Chapter 569 - A Life Without Regrets, A Sword That Cuts Through Hell - Part 2

The following year.

The hottest topic in the Central Capital was who would win the hand of the Bodhisattva Princess?

Of all the noble clans, two stood out as the undisputed giants, the Ying and He Clans.

Together with the Xie Clan, they formed the famed Three Great Clans of the Great Zhou.

The Xie Clan controlled the elite forces of the Ministry of War, while the Ying Clan commanded the majority of its standing troops. The He Clan, by comparison, was the weakest of the three.

Still, in this golden age of martial cultivation, both the Ying and He Clans had produced exceptional talents, young prodigies with strength and ambition to match.

Ying Xiang of the Ying Clan and He Jiao of the He Clan were the brightest stars of their generation. Both around 20 years old, both already at fifth rank with Five Sources, just one step away from reaching the coveted fourth rank. Their talent far surpassed that of the Crown Prince or the Second Prince.

These were not only brilliant cultivators, but striking young men. They were handsome, poised, and sharp-witted, each with a personality as distinct as his blade.

This year, the Central Capital had become a stage for three names, Li Zhen, Ying Xiang, and He Jiao.

Martial artists and commoners alike delighted in discussing what had become the biggest marriage prospect in the empire, the fate of the Bodhisattva Princess.

And of course, behind the scenes, many were quietly watching, trying to determine which suitor was genuine and which wore a mask.

It was easy enough to play the part during courtship. But what if the man changed the moment she became his bride? That could ruin her for life.

With the new year came new titles.

In early spring, Ying Xiang was granted the title of Prince of Stars by the Human Emperor, in recognition of his efforts in Stellar Sea and Harmony Provinces, where he had slain demonic beasts and aided the people.

Soon after, he was gifted the Manor of Stars, a luxurious estate built upon a rare, high rank meat field, once untouched, now bestowed solely upon him.

The Central Capital was stunned. The entire city whispered and speculated.

But soon, the answer became clear.

The Bodhisattva Princess had been married into the Ying Clan.

She became the wife of Ying Xiang.

Only then did people understand that this grand estate was the Human Emperor’s wedding gift to his half-sister.

Zhen’er, though she had parted with her mother, was now on the path to becoming a mother herself.

The old home was gone, but a new one had taken its place. And in that home, she was the madam. And as the madam, she had much to tend to.

In May, a grand wedding banquet was held. Everyone celebrated, save for He Jiao, whose face wore a permanent shadow.

The Human Emperor personally presided over the ceremony.

And far in the crowd, unnoticed, Li Yuan slipped into the outskirts of the banquet. He drank a quiet toast to his daughter’s wedding.

Then, from afar, he watched as Zhen’er smiled with joy and stepped into her new life as a radiant bride.

The little crow watched too, from a distance.

A few sips of weak wine later, Li Yuan turned and walked away.

The little crow followed close behind.

The flowers of May had not yet withered.

A man walked through the breeze, scented with blossoms, with a jet-black crow perched on his shoulder.

In the midst of the Central Capital’s splendor, there was a touch of loneliness to him. But wasn’t the little crow just the same?

A lonely father and a lonely daughter.

And yet, they had both witnessed something beautiful. That was one of their own, living a perfect, joyous life.

Zhen’er’s days as a bride were filled with happiness.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Ying Shanxing, patriarch of the Ying Clan, was once a trusted advisor to the throne and now served as the imperial tutor.

Xie Feng, uncle of the Emperor, became the grand general.

Ying Xiang was steady and sincere by nature, yet his talent bordered on monstrous. He was, without question, a worthy match. After being granted the title of Prince of Stars, he quickly became one of the most dazzling young figures in the imperial court. His relationship with Crown Prince Ji Yong also grew notably close.

The Human Emperor, though increasingly brutal, executing people on the slightest whim, was still personally overseeing the cultivation of Heaven’s Net for his beloved half-sister Zhen’er.

Li Yuan hadn’t been idle either.

One day, while on a trip to the Myriad Lineages Academy to extract ancestral seal seeds from disciples of the Bladeseekers, he happened upon Zhao Chunxin, who had just returned and was about to begin a recruitment drive for the Black-Clad Guard.

He followed her into the wilderness. Only then did he reveal himself, stepping out with a smile and greeting her casually.

“Senior Sister. It’s been a while.”

