Chapter Sixty-Six: Pursued by a Supreme Power

Li Ruoyu stood in the room, contemplating Jing Hong’s whereabouts.

“Where would she go? To find me.” In just an instant, Li Ruoyu had his answer. Much like himself, in the midst of the great upheaval that had struck the Everlasting Nine Sect, knowing he could not change the course of fate alone, the first instinct was to seek out those closest to him within the sect. Jing Hong would surely seek him out.

Without hesitation, Li Ruoyu summoned his light and sped toward his own courtyard within the Everlasting Nine Sect. He was not afraid of arriving too late, nor that Jing Hong might have already left. His only fear was that Jing Hong, in a moment of foolishness, would stubbornly wait in his courtyard. After all, Li Ruoyu had watched Jing Hong grow, from a boy shorter than her by a head to now standing taller, a grown man. Just as Jing Hong had entered Li Ruoyu’s life, so had Li Ruoyu come to understand her.

Though Jing Hong appeared careless and irreverent, often teasing Li Ruoyu like a rowdy woman, her true nature was as fiery as her crimson robes, soft on the outside but unyielding within. For what she believed, she would press forward without retreat, even unto death.

Just as Li Ruoyu expected, Jing Hong was indeed waiting atop the snow in his courtyard, accompanied by the stout Wang Bo. The two were in dire straits: blood trickled from Jing Hong’s lips, her red dress stained dark, and Wang Bo’s breath was far weaker than usual.

Nearby stood an elderly man, his hair white as snow, seemingly frail enough to be toppled by a mere gust of wind. His beard flowed straight and pale, like his long hair. Despite his aged appearance, his gaze was sharp and fierce, mirroring the three-foot sword in his hand. Though the blade was short, its gleaming edge betrayed its deadly sharpness.

The old man, dressed in colorful garb and hailing from the barbarian lands, held his blood-stained sword—blood that belonged to Wang Bo and Jing Hong. Looking closely, Wang Bo bore a sword mark across his chest, while Jing Hong’s right arm was pierced clean through.

“Fatty, you must go. If you die, Little Radish will grieve. He owes you a life, and I’ll repay it for him. I can hold this powerful elder for a short while, but both of us escaping is impossible. Go, quickly.” Jing Hong’s words reached Wang Bo’s ears just as the white-haired elder’s sword surged with divine power, its aura infused with the Dao, slashing toward Jing Hong and Wang Bo.

Jing Hong was strong, Wang Bo a genius yet not fully matured, but the old man’s cultivation surpassed theirs by more than an entire realm. That they lasted this long was already remarkable.

After the elder’s attack, Wang Bo and Jing Hong grew weaker still. As the old man readied to deliver the killing blow, his sword glowing, the wind whipped his hair into disarray. Suddenly, from the sky, a bone sword descended like thunder, clashing fiercely with the elder’s blade. Though fierce, the bone sword was clearly outmatched.

Sensing Jing Hong and Wang Bo’s frail breaths, Li Ruoyu knew that even if he wished to land a blow on the elder, it was impossible. This old man was simply too powerful, having surpassed the first major threshold of cultivation and undergone a qualitative transformation—on par with the peak masters of each mountain.

“You two go. I’ll hold him off. Trust me, nothing will happen.” Li Ruoyu locked eyes with Jing Hong and Wang Bo, his gaze confident and assured.

“Immortal Jing, let’s go. Staying will only distract Ruoyu.” Wang Bo hesitated, but seeing Li Ruoyu’s unwavering resolve, his own doubts melted into determination.

“Go,” Wang Bo repeated to Jing Hong, then immediately sped away from the Everlasting Nine Sect. Seeing Wang Bo flee, Jing Hong realized she could not linger either. She knew firsthand the elder’s strength and, unwilling to distract Li Ruoyu, followed Wang Bo’s trail of light.

From the clash of Li Ruoyu’s bone sword with the elder’s blade, to the exchanged glances between Li Ruoyu, Jing Hong, and Wang Bo, and finally Wang Bo’s look—though it seemed lengthy, it lasted only a single breath.

As he watched Wang Bo and Jing Hong escape safely, Li Ruoyu’s heart eased. Facing the seemingly frail but truly formidable elder, Li Ruoyu understood he could only delay him, and once Wang Bo and Jing Hong were far away, he must flee as well, or surely perish. All because the white-haired elder was terrifyingly powerful, enough to chill the heart.

