Liuyun Peak.
Xue Zhenzhen sat beneath the flowering tree, unmoving for a long while, Gu Ruhui’s words still echoing in her ears.
“Shimu, Xue Cuo… is in Qianyun Marsh.”
“He’s still alive.”
She lifted her teacup and drained it in one go.
Nothing could make her happier than knowing her child still lived. She had thought she might never see him again in this lifetime.
Had he grown taller? Was he living well?
Did anyone keep him company?
Did he still remember Liuyun Peak? Did he remember his mother?
She thought of him at birth, a tiny bundle, eyes and brows not yet formed, crying until his face flushed red. She thought of when he first learned to walk, so round and unsteady he tumbled across the grass and rolled all the way to Mirror Lake.
She thought of his little house, his small wooden sword, the way he practised day after day, only for her to dismiss it all as worthless. She remembered the child lowering his head in disappointment, that restless little bud of hair bobbing as he fidgeted.
She should not have scolded him. If he was dull, then he was dull. If he could not learn the sword, then so be it. He need never have learnt at all.
So when Gu Ruhui said, “Eldest shixiong has taken the path of Xianghuo Divine Dao,” she merely paused for a moment before replying calmly, “That is not a bad path.”
Reassured, Gu Ruhui took his leave. Pressed for time, he departed swiftly, leaving her alone on Liuyun Peak.
Xue Zhenzhen sat in a daze for a while, then returned to her cave dwelling and opened her private storehouse.
Her child had been gone for twenty years. He was likely taller than her now, perhaps bearing more of his father’s features, perhaps more handsome.
It should have been a happy thought.
She stood there for a long time before realising her face had gone cold with tears. In the distance, the Dragon Might Sword prodded restlessly, as though watching that stiff, unyielding woman awkwardly wipe her eyes.
She began to gather things.
Over the years she had amassed countless heavenly treasures, as well as materials for sword cultivation. She had even forged weapons for Xue Cuo from the age of eight to eighteen. Now they were of no use. She waved them aside and turned to the rest.
Ten-thousand-year spirit ganoderma.
A blood-red jade marrow rarely seen in a hundred thousand years.
Dragon horns, phoenix feathers, robes, artefacts, treasures.
When she had finished, the storehouse stood nearly empty, leaving only a few unused swords and manuals.
She packed everything away, then flew to the ageless forest where her son had once lived, drawing thousands of rare evergreen pines into a mustard-seed space.
A thunderous crash rang out across Liuyun Peak. Spiritual energy drained away, leaving only a few lonely clouds behind.
The disciples of Tianyi Sect had no idea what had happened. They only saw the mountain collapse in part, the peak sheared clean in half.
Terrified, they scrambled to summon their masters and the sect leader. Elders emerging from seclusion stared at one another.
“Do you know what happened?”
“No.”
“Find a disciple and ask, could it be the demon clans attacking our boundary mountain?”
“Not so, Sect Master. I just saw Elder Xue of Liuyun Peak come out, gather the evergreen pines with a gesture, and head south.”
The elders bristled. “That Xue Zhenzhen! Utterly lawless! Relying on her swordsmanship to defy the sect rules and damage the grand formation. She has no regard for discipline at all!”
The younger disciples, pale with fear, whispered, “Then… should we report this to the Wendao Palace and have the Law Enforcement Hall arrest her?”
The sect master choked, unable to reply. The elders exchanged glances in silence.
“Sect Master?”
His face shifted through several colours before he snapped, “Idiot! Go and clean up Liuyun Peak at once. If your Martial Uncle Xue returns and finds a mess, I will hold you responsible!”
The disciple was thoroughly bewildered but dared not disobey. As he trudged off, he muttered to a senior brother, “Third shixiong, who exactly is this Elder Xue?”
The senior jerked his chin towards the boundary stele at the foot of the peak. The disciple read it word by word, then sucked in a sharp breath.
“Dragon Might Swordmaster’s school…”
Was that the ancient divine sword, Dragon Might?
Beneath it, a sword mark carved several bold, soaring characters:
Jun Wuwei of Tianyi Sect.
Jun Wuwei… the foremost sword of the Eastern Divine Lands?
The disciple went dizzy and dropped to the ground, not daring to utter another word as he stared at the towering peak.
—
Xue Zhenzhen did not tear through the void. She rode a cloud instead, only to halt midway.
Green pines. Flowering trees. A white-robed sword immortal stood there, robes pure as snow, features like a painting, quietly watching her.
She did not know whether he had come deliberately or by chance. She merely stopped, wanting to bring the past to a close.
Since she had declared she would not see him again, Jun Wuwei had indeed kept his distance. A thousand years of feeling, severed by her sword, and he had followed suit without hesitation.
Had she once hoped he would turn back? Perhaps.
A century as husband and wife, a millennium as confidants. To reach this point… the fault was hers. Misjudgement, misplaced trust, and that lingering unwillingness to let go. But there was no need to speak of it now.
Her master had always said that a woman’s sentiment was a flaw in the sword, a barrier to the Great Dao.
