Chapter 663: The Ancient Puzzle Long Unresolved

It was immediately clear that the entrance to the Cui Clan’s secret realm was located within their ancestral hall. The bronze hall that once housed the Qinghe Sword and the Dragon Bird lay nearby, making this something of a homecoming for the Dragon Bird.

Regrettably, Dragon Bird seemed entirely uninterested in revisiting its old dwelling. It remained silent, curled up in the ring like a sulking tortoise. Beside it crouched River of Stars, like a curious child sitting next to an elder sister, gazing inquisitively at the surroundings.

As for why a saber and a sword quietly resting in Zhao Changhe’s ring could evoke such vivid imagery for him—well, it was not because he was a deviant. It was due to the aftermath of the battle with Desolate Calamity. The manifestations of the two weapons’ spirits had become increasingly vivid, their presence so tangible that Zhao Changhe could almost see the human-like silhouettes overlapping with the physical blades—a surreal illusion resembling two children peering out.

At this rate, he wondered if he would ever have the heart to pit them against another blade in combat again. This was especially so for River of Stars, as it resembled nothing more than an infant.

Whoever came up with the concept of weapon spirits was a real lunatic.

Still, reflecting on the ultimate form of a spirit, such as the blind woman—a spirit fully independent and capable of stirring storms on her own—it made a bit more sense. Perhaps he was breaking new ground in this domain, going even further than Xia Longyuan. Was this due to his prolonged interactions with the blind woman?

These thoughts flitted through his mind as Cui Wenjing opened the entrance to the secret realm. As the sensation of spatial distortion rippled through him, the environment shifted dramatically. What had been the serene, tranquil surroundings of Qinghe Commandery gave way to an eerie subterranean cavern.

The cavern was vast and sinister, its jagged rocks jutting like fangs from the walls, creating a menacing, chaotic atmosphere. The air was thick with almost palpable malice, suffused with a violent aura that sent shivers down one’s spine. Walking through it reminded Zhao Changhe of his own blood-soaked killing intent. This place clearly bore the essence of an ancient, malevolent presence. It reminded Zhao Changhe of his own vicious blood qi. It seemed almost certain that the lingering vicious qi formed through the slaughter of countless beings, lingering undiminished through the ages.

Setting aside his innate inclination honed through the inheritance of Lie’s martial arts, Zhao Changhe could not help but think that this presence was a perfect embodiment of bloodthirst and brutality. If anything, it was more fitting to call this presence a blood demon rather than a blood god.

And buried here was undoubtedly a classic representation of such a demon.

Yet, layered atop this malevolence was a profound and righteous qi, permeating the air and suppressing the malice. It prevented the vicious qi from harming those who entered or leaking out into the world beyond.

As they ventured deeper, the temperature steadily rose, resembling the oppressive heat at the heart of a volcano. By all rights, the cavern should have felt like a scorching furnace. However, thanks to the balancing influence of the righteous qi, the heat was almost pleasant; it was like stepping into an air-conditioned room on a hot summer day.

This righteous qi was the intent of the Qinghe Sword—the will of the mountains and rivers, warding off evil. Its presence had not faded, even though the sword itself had been broken. The essence of the land it symbolized still endured, calming the malice and illuminating the darkness.

At a crossroads further below, a few elders were seated cross-legged. They appeared to be the senior members of the previous generation of the Cui Clan, guarding the family’s core secret ground and cultivating using the energy of Qinghe that permeated the area. The Lu Clan of Gusu had its own dedicated training ground; it was unthinkable that the Cui Clan’s cultivation resources would be the same as those available to ordinary people on the surface. The “test” Yangyang had once mentioned passing likely referred to this very place.

These elders, though absent from the Rankings of Troubled Times, were all clearly cultivators who had unlocked the Profound Mysteries. Perhaps due to years of isolation and lack of competition, they had no recorded achievements to place them on the rankings. Nevertheless, their strength was evident—likely equivalent to those on the Ranking of Man. After all, the hundred or so individuals on that list could not possibly represent every formidable figure in the world.

This was the fearsome foundation of a top aristocratic family.

Of course, the rarity of top-tier masters remained. Such individuals could not simply be produced by resources alone. Foundations ensured that the clan’s core strength would not falter, but the birth of truly elite experts required a unique confluence of factors. In a world without immortality, it was simply impossible for the Cui Clan to suddenly produce an ancestor-level figure out of nowhere.

When Cui Wenjing arrived with Zhao Changhe and his daughter, the elders clearly recognized their guest. They rose slightly from their seats and inclined their heads in respect. “Greetings, King Zhao.”

It seemed that what had transpired on the surface had already been communicated to this hidden place. Even these aged guardians, long removed from worldly affairs, obeyed the family’s decision.

Cui Wenjing asked, “Is everything inside as usual?”

“The purple qi of Qinghe has grown weaker. Without the Qinghe Sword, it will dissipate entirely within a few decades.”

