T/N: Thanks so much to Saulene for the Kofi donation! Here’s the regular update and a couple bonus chapters for you! (I posted two extras since they were so short.)
Ch. 89 – Sprout
The God of War, Yinglong?!
This name, which was rarely spoken, seemed to have been heard repeatedly in a short period of time today. But just when everyone thought they had accepted a shocking truth, the reality turned out to be even more shocking.
The perfectly good trial ceremony had become a disaster. First, Xue Ren rebelled, then he took out Fleeting Shadow and claimed that he was acting on Yinglong’s orders to seize Jianmu, which should have long been reduced to ashes, and proceeded to fight his master.
Jianmu then reappeared in the wake of Ji Chengyue’s defeat, and Cao Zirui and a lesser-known disciple seemed to perish under the blade of Fleeting Shadow. But unexpectedly, the grand drama that everyone thought was coming to an end was not over yet.
The real climax was just beginning.
One hundred years later, a god once again descended upon the world.
His fierce appearance was just as intimidating as it was a century ago, and his power was just as great.
The sword glare that even Ji Chengyue was unable to withstand, which had destroyed even Mountain Breaker, shattered under his power, but he seemed to take this as a matter of course. With a mere flick of his fingers, the black blade was no more.
Amidst the swirling flakes of black, the god flicked his sleeves and stood with his hands behind his back, his golden eyes sweeping over the crowd before looking up at Xue Ren, and at Fleeting Shadow in his hand.
The crowd followed his gaze and came to a belated realization.
Xue Ren was acting on Yinglong’s orders, and wielded Fleeting Shadow as proof. But now, the God of War had inexplicably arrived to stop Xue Ren. What was going on?
Everyone was in complete disbelief.
Cao Zirui was equally baffled, but he knew a little more than the others.
He knew why Yinglong had suddenly appeared. It was because of…..the God-Summoning Token…..
When that deadly blade descended, he had told Fang Yang to run, but the other boy hadn’t seemed to hear him at all.
He tried to push Fang Yang’s shoulder to wake him up, but he was too injured to move, and could only sit there and helplessly watch Fang Yang die alongside him.
Before the black blade could reach them, he felt a gust of wind that almost stung his skin, and the sound of something hurtling through the air reached his ears. Fang Yang seemed to have shouted something, but Cao Zirui was unable to hear it.
He instinctively tried to raise an arm to shield himself – a futile gesture, as the sword glare would sever his arm along with the rest of him.
But several seconds passed, and the expected agony did not come. When he opened his eyes in astonishment, he saw a cloud of swirling black mist just like that of Fleeting Shadow.
Each was equally sinister and terrifying, a mere glimpse chilling him to the bone.
But for some reason, he felt that they were slightly different. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
Tentatively, he reached out to touch the black mist. Although he withdrew his hand at once, he was still terrified by the chilling sensation that surged into his body at the moment of contact.
He gasped for breath, shaken as he stared at the black mist surrounding him. He dared not touch it again, but the mist was as fine as silk and as thick as fog, vast and chaotic. Although he did his best to avoid it, he was gradually enveloped by the pervasive mist.
Just as he felt that he was about to be devoured, the black mist suddenly began to deliberately avoid him.
A small pocket of clear air formed around him.
Cao Zirui was baffled by this change, and when he raised his head in confusion, he caught sight of a man standing before him.
He was graceful and proud, steady and powerful.
Cao Zirui stared blankly at the man. The person in front of him clearly should have been Fang Yang.
But this was certainly not him. Fang Yang wasn’t that tall, nor did he have such broad shoulders, and his clothing was completely different. Fang Yang wore the Lingxiao Sword Sect uniform, while the man in front of him wore unfamiliar black robes.
The style of those robes was unlike anything found in the mortal realm, but despite their unfamiliarity, Cao Zirui felt like he had seen them somewhere before.
He just couldn’t remember where. Amidst his confusion, he could vaguely hear a voice outside the black mist demanding to know who this newcomer was.