As a child she had resented that bias and trained all the harder, surpassing every senior. She had been the finest in Taiyi Sect, better than countless disciples.
Yet now, she fell just short of Jun Wuwei.
That single margin was what she could not relinquish: fate, and Xue Cuo.
She did not want the ultimate sword. She only wanted her son safe.
Jun Wuwei stood calm and distant, as always. Like every argument, he was the first to fall silent, meeting her anger with quiet composure.
“Swordmaster, do not go any further.”
She looked at him directly. “Why.”
He glanced at the sky, then lifted a hand. The concealment around her dissipated, revealing the calamity aura wound thickly about her. His pupils shrank. He stepped forward before forcing himself to stop.
“You opposed the Swallowing Viper and resisted the great calamity. You are already entangled in it, burdened with immense karma. You should not act further in the world.”
She did not sneer. She almost seemed puzzled, then faintly amused at her own thought. “I had thought… never mind. You may go.”
Disappointment flickered across his face, quickly hidden. “Swordmaster, I do not understand.”
“You know Xue Cuo was born into this calamity and will die in it. He is no ordinary person. He has his destined path.”
“All of this is futile.”
“Let him go.”
She turned sharply, anger and confusion alike in her voice. “How? Jun Wuwei, you are the master of this path. Tell me—how do I let go?”
“Unite mind and sword. Sever cause and effect.”
“Absurd. Utterly absurd.”
“If you trust me, I will help you. You cling too tightly, and so you are trapped in the calamity. Every trace of anger you feel now is stirred by it. Continue like this, and you will breed inner demons and perish in the great tribulation, Xue Zhenzhen.”
She drew her sword. “Jun Wuwei.”
Her blade pointed at him. “I told you to leave.”
She would not argue further. She would find her son and tell him how deeply she regretted these years.
But the moment her sword left its sheath… the wheel of fate began to turn once more.
The sky split open. From the rift emerged a monstrous form, neither dragon nor serpent, vast and pitch-black, radiating a savage, malignant aura. The ancient beast she had hunted for over a decade. Swallowing Viper.
It fed upon the blood and suffering of the mortal world, roaming amidst disaster and plague, growing ever stronger on resentment.
“Xue Zhenzhen.”
Its voice rolled across the heavens, stirring foul winds and cold rain. “Ten years apart. The time has come to wash away my shame. I have come for your soul.”
Her robes snapped in the wind, her plain skirt billowing. The Dragon Might Sword rose beside her, transforming into a crimson dragon, facing the beast across the sky.
Rain slanted down. This karmic entanglement, sown long ago, could not be undone. The calamity clinging to her grew heavier and heavier. And the fate she could no longer resist had finally descended.
She had been a mother for over twenty years, yet it seemed she had never spent a single full day with Xue Cuo. But now, she could take no further step.
She had failed as a mother, unworthy of the title. It was her fault for bringing her son into this world without ever caring for him.
She hoped that Xue Cuo had friends and family in the human realm, that he would forget her as a figure of the distant past. In that way, he would know no sorrow for her absence.
She should draw her sword. Her son still lived in the human world, and as a mother, she owed him a place of peace.
Xue Zhenzhen gripped the Dragon Might Sword, gazing at the colossal being above with no hint of fear. Jun Wuwei finally moved, leaping before her, his expression as cold and unyielding as ice. “Swordmaster, leave.”
Xue Zhenzhen cast him a single glance, her heart unmoved. “I do not understand your ways, Jun Wuwei. My doom has come. This is my fate. As Master of the Divine Sword, I must strike Him. If you wish to ascend, stay away from me.”
Her voice bore no resentment, only calm acceptance. Yet for Jun Wuwei, it was like a knife twisting in the chest.
The Swallowing Viper stirred in the heavens.
Muttering curses at the white-robed Sword Immortal, it fixed its gaze on Xue Zhenzhen, mouth opening wide, resolved to devour her whole.
“Mortal, die!”
The world convulsed. The earth trembled and mountains split. Raindrops froze into sharp knives, raining down to kill countless lives.
The Swallowing Viper, now a convergence of great calamity, could scarcely reveal its true form. Once elusive like a phantom dragon, its restored strength and lingering grudge compelled it to manifest fully, intent on consuming the woman.
Xue Zhenzhen swung her sword with unflinching resolve. A brilliant rainbow of sword energy tore through the sky, carving out a void.
Tun Hu’s black scales split asunder, and it bellowed in fury. “Woman, you deserve death!”
It surged upward, generating a cataclysmic Dao manifestation that engulfed both Xue Zhenzhen and the white-robed figure.
Jun Wuwei grasped her again. “Swordmaster, follow me.”
Xue Zhenzhen stood tall, looking back from above. “This is my tribulation, one I must face alone. It concerns you not.”
With a mighty swing, she sent Jun Wuwei flying out of the Dao manifestation with a gust of wind.
His robes fluttered, torn. He stared at his displaced hand, unable to comprehend.
Tun Hu and Xue Zhenzhen clashed in a battle that shook heaven and earth. To win, he unleashed endless natural disasters, drowning the Divine Lands, devouring vast stores of blood and energy.
