Chapter Fifty-Four: An Assault Across the Ages

Passing through this desolate land of years, Li Ruoyu did not pause. Along the way, he glimpsed ancient remnants of a mysterious woman in white wielding a sword, and saw a strange depiction of an old Taoist riding an ox.

Upon reaching the base of a mountain wall, just as he was about to rest, Li Ruoyu noticed what seemed to be carved characters upon the stone.

"Ten years to hone a sword, a hundred years to become an immortal."

Ten years to hone a sword, a hundred years to become an immortal? A hundred years to ascend? Is it true, or false? If true, what extraordinary being could achieve such? If false, why did these words on the wall emit such a profound aura of swordsmanship?

Suddenly, Li Ruoyu saw an image of a man, sword in hand, tilting his head back to drink straight from a wine jug. The image, no larger than a palm, was similar to that of the old Taoist riding an ox. Yet, curiously, Li Ruoyu found himself irresistibly drawn to it, as though bewitched.

In that instant, Li Ruoyu felt that these words were left by the very man depicted—an intuition, yet one he was certain of.

After a brief rest, Li Ruoyu pressed on and soon reached a strange terrain: before him lay a crouching tortoise-shaped mound, and across from it, a vermilion bird with wings outspread; in the near distance, four mountains pointed towards the heavens.

"The Vermilion Bird faces the mountain, sand and water severed."

Li Ruoyu recalled from the Forbidden Sky Burial Codex various descriptions of ominous, forbidden, and deadly lands; this was one such dread terrain—a natural tomb, the most baleful of all. He could only recognize its name, thanks to the knowledge passed down to him, but dared not venture closer, much less make contact. With no way forward, he could only take a detour, spending two days circumventing the accursed land known as "The Vermilion Bird faces the mountain, sand and water severed."

Yet, as soon as he skirted this deadly tomb, another peril appeared: a vast, tiger-shaped crimson expanse.

"The White Tiger's baleful force reddens a thousand leagues."

This, truly, was Huangshan—the reason it was counted among the most forbidden places beneath the sky. Its dangers and omens went beyond mortal understanding; not only did it hold deadly terrain, but also countless calamities and misfortunes unimaginable to ordinary folk.

Ahead lay certain death. Li Ruoyu considered another detour, but through careful observation, he discovered a slender, winding path—a fragile chance at survival carved where two deadly terrains collided.

After some thought, Li Ruoyu decided against the perilous path. He was no master of such terrain and could not guarantee his safety. Prizing caution above all, he chose the long way around.

Part of Li Ruoyu's purpose in venturing deep into Huangshan was to seek fortune. Though perilous, if fortune was to be found here, it would be unrivaled. Unlike other forbidden lands—where death was the only outcome—Huangshan held a chance, however slim, for survival. Thus, he dared to enter.

After ten days, Li Ruoyu at last bypassed the forbidden zone. Not long after, he felt a familiar presence—a resonance akin to the aura of the bone sword in his hand, the unique essence of the Desolate Body.

"Could something once belonging to the Desolate Body be here? Perhaps a remnant corpse? Or something else related?" Li Ruoyu wondered.

Following the aura’s pull, he arrived beside a stone the size of a table. Lost in thought, he struck it with his bone sword, shattering it. From the debris, a single drop of black blood, sensing his presence, shot toward him.

So swift was the blood that it struck Li Ruoyu’s brow before he could react.

At that instant, an image appeared in his mind: a lone woman in white, sword in hand; a suffocating black snowfall; a black grave bearing a few tufts of grass; a black tombstone with faintly visible characters. "Desolate Body." In that moment, Li Ruoyu understood. He had not expected that the sword-wielding woman in white was also a Desolate Body—one of those who had once appeared upon the Sky of Desolation.

The vision shifted. The extraordinary woman in white summoned her Dao image and battled a black dragon. Though she seemed as powerless as an ant shaking a tree, she pressed the pure-blooded black celestial dragon relentlessly.

"Sword of Desolation."

She unleashed a sword technique infused with the power of years unique to the Desolate Body, hidden within apparent simplicity. Witnessing this, Li Ruoyu glimpsed a possible path for his own Dao.

The black dragon was instantly severed of a horn, which, imbued with the force of ages, fell upon a mountain in the vision. Li Ruoyu felt a jolt of recognition—was that not the very desolate land he had traversed earlier? It had been created by the sword of the woman in white, bathed in black blood. How powerful must she have been, for a single strike to shape a forbidden region that endured to this day?

Though she severed the black dragon’s horn, it was not without cost. With a desperate blow, the dragon wounded her slightly, a drop of her blood falling from the sky to the earth.

The vision shifted again. No sooner had she severed the horn than the space behind her became blurred. From that vague space emerged a shadowy black hand, launching a sneak attack.

The timing was perfect, but after the black hand’s strike, the woman’s figure gradually faded—like mist scattered by wind, like smoke dissolving into air.

Yet her true form, sword in hand, slashed directly at the black hand within the blurred space.

“Even if you come across years and distance to bar my way, you should know I have been waiting,” she declared as her sword severed the black hand. Golden blood flowed from the wound. As the space around the black hand began to dissipate, she raised her sword and charged into the blur, pursuing the hand’s origin.