The man’s response was like a key, instantly unlocking a box of memories in Cao Zirui’s mind. He remembered where he had seen those robes before.
On that jade slip, which recorded the events of one hundred years ago, the god standing high in the clouds had worn just such a robe.
Could it be that this person was actually…..?
Cao Zirui’s gaze suddenly shifted downward. The man had caught the incoming blade with his left hand, while his right hand held…..Fang Yang’s God-Summoning Token.
The incantation on the token glowed with a faint golden light, from which the black mist surged forth.
Cao Zirui’s pupils contracted. He suddenly understood why Fang Yang had vanished, and why this man had appeared in his place.
It was because of the God-Summoning Token. This unnamed summoning token, which should have been nothing but a piece of scrap metal, had actually worked.
The sea otter brothers in North Sea City had said that if the God-Summoning Token was used successfully, a god would descend to the mortal world through this medium and imbue the owner of the token with divine power.
So the man before him was actually Yinglong, the lofty and unparalleled God of War?!
But…..how was this possible?!
Whether or not the summoning succeeded depended upon the will of the gods themselves, which meant that, even more unbelievably, Yinglong’s presence here was voluntary.
Wasn’t Yinglong on Xue Ren’s side? Why would he intervene to stop him and save Cao Zirui and Fang Yang?
Moreover….could the way the mist suddenly surged away from him be the work of the man before him?
The answer seemed obvious. Only this supreme deity was capable of controlling the eerie and terrifying black mist, but Yinglong was supposed to be cold-blooded and ruthless.
One hundred years ago, he had taken so many lives without a moment’s hesitation.
Even though it didn’t seem to take much effort, that he would protect Cao Zirui from the black mist now was incredibly hard to wrap his mind around.
Of course, among everyone present, the one most overcome by shock was not Cao Zirui. It was Hao Chen, who clutched Feng Ye’s body while staring wide-eyed at the man standing with his hands behind his back.
Under everyone’s riveted gazes, Yinglong finally moved.
He stepped across the flat ground, and with each stride, the black mist slowly gathered toward him.
The vast swell of mist continued to dwindle and condense, shrinking until it finally merged into the man’s tall, upright form.
No, it didn’t merge with him. It was he who was composed entirely of the black mist.
With a clear goal in mind, he ignored the looks of shock and fear around him and trained his eyes on Xue Ren, walking straight toward him.
Xue Ren reflexively shivered when he met those golden eyes, and snapped back to reality with a start.
Upon seeing that face, he also thought he was gazing upon the God of War himself. But then he wondered…..why would the god who had granted him his own power stand against him?
Now, he understood. Although the face was the same, the person behind it was entirely different.
The Yinglong he was familiar with always wore a faint smile on his lips, and although he was equally aloof and his eyes held a deep disdain for mortals, he was far more amiable than the man before him.
This God of War wore an indifferent expression, his eyes cold and unfeeling. Such eyes did not belong to a living creature, but to a drawn sword that only knew killing and the taste of blood.
In fact, this visage was more in line with what everyone expected from Yinglong. When he appeared amongst the clouds a century ago, he had worn the same expression.
That Yinglong with a perpetual smile on his face had always seemed a bit off, but his appearance was exactly the same, or if not identical, then so similar that the average person was unable to tell them apart.
Before today, Xue Ren had never imagined that someone so similar to Yinglong existed. So even though he found it strange that the ruthless God of War seemed so mild-mannered, he didn’t harbor any doubts.
But now, he couldn’t help but wonder, if there were two Gods of War…..then which was the real one?
Was it the one in front of him, or the one who had bestowed Fleeting Shadow upon him and also claimed to be….
Wait. Xue Ren suddenly realized that the deity had never referred to himself as Yinglong. Xue Ren’s speculation about his identity stemmed solely from his face, which bore an uncanny resemblance to Yinglong.
