Chapter 414: Taking a Vow and Returning

“Still only at the Response Heaven realm, far from even reaching Spirit Wandering—how can I reclaim my body like this?”

The headmaster of the Heavenly Book Academy took a long time to recover his composure: “Before you reach Spirit Wandering, you must not approach your physical body too closely, or you will be bound by the soul-lock again.”

Hearing this, Ji You couldn’t help but raise his head and gaze at the heavens: “But when I broke through just now, I felt the Dao was utterly silent—not a single gain.”

“It is shrouded in nightfall, and weakened as it is, the cosmic laws have begun losing their influence over this world; the resonance between heaven and mortal is naturally faint and elusive.”

“Then how do I continue cultivating and break through?”

“Go meet the night.”

The headmaster of the Heavenly Book Academy raised his hand, pointing toward the boundless night: “Cultivators comprehend the Dao by understanding the laws of heaven and earth, transforming cosmic rules into their own power, and elevating their spiritual souls through that understanding. The night before you, though refined by the Descendant Emperor, still requires cosmic laws to function and maintain Qingyun’s stability—the foundation remains. In fact, our ancestors in the Ancient Era cultivated by perceiving the Descendant Dao, and were called Fire-Stealers by the Descendants.”

Ji You, hearing this, turned his gaze behind him, his eyes subtly narrowing.

Before successfully establishing his Dao, he had already sealed off his perception, fearing he might stray.

Thus, until now, when he used his spiritual soul as a bridge, he suddenly felt the surging force of cosmic law.

It felt like facing a roaring tide—stunning, yet he harbored doubts.

“Can the Descendant Dao be so easily sensed by the human race?”

“It has lost its own will—it is merely a tool held by the Descendant Emperor, neither good nor evil.”

The headmaster of the Heavenly Book Academy turned back to him: “Ji You, your talent is extraordinary, and your understanding of the Dao has always been profound. This ancient Dao is now boiling, its laws laid bare—this is a rare opportunity for you to rapidly ascend, for you will never again witness such a turbulent manifestation of cosmic law.”

Master Chen, upon hearing this, fixed his gaze and added: “But be cautious—the Descendants will detect you through your heavenly-mortal resonance. Avoid being noticed.”

Ji You stared at the rolling darkness and nodded slowly.

Understood. The master’s trespass…

The headmaster of the Heavenly Book Academy gently stroked his long beard: “To meet the night, you must return to Qingyun. So the question now is your grand vow—do you have any idea what it should be?”

Ji You snapped back to attention and looked at the two: “What are the requirements? It can’t be just anything, can it?”

“You must understand what the Dao needs now. Just as after Cui Lang died, the Night Watchers vanished—Yan Liang knew the Dao needed a new Night Watcher, so he descended with a vow and took Fang Ruoyao…”

Master Chen: “?”

Ji You, hearing this, turned to Master Chen: “Then what are the limits?”

As the former headmaster of Spirit Sword Mountain, the previous Keeper, and a transcended immortal, this old man had merely lingered in Fengzhou, doing nothing.

So Ji You knew: returning by vow must have restrictions.

Master Chen spoke softly: “Besides descending to fulfill the vow, the vow-taker must not accumulate too much karmic entanglement beyond the grand vow, or face punishment. When Shu Yi was attacked, I intervened forcibly and was punished—my spiritual soul still bears cracks that cannot heal. For these years, besides passing on my legacy to you and Fang Ruoyao, I could do nothing.”

“Are there any other rules?”

“If you fail to fulfill your grand vow, your soul and spirit will scatter, vanishing forever from heaven and earth.”

Ji You stared at Master Chen: “You…?”

Master Chen laughed heartily, then, after his grandeur faded, nodded calmly: “Yes, my time is indeed running out.”

“You’re about to die, yet you’re so calm.”

“Because I have no regrets. Like Shu Yi, I was exceptionally gifted from childhood, cultivating with astonishing speed. After my father left, I took over the Spirit Mirror and became headmaster, planning to live out my life without joy or sorrow, following my ancestors into transcendence. But why transcend? What lies beyond? I knew nothing. So for years, I lived in numb indifference, century after century, and looking back, I remembered nothing worth recalling—until Cui Lang died. Only then did I realize the world’s affairs fall into two kinds: those others want me to do, and those I want to do myself. These past years, I followed my heart like an ordinary elder—teaching, nurturing children, watching them grow, living with perfect ease. The only thing I miss is wine—nothing else.”

