Chapter 417

Rolling darkness, a shadowy mountain forest.

A chilling wind poured in from the ravine, stirring up dust and dispersing a thick stench of blood.

By the babbling river, pink water faded as it flowed eastward, diluted by the current—but soon, fresh dye seemed added upstream, turning the clear flow even redder.

At this moment, the surviving clan disciples were fighting together.

Especially the elders of those families, who had nearly drained their spiritual essence, unleashed their life-saving techniques, finally slaying the Descendants in the mountain forests and river valleys.

And when the last one before them fell, their faces grew even paler from exhaustion.

Yet they did not rush to meditate; instead, they turned to look across the riverbank.

At this moment, a brilliant sword qi descended from the sky, like a full moon blooming across the heavens, its aura piercing the celestial vault.

Plos!

A Descendant with blood-red eyes had its neck cleanly severed; as its head tumbled away, its body crashed into the river with a thud.

In their line of sight, the ordinary young man had also slain the final Descendant soldier.

By count, he alone had killed more than the combined total of all the others.

Huffing and puffing—

The others breathed heavily, staring, silent for a long while.

Because even now, they could not deduce his identity; the trauma of tonight had left their minds in chaos, so they naturally had nothing to say.

Most crucially, after witnessing his sword slay the Descendant Vanguard, they all held deep reverence and naturally dared not speak lightly.

At this moment, Ji You landed, sheathed his sword, and turned to face them.

Although he had learned the general situation of Qingyun from the old physician and Master Chen, many specific details remained unknown to him, so he had many questions.

“May I ask, how is Qingyun faring now?”

Gong Buyi, still staring at him, immediately bowed and replied: “My lord, five of Qingyun’s nine provinces have fallen to the Descendants; our people now hold only four. Judging by tonight’s events, Qingzhou will soon be utterly slaughtered.”

Ji You’s heart tightened at the news of five major provinces lost: “Where did the people of Qingyun’s five provinces go?”

“Those who could flee escaped to the southern three provinces—the Celestial Book Academy and the Chen Clan were no exception; even the beast tribes did the same. Those who couldn’t flee, cultivators were used as blood food, and commoners became slaves,” Gong Buyi answered honestly.

The Descendants revived too swiftly, their slaughter too sudden; Qingyun was now in utter chaos, with information moving slowly.

So although Ji You appeared ignorant of everything, to Gong Buyi’s eyes, this was not strange—merely that he had cultivated in seclusion and failed to keep up with current events.

“With such a great disaster, didn’t the Vessel-Bearers of the immortal sects intervene?”

“My lord, the Descendants’ revival was too sudden; most had no time to react. The Celestial Book Academy and the Chen Clan chose first to evacuate their disciples southward.”

“What of Yu Danzong? Weren’t they repairing the cracks in the Sacred Ground of the Ancients?”

“Once the Descendant royal malice burst from the Sacred Ground, Yu Danzong immediately retreated with the Celestial Book Academy’s forces stationed there to Lingzhou.”

Hearing this, Ji You’s expression remained calm, but inwardly he exhaled slightly in relief.

Because he heard no bad news about the Vessel-Bearers, and learned the Celestial Book Academy had sheltered everyone in Lingzhou, he believed Master Cao and Kuangcheng were unharmed; with the temperamental ghost around, she wouldn’t let Yuan Caimei or Yuan Chen come to harm—after all, she was their elder sister.

“My lord, this is no place to speak. Let us depart southward at once and find a safe location.”

Gong Buyi suddenly spoke, urging everyone to evacuate quickly.

Ji You snapped back to awareness, shook his head after hearing this: “You go first. Be careful on the road.”

“Won’t you leave?”

“I have matters to attend to here.”

Ji You lifted his head, gazing into the rolling darkness.

After sleeping so long, he truly missed everyone—especially Yan Shuyi and Yuan Caimei—but his immediate priority was not sentimental longing; it was to rapidly ascend his realm and reclaim his physical body as soon as possible.

After his first clash with the Descendants, he was deeply shocked: at the same realm, the Descendants were vastly stronger than humans. Even that Vanguard was so difficult to handle—he dared not imagine how powerful higher-ranking ones might be.