A wave of panic immediately crashed over Xue Ren. If the Yinglong he encountered was a fake, then who exactly had he made a deal with?
Ji Chengyue’s words had caused his deeply-held beliefs to waver, but how could he be wrong when a god was on his side? Thus, he firmly believed that he was in the right, and that he was only taking back what should have belonged to him in the first place.
But if that god was fake, did that mean everything else was a lie? Did it mean….he had made a mistake?
“You did nothing wrong.”
Xue Ren turned his head toward the wisp of black mist that had climbed up his shoulder along Fleeting Shadow. It resembled a venomous snake, and flicked its tongue as it whispered in his ear: “I didn’t deceive you. What I bestowed upon you is indeed the power of the God of War.”
“But…..” But the real God of War was right before his eyes.
“Our powers originate from the same source.” The black snake suddenly chuckled, its mouth opening wide as fangs unfurled from its upper jaw. It stared at the man approaching, and hissed in Xue Ren’s ear: “Go and fight for me! So what if he’s the God of War? I am more powerful than him!”
This thing of unknown origins spoke with a boastful tone, but this time, Xue Ren didn’t believe it.
The black snake had not lied to him; it had merely misled him. When Xue Ren mistakenly came to the conclusion that he was Yinglong, the man had not refuted him.
Such a person could not be trusted, and even though he claimed to be stronger than Yinglong, Xue Ren didn’t dare to challenge the other god. That was the ruthless God of War, who killed without blinking an eye. It would be fine if he could win, but if he lost, his death was inevitable.
But at this point, whether or not he wanted to fight or dared to fight, it was no longer up to him.
Xue Ren was horrified to discover that he had lost control of his body. The black mist emanating from Fleeting Shadow had somehow wrapped around every joint in his body.
Although he struggled desperately, he was unable to move. The black mist engulfed him, and at the same time, he felt unimaginable power surge into his body.
He had already felt as if he held the world in his hands after drawing Fleeting Shadow, but at this moment, he truly felt the difference between gods and mortals.
The surging power inflated his confidence. If he had previously believed himself to be the strongest existence on earth, then he now felt that even in the heavens, there was nobody he couldn’t defeat!
He was no longer afraid. Instead, he accepted the black mist’s control with a mixture of delight and submission. The body was Xue Ren’s, but its contents were no longer the same.
Under the eyes of everyone, Xue Ren smiled faintly at the man walking toward him, and then the black mist completely concealed his figure.
It expanded into the air, condensing into a giant python hundreds of meters long. The python twisted mid-air, staring menacingly at the man on the ground, then opened its massive jaws and pounced.
Feng Ye frowned slightly as he scanned the crowd around him. Although many people had retreated out of fear, they were still within the python’s attack range.
The black mist that had already condensed into his body surged once more, and he transformed into a genuine yinglong, soaring upward. Dragon and snake collided mid-air, tangling together as they tore at each other’s flesh with their fangs.
Neither of them were physically present. Instead, they were using Xue Ren’s and Fang Yang’s bodies as vessels for their power. Therefore, the dragon and snake were conjurations of black mist, unlike their scaled counterparts. They were unable to feel pain, and the flesh they tore from one another was simply the black mist that formed their bodies.
As a result, their attacks grew even more ferocious. The snake bit into the dragon’s neck and tore off a hunk of flesh, while the dragon seized the snake with its claws and ripped into it.
They tore at each other in a frenzy, their bodies becoming increasingly mangled as the crowd below watched on in horror. They had never witnessed such a brutal fight. If this dragon and snake had been real, they would have been torn to shreds by now.
Very soon, not even their skeletons remained. Only two amorphous shapes lingered in the air, indistinguishable from one another.
The black mist obscured everyone’s line of sight, making it impossible to see what was happening inside.
The crowd gradually came to the realization that the Yinglong behind Xue Ren and the God of War who had just appeared in person were probably not the same entity. Therefore, they had different goals and were at each other’s throats.
