# 1062
Chapter 1063: World-Ending Mist
Lin Qiye rode his Somersault Cloud, closely following the golden figure draped in a kasaya ahead.
A kasaya and a Somersault Cloud… The only one who fit both criteria, besides Sun Wukong after he attained the Victorious Fighting Buddha, was someone Lin Qiye couldn't think of.
He had never fully understood Sun Wukong's condition. Now that he had the chance to directly encounter the Sun Wukong from a century ago, it was the perfect opportunity to learn more. He wanted to see what had actually happened to Sun Wukong back then.
As if sensing Lin Qiye's presence, the figure riding the Somersault Cloud far ahead suddenly stopped mid-air.
He turned around, an ancient ape draped in a kasaya gazing at Lin Qiye with narrowed eyes. Within those brilliant golden eyes, a flicker of confusion crossed.
It was indeed Sun Wukong.
Seeing his true appearance, Lin Qiye became even more convinced of his guess.
Compared to the Sun Wukong within the asylum, the Sun Wukong before him appeared more divine. There was no trace of the subtle demonic aura, no sharp, cold gaze. The golden monkey fur emanated a soft glow, and those eyes resembled an autumn lake—calm and undisturbed.
Standing there, he looked like a true Victorious Fighting Buddha… not the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.
"Who are you? Why do you also possess the Somersault Cloud?" The Victorious Fighting Buddha studied Lin Qiye with a frown and asked.
Lin Qiye hesitated for a moment, about to respond, when the Victorious Fighting Buddha added, "Are you also a disciple of the Patriarch?"
Lin Qiye paused, then quickly realized and nodded:
"Yes."
Sun Wukong's master was Patriarch Subhuti of the Slanting Moon Three-Star Cave, from whom he learned virtually all his divine powers. The Somersault Cloud was included among those techniques.
In Sun Wukong's view, the only explanation for someone else knowing the Somersault Cloud was that they were also a disciple of Patriarch Subhuti.
Lin Qiye had been worried about how to explain his identity, but Sun Wukong had conveniently offered an answer, so he readily accepted it.
The Victorious Fighting Buddha gave a slight nod, asked nothing further, and turned his gaze back to the mist rolling in from the distance. His brow furrowed tightly as he rode the cloud and sped away once more.
Lin Qiye followed close behind him.
The closer they drew to the border, the more an indescribable sense of terror rose in Lin Qiye's heart. It was as if something was watching him from within the mist.
Lin Qiye stared at the ink-black mist swirling in the distance, lost in thought.
He had originally assumed that the mist that invaded Great Xia a century ago was no different from the mist he had encountered before. Now he realized he was wrong.
Before, he had wondered why the legendary mist that descended a hundred years ago could cause the gods to wither and all creation to perish, yet from his own experiences entering the mist several times, its lethality didn't seem quite that terrifying.
Not to mention, two years ago the Egyptian gods had flown through the mist with Great Xia's Yama City for quite some time without their divine power significantly depleting. And beings like Zhou Ping, the Human Apex, could walk through the mist briefly without any protective measures.
Now it seemed clear—the world-ending mist that descended a century ago was on an entirely different level from anything Lin Qiye had ever encountered.
The mist Lin Qiye had seen was grayish-white, but the world-ending mist being recreated through this temporal echo was jet black. Even without entering the mist himself, he could feel the deathly stillness emanating from it.
He had a premonition that if he entered this black mist, he wouldn't survive even a minute.
As he and the Victorious Fighting Buddha drew closer to the mist, more and more Gods of Great Xia gathered in the area.
Lei Gong and Dian Mu had been bombarding the mist with thunder for a long time but failed to stop it even slightly. Their expressions were grim as they flew to the divine projection of the Queen Mother of the West standing in the high sky and bowed苦涩ly:
"We report back to Your Highness, we are incompetent…"
"It's not your fault." The Queen Mother of the West spoke gently. "Go rest to the side."
Watching the two retreat in dejection, a hint of helplessness flickered in the Queen Mother of the West's eyes. Her gaze swept across the surroundings and, seeing Lin Qiye riding his cloud over, transmitted to him:
"Lin Qiye, come to my side."
Upon hearing her transmission, Lin Qiye was startled for a moment, then quickly rode his Somersault Cloud up to where the Queen Mother of the West hovered in the sky.
Lin Qiye raised his hand in greeting, glanced around to see that the other Great Xia deities were focused on finding weaknesses in the mist and not paying attention here, then lowered his voice and asked in confusion:
"Your Highness, what are you…"
"I know what you want to ask." The Queen Mother of the West slowly closed her eyes. "I used the Kunlun Mirror to recreate this scene, and there is purpose to it."
Lin Qiye considered for a moment, then ventured, "Is it related to the endless mountains of swords within the Kunlun Ruins?"
The Queen Mother of the West's brow arched slightly, as if she hadn't expected Lin Qiye to guess this. She simply nodded and replied, "Correct. I have been forging swords for a hundred years to build the Kunlun Sword Ruins. Now only this final step remains… and this step is crucial."
"Forging swords and recreating history—how are they connected?" Lin Qiye didn't understand.
"All things in the world possess spiritual essence," the Queen Mother of the West said calmly. "Swords are the chief of all weapons, with even greater spiritual essence. Mortal sword-forging only shapes the body, not tempers the soul. Only by forging the soul with intent, allowing it to observe and feel emotion, can the emotion resonate with the sword, and the forging be truly complete, attaining spiritual divinity."
After hearing the Queen Mother of the West's words, Lin Qiye felt he understood something, but not entirely.
The gist seemed to be that simply tempering a sword's physical form wasn't enough—one had to infuse it with "intent" and give the sword "emotion" before it could truly achieve spiritual divinity?
But… how does one infuse "intent" and give a sword "emotion"?
While Lin Qiye was lost in thought, the Gods of Great Xia before the mist were at their wit's end.
Several divine shadows burst out from the black mist. Their divine radiance was dim and faint, like birds with broken wings stumbling to the ground. They bent over, coughing violently. With each cough, large amounts of black mist poured from their bodies, their complexions haggard.
"Huanglong Zhenren, Jing Xin Zi, Ju Liu Sun!"
A portly monk in robes flew swiftly to their side. A burst of Buddhist light flowed from his palm into the three bodies as he tried to expel the black mist within them, but it was utterly useless.
"Don't waste your effort, Tian Peng… no, Cleaner of the Offering Pool." Huanglong Zhenren coughed twice and gave a pale smile. "It's a bit strange to call you that now that you've achieved enlightenment."
"Three Gold Immortals, what is the situation inside the mist?"
"…It's not good." Huanglong Zhenren shook his head. "We only flew a few li inside and were already attacked by seven or eight waves of strange demons. Their numbers far exceeded what we imagined. If we hadn't returned quickly, I'm afraid after our divine power was completely depleted, we would have been surrounded and killed by them."