plains Empire looked more vital.

At least it still had a breath left.

It had been on the verge of collapse—until last year, something happened, forcing the nearly rotten qi of the Red Emperor to cling to life for one more breath—but surely, it was only a final flicker.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer stepped upon the void, leaping through clouds and mist.

"Previously, it might have dragged on for one or two years. Now…" The Nine-Colored Divine Deer gazed toward the distant horizon, where the aura of war rose to the heavens, and made her judgment: "It may not even last a few months."

"Will it be carved up and devoured?"

She roughly knew the reason, but wondered who had done this. She thought for a moment, and on her magnificent, sacred antlers, radiant light shimmered—she gently tapped once, and faint glimmers appeared upon the white serpent of national qi.

The scene of that day manifested.

Curious, the Nine-Colored Divine Deer saw a phantom figure, sleeves swirling, eyes ink-black yet streaked with a thread of pale gold light, advancing with a mighty sword.

He spoke, his voice resonating like the trembling of a million souls—distant, detached.

"And what of the Bai Di?!"

In his hand, an ancient sword, its surface etched with golden-red light and patterns.

He raised it. He brought it down.

His voice was cold.

"Let you, sir, go first to your death!"

A colossal red dragon manifestation raised its head and roared, then slowly dissolved—the white serpent of national qi was severed outright. The Nine-Colored Divine Deer witnessed this brutal, savage scene firsthand, her body stiffening slightly.

Finally, the image she revealed through her divine art froze upon that moment: sword raised, sleeves swirling, posture as detached as a sovereign's. Even the Divine Deer felt a faint shiver along her spine, a chill at her back—and then sorrow:

"The Western Regions truly are an age of turmoil. Where has such a man emerged—one with the bearing of a Central Plains sovereign?"

"Why have I never seen him before?"

"How much chaos will this bring?"

"The Tangut Kingdom will perish—its reign lasted barely two years."

"It rose after the fall of the Tuyuhun."

"After rising, it forged marriage ties with the Chen state, dominated the four directions, and shone with great glory—but its decline came just as swiftly, and now it is reduced to this. One sees clearly: earthly kingdoms, like men, cannot remain perpetually prosperous…"

"That little one has not contacted me with the Wang Yin lately."

"Perhaps he's suffered losses in this chaotic age?"

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer sighed, watching the Tangut Kingdom cling to life, its end imminent, while across the land, war erupted everywhere—yet within its capital, music and revelry continued, nobles dressed in Central Plains silk parading with great pomp.

Night and day, the palace rang with song and dance.

It was said that the ruler of the Tangut state had recently established his nation and proclaimed himself Emperor, naming a Crown Prince as heir.

He was selecting noble maidens from among the chieftains of various tribes for the Crown Prince.

But this Emperor of the great western kingdom of Xia, upon seeing the noble maiden—young, beautiful, and gracefully slender—beat his own son senseless and seized the bride for himself on their wedding night.

Yet no one dared speak out, due to his overwhelming authority.

His son, the crown prince who had been sent to the Chen state of central China as a hostage over two years ago, had his childhood sweetheart stolen by his father, been beaten nearly to death, and thrown into prison, alone in misery.

The closer a nation is to collapse, the louder and more frenzied its surface becomes.

Countless things that would never have occurred before now happened one after another under immense pressure.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer looked down upon this land with pity.

How familiar it all was.

If not for the city's greater size, if not for the people here wearing different clothes and speaking different tongues, she would have sworn the events unfolding before her were identical to those that had occurred hundreds, even thousands of years ago.

In a daze, it seemed as if generations of monarchs had been reborn and returned here.

Proclaiming their divine mandate, uttering the same words, doing the same deeds.

Promoting their own majesty.

These things had never changed.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer looked down at the bustling mortal world, leapt away—yet as she passed over one spot, her heart suddenly jolted; nine-colored light flashed across her crown, and her waist erupted in searing pain, golden blood gushing forth, spilling endlessly onto the earth. She turned to see a cyan arrow with barbed tips embedded in her.

Only then did a piercing, thunderous sound of tearing air reach her.

The clouds beneath her feet were torn open into a vortex.

Looking down, she saw banners flaring fiercely.

Tai Ping Gong stood atop a high ridge in the west, gripping a war bow that shrieked like Lei Ting; his temples were white with age unnatural for his years, his gaze sharp as a hawk's, fixed on the sky: "What a pity…"

"I just glimpsed a nine-colored radiance—something divine, a beast leaping past."

"I had intended to shoot it down and see what it looked like."

