Chapter Thirty-Three: Traces Left by Heaven and Earth

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Li Ruoyu was constantly bathed in blood amidst the heavenly tribulation, yet remained unwavering as he pressed deeper into its heart. At last, he once more beheld those nine figures. Each stood alone upon a path stretching into endlessness, receding ever further. The nine silhouettes faced away from all living beings. Occasionally, one would glance back, revealing a face marked by desolation, solitude, and emotions that could not be named. Li Ruoyu was at a loss to describe those expressions, tinged with compassion, sorrow, and weighty pain. He had witnessed and understood this during his previous trial, and now again encountered these nine shadows.

It seemed that each figure had grown even more bleak and lonely. Their features remained indistinct, shrouded and blurred, impossible to discern clearly. Li Ruoyu longed to see the faces of these nine, but they were as unreachable as the moon reflected in water or flowers seen in a mirror. Yet he sensed the nine held tremendous significance. Even from the traces they left upon heaven and earth, it was clear they once stood at some supreme pinnacle. But something had happened, transforming them thus—burdened, bereft, as if they had endured utter despair.

Since his current realm could not touch these secrets, Li Ruoyu settled his heart to weather the tribulation. After the destruction of the artifact, a blade-like grass appeared within the storm clouds, striking at Li Ruoyu and wounding him instantly.

"Heavenly Sword Grass."

In heaven and earth, all things may become monsters—flower, grass, tree; every creature can be transformed. There was once a divine grass born in a forbidden zone, which cultivated for ten thousand years before attaining the peak of swordsmanship. Thereafter, such grass was known as Heavenly Sword Grass.

This particular blade was vibrant green, brimming with life, attacking Li Ruoyu relentlessly like a sword. Li Ruoyu wielded the Fist Across Ages, striking again and again at the grass. The Heavenly Sword Grass inflicted repeated injuries, but Li Ruoyu ultimately shattered it with the Tombstone of Dao Image. Throughout the heavenly tribulation, thunder transformed into traces of the world’s supreme beings, attacking Li Ruoyu. Some traces were like qilin, true dragons, phoenixes—creatures of legend. Others resembled Kunpeng, Celestial Silkworm, Divine Monkey, all assaulting him and causing wounds. The unleashed energies left the entire frozen world in utter chaos.

Li Ruoyu fought these marks of heaven and earth to the point of madness, his body layered with blood scabs, but his gaze remained steadfast, his faith unshaken. He charged into the traces, tempering his body with tribulation lightning, deepening his foundation with each blow.

At last, Li Ruoyu endured the final heavenly tribulation and fell onto the ice. He seemed to have waded through a sea of blood, the thick scabs on his body starkly out of place in the icy world. The Dao Image enveloped him, slowly gathering form. It grew ever more tangible; though the tombstone’s inscriptions were still hidden, they were becoming clearer, and the grass atop the black tomb was nearly lifelike.

Half a month later, Li Ruoyu had recovered, bearing a sword case on his back, he strode with resolute steps northeast toward the Abyss of Demons. As he advanced, a momentum gathered around him, lingering but never dispersing. Any strange or fierce beast approaching him would bristle and flee in terror.

Whether rain descended from the heavens or the sun blazed fiercely, Li Ruoyu continued onward, step by step toward the northeast of the Abyss. His fighting spirit soared, his stride firm, building momentum and nurturing his intent.

After half a month, Li Ruoyu reached a great chasm, the very place he, Wang Bo, and Jing Hong had once visited—the White Bone Abyss. He retraced his old path to a fissure three zhang long and five feet wide, then vanished into its depths.

"You have come. Eight years nurturing the sword, eight years waiting for you, and at last you are here." Sitting cross-legged beneath the fissure was a man robed in crimson, a blood-colored sword laid across his knees. His eyes were as lifeless pools, fixed on Li Ruoyu.

"You knew I would come?" Li Ruoyu regarded the man in red.

"You won't rest easy unless I'm dead, so of course you'd come. Just as you knew I'd be here," said Killing the Firmament.

This man in red was none other than Killing the Firmament, the grand elder of the Corpse Sect. "If you live, how can I have peace of mind? Even the slightest threat to my family is intolerable. I must send you back, though I know you are not that kind of person. But, if it were you, would you wager?" Li Ruoyu spoke as calmly as if they were old friends.

"Were it not for the whims of fate, we might have been kindred spirits. It's a pity..." Killing the Firmament seemed to have much to say, but all his words turned to sighs.

"You act for old friends, I act for family. Today, we settle who is superior and sever the path between us." As he spoke, Li Ruoyu brandished his bone sword, striking at Killing the Firmament. After half a month of accumulating momentum, Li Ruoyu had gathered an unshakable conviction to win.

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Simple and unremarkable, yet filled with the understanding Li Ruoyu had gained over twenty-three years, he slashed at Killing the Firmament.

"Severing the Dao."

A single sword strike—nothing more. He swung forward, and if anything blocked the path ahead, he would cut it down with the sword in his hand. Though Killing the Firmament's strike seemed simple, the Dao intent within was pure and resolute. "It was the promise he made to his late wife."