But there had never been stories of two Yinglongs in this world, so there was only one possibility: one of them was a fake.
However, nobody could tell which one was real and which one was fake. The power of Fleeting Shadow was just as strong as they had imagined, but the man with the cold face just now didn’t seem like a fake either.
The crowd stopped speculating and held their breath, paying close attention to the changes in the black mist.
Ji Chengyue was also focused on the black mist, but in contrast to the inquisitive gazes of the others, his expression was tinged with worry.
As for which of the two Yinglongs was the genuine article, Ji Chengyue already had a guess in mind. If everything was as he suspected, then Xue Ren might not have encountered a god at all, and was merely a pawn in the hands of a monster.
And now he was caught up in a battle with the God of War. His chances of survival were slim…..
Despite Xue Ren’s numerous crimes, Ji Chengyue could not simply disregard him, just as he had been unable to run him through with his sword. After all, this was the disciple he had raised.
But there was nothing he could do. In this battle between dragon and snake, mortals could not interfere, and he was relegated to watching from the sidelines with the others.
Out of sight within the black mist, Feng Ye changed back to his human form and rapidly cast about for the enemy lurking in the darkness.
His gaze sharpened, and he swung his head around. Striking behind him with his elbow, he sent “Xue Ren” stumbling back a few steps.
Feng Ye didn’t hold back, and his attack landed squarely. Logically, “Xue Ren” should have felt some pain.
But “Xue Ren” showed no sign of discomfort, and even wore a pleased smile as he playfully scolded: “Feng Ye, is this how you greet someone?”
Feng Ye’s pupils contracted slightly. The other party indeed knew his name.
“Who are you?” he asked sharply.
“Me?” ‘Xue Ren’ smiled faintly, tilting his head with childlike whimsy. “Why don’t you guess?”
Feng Ye frowned. He was unwilling to guess, but just as he opened his mouth to inquire again, something occurred to him.
Feng Ye gazed at the surging black mist around him. It was not under his control, nor had he conjured it. It belonged to the other party.
But as the two were talking, the black mist stealthily climbed up his ankle and attempted to engulf him.
Feng Ye immediately raised his right hand, and those outside saw a ray of light suddenly break through the overcast sky, passing through the clouds toward the vast, ever-expanding black mist below.
The light was unstoppable. The domineering black mist retreated as if it had met its nemesis, and the tendrils climbing Feng Ye’s body instantly dispersed.
Finally, when the light pierced through the black mist, the crowd caught sight of Xue Ren and a man shrouded in light.
As for who was the fake, there no longer seemed to be any doubt.
The menacing black mist immediately became docile in the man’s hand, condensing into a jet-black sword that was similar to but subtly different from Xue Ren’s.
Xue Ren’s Fleeting Shadow didn’t reflect light, but the sword in the man’s hand emitted a faint glow, making it difficult to tell if the light came from the sword itself or from the sky.
This was the true divine sword, Fleeting Shadow!
As Fleeting Shadow took shape, Feng Ye raised his eyes slightly. He regarded Xue Ren with killing intent, but didn’t immediately take action.
He was giving the other party one last chance. Confess honestly, or fight stubbornly with his back to the wall.
However, the other party chose neither of these options.
Xue Ren also raised his Fleeting Shadow as if preparing for battle, but in reality, the black mist that had been controlling his movements was making a silent retreat, giving him back control.
But rather than easing his nerves, this sent him into a panic.
That power…..that power that gave him ultimate authority over life and death was fading away…..
Having committed so many taboos, he didn’t dare to imagine what fate awaited him after losing this power, but it was out of his control. The voice that had been whispering in his ear left behind a mocking laugh as it abandoned him.
And it left with the Jianmu fragment in its grasp.
Feng Ye’s eyes narrowed. Although the other party had cunningly left a large swath of black mist on Xue Ren as a decoy and only used a small amount to ferry away the Jianmu fragment, Feng Ye noticed this immediately. Without hesitation, he slashed at the tiny wisp of black mist.
