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墨書 Inktalez
On Qingliang Mountain, moonlight streamed through the bamboo house's window, illuminating the interior. After a long night of tossing and turning, everyone was unable to sleep.
Song Qianqiu's cultivation had progressed at an alarming rate. With the Demon King's Scripture and the Great Wilderness Scripture in his possession, no one could stand against him.
He had given everyone a deadline: one month.
Within that month, everyone was to surrender, behead me, and kill Yu Xuanliang, who ruled over the common people. Otherwise, he would wage war, starting with the destruction of ten cities surrounding the imperial capital, leading to the slaughter of millions, all of whom would be turned into Corpse Demons.
The Old Scholar lay injured and near death; even with the Great Zhou Compass, he could only hope for a mutual destruction with Song Qianqiu. Now, with Song Qianqiu's power having more than doubled and the Supreme absent, there was no one to counterbalance him. Even Yu Xuanliang, a deity himself, could not breach the Time Barrier to eliminate Song Qianqiu.
In a certain Mountain Valley, a Corpse Puppet dressed in ancient Taoist elder robes sat quietly in one corner. There were hundreds of them—ancient corpses secretly unearthed by Song Qianqiu over the past year. Their flesh remained uncorrupted, and their Dao Qi still lingered; they must have been formidable figures in life.
Elsewhere in the valley, hundreds of Miaojiang Grand Shamans and some ancient Corpse Demons along with Yin Soldiers filled the area—thousands in total—each sitting in perfect unison as if engaged in some ritual.
Song Qianqiu sat among them, flanked by Meng Xuanjian, the Withered Wood Monk, and the Withered Heart Monk, along with several Taoist masters hunted down by Song Qianqiu. Though their powers were diminished compared to their former selves, they retained much strength—far surpassing the ancient Corpse Puppets surrounding them.
Miao Guanyin, the White-Robed Old Scholar, and the Ghost King stood guard at three points outside the Mountain Valley. "Let’s begin," Song Qianqiu commanded.
As he spoke, the Ghost King tossed the Ghost Seal into the air. The seal spun as countless ghostly symbols floated out, enveloping the Mountain Valley. Then several ancient Corpse Puppets and Miaojiang Grand Shamans had their heads burst open as their powers were drawn into the Ghost Seal. The seal absorbed boundless energy and transmitted it to Song Qianqiu's nearby Holy Monks and other experts. These masters filtered out death energy from their bodies and continuously supplied it to Song Qianqiu.
With thunder rumbling around him, Song Qianqiu's long hair flew wildly as he absorbed immense power to strengthen himself.
To create Corpse Demons, he had expended countless Dao Qi; now he could finally absorb freely.
In the latter half of the night on Qingliang Mountain, a shadow appeared at the window of the Disciples' Quarters.
There were others inside. The shadow seemed wary of alerting them and had no intention of entering. It reached out a hand to caress my face lightly, as gentle as a feather brushing against skin.
The moment the shadow withdrew its hand, I opened my eyes and grasped that hand. It gently slipped away, as if afraid to exert force, yet it still escaped. I stepped out of the room and saw the back of a masked woman in black disappearing into the night.
"Senior Sister Yu?" I said, puzzled, watching her vanish into the darkness. Her aura was unstable, indicating she seemed to be gravely injured. I chased after her down the mountain for a while but soon felt an overwhelming fatigue and turned back, a strange feeling lingering in my heart.
A month had passed, and during this time, Huzi had been diligently practicing the Dragon God Technique. Sometimes he would stand atop the mountain, using the Blood River Map to mentally replicate scenes from battles. Now he had reached the Mahayana Realm and could wield the Blood River Map with ease.
Dongfang Yuqing's Five Elements Sword Technique had also reached a high level. He practiced swordsmanship daily and occasionally went out with Taihe Zhenren, though I had no idea what they were up to. Sometimes they would take Iron Bull along as well.
Guo Daozhen and his son Guo Huaiyi were absent during the day and returned late at night.
Douding and Zhou Manman had healed significantly; Zhou Manman often sought out Yunxi for conversation during these days.
Only Wuzheng seemed to have nothing to do, playfully teasing a beast by scratching its belly, making it laugh uncontrollably.
Although there were many empty houses on Qingliang Mountain, most were uninhabitable. After two hours of repairs, we young ones settled in the Disciples' Quarters. Yunxi and Zhou Manman each had their own rooms, Guo Daozhen stayed in his master's quarters, while Taihe Zhenren resided in the former Qingliang Temple's array room.