"But I never expected it to be so swift—it evaded me. What a pity…"

Yu Langwang tossed his bow aside; the famed general Xiao General Xiao Wuliang caught it. This clean-faced, beardless divine general said: "It must be the Nine-Colored Divine Deer of western legend, a primordial spirit like the Crimson Dragon of our central lands or the Fire Qilin of the Imperial Academy."

Yu Langwang replied casually: "Yes, just like Li Wanli's Fire Qilin."

"I only wanted to see such a wondrous legend with my own eyes."

"Whether a divine beast, symbol of majesty in murals and epics, could be killed."

"If I could slay it, it would be a crushing blow to the Tangut morale—but it seems strangely elusive."

Yu Langwang's gaze was haughty; he cared nothing for so-called primordial spirits or auspicious omens. He was a tyrannical commander, a fierce general who had dominated the world for decades, risen and fallen repeatedly, and long since ceased believing in fate or heavenly destiny.

The Crimson Emperor had his Crimson Dragon—and still his dynasty fell.

Li Wanli had his Qilin—and still died within the palace walls.

He held a sword, walked with a limp, uneven gait—he was born with one leg shorter than the other. Though his walk had once been merely unsteady in youth, this leg now dragged badly; the injury was left by the world's greatest divine general.

Boundless murderous aura pierced into his marrow.

And because he had once turned against Li Wanli, been defeated by him, and had his Wu Gong stripped away, the wound had worsened. Though he later used countless methods, cultivated the Chen state's ancestral divine art, and sacrificed years of life to restore—and even advance—his cultivation, this Wu Gong was ill-suited for healing the body, so the wound remained.

Now, when storms raged, the murderous aura of the world's greatest divine general still stabbed into his bones like a handful of needle-thin ice needles—excruciating.

Xiao General Xiao Wuliang said: "Though I don't know why, the collapse of the Tangut state's destiny is like a great protective array losing its power. Not only has their city's array lost at least two-tenths of its strength—that's ordinary enough."

"But when their monarch, ministers, and generals learned this news—"

"They were all filled with panic and terror."

"Already, nobles and generals have come to defect to us."

"My lord…"

Tai Ping Gong said coolly: "Kill them all."

Xiao General Xiao Wuliang's heart tightened.

The limping old wolf king spoke indifferently: "The Tanguts built their own nation—yet even Tanguts can become traitors. Those who betray their own race will one day betray us."

"Kill them."

"Unreliable—sometimes contacting us, sometimes remaining loyal to the Tanguts."

"Double-dealing, wavering—kill them."

"And those most steadfast Tanguts, loyal to their nation, loyal to their tribe—we respect them."

"Kill them."

Three times: "Kill them." The killing intent was chilling.

Xiao General Xiao Wuliang fell silent: "If we take such a harsh stance, the Tangut state may instead coalesce under this pressure."

Chen Wenmian said: "That is precisely what we want."

Yu Langwang's cloak billowed in the vast western winds; his razor-sharp war blade rested on the ground, both hands loosely cradling its hilt, his voice booming: "We are here to conquer them, not to negotiate."

"In my hand is only a blade—not the calculating mind of my younger brother."

"We came here for this war of annihilation—it must be forceful, resolute. Otherwise, how shall we establish our own state? We must strike with such might that our renown is known. Leniency and appeasement are tasks for the next generation, the generation after that."

"That is Chen Wenmian's duty."

"Or perhaps Li Guanyi's. Or Jiang Gao's."

A softness touched the old wolf king's face.

"But I am different. My life belongs on the battlefield."

"To the very end."

Xiao General Xiao Wuliang gazed at the white-haired, aged wolf king, lowering his eyes in silence. Twenty years ago, the wolf king was in his prime, over forty. Now, Xiao General Xiao Wuliang himself—who had been sixteen when he first took the field—was over thirty. Tai Ping Gong died in the palace; the wolf king aged in the west.

The world stirred with wind and clouds; all directions changed. Such upheavals came swift and fierce—as if in a dream.

The old Wolf King said: "Recently, many so-called Tian Kehan have risen in the Western Regions."

"But few are worth noting; one of them is a Han man from Aqi Nicheng, known as 'Tian Ge'er'—legend says he took advantage of the Jianghu's turmoil during Gongmo Sect's assault to lead an army of one hundred thousand into Aqi Ni."

"One hundred thousand troops under command? That's likely false."

"But the change of city lords is no lie—General Xiao Wuliang must pay close attention."

Xiao General Xiao Wuliang said: "Understood."

Their current target is naturally the Tangut Kingdom—the great Western Xia—where they must slow their strategy, waiting for the Tangut Kingdom's final breath to burst open, then reap its remains—

After a kingdom falls, its corpse is an invaluable treasure to the Wang Hou of this world.

The Tangut Kingdom devoured the corpse of the Tuyuhun and thus established its state.