The light of his sword was as fierce and sharp as it had been one hundred years ago.
Nothing in its path could survive!
“No!” Xue Ren roared, well outside the path of the sword. He could not, would not, lose this power!
In an instant, he turned and lunged toward the fleeing black mist…..and was severed along with it.
Ji Chengyue only had time to call out once: “A-Ren!”
He wanted to stop it, but nothing could stop that blade. Just as he couldn’t stop Yinglong from cutting down Jianmu one hundred years ago, he couldn’t stop him from killing Xue Ren today.
Amidst the falling rain of blood and particles of black mist, Fleeting Shadow transformed back into mist and slowly dissipated.
“Ai, our current strength is insufficient to confront him head-on.” A man who looked exactly like Yinglong stood in a corner beyond the reach of the sun, lamenting to Ling Yun beside him.
He had only realized this when he was already in snake form and locked in combat with Yinglong. Otherwise, he would have lacked the courage to confront Feng Ye, and would have fled with Jianmu instead…..although he had ultimately failed in that endeavor.
Ling Yun’s focus, however, was on something else. For the first time, his placid, stagnant heart stirred with emotion. He gazed up into the sky where Feng Ye stood, the same place where Xue Ren and the Jianmu fragment had been severed together.
Ling Yun’s tone was filled with unconcealed solemnity: “God, Jianmu has been destroyed. We…..”
“Hehe.” The man’s sudden chuckle interrupted Ling Yun. He shook his head and denied: “He wouldn’t destroy Jianmu.”
His tone was extremely confident, and he murmured while gazing in Feng Ye’s direction: “That’s because…..”
Feng Ye stared at the black and red rain falling before his eyes.
Suddenly, he raised his head and looked directly in front of him. Rather than avoiding him like the rest, someone was actually stepping toward him.
It was Ji Chengyue.
Those watching stared blankly at their sect leader, whose face was a mask of wrath. He, a mortal, was challenging a god.
“Why?!” He roared almost at the top of his lungs.
Again and again, why did he keep destroying everything he cared about?!
His shixiong and his disciple had both perished under this man’s sword.
When he saw that familiar face, memories surged uncontrollably to the forefront of his mind.
This face might be unfamiliar to others, since it had only appeared in the world once, but it was strangely familiar to Ji Chengyue – he saw it often in his dreams.
Or rather, in his nightmares.
When Yinglong once more drew Fleeting Shadow, the dazed Ji Chengyue had seemed to see that scene from a hundred years ago before his eyes. A flash of light from that sword, the thunderous collapse of the giant tree, and the heavenly fire that ignited along its trunk and fell to the ground.
All of this combined to form a depiction of absolute hell.
People struggled and screamed within a sea of fire, all while the god remained unmoved among the clouds.
Perhaps gods should be as cold and ruthless as him, but looking back even a century later, Ji Chengyue still felt that such a god was terrifyingly cruel.
How was he any different from those savage demons in myths and legends? Was it merely his handsome appearance that set him apart?
There was no way of knowing.
How could mortals hold a god accountable?
There was nothing they could do but accept it, keep quiet, and forget.
Ji Chengyue seemed to have accomplished the first two points, but forgetting was another story. He had tried his best not to think about it, to seal it away in the darkest depths of his heart. But this scene today, which was like history repeating itself all over again, instantly laid waste to all of his efforts.
He couldn’t forget.
He couldn’t forget the raging, all-consuming fire. He couldn’t forget his shixiong being reduced to ashes. And he could not forget how his disciple Xue Ren died tragically beneath that blade.
And all of this was thanks to the supreme deity before him!
His anger consumed his rationality, but also gave him the courage to confront this god. Even if he were to die here, he wouldn’t care.
He just wanted answers.
“What exactly did my shixiong do wrong?!”
“Is it really so unforgivable for mortals to attempt to ascend to heaven?!”
“Time after time, why do you keep destroying everything?!”
