Chapter 78: Death and Dissolution of the Dao?

Lin Cheng naturally understood the white-robed swordsman's meaning.

The matter of the heavenly tribulation would surely spread through every street and alley of the Zhao Kingdom in the coming days. While fame was attained, the troubles that followed would only grow. Not to mention other concerns, the three great sects themselves would never allow anyone in Zhao to threaten their power. Lin Cheng could not forever live under the protection of the Qingyang Sect.

Fortunately, for now, no one had recognized his identity.

With this thought, Lin Cheng made up his mind.

"O Heaven! If you gave me life, why do you seek my destruction?"

"I am not resigned! I refuse to accept this fate!"

"Come then! Annihilate me utterly—if I must die, let it be a death to shake the heavens and the earth!"

His voice, carefully disguised, drifted out and fell clearly on every ear in the vicinity. The heroism and sorrow in his words touched the hearts of all who heard; some even found themselves overwhelmed by grief.

A cry rang out, laced with exhaustion and desolation, echoing from the thunderclouds.

Lightning forked across the sky.

The crowd saw a figure, charred black from head to toe, plummet from the heavens and crash heavily into the forest, the impact setting the ground trembling.

——

Was that... the end?

He was dead? What a pity!

So the tale of a prodigy ended here. Mortal strength, it seemed, could never overcome the wrath of the heavens.

Many shook their heads and sighed with regret before turning away.

A streak of rainbow light flashed through the sky, racing toward the place where Lin Cheng had fallen. Three more brilliant arcs followed almost at once.

The four figures landed, each taking a different vantage, and all frowned as they gazed into the scorched pit below.

"Ha ha! Friend Zhenyang, you were the first to arrive—did you find anything?" asked the middle-aged man in a golden dragon robe standing to the west.

Daoist Zhenyang replied expressionlessly, "I saw only what you all see now."

The burly man with a bristling beard, floating in the air to the east, also turned to Zhenyang. "You came with such urgency, Zhenyang. Could this man be a promising disciple of your Ziyang Sect?"

Zhenyang opened his mouth, then thought better of it, stroking his beard with an air of mystery and offering no answer.

The other two exchanged puzzled glances, wondering if this really was a disciple of the Ziyang Sect.

At that moment, the man in the dragon robe turned to the Daoist in blue. "Brother Qingyang, when did you arrive in Chang’an? I’ve long awaited your visit with great anticipation. No matter what, tonight you must come to the palace and drink with me!"

Master Qingyang, who had been quietly examining the scene below, looked up and cupped his hands to the three. "Once this matter is settled, I shall certainly call upon you at your palace, Zhao..."

"Do none of you sense something amiss here?" he continued.

At his words, the other three fell silent and peered down once more.

Far off, many onlookers halted, quietly watching the four great powers floating in the air.

"What do you mean, Brother Qingyang? Are you suggesting this man was not reduced to ashes by the lightning, his soul annihilated?"

"Such a tribulation—he was but a mere Spirit Realm cultivator! Even one at the Earth Core Realm would have struggled to survive..."

"True enough, but I have a feeling things are not so straightforward..."

"You think he survived the tribulation and escaped before we arrived?"

The four exchanged astonished looks.

With a flicker, Zhenyang appeared beside the deep pit, and the other three soon followed.

Qingyang closed his eyes, letting his spiritual sense sweep out over a thousand miles, probing every subtle disturbance.

After a moment, he opened his eyes and shook his head.

Seeing that even Qingyang found nothing, the others withdrew their own senses as well.

"Brother Qingyang, your strength grows ever more unfathomable—perhaps you’re only a step away from the Imperial Realm," the bearded man remarked.

The others sighed in agreement.

Sensing Qingyang’s vastly superior spiritual power, they realized it would not be long before the Qingyang Sect welcomed another Imperial Realm master.

"The Imperial Realm is not so easily attained. My recent breakthrough was mere luck..." Zhenyang replied, shaking his head.

"I hear Master Cangfeng recently accepted a new direct disciple—Lin Cheng, is it? Might I have the honor of meeting him?" Zhenyang suddenly asked.

At this, Qingyang frowned, wondering why Zhenyang was interested in a novice disciple.

"How does Fellow Daoist Zhenyang know my senior brother’s disciple’s name?" he asked, suspicion rising.

Zhenyang dodged the question. "Word of Master Cangfeng’s unparalleled sword skills travels far and wide—naturally his disciples attract attention. Knowing a name is no surprise, is it?"

Qingyang pondered for a moment. "Lin Cheng did not accompany us. He left the mountain long ago to travel. If you wish to meet him, you could ask my senior brother when he arrives..."

"Oh? Master Cangfeng is coming as well?" asked the Zhao Kingdom’s ruler in surprise.

"How lively it will be! I’ve heard Master Cangfeng’s sword skills have reached the highest level—this time, we must truly seek his guidance," said the bearded man with excitement.

He was none other than Ximen Wudi, the master of Xisha Sect.

Seeing there were no clues to be found, the group was ready to leave.

"Since fate has brought us together, why don’t you three accompany me to the palace so I can play host?" suggested the ruler of Zhao.

Qingyang nodded in agreement.

——

But Zhenyang spoke up, "No need to trouble yourself, Your Majesty. My senior brother awaits my return. Farewell."

With that, he vanished in a streak of rainbow light.

The others took one last look at the forest and, in a flash, disappeared into the distant sky.

Not long after their departure, other figures arrived to search the area. Finding nothing, they too gradually dispersed.

Night fell, stars blooming across the heavens.

In a nondescript pit, Lin Cheng lifted the concealment spell and, becoming a stream of light, vanished into the night.

——

At dawn, the eastern sky glowed red.

Shops opened along the streets, vendors set up their stalls, calling out cheerfully to passing customers.

In a tavern, Lin Cheng sat at his ease, sipping wine and nibbling on side dishes, listening to the lively discussions around him.

Almost every conversation revolved around yesterday’s tribulation.

Now and then, Lin Cheng, the very subject of these tales, would join in, affecting an air of utmost admiration for the mysterious cultivator who endured the heavenly trial.

Observing his antics, the white-robed swordsman in the Sword Marked Starry Sky could hardly contain his exasperation, wishing he could give Lin Cheng a sharp knock on the head, and finally waved his hand to block out the scene.

"Did you hear? Ziyang Sect’s chief disciple Dong Wuwang has come down from the mountain..." a portly, well-dressed man suddenly announced.

His words drew many curious glances.

"Dong Wuwang?"

"You mean the one who, years ago, fought a hundred battles against Core Formation masters without a single defeat—the renowned first disciple of Ziyang Sect?" someone gasped.

The portly man, clearly pleased with the attention, nodded. "The very same."

"So he’s come down as well. The opening of the Tianhu Secret Realm must be no ordinary event this time..."

"The rivalry between the three sects has lasted for years. To gain entry to the Wudao Cliff and comprehend the Dao, none can afford to take their opponents lightly."

"Anyone who emerges from the Tianhu Secret Realm trial sees their strength soar..."

Lin Cheng listened quietly, eyes shining.

"I think I glimpsed Liu Feng of the Qingyang Sect the other day—though I didn’t recognize him at first. Looking back, I’m almost certain it was him..."

"Liu Feng? Wasn’t he the one who fought Dong Wuwang to a draw after a hundred bouts?"

"This is going to be a spectacle..."

——