My Husband’s Ascension C26 (Part 2)
Chapter 26.2 Engulf
After Lord Yaoguang departed, the Blessed Land of Langhuan returned to its former tranquility.
Within the deserted, blessed realm, clouds billowed with the wind, birds chirped deep in the forest, and streams trickled over the gently shifting creek bed. It was as if heaven and earth themselves were quietly brewing some extraordinary change.
Seated at the cliff’s edge, snow-robed Dao Lord remained as immovable as a sculpture carved from ice and jade.
Time seemed to lose all substance, flowing into a void, and his awareness of the outside world dwindled to a minimum. All that remained were the spiritual energies coursing through his Eight Extraordinary Meridians and the spirit force in his soul’s sea of consciousness, on the verge of breaking through its barriers.
He had been stalled at the ninth stage of Dark Oneness Dao for a century, with only three minor realms standing between him and the completion of ascension.
At such a cultivation level, even a single step forward required centuries, or even millennia, of accumulated effort. At times, effort alone would not suffice; one needed heaven-sent opportunities to have hope.
Yunmeng Pier was both a heavenly calamity and the fated chance bestowed upon him.
If he could seize this once-in-a-millennium opportunity, he could ascend another minor realm, drawing yet closer to the ultimate stage of ascension!
Above, hidden thunder brewed among the clouds; a lightning tribulation was about to strike.
Yet Dao Lord Tianshu, who should have focused all his spiritual energy on safeguarding himself, instead concentrated his power, drawing the miasma of the Soul-Shattering Abyss entirely into his own body—
Boom!!
The thunder exploded with the force of heaven and earth collapsing.
A violet bolt of lightning split the sky and ground, its overwhelming might descending like divine punishment, striking directly toward the snow-clad figure!
Pfff—!
Even having prepared himself long ago, when the tribulation lightning truly struck, Dao Lord Tianshu still felt as though his body were being shattered into fragments, a pain that seared through every fiber of his being.
Blood spurted from his mouth, staining his robes, yet he did not spare a glance.
At the edge of his vision lay the Soul-Shattering Abyss, its miasma writhing in grotesque fury.
As if sensing someone attempting to use the pure qi accompanying the lightning tribulation to cleanse it, the miasma surged like a feral beast, wave after wave crashing against the cliffside, threatening to devour this audacious mortal.
He lowered his gaze with indifference, showing not the slightest intention of retreat.
The very pure qi of heaven and earth, meant to temper his sword heart, was gradually devoured by the Soul-Shattering Abyss.
For each portion it consumed, he endured a portion of suffering.
For each portion he endured, the clear qi that could aid his breakthrough was diminished.
If the elders of Kunwu knew that he had secluded himself in the Blessed Land of Langhuan, squandering a once-in-a-millennium chance at advancement on a mere Soul-Shattering Abyss, they would likely have prevented him from coming, even at the cost of their lives.
But here, there was no one to stop him. Those cold, crystal eyes of his had never wavered, never showed a trace of reluctance.
Truly, without reluctance?
He questioned himself, yet in truth, perhaps his motive was not wholly sincere.
After leaving the Blessed Land of Langhuan, he pondered repeatedly the likelihood that Xie Tanzhao had survived.
Though her cultivation was shallow, that day she had absorbed the Wood Spirit of the Soul-Binding Willow using her formation. The Wood Spirit possessed purifying power; if she could wield it, protecting herself from the corrosive miasma might not have been entirely impossible.
Yet all of this was mere conjecture.
Perhaps she had lost consciousness entirely during her fall, or perhaps she could not control such a formidable power, or perhaps the energy had simply been insufficient to sustain her through the miasma.
The chance of Xie Tanzhao surviving was exceedingly slim.
Still, he resolved to come here.
Opportunities for breakthrough could arise again, but if even the faintest chance existed to save Xie Tanzhao, and thereby resolve the karmic entanglement between them, it was worth pursuing.
Xie Lanshu’s departed soul resided within his body, ceaselessly clamoring, threatening at any moment to devour the very rationality he so prided himself upon.
To save Xie Tanzhao, Xie Lanshu could even manipulate his thoughts, conjuring notions like the Maternal Resurrection Rite—acts that utterly violated ethics and reason.
If he continued to indulge this, what unimaginable deeds might he commit for her sake next?
The Master of Kunwu must never lose control.
The Dao Lord, on whom the entire cultivation world relied, must never act recklessly for the sake of a single woman.
Thus—
What matter is one opportunity for breakthrough?
As long as he could bring Xie Tanzhao back, he could regain full control of his sword intent.
If she wished to remain in the cultivation world, then let her remain.
If she wished to train, then let her train.
As long as she lived, Xie Lanshu’s departed soul would settle, sinking once more into the depths of his consciousness, never again disturbing his Dao heart—
The last of the pure qi of heaven and earth poured entirely into the Soul-Shattering Abyss.
At that moment, the tribulation lightning ceased.
From the depths of the abyss, the pure qi surged from the center, instantaneously dispelling the millennium-old toxic miasma and revealing the true form of the cliff bottom.