Zhao Chunxin hadn’t noticed anyone following her. When the voice suddenly sounded behind her, she instinctively lashed out, a flash of steel instantly guarding her front.

She was no ordinary warrior, commander of the Black-Clad Guard, backed by vast resources. She had long since reached fourth rank, with experience as sharp as her blade. There shouldn’t have been anyone in the world who could sneak up on her like this.

But when she turned and saw the figure behind her, her body trembled and her mind reeled.

Standing quietly behind her was a young man, surrounded by rain-washed forest, still damp from spring showers.

His appearance hadn’t changed at all since the day they’d first met...over 70 years ago. Not even a wrinkle. Not a hint of aging. It was unnatural, unnerving, terrifying even...

“Li Y...” Zhao Chunxin didn’t even know what to call him anymore.

Li Yuan? The Bloodblade Patriarch? Master Li? Or perhaps...Ximen Gucheng? Or maybe, even more disturbingly, the true founder of the Bladeseekers? The man who created the Ruling Blade, Phantom Blade, and Final Blade?

She’d long suspected the last two identities, but had never confirmed them. Yet in that instant, when he appeared, all her doubts seemed to crystallize into certainty.

“Calling you

Senior Sister

was just for old times’ sake. And since we’ve done that...” he said after watching her fumble for words. He then added, softly but firmly, “Shouldn’t you be calling me

Master

?”

The words echoed like thunder in her ears. All the pieces snapped into place.

That restless night. The white flowers in the graveyard. So many fragments of the past suddenly wove themselves into a clear, undeniable truth.

Her face twitched, the scar on her cheek quivering like the slit of a cursed mouth.

With a whoosh, Zhao Chunxin let out a long breath, sheathed her blade, and dropped respectfully to her knees.

“Disciple greets Master.”

Li Yuan got straight to the point. “I’m here because of Zhen’er.”

“Her?” Zhao Chunxin’s heart thudded.

“She’s my daughter,” he continued. “But she can’t cultivate. She only has a century to live at most. I’m asking you to protect her.”

“Your daughter..” Zhao Chunxin was shaken to her core. She no longer had the slightest grasp on what kind of being this man truly was.

One thing was becoming increasingly clear, though. There had to be some hidden connection between Li Yuan and the Human Emperor. Otherwise, why would the Emperor so shamelessly dote on the Princess?

A flurry of thoughts flashed through her mind, but she quickly composed herself and bowed deeply.

“Rest assured, the Human Emperor already ordered me to protect her. And now that I’ve heard it from your own lips, I swear I will guard her with my life.”

Li Yuan helped her to her feet and said warmly, “Come, our lineage still holds many secrets. Let me teach you. How’s your progress with the Jade Seeding Method and Lesser Moon Blade? I can show you a few tricks that will make things easier. Come with me. I’ll teach you everything, one step at a time.”

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

And just like that, another nine years passed.

The Human Emperor grew crueler by the day. Famine spread. Disasters, both natural and man-made, swept the land. Suffering was everywhere.

Even Cloudpeak Province had been swallowed by the Evernight. Half of Ocean Province was lost as well.

Zhou Na, better known as Peng Mingyi, passed away of old age. Though the times were hard, he managed to keep his village going. They planted what they could, hunted what they dared, and no one starved.

The leader of the Black Lotus Cult, who once opened the floodgates of chaos, turned out to be little more than a pitiful pawn.

Zhen’er gave birth to a son. He bore a striking resemblance to Li Yuan.

She named him Ying An. The

An

stood for peace and safety, that had always been a mother’s deepest wish for her child.

Li Yuan’s ancestral seal seeds had now accumulated to 138,000. His combat power had grown from 38k~807k to 38k~875k.

The pace had slowed, but the power kept growing.

He was still waiting. Patiently. But even the most patient might come to realize that perhaps he had hoped for too much.

In the end, everything still marched toward its destined conclusion.

The struggle between Archon Star and Outerborn would not veer off course. The Underworld would unify. Yan Yu would vanish. The Dragon Vein would return through borrowed flesh.

Yet Li Yuan bore no resentment toward the Human Emperor. After all, who had the right to deny another their chance to live?

Meanwhile, in the Eastern Sea, the ancient hall had fully connected with the surface world.

Leaders from the Arcane Supreme Sect and Five Spirits Institute began to enter and explore it.