The earth ran red as rivers of blood. Countless lives were destroyed.
Entire cities were reduced to ash in an instant, leaving only bloodstains and bone fragments. Souls wailed through the darkened skies. Daylight vanished. The Divine Lands had become a purgatory.
Xue Zhenzhen bled from her mouth, her spiritual domain cracking. Leaning on the Dragon Might Sword, she faltered, then rose again. Her dark hair slowly faded to pure snow-white.
Meanwhile, the oppressive sky shifted. Cloud layers parted, revealing the ninefold heavens, where magnificent rosy clouds shimmered. The Great Dao coalesced into a sword, piercing heaven and earth. Both invisible and tangible, it embodied life and death, calamity and sin.
It had begun as a seed, nourished by millennia of accumulated sin, growing into minor tribulations to punish living beings.
When minor tribulations proved insufficient, they became the great calamity that would devastate the Divine Lands.
The great calamity would return heaven and earth to chaos, dissolving distinctions of life and death, above and below, yin and yang. All would return to unity. After eons, new life would arise, multiplying in cycles, and the world would begin anew.
This time, it was not merely a calamity of heaven and earth, but also a trial of sainthood. The sword of the Heavenly Dao held the chance to attain true sainthood. A phenomenon unseen for millennia.
…
The Demon King’s Court.
The Six Saints Temple blazed with incense, worshipping the six Demon Saints.
The sky split open, revealing the majestic ninefold heavens. There hung a sword of calamity, its oppressive weight shaking the earth and shattering the Demon Court.
A gigantic peacock shadow suddenly spread over the court.
With a clear cry, it stabilised the trembling court. Eyes blazing with divine fire, it incinerated the descending calamity. A smaller peacock flapped to its side. “Great Sage!”
The Southern Peacock King spread his feathers, shielding the Demon Court beneath them. His cold, melodic voice said: “The Heavenly Tribulation has arrived prematurely.”
The little peacock’s feathers bristled. “What! Premature? But my demon clan—!”
The Southern Peacock King looked skyward, dispelling the falling calamity flames with his power. “The Tribulation of Sainthood is a phenomenon unseen in aeons. Alas, your cultivation is too shallow to contend with it.”
The little peacock landed beside the King, voice low and dejected. “It is my failure.”
Kong Yun, heartbroken, realised something was wrong. “Great Sage! Your body!”
The Great Peacock King’s form was rapidly fading. His statue shattered; the incense scattered, leaving no hope of resurrection. Anticipating this, the Southern King soared, wings outstretched, his voice flowing like a gentle smile in the little peacock’s ear: “My ultimate wish is freedom. Millennia ago, the demon race fell through us. Now, each sip and morsel repays the karma and honours our clan.”
Kong Yun, enraged, hissed, “Great Lord!”
…
The human world.
The Sixteen Cities of Fangzhou.
The earth split open. Mysterious flames fell from the sky.
The cities were ablaze, yet the flames were not celestial fire. They were massive fire formations, protecting the cities from natural disaster.
The Tiandu Guards, shouting themselves hoarse, patrolled tirelessly. Atop the city, a silver-furred cat dashed, extinguishing fires and smashing rocks, steadfastly defending Tiandu City.
Yin Feixue’s hair stood on end, eyes molten gold. Amid the chaos, he gazed southward toward the Great Loch, itching to end the disasters and confront him. “Xue Cuo.”
…
Qingzhou.
The Nine-Bend Yellow River floated above the city. The goddess’s spectral form stretched between heaven and earth, shielding her people.
She looked to the Nine Heavens, flinging a coloured silk ribbon to shatter the falling black flames and the aura of the great calamity. Softly, she whispered: “Great Loch, do not fail me.”
…
Qianyun Mountain.
The goddess’s eighty-nine peaks rose like a fortress, forming a complex array.
At its centre hovered a blue figure, lotus in hand, talismans swirling around him, scattering in all directions.
He held his fingers aloft. A wave of energy stirred a terrifying gale.
Black hair streaming, robes like clouds, he struck the critical stroke at the array’s heart.
“Endless.”
“Rebirth.”
“Open.”
With a tremendous boom, the world inverted. The vast lakes and mountains vanished; villages and people faded into obscurity.
A divine kingdom of black skies and white earth rose, covering the entire Qianyun Marsh. Towering pagodas and buildings stood in majesty, and countless souls, armoured and armed, stood amidst the swirling paper money.
Chen Zongping, sword of soul-slaying at his waist, rode a towering ghostly steed, eyes resolute, galloping past the innumerable ghost soldiers. “Shixiong! All ghosts of the underworld, obey your orders!”
The brothers and sisters of the Goddess Temple, led by Fang Longxi, watched in awe as the world inverted. Xuan Zhao leapt first, shouting, “All monks of the Goddess Temple, obey your orders!”
“Obey, shixiong!”
Wind and clouds surged. Sky and earth changed colour. Amidst the roaring wind, the young man hovered calmly, talismans flickering at his fingertips.
Black hair brushing his cheek, he flicked his hand, sending talismans flying, transforming into a gentle rain that silently nurtured everything below.
“Under command.”