This is why Tian Kehan have suddenly sprung up across the entire Western Regions.

Their eyes fixate on the clearly declining Tangut Kingdom, eager to take the first bite and forge their own hegemony; the Regent Prince watches them in silence, his hand already gripping the blade's edge—anyone who seeks to devour this must have the strength, or be devoured himself!

The most critical moment in the Western Regions is approaching.

Who will be the next hegemon of the Western Regions?

Xiao General Xiao Wuliang's chest surged with emotion; he said gravely: "I will send men to watch Aqi Ni. But an army of one hundred thousand is likely false—yet in military affairs, one must never neglect the possibility of defeat. If the commander there truly possesses the ability to command one hundred thousand troops…"

The old Wolf King said: "That is Li Guanyi."

Xiao General Xiao Wuliang's pupils contracted; he reflexively objected: "But, Lord, he is now in Jiangnan—what reason do you have?"

The aged Wolf King burst into loud laughter: "The essence of military strategy lies in making the enemy unaware of your movements; all the intelligence that appears outwardly is merely what strategists concoct to deceive the world's eyes and ears."

"What I see—"

"Is the grand tide!"

"If it can be confirmed—truly confirmed—that he commands one hundred thousand troops—"

"In this world today, only one being possesses such ability, can appear here, must appear here—and that is the Fire Qilin." The desert winds stirred the Wolf King's temples as he gazed at the vast heavens:

"If it is him, then so be it."

The aged Wolf King seemed to recall past events—love, hate, grudges, all the storms of time—but after a long silence, he merely said lightly:

"The world is so vast—it is never lonely."

"Come, General Xiao Wuliang."

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer felt the Wolf King's aura was chillingly lethal; that arrow was even a mysterious weapon. She was never a combat-oriented divine beast, and the Ancient Taigu Chilong had warned her—even Bai Hu and Fire Qilin had perished; she must think carefully.

This time, struck by the Wolf King's arrow in a vital spot, she barely held on, soaring through the air.

Golden blood dripped down, and as it fell, it turned into a heavy rain, scattering across the parched desert.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer felt her vision gradually blur.

"No good!"

"Is it… Fei poison?"

The first wonder poison of the mortal realm—or rather, the greatest wonder poison of past, present, and future.

The Fei insect was the first poison beast of the Ancient Era.

The Taigu Chilong, Fire Qilin, Chi Di, and eight hundred ancient generals had united their armies to surround and exterminate it; the Nine-Colored Deer realized her body was gradually fibering, turning to wood and stone; her nine-colored divine light shone, desperately holding back the decay.

Yet her vision still gradually blurred.

She did not know where she had run to—her feet gave way.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer fell from the clouds.

………………

Aqi Nicheng.

Li Guanyi held the Wooden Sword Long Tu, this divine weapon elevated by the Master Jiankuang, laid horizontally before him; he pressed two fingers against its blade, and divine essence flowed along the sword, gathering the surrounding qi, all things falling silent.

Li Guanyi exhaled sharply and moved his wrist—the long sword slashed out.

Along the blade, qi surged; this sword surpassed his former techniques, bearing a hint of the Master Jiankuang Mu Zi Yi's style—but unlike that Master Jiankuang's free-spirited, unrestrained aura as he roamed the Jianghu,

Li Guanyi's sword was upright, majestic, and vast.

Like a sovereign above, wielding a sword to slay evil and punish disloyalty.

It carried an aura of supreme dominance.

The sword cut through; Li Guanyi frowned, closed his eyes, and pondered long, then sighed and lifted the blade: "Not enough… not enough…"

"I still haven't reached the level of that sword strike from that day."

Since that day he slew Bai Di, Li Guanyi had returned and constantly pondered his Wu Gong, trying to recreate that strike—but that sword strike had been the convergence of heaven's timing, earth's advantage, and human harmony, using Chi Xiao to strike Bai Di; the Tiger King Wang Yin burned the qi of mortal destiny.

Added to that, his own chest's torrent of lethal qi.

Only when these three merged could he unleash that strike.

Now, without that mindset, even with a sword in hand, he could not replicate it—only keep trying. Yet in this process, his entire foundation—learned from the Master Jiankuang, forged through travels across the land—had been refined into a single furnace.

Finally, 【Rolling Waves】, 【Crushing Mountains】, 【Shattering Peaks】, 【Muran Family Sword Art】, 【Shattered Jade Fist】, even the 【Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Scripture】, and the mysterious compassionate Ta Xin Tong he gained from the Monk of the Thirteen Uses, the true Buddhist transmission of the Western Regions—

All merged into a single sword strike.

When this sword is unleashed, it is vast and calm—even the killing intent is hidden.

This is called: Slash.