Everyone practiced their skills or busied themselves with their own matters during the day, returning home at night. We set up a stove to cook meals together like a family, chatting about trivial matters and sharing happy stories over dinner.
Iron Bull recounted some silly things he did while learning at Mangshan, while Huzi shared amusing anecdotes from his years mingling in the secular world. Taihe Zhenren spoke of his youthful adventures.
This way of life continued for half a month.
During this time, no one mentioned Song Qianqiu. Yu Xuanliang and Li Fugui visited once; Yu Xuanliang examined my body and released the Sun-Moon Divine Fish from my soul. However, upon seeing my body, the Sun-Moon Divine Fish did not swim toward me and even seemed reluctant to approach. As a divine being, it sensed the lingering evil aura of the Book of Life and Death within me, causing it to reject me.
Later, a healer from Qingfeng Mountain was invited by Yunxi. They talked outside for a long time; I had no idea what they discussed.
My Nascent Soul had already withered, looking as if it was about to perish. Guo Daozhen wanted to transfer the injuries from my physical body to my Nascent Soul, but I refused. To become a living corpse was more tragic than death itself. Moreover, even if I could survive as an ordinary person, Song Qianqiu would never let me go.
I knew that Guo Daozhen and Taihe Zhenren were certainly searching for Song Qianqiu's hidden lair.
After twenty days, my body grew increasingly weak. I began to crave water and sensed that my time was running out. Guo Daozhen told me that I had only a month left to live. The Blood Qilin held my life in balance, keeping me perpetually on the edge of hope; any use of Dao Qi could very well lead to my explosive demise.
That night, Yunxi slept beside me and asked, "How about I take you to see the snow-capped mountains again? We could also ride horses on the grasslands."
I shook my head and comforted her, saying, "I'm fine; I just feel so tired every day."
It was a feeling of approaching old age.
Like an elderly person in their twilight years, I wanted to look around one last time, but with Song Qianqiu's one-month deadline looming, if I were not here when he arrived, he would surely spare no one.
During the day, I often saw Huzi Hammerhead practicing at the foot of the mountain in frustration, his breath a bit erratic. I knew he wanted to step into the Tribulation Realm and become Supreme.
Song Qianqiu's Great Wilderness Scripture could stop time within a certain range, but it had many effects on the Supremes. If one of us could become Supreme, we might stand a chance against Song Qianqiu. Furthermore, Miao Guanyin, the White-Robed Old Scholar, and the Ghost King were all exceptionally powerful; someone needed to restrain them first or eliminate them altogether.
To kill Song Qianqiu, one must first get past Miao Guanyin. Additionally, to prevent Song Qianqiu from escaping, we would have to kill the White-Robed Old Scholar; otherwise, the Great Void Technique would be incredibly troublesome. With everyone’s Daoist Arts combined, it would be impossible to seal off the White-Robed Old Scholar's movements.
On the twenty-fifth day of the deadline, that evening during dinner, everyone sat at the table without touching their chopsticks because Taihe Zhenren and Dongfang Yuqing had not yet returned.
As midnight approached and everyone continued waiting, Guo Daozhen took out the Zhou Compass to try and deduce their location. However, he soon frowned and put the Zhou Compass away.
Guo Huaiyi said, "Father, I smell an overwhelming scent of blood coming from the direction of the imperial capital."
The blood-red glow surrounded the Imperial Capital. The Yin Soldiers and Corpse Demons launched a massive attack. Despite the military's advanced weapons and equipment, the endless waves of Yin Soldiers and Corpse Demons turned the Imperial Capital and its surrounding cities into a city of corpses overnight, with countless people meeting tragic ends. Blood flowed like rivers, and the Corpse Qi surged, filling the land with sorrow.
On the second morning, Dongfang Yuqing arrived on his Azure Sword, and everyone rushed out of their homes upon hearing the commotion.
They saw Dongfang Yuqing covered in blood. He staggered a few steps after landing before collapsing, his body riddled with wounds, his back a gruesome sight.
"Help him inside to heal," Guo Daozhen instructed.
Iron Bull and Guo Huaiyi rushed towards Dongfang Yuqing, who said, "Song Qianqiu has already become Supreme."
"What about my master?" Iron Bull asked.
A corpse fell from the sky—a blood-soaked old Taoist with white hair, lying face up, motionless, already a cold body.
Song Qianqiu descended, flanked by Miao Guanyin and the White-Robed Old Scholar. With a smile on his face, Song Qianqiu said, "He's already dead. Did he think Righteousness Song could deal with me? What a delusion."
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