Cui Wenjing nodded. “We are reforging the divine sword. Guard the passages well. Any intruder is to be considered an enemy and killed on sight!”

The elders’ eyes glimmered with excitement, and they bowed deeply. “As the clan head commands.”

The elders stepped aside, clearing the path. Zhao Changhe followed Cui Wenjing down a narrow trail that soon opened into a vast, startling sight.

Ahead lay a fiery hellscape of molten rock, with bubbling lava emitting bursts of heat and flame. Within the lava, fragments of broken skeletons were visible, still not entirely consumed despite the passage of countless ages.

At the center of the lava was a small island-like mountain. A cavern within the mountain radiated an ominous presence, its jagged edges and dark recesses marking it unmistakably as the ancient lair of a demon god. The malice Zhao Changhe had sensed earlier emanated from this very place.

Above the rivers of lava flowed a dense purple qi, like the essence of Qinghe itself, calming the roiling lava into a silent stillness. The qi was most concentrated at the mouth of the cavern, where it formed a dense barrier, sealing it shut.

Cui Wenjing gestured toward the scene and explained, “We’ve constructed various family trial grounds here, though I won’t go into detail. As for the cavern itself, it’s not overly complex. Long ago, an ancient demon god was slain here by the Qinghe Sword. After discovering this site, our ancestors buried the remains, retrieved the Qinghe Sword, absorbed much of the ancient inheritance, and established the clan here.”

Zhao Changhe asked, “Where are the remains buried?”

“In the depths of the lava,” Cui Wenjing replied. “Most of the remains in the lava belong to those slain by this ancient demon. That he himself was buried there feels fitting. I understand your concern about a possible resurrection, but you can rest assured. This one is truly dead, well beyond recovery.”

Zhao Changhe nodded. Based on how secret realms typically form, this one was likely created by the Qinghe Sword rather than the demon. The demon was almost certainly dead and had likely perished before the collapse of the previous era. What puzzled Zhao Changhe, however, was the question of the sword’s original owner. According to Cui Wenjing, there was no mention of the original owner. Where had they gone?

Cui Wenjing seemed to anticipate his confusion. “The Qinghe Sword’s original owner is indeed unknown. According to our ancestors’ records, the sword recognizes its master directly—it seems to have never had an original owner to begin with.”

Zhao Changhe nodded thoughtfully and did not inquire further.

Something about this place felt oddly familiar. He made a mental note to later consult the

Atlas of Mountains and Rivers

to see if there were any records from the ancient Black Tortoise.

Exploring the ancient mysteries was, after all, tied to his overarching quest. However, he had approached it so haphazardly that he had yet to piece it all together. This secret realm of the Cui Clan gave him a sense that unifying the world was inherently part of completing this quest—just another way to walk the path Xia Longyuan had charted, albeit through unconventional means.

The blind woman crossing paths with Xia Longyuan was truly an encounter for the ages.

Cui Wenjing continued, “In any case, our ancestors settled here to cultivate and expand the family. While they did so in part to cultivate in the area’s rich spirit qi, it was primarily out of a sense of responsibility. They feared the potential chaos should the demon ever revive. It was quite literally living atop a volcano, and their vigilance was admirable. I imagine this sense of duty is also why the Qinghe Sword accepted our lineage. At present, the possibility of the demon reviving is non-existent, though what will happen once the residual purple qi dissipates remains uncertain.”

The three of them traversed the air above the lava, heading directly to the cavern. Inside, the space divided into various sections, but they wasted no time, heading straight for the core area.

There, the heat of the earth fire rose in waves. All around were signs that the area had once held weapons and treasures, though these had long since been taken by the Cui Clan. And at the center stood a solitary forge.

It was immovable due to its direct connection to the earth fire. It had thus been left in place, and this room now served as the clan’s own smithy. The signs of recent use made it clear that this was no forbidden ground but a cherished resource, frequently used by the clan.

The irony was not lost on Zhao Changhe. The ancestors had been worried about a potential demon revival, but that concern seemed to have faded over generations, leaving the area a prized asset instead. Only after the Qinghe Sword was broken did the clan grow uneasy, fearing the possibility of cascading repercussions.

Cui Wenjing gestured toward the forge. “What do you think? Is the fire sufficient?”

It was clear that he saw Zhao Changhe as the expert, but in truth, Zhao Changhe was really not

that

knowledgeable in this respect. As he stared at the forge, he was silently consulting his guide.

“Hey, blindie, is this fire enough?”

The blind woman did not respond.

Zhao Changhe sighed inwardly.

No reply? Fine, looks like I’m on my own for this one.

So, he sought a different guide.

“Dragon Bird, could this fire melt you?”

The lazy Dragon Bird suddenly jumped up in indignation.

“This shabby candle?! It can’t even melt the tassel hanging on my pommel!”

Zhao Changhe looked up at Cui Wenjing and confidently replied, “It will do.”