Today, through cultivation and honing, Li Guanyi has finally achieved six or seven tenths of that day's level with this sword technique, creating a new sword form; after seeing it, Master Siming praised it enthusiastically, while the Whale Fisher said nothing.

"Good. Very good."

"The Master Jiankuang's sword qi is far stronger than yours—but if that old man were to strike this sword, he could not replicate its flavor. Jianghu and the world are different; each has its own charm—it is only natural."

"Ha, I must write that old man a letter."

"Mu Zi Yi would surely be deeply moved—time for a good drink!"

Master Siming said: "Since you created this Wu Gong yourself, you may write down its diagram and pass it on to future generations."

Li Guanyi said: "It was merely a stroke of luck."

Master Siming didn't care: "All martial arts and literature under heaven come from sudden inspiration. Your accumulation and energy are already sufficient. These past years, you've run east and west, fought south and north—you've fought more battles than most martial artists do in a lifetime. To create a sword art is only natural."

Li Guanyi picked up his brush and wrote down the diagram, but the spiritual essence was hard to capture.

"First form."

"【Slay the Snake】."

Master Siming clucked in wonder: "That name is rather plain."

"Hah! Looks like you didn't read much as a child. Look at your great-great-grandfather—his sword names were more splendid and elegant than the last, each one more graceful: mist-shrouded pavilions over Jiangnan's rain, beautiful beyond compare!"

"But tell me, what snake did you slay?"

Li Guanyi thought for a moment, then answered:

"The Bai Di, the destiny of the Tangut Kingdom."

Master Siming burst into violent coughs, his hand trembling so badly he nearly dropped the sword manual. The old black tortoise widened his eyes at Li Guanyi, then shrank back his neck.

Master Siming sat frozen for a long while, then picked up the manual.

"Slay the Snake…"

He stared at the name of the first form, clapped his hands, and sighed deeply: "This name…"

"Is incredibly domineering!"

The old black tortoise sneered at Master Siming's sudden change of tone, rolling his eyes wildly. Master Siming laughed: "Fine, fine, fine—I'll run the errand and tell your old man about this."

"Besides, the Fisherman is leaving too. That old bastard can barely contain his killing intent."

"He's probably planning to wander through the Western Regions."

Li Guanyi said: "Wander through them?"

Master Siming looked at Li Guanyi and smiled: "Though he's scatterbrained, he's stubborn. Yesterday, when you chatted with the girl, do you think I and he were fooled by your brute-force, brick-flinging movement? We were right there by the wall."

"I thought the Fisherman would grit his teeth and seethe with jealousy because the girl showed affection toward you—I even planned to tease him. But when I looked back, I saw his eyes were red, on the verge of tears."

"People in this world come in a hundred forms: there are mothers like your aunt, and heartless ones like Xiao Yuxue; fathers who praise their children loudly, and cold ones like Chen Dingye. But many, like the Fisherman, never show their emotions."

"He said he was at ease."

"With the Fire Qilin and you, Yaoguang won't face much danger."

"He said a man like him won't linger around his daughter forever."

"He said the Western Regions are too vast, too many cities."

Master Siming whispered:

"This journey will take years, but it's merely a tour of the four corners."

"To purge all demons."

"His killing intent toward Xiao Yuxue is even stronger than yours."

Li Guanyi pressed his lips together. Master Siming patted his shoulder and smiled: "The martial world and the realm are like this—everyone walks their own path. But I notice you've been glowing lately. Maybe fortune's coming your way."

Li Guanyi beamed.

Master Siming waved his hand and left with the black tortoise.

Fortune—Li Guanyi held his sword, dreaming. He was truly poor. The nobles of Aqi Nicheng lived well because of endless exploitation; the land itself lacked resources. With hundreds of thousands of people, it couldn't compare to the cities of the Central Plains.

This place couldn't support an army.

The standing army could only number one or two ten thousand.

Many administrative measures, similar to those of the Central Plains, drained silver and gold. The treasury was shrinking rapidly. But now, outside Aqi Nicheng, the situation is shifting dramatically—the city had stabilized. It was time to take the next step.

At that moment, hurried footsteps suddenly sounded outside.

Whoosh!

Lei Laomeng burst in, his face as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Bad news! Bad news!"

"General Nangong found something again! Again! Again!"

Li Guanyi beamed: "Gold? Or iron ore?!"

Lei Laomeng caught his breath, stammering like he'd seen his ancestral master manifest: "Sh-she…"

"She went out for a stroll, bored, thirty li away."

"Found a head—a nine-colored deer, as big as a hill."

Li Guanyi's smile froze.

Qin Wu Hou's expression turned as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Huh?!!"

?? Please vote for monthly tickets, everyone (calmly)

? Another day barely under control of my schedule