And to everyone’s astonishment, Ping'an was chosen as the eleventh person to accompany the team into the ancient hall.

Inside, they discovered a realm teeming with bizarre, incredibly resilient and wildly powerful creatures.

The sect leader of the Arcane Supreme Sect referred to ancient texts and gave these monsters a name, fiends.

Due to their blood-soaked appearance and crimson aura, they were also called blood fiends.

Each advance into the temple brought treasure, exotic herbs, secret relics, and even strange minerals completely unknown to the Immortal Domain.

The morale of the Eastern Sea soared. It was a golden age of discovery.

In contrast, the Central Plains were in ruins.

As joy and celebration filled the Eastern Sea, the common folk in the Central Capital died by the thousands.

One by one, more and more powerful cultivators fled the imperial capital.

Once someone reached fifth rank, they rushed to board the airships bound for the Eastern Sea’s Immortal Domain, only to become cannon fodder in the ancient hall’s depths.

And yet, they came.

Because everyone believed the future was in the Eastern Sea.

The mortal world was beyond saving.

“So...in the end, no deviation after all?”

A long, heavy sigh echoed through the Human Emperor’s palace.

Truly, the phrase

a solitary emperor

had never been more fitting.

His headaches had gone from occasional and intense to occasionally absent.

And more often than not, he was gripped by fits of violent rage. No one even knew how many lives had already been taken by his hand.

But at this moment, he rose quietly, and the first thing he did was summon Ying Shanxing. To this old statesman, who had survived since his days as the governor of Hidden Dragon province, he handed a cup of poisoned wine.

Then he called for the Minister of War, Xie Feng,

The commander of the Black-Clad Guard, Zhao Chunxin, came next.

He issued an imperial decree and passed it to Feng Yun.

Finally, he summoned Crown Prince Ji Yong.

There was no doubt. The next ruler would be the heir of the Ying Clan.

But after sending everyone away, the Human Emperor requested a private audience with Zhen’er, now titled Princess Consort to the Prince of Stars.

Zhen’er had long since grown into her role as a proper noblewoman. No longer the wild and willful girl of the past, she bowed respectfully. Yet when she looked at the Emperor, worry showed plainly on her face.

All under heaven feared the Human Emperor. Everyone...except her.

He saw the concern in her eyes and offered a faint smile. Then he handed her a small jade box, no bigger than a palm.

“This book inside is a martial cultivation manual. It’s the result of my lifetime of study, compiled from every technique across the realm. It’s designed so that more people can cultivate, not just the gifted few.

“Once I’m gone, make good use of it. Spread it. Let the people become martial artists, let everyone be able to eat from the meat fields. Maybe...just maybe, that will be a way to shelter the world.”

“Your Majesty...” she whispered.

The Human Emperor rose and stepped down from his nine-dragon throne.

Zhen’er watched his retreating figure and felt with aching certainty that this was farewell. Her throat tightened.

Then, suddenly, the Human Emperor paused.

“Have you ever met your father?” he asked without turning.

Zhen’er froze. Father? That word felt so impossibly distant, like it had never truly belonged to her.

She slowly shook her head.

The Emperor gave a small smile.

“Take care...”

With that, his figure faded from the hall, disappearing like mist.

He walked alone, hands clasped behind his back, heading toward the darkest, most death-soaked corner of the land.

For years, he had not only waited in vain for some fated shift, he had also been contemplating how, one day, he might strike at the Underworld itself.

That time had come.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Midwinter.

Snow fell in thick, smothering waves. The streets had long since emptied. The wastelands held no trace of man.

The Human Emperor soared into the sky, toward the heart of the sea of shadow, a place where Yin energy rolled like a black tide.

The Emperor’s silhouette rose higher and higher, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of feet...until it pierced the clouds.

But unlike the golden brilliance it once radiated decades ago, the imperial shadow now shimmered with something far more eerie.

Strange hues clung to it, writhing and twitching as though aware of what was to come. They crawled up the Emperor’s figure, trying to seize him, possess him, swallow him whole.

But not yet. The Human Emperor still held command over all.

He gazed into the swirling abyss of Yin energy.

Memories of his life flickered past like lanterns in a storm.

And then he laughed, loud and unrestrained. It was a laugh of defiance, of peace, of no regrets.

One swing of his sword, and the sky collapsed. That slash did not care for life or death. It was for the common people. And for that one phrase whispered across a lifetime.

“I’m willing.”