“The Realm of True Dao is the stage after the Path-Building Realm, also known as the Realm of Great Power. Here, one comprehends the Dao, merging their Dao diagram with their weapon. Thus, the world’s life-bound weapons cannot be stripped away; when the wielder dies, the weapon is destroyed, and with it, their Dao.” The white-haired elder, wielding his three-foot blade, was clearly a sword cultivator. In the world of cultivation, sword cultivators possessed the fiercest attack power, and in the Realm of True Dao, their might grew even greater.

Li Ruoyu knew he had no chance of escape, nor of survival. Facing an elder whose cultivation surpassed his by more than a realm and who had crossed the first major threshold, his only option was to delay the elder, preventing him from pursuing Jing Hong and Wang Bo.

His earlier words to Wang Bo and Jing Hong had been a lie—though not to Wang Bo, only to Jing Hong. Li Ruoyu understood this from the momentary hesitation in Wang Bo’s eyes; between brothers, some things need not be spoken, a single glance suffices. Wang Bo seemed simple, but was actually shrewd and valued brotherhood deeply; this was evident when he shielded Li Ruoyu without hesitation.

Only by entrusting Jing Hong’s safety to Wang Bo could Li Ruoyu undertake this life-or-death delaying action. Though his decision meant risking his life, he felt no regret. He had cultivated for over ten years—a short time, but why cultivate the Dao? Was it not to hold the warmth of the palm close?

Sometimes, what makes a person human is not immortality, but the ability to do what must be done, even knowing it cannot be done. Every person has a bottom line, a forbidden ground that cannot be crossed or violated. As the saying goes, “When the common man is enraged, blood will spill within five paces.” If even a commoner dares to strike down a worldly king, why should Li Ruoyu hesitate to pit his bone sword against the elder’s blade?

Seizing the initiative, Li Ruoyu brandished his bone sword, “Beginning,” and struck at the white-haired elder.

The elder’s expression remained unchanged, indifferent, as if only his blade mattered and all beneath it were but ghosts.

When bone sword and blade met, Li Ruoyu was forced back ten steps, blood at his lips.

The elder’s blade surged with light again. This time, Li Ruoyu’s sword, imbued with the meaning of Dao, reached the Path-Building Realm’s power. Yet the backlash sent him back ten times farther: a hundred steps, no more, no less. The force was tenfold greater, and Li Ruoyu felt his internal organs shaken and battered. The shockwaves collapsed the little house where he once lived.

Though stunned by this power, what truly chilled Li Ruoyu was the elder’s meticulous control—he wielded his strength with perfect precision, not a fraction more or less. Only now did Li Ruoyu realize that the elder had merely toyed with Jing Hong and Wang Bo before, never truly exerting himself. This realization made Li Ruoyu all the more resolute.

Seeing Jing Hong and Wang Bo’s distant escape, the elder did not intervene, clearly confident he could kill Li Ruoyu and then swiftly catch the others. Knowing he could not win, Li Ruoyu took out a small gray-black bead—a Corpse Spot Pearl, obtained during a strange encounter at Huangshan’s dragonfly terrain. He knew well its terrifying power.

Even if the elder was a master of the Great Power Realm, should he be struck, he would not escape unscathed. Li Ruoyu readied his bone sword and attacked.

“Dao Transformation.”

Only those two words could describe this sword—a blow from the soul, carrying the force of will, as if striking from two different times and spaces, untouchable by ordinary means. Li Ruoyu understood that to harm the elder with the Corpse Spot Pearl, he could not rely on conventional attacks; he had only one chance. If he failed, he would have no second opportunity. Though the Dao Transformation sword would surely bring backlash, its success would increase his odds, so Li Ruoyu hesitated not at all.

As expected, when his Dao Transformation sword struck the elder, the backlash arrived instantly—Li Ruoyu’s head felt as if struck by a ten-thousand-pound hammer, pain piercing his soul. Yet he forced it down.

At the same time, the elder twisted aside, avoiding the bone sword, his blade piercing Li Ruoyu’s chest, but he staggered for a moment—Li Ruoyu seized that instant and hurled the Corpse Spot Pearl at the elder.

The moment it struck, the elder was engulfed in a withering aura, a rot that threatened to decay heaven and earth.

“Ah! Boy, today I will kill you!” The elder’s furious voice echoed.

At that moment, Li Ruoyu, too, felt a withering aura creep into the hand that touched the Corpse Spot Pearl, but the Buddhist beads on his wrist suppressed it.