Even a century later, he wouldn’t let even this lifeless piece of Jianmu wood slip through his fingers.
Ji Chengyue roared his questions with every step, until he finally stood before the god.
Feng Ye silently looked at Ji Chengyue. Faced with these questions, he neither answered nor evaded them. He simply stood there, looking back at the man across from him.
Although Ji Chengyue had not imbued his voice with spiritual power, his shouts were so loud that everyone could hear him clearly. He had completely abandoned all of the trappings of a sect leader, his eyes bloodshot due to the intense emotions surging within him.
This middle-aged man who was no longer in the prime of his youth seemed to have traveled back a hundred years, transforming into the shidi who had lost everything, yet could only stand helplessly before the ashes of his shixiong.
“Ai…..” Elder Zhou sighed as he watched this scene.
He wanted to stop Ji Chengyue from angering this god, but knew that he wouldn’t succeed. Ji Chengyue had been suppressing these questions for too long, keeping them bottled up inside for a hundred years.
In order to protect Lingxiao Sword Sect, he had pretended to be indifferent to Ling Yun in front of everyone. He was forced to join the rest in branding his revered shixiong as an eternal sinner. Bearing the responsibility of revitalizing the sect under such circumstances of widespread criticism must have been incredibly difficult.
But just as a blocked river would eventually breach its dam, suppressed emotions would always find an outlet. Today was the day that dam burst, and in his search for answers, he no longer feared death.
Cao Zirui watched his master with concern. He didn’t know much about this grudge from a century ago. Most of it was hearsay, and his master had never spoken to him about it.
Only now did he realize that his master had been keeping so many things bottled up inside. On the heels of this realization came unending worry that Yinglong would take offense and kill his master.
And his fear seemed to be close to becoming reality.
“Why, ah…..” Ji Chengyue asked again. His voice lacked its prior fierceness, and had grown hoarse from his shouting.
When he uttered this final question, Feng Ye moved.
He raised his right arm and extended his clenched fist toward Ji Chengyue.
Cao Zirui exclaimed: “Shifu!”
He tried to stand up and help him, but could only manage to lift himself an inch before falling back down due to his injuries. All he could do was watch helplessly as Yinglong raised his fist to Ji Chengyue.
Then, he flipped this wrist and spread his fingers to reveal what was hidden in his palm.
Ji Chengyue froze, completely dumbfounded.
The man with Yinglong’s face looked up and watched all of this. Feng Ye wouldn’t destroy the Jianmu fragment, because…..
He spoke his belated explanation: “He is too soft.”
His tone was a mixture of lamentation, ridicule, and delight, his feelings so complex that even he couldn’t make sense of them.
He was completely unsurprised by the scene before him, and had no need to see with his own eyes what Feng Ye was holding in his hand. He simply turned his head away, his form slowly dissolving into black mist that concealed itself on Ling Yun’s body.
Ling Yun glanced back, then turned around and left the shadows.
Ji Chengyue stared blankly, unable to comprehend what was happening. Hadn’t Yinglong destroyed the Jianmu fragment? Wasn’t that why he had come here in the first place?
But even in his confusion, he still reached out to take the Jianmu fragment from Feng Ye’s hand. The piece of wood was perfectly intact where it lay across Feng Ye’s slender fingers.
Then he looked up at the person across from him.
The god remained as indifferent as always. He had no intention of explaining his actions or arguing back.
With one last look at Ji Chengyue, he dissolved into black mist and departed from Fang Yang’s body.
The mist vanished mid-air, and the boy, now lacking divine power, immediately began to fall from the sky. Ji Chengyue quickly caught him in his arms.
Only afterward did he have time to look at his palm, where he felt a slight anomaly.
A weak force emanated from it, almost like…..
Ji Chengyue spread his fingers, and his eyes widened.
The lifeless Jianmu fragment in his hand had somehow…..
Sprouted again.
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Neon Dragonfly Translations 