Killing the Firmament launched an attack with no hope of survival, trading life for life. Li Ruoyu responded fiercely, disregarding defense and hacking at him.

When the exchange ended, a wound an inch deep appeared on Li Ruoyu’s chest, imbued with Killing the Firmament’s Dao intent, preventing it from healing. Killing the Firmament, too, was wounded, his blood-stained garments lending him a sinister air.

"I have a technique, created long ago but never used. Today, for the first time, I ask for your guidance." Li Ruoyu pointed his sword at Killing the Firmament, as if a junior seeking advice from his elder.

"Eternity."

Li Ruoyu gripped the bone sword, its inherent power awakened, augmented by his own fledgling mastery of the Dao of Time, and struck at Killing the Firmament.

"Severing the Firmament."

Killing the Firmament responded with another sword strike, an image embedded within, suffused with his own Dao Diagram, reflecting his personal will.

Two forces intertwined, the power from Killing the Firmament’s Dao Diagram and Li Ruoyu’s power of time entangled, each striving to annihilate the other. Killing the Firmament’s Dao Diagram began to unfold fully. He had ascended again to the Foundation of Dao, at its early stage, allowing him to wield the Dao Diagram’s power.

Killing the Firmament summoned the Dao Diagram and attacked Li Ruoyu. Blood fell from the sky like a waterfall, pouring into the bloody battlefield. Li Ruoyu saw a vision of heaven weeping blood, all life buried in bones. The image became completely tangible, held in Killing the Firmament’s hands. Such was the terror of the Dao Diagram: it could be materialized to strike an enemy, or rendered intangible, infused into powerful techniques. Killing the Firmament’s Dao Diagram was shaped from his Dao Image, the "Heaven Weeps for All Living Beings," containing the vicissitudes of his two-thousand-year life. It allowed one to feel his sorrow, his inner pain.

Old friends faded away, like leaves falling in the wind. When all those you cared for had vanished, what reason remained to live? In the end, even an old enemy, found again, was now nearing death in the flow of time. Would you still have the heart for battle? The sword of the strong does not strike the weak, lest the Dao be lost. Perhaps, then, they would sit and share tea, play chess, and reminisce.

All of this, all these emotions, could be felt and touched within Killing the Firmament’s Dao Diagram. They all impacted Li Ruoyu’s will, but he resisted the invasion with his own Dao intent, swinging his sword to cut through.

Killing the Firmament felt himself trapped in a river of time with neither beginning nor end, unable to escape—like a lone boat drifting in the current, life beyond his control.

Within this river of time, there was a burning warmth, a sense of cherishing, and a hint of compassion—a fervor for those nearby, affection for those beside him, pity for all living things. Killing the Firmament’s will was resolute; he had nurtured his sword for eight years, only to fulfill today’s promise and defeat his enemy.

"Sever the Firmament."

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Killing the Firmament’s sword strike was pure and simple, imbued with his will. Dao intent gathered upon it, slashing toward Li Ruoyu.

Li Ruoyu could see that the Dao intent contained within was extraordinary—two thousand years of Killing the Firmament’s Dao intent, or rather, a fixation, an obsession, a powerful will. It was the fulfillment of a past promise, the obsession it carried.

"Before my parents pass from this world, I cannot die—I must defeat you." Similar words echoed in Killing the Firmament’s mind as he gazed at the man before him, whose eyes were as resolute as ancient ice, and a sense of kinship stirred within him.

"You must not die, and I too have reasons I cannot lose. If I fail, then Mo’er’s last lingering thought in the world will be gone." Killing the Firmament murmured.

Old friends were gone; the only proof they had existed was a promise made in youth. If even that promise faded into nothingness, what sorrow, what tragedy that would be.

Two swords clashed, powerful Dao intent erupted and swept outward. Two men, two swords, two pairs of eyes equally steadfast. The invincible momentum Li Ruoyu had nurtured for half a month surged toward Killing the Firmament, and the undefeated faith Killing the Firmament had cultivated for eight years struck at Li Ruoyu.

"Ah!"

Li Ruoyu cried out, his left ring finger suddenly exploding, its power added to the bone sword. With one strike, Li Ruoyu drew upon the power of Devouring the Wilderness and dealt Killing the Firmament a grievous blow, an eight-inch wound across his chest revealing the severity of his injury.

This act moved Killing the Firmament; such ruthless tactics toward both enemy and self commanded his respect—willing to injure himself to harm his foe, so decisive in action.

"To lose a finger forever—is it worth it?" Killing the Firmament asked, gazing at Li Ruoyu.

"Eight years nurturing the sword—was it worth it?" Li Ruoyu replied, meeting his gaze.

In this world, there are things that must be done, no matter the cost. Some paths must be walked, no matter how long or arduous. If one does not protect what is most precious, most cherished, most cared for, then what is the meaning of life? This is the Dao. This is Li Ruoyu’s Dao.

Li Ruoyu was decisive; while Killing the Firmament was severely wounded, he struck again.

"Eternity."

The same sword technique, but now the Dao intent was even purer, his resolve to slay Killing the Firmament stronger than ever.