Chapter Thirty-Four: Deadly Struggle

Slaying the Firmament showed not the slightest weakness, wielding a blood-red sword that seemed to merge seamlessly with his hand. This sole weapon had accompanied him through two millennia, becoming an extension of his very being. Its power had already shattered limits previously thought unbreakable.

The clash between the blood sword and the bone sword reverberated throughout this ancient, silent land, stirring waves of turbulence.

“Sever Reincarnation!”

With his sword, Slaying the Firmament unleashed a move he had never used before. As he executed Sever Reincarnation, six pitch-black holes appeared behind him. Legend spoke of the Underworld, within whose depths lay the realm of reincarnation. Could these six dark holes behind Slaying the Firmament be the fabled Six Paths of Reincarnation?

Li Ruoyu did not know if those six holes truly represented the Six Paths, but he understood the gravity of Sever Reincarnation. Slaying the Firmament had once vowed to shatter the heavens, to break reincarnation itself. Clearly, he had pursued countless attempts and explorations over these two thousand years. This move, Sever Reincarnation, must have been born for a reason.

Li Ruoyu’s senses felt a profound threat; one misstep, and death would come. This was a pure, instinctive feeling.

He trusted this intuition deeply. Gathering all his spirit, energy, and soul, Li Ruoyu drew forth the Great Soul Banner for defense. Gripping the bone sword, he launched the move “Eternal Beginning” at Slaying the Firmament.

The moment “Eternal Beginning” met “Sever Reincarnation,” Li Ruoyu felt waves of devouring force sapping his vitality, as if returning to the void, as if re-entering the cycle of reincarnation.

“Are those six dark holes truly the Six Paths?” Li Ruoyu wondered in alarm. Even the Great Soul Banner could not fully ward off this devouring power, attesting to its extraordinary and terrifying might.

Though on the defensive, Li Ruoyu’s fighting spirit remained undiminished, his resolve unwavering. He sensed his Dao intent advancing rapidly under such pressure; its strength grew, and he infused it into the bone sword, slashing at the six black holes behind Slaying the Firmament. Sweat trickled down his brow, betraying the difficulty of his situation.

Meanwhile, the six holes behind Slaying the Firmament began to blur, as though about to dissipate, but stabilized again under the reinforcement of his Dao intent.

Li Ruoyu realized that, at this moment, defeating Slaying the Firmament could no longer be achieved by relying merely on treasures or secret arts. Slaying the Firmament was a whole realm above him, but most fearsome was the man’s unwavering Dao. No cunning, no deception—just pure resolve. Simple, but all the more terrifying for its purity. Two thousand years of life, countless brushes with life and death, myriad worldly experiences, all had forged a will nearly unshakable.

Since nothing could overcome Slaying the Firmament, Li Ruoyu resolved to employ the most dangerous—and most direct—method to end this battle.

Life or death, nothing more.

Li Ruoyu sheathed the bone sword, holding only the Great Soul Banner. Though related, and infused with the power of the Desolate Body, he felt the banner suited him more: the tip for slaughter, the face for protection. This was the insight he gained from wielding both banner and sword.

“Today, with my twenty-three years of Dao, I will sever your path,” Li Ruoyu said calmly as ever, gazing into the deep eyes of Slaying the Firmament.

“Then my two thousand years of Dao were wasted? Twenty-three years, ha!” Slaying the Firmament was amused by Li Ruoyu’s words.

Li Ruoyu, holding the Great Soul Banner, unleashed only the power of his own Dao, thrusting at Slaying the Firmament like a giant spear piercing the heavens.

“Command the Dao.”

Slaying the Firmament witnessed the scene and uttered those words. Though his face remained impassive as a mountain, the astonishment in his eyes was evident—his heart was thoroughly shaken.

To command the Dao is for a cultivator to manifest nearly all the Dao they comprehend, imbuing their attacks with terrifying Dao intent. This is not a contest of cultivation or treasures, but a battle of pure Dao. In the cultivation world, unless facing mortal enemies, one rarely resorts to this; once invoked, it decides superiority and life or death.

This is why Dao-initiated cultivators are so fearsome.

“If you wish to die, I will grant you your wish,” Slaying the Firmament, though surprised, remained unafraid. Gripping his blood-colored sword, he commanded his Dao and struck at Li Ruoyu.

“Where am I? Who am I?” Li Ruoyu found himself standing amidst a verdant bamboo grove, perplexed.

“Sky, dinner’s ready.” At the door of a bamboo hut stood a delicate fairy in a flowing white gown, holding a bowl and chopsticks, calling out.

“Me? Sky?” Li Ruoyu looked at the fairy in white, puzzled.

The fairy, after setting down the bowl and chopsticks, walked over and tapped Li Ruoyu’s head. “Silly, who else would I be calling?”

Still bewildered, Li Ruoyu was pulled into the bamboo hut by the girl. He picked up the bowl and chopsticks, gazing at his own youthful face reflected in the soup, barely eleven or twelve, a head shorter than the fairy. He muttered, “Who am I?”

“Who else? You’re Yan Sky! My younger brother, Yan Mo’er’s brother! Is your mind muddled?” Yan Mo’er, the fairy, tapped Li Ruoyu’s head with her chopsticks—a habitual gesture.

“I’m Yan Sky? You’re Yan Mo’er? My sister?” Li Ruoyu pointed at himself, then at Yan Mo’er.

Yan Mo’er circled him, touched his forehead, and said with doubt, “Not hot. Maybe you never fully recovered from last time’s fever?”

A meal passed in Li Ruoyu’s confusion.

The sun sank, stars filled the sky. Li Ruoyu lay on the bed in the bamboo hut, gazing out the window at the starry heavens. He wondered, “Am I Yan Sky?” No answer came, only the chirping of insects outside. Time flowed gently, Li Ruoyu continued to stare at the glittering sky. Two hours later, the stars were unchanged, picturesque and enchanting.

Staring at the stars, Li Ruoyu’s confusion deepened. “Is this the real world?” His uncertain words echoed in his ears.

Days passed, serene yet warm. Li Ruoyu seemed lost in this tranquility. Until one day, a white-haired Daoist soared over the bamboo forest, suddenly halting in mid-air, breaking the peaceful routine.

The white-haired Daoist descended before Li Ruoyu and Yan Mo’er, holding a whisk.

“Child, would you follow me to cultivate immortality, inherit my teachings?” The Daoist asked Li Ruoyu.