With almost no hesitation, Dao Lord Tianshu, who had just endured several tribulation bolts, plunged straight toward the abyss’s floor.
He passed through the miasma that had once blocked him, passed through the place where he had saved Shi Lanyan, and passed through the distance that had once brought him within reach of sensing her presence.
The chaotic sword intent raging within him finally calmed at this moment, and the restless emotions in his consciousness, without his noticing, gradually merged with his true self.
Those emotions, which had tormented him inch by inch over these days, surged to the surface in this instant, and were simultaneously soothed by the faint beam of light before him.
There, she was.
Xie Tanzhao was there, waiting for him.
…
The daylight blazed brilliantly.
Dao Lord Tianshu, battered and bloodied, fell heavily onto the grass.
The scars left by the lightning tribulation had shattered his bones; no mere handful of elixir pills could mend them.
Like Zhao Zhao had on that day, he lay on the ground for a long while, unable to move.
Only this time, there was no celestial deer, no healing—he lay alone for the span of an incense stick, gradually regaining just enough strength to rise again.
The small world at the cliff’s base was not insignificant in scope.
He surveyed his surroundings. His vision blurred from injury, he steadied his mind and released his divine sense, letting it spread in all directions.
This place was not recorded in ‘The Langhuan Compendium’, indicating that no one had ever entered.
If the Soul-Shattering Abyss were the only exit, then Xie Tanzhao should still be here; after months, there ought to be traces of her.
He seated himself cross-legged, waiting for the results of his divine sense.
Not there.
Not there.
Not there.
There was no trace of her presence anywhere.
That thick, murky emotion seemed to boil once more within him.
Only when the last thread of his divine sense withdrew did Dao Lord Tianshu finally open his eyes.
Beyond the waterfall—
It seemed something was there.
The Langhuan Bochord had not expected that in just a few short months, this ancient, thousand-year-old hall of books would receive a second visitor.
“The book bears a soul of its own; it selects its master. You must not—”
Before the usual words could be finished, the newcomer’s sword drew tight, and a calm, steady voice spoke,
“Several months ago, did a woman come to this place?”
The overseer of the Bochord fell silent for a moment. “So it’s you.”
Dao Lord Tianshu lifted his gaze lightly, looking toward the void from which the voice came. “You have seen her. Where is she?”
The overseer only laughed, “Young man, your strength is waning; why approach with such murderous intent?”
“In all of existence, affection drifts like dust, fleeting and insubstantial; yet the sword you wield endures forever…”
The shelves of antiquities shimmered with spiritual light, as though countless secret tomes stirred, eager to be opened.
Yet as Dao Lord Tianshu gazed at the manuals of esoteric sword techniques, his eyes were like a deep, ancient well, without the slightest ripple.
“Where is she?” He asked again.
The tomes on the shelves, as if cowed by his presence, settled quietly back into place.
The Bochord overseer’s voice carried a trace of regret, “I misjudged you. I thought you a rare, moldable talent of this world. Yet all you ask is ‘Where is she?’ With such a narrow mind, you are even less capable than that young lady.”
Dao Lord Tianshu’s patience was utterly exhausted. Sword light flashed like a white rainbow, and with a thunderous roar, the left stone wall of the cavern was cleaved to shards by the sword’s strike.
The pale-faced youth’s smile was faint, almost indifferent, “This is the last time. Where is she?”
His voice was refined, yet the murderous intent woven through his words was astonishingly intense, as if any answer that failed to satisfy him would see this entire Bochord shattered to pieces.
“…She has already left! How am I supposed to know where she is?!”
The Bochord’s overseer, who had existed for tens of thousands of years, had never imagined being threatened by a mere youth of barely a thousand years. He spoke through anger, his words sharp and ill-tempered.
She has already left.
That phrase repeatedly echoed in his ears.
Xie Tanzhao was still alive.
The blood that had boiled within him finally stilled.
Dao Lord Tianshu spoke no more, turning to leave.
But the overseer’s voice drifted after him, calm and lingering, “Love ebbs like the tide; let it retreat in peace. Her threads of attachment have already been severed; you and she are destined to walk separate paths. Why persist in vain?”
The tall, poised figure came to an abrupt halt.
Perhaps he truly had reached the limits of his strength, for the Bochord’s overseer saw the sword master, originally radiating lethal intent, falter slightly.
“Threads of attachment…severed?” The words were slowly savored on his tongue, each syllable as if laced with poison, bitter enough to make the tip of his tongue tingle.
The overseer, just as he had done with Zhao Zhao on that day, explained to him word by word, “Indeed so. Unless you perish and your soul is scattered, the thread that binds the two of you shall never be rewoven.”
In that instant, the blood in Dao Lord Tianshu’s veins froze, and the thick, dark consciousness in his mind surged violently—
Instantly engulfing all of his senses.
.
.
.
Author’s Note:
When the Bochord’s manuals first saw Dao Lord Tianshu: Hooray! A genius sword cultivator!
After hearing his words: F*ck, it’s a love-struck fool…