Master Chen spoke openly, his face filled with contentment.

Ji You understood his meaning, for his own stubborn ghost of a family member was the same.

Because he had lived for decades in numb indifference, meeting me awakened his runaway talent—and finally gave him his own thoughts.

Not everyone desires eternal life. Some hear the Dao in the morning and die content in the evening.

As the two fell into memory, the headmaster of the Heavenly Book Academy quietly spoke beside them: “You’ve strayed too far—you haven’t finished the essentials. No wonder you chose Fang Ruoyao.”

Master Chen flung his sleeve in anger: “What did I forget? You do it then!”

The old headmaster turned to Ji You: “Regarding the grand vow, besides aligning with the Dao, the most important thing is that it must arise from your true heart—it will be effective only then. The Dao sees all; it cannot be deceived by empty words.”

“That’s true. Grand vows spoken in pretense won’t work…”

Master Chen realized he had forgotten this, his spirit deflated: “I do have a suggestion. You might consider it.”

Ji You lifted his head: “Master, please speak.”

“The Descendants have awakened, and all life suffers. Since you came because of this, you may vow to resist them—this aligns perfectly with the Dao’s need, and your chance of success should be very high.”

“That… is indeed sound.”

The old headmaster of the Heavenly Book Academy, rarely agreeing, nodded in approval.

The Descendant Emperor seeks to refine the Dao and re-enslave all races—this is their greatest calamity. Any will to resist will be granted. A vow tied to the Descendants is timely indeed.

Hearing their exchange, Ji You fell into deep thought.

Arise from the heart, align with the Dao, yet avoid all karmic entanglement beyond the vow—fail, and your soul scatters.

Honestly, the rules of returning by vow are extremely strict; the first two alone are daunting.

For the Dao of heaven diminishes excess and supplements deficiency; the Dao of man does the opposite—diminishing the weak to serve the strong. The two have always been incompatible.

The latter two rules further counterbalance each other.

If you wish to do more, gain greater freedom, you must make a grander vow—the broader its scope, the more freely you may act. But the grander the vow, the higher the chance of failure.

Master Chen’s suggestion—to center the vow on resisting the Descendants—is indeed a sound choice.

Ji You pondered long, his brow furrowing, then relaxing, as he looked at Master Chen and the headmaster.

“Any other questions? Speak freely.”

“None. Let’s begin.”

As Ji You spoke, he stilled his breath, then lifted his head to face the Dao directly.

With his spiritual soul as direct witness, the Dao appeared as a colossal white dragon, coiled atop endless white radiance, its body stretching like endless mountain ranges.

Ji You had once accompanied the Great Xia embassy to the demon realms and seen the mightiest Ten Thousand Mountains of Qingyun—but the grandeur of the Dao before him surpassed even that.

Yet, as the old physician had said, the Dao now was truly on its deathbed. Without careful perception, one might mistake it for a mere colossal corpse.

After long observation, Ji You fixed his gaze, and as mystic light roared around him, the heavenly-mortal resonance activated.

Seeing this, the headmaster of the Heavenly Book Academy and Master Chen knew he had chosen his vow. They stepped back in unison, giving him space, then looked up in silence.

In their sight, as Ji You’s thought reached the heavens, a magnificent divine light descended.

In the heavenly-mortal resonance, Ji You instantly felt a vast, irresistible force seize him, yanking him upward violently.

Seeing this, the two within the white expanse both froze their gazes.

Whether Ji You’s thought would be validated by the Dao, they could not be certain.

For since his revival, he had repeatedly emphasized he only wished to return—to die alongside those he wished to die with. If his resolve to punish the Descendants on behalf of heaven was not strong enough, the chance of response would be minuscule.

More critically, the Dao was now too weak—could it even muster the strength to answer Ji You’s vow? They did not know.

“Do you think if…”

“BOOM!!!!”

The old headmaster of the Heavenly Book Academy had just opened his mouth to speak to Master Chen when his words were abruptly cut off by a thunderous tremor of the Dao.

Before their eyes, the dying Dao suddenly lifted its colossal body, straining as if raising its head—the overwhelming grandeur surged toward them.

At the border of Qingzhou and Lingzhou, northeast of the Great Wilderness Forest, on the Moon Soul Plateau.