So he would go to the most turbulent depths of the darkness, to observe the Dao.

On the other hand, the old physician had warned him: never approach his physical body too closely unless he reached sufficient realm, or he would be trapped again by the soul-lock.

Master Chen said he had secretly attended Ji You’s funeral, and that his body had not been buried in Fengzhou, but taken back to Lingjian Mountain by the temperamental ghost.

That girl always called him “strange man,” only calling him “husband” when she was being scolded—yet she couldn’t bear to leave his corpse anywhere else. But this also meant that, with his current cultivation, he could not approach Lingjian Mountain too closely.

Taken together, staying here was the best choice—hence his decision not to leave.

An elder of the Lian Clan, hearing he would not depart, bowed deeply: “Today’s calamity plunged us into death’s jaws; we escaped only thanks to your aid. Since you will not journey with us, may we know your name? Should opportunity arise, we shall repay you tenfold.”

Hearing this, all around turned to stare—even Gong Ning, who had collapsed before her father’s corpse, looked at him with tear-filled eyes.

Because they all wondered: where did such a young, powerful being come from?

Ji You shook his head after hearing this, offering no answer.

His survival was a shock that would strike many profoundly; if word spread, he knew the temperamental ghost would come for him, and Master Cao and the others too—but under this night, danger was too great. He must stay here, and it would bring them no benefit.

The Lian Clan elder opened his mouth, then closed it: “Then we shall ask no more. Still, we thank you deeply for your righteous rescue.”

Gong Buyi also bowed: “This place is perilous, with frequent Descendant appearances. My lord, please be careful.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Ji You said, then looked at the sword in his hand: “I came out unarmed. This sword is payment for saving you.”

Gong Buyi knew it was his granddaughter’s sword; he nodded: “It’s no great blade. Take it. We must bury our kin first—farewell.”

“Travel safely. I depart first.”

“My lord, may fortune attend you.”

Ji You nodded, then turned and strode off, soaring into the rolling night.

Looking down from above, he could not help but gasp—he had never before seen so directly how severely Qingyun had been destroyed.

Not even the cities remained; many peaks had collapsed. Countless cultivators’ corpses littered the land, riddled with bite marks, horrifying to behold.

Soon, he reached the Great Wild Forest bordering Liangzhou and leapt into its dense, mist-shrouded sea of trees.

More than two years ago, he had come here once over the matter of the relic’s Dao Fruit; he knew it was deeply hidden, ideal for concealment, and also a place where the night’s darkness surged powerfully—perfect for observing the Dao.

Ji You scanned the forest, slashed through countless branches with his sword, arranged them in formation to mask his aura, then sat down on a patch of ground piled with dead leaves.

Eyes closed, hands naturally resting in the embrace of the primordial.

In an instant, his spiritual sense surged toward the rolling darkness; boundless laws of the Dao flooded into his mind.

As the old physician had said, though the Descendants’ Dao had lost its will, its laws surged violently, like a vast scroll slowly unfurling before him.

Around Ji You, mysterious light blazed; a thousand hues of radiance shimmered above his crown.

Meanwhile, in the mountain forests and river valleys, as the last graves were completed, the surviving clan disciples swiftly set out on their southern journey.

Yet along the way, many still speculated about the identity of the ordinary young man.

Especially since his sword art seemed to share origin with Lingjian Mountain, fueling endless conjecture.

In truth, when he first drew his blade against the Descendants, some had vaguely felt he resembled someone—but then again, he didn’t resemble that person at all. Yet that person was dead—this was what left them utterly baffled.

Three days and nights of relentless travel, they finally reached Yipin City in Lingzhou on the fourth morning.

Though the sky here had not yet been fully swallowed by darkness, the influence from all directions still left it gloomy—but even so, they showed a glimmer of relief at having survived.

Yet as they neared the city wall, their foreheads were targeted by a spiritual arrow humming with energy.

On the wall, the cultivator on watch pulled his bowstring taut, eyes sharply alert as he stared down at Gong Buyi and the others.