# 1069
Chapter 1070: Dawn Has Broken
The demonic energy and Buddhist light—two fundamentally opposed forces—clashed and collided within him, as incompatible as fire and water. Sun Wukong knelt on the ground, his face contorted from the torment of these two opposing powers.
Behind him, Lin Qiye witnessed this scene, his eyes widening with shock. Having experienced the Great Sage's possession before, he understood intimately what such clashing forces meant for a soul. Sun Wukong had now achieved enlightenment, his divine spirit immensely powerful, so he wouldn't be torn apart by these opposing forces, but that agony remained inescapable. The sensation of being ripped apart at the soul's very core could drive anyone to madness.
The demonic energy and Buddhist light intertwined within Sun Wukong's body. Gritting his teeth, he rose slowly from the ground. Heavenly Court lay in ruins, the Gods of Great Xia had all perished, and across this vast expanse, he stood alone as the sole remaining deity. Hatred and fury burned in his chest—though heaven and earth stretched endlessly before him, in his eyes, only one fate awaited him.
His furious gaze locked onto the churning mist before him, filled with unprecedented killing intent and madness.
"Mist... I want to see exactly what you are!"
He gripped the Ruyi Jingu Bang in his hand, and a terrifying aura that was half-demon and half-buddha ravaged across heaven and earth. He strode forward forcefully, boundless clouds churning beneath his feet, carrying his body as he hurled himself unhesitatingly toward the mist.
He passed through the intangible Wall of Divine Providence and vanished entirely into the mist.
As he disappeared, the nine National Guardian Steles gradually faded from mortal sight, and the intangible Wall of Divine Providence eternally shielded all of Great Xia, keeping the deadly mist at bay.
Across the desolate landscape, only the mournful sound of howling wind remained.
A figure in deep crimson stood beside the corpses of Zhu Bajie and Sandyujing, positioned at the magnificent border of the mist—a statue-like presence, motionless in the snow.
One minute passed. Two. An unknown duration elapsed before he could no longer contain the anguish within him, letting out an anguished roar as his fist crashed into the snowy ground. Snow erupted into the air, and his already contorted face twisted further with helplessness.
Lin Qiye knelt on the snowfield, his mind consumed by the images of the Gods of Great Xia flinging themselves into the steles like moths drawn to flame—the Queen Mother of the West, Yu Ding Zhenren, Emperor Fengdu, Yang Jian... their voices echoed in his mind, declarations of sacrifice that reverberated through the sky.
Eventually, he seemed to see Sun Wukong's eyes once more—that flicker of hope gradually turning to despair and collapse.
"Damn it!!!" He buried his hands in the thick snow, opening his mouth to unleash a roar.
Damn it!! Even if he couldn't change anything! Why did he have to witness all of this!
The temporal shadows receded like a receding tide, and the dark mist at the border gradually transformed from black to gray. The scattered "mysterious" bodies on the ground—including those of Zhu Bajie and Sandyujing and the blood pooling beneath them—began to dissolve into nothing.
The Kunlun Mirror's power to reshape time had reached its limit.
The dark sky overhead vanished, replaced by an impenetrable night. Time itself seemed lost, with no light piercing the absolute darkness that blanketed every corner of the Pamir Plateau—a desolate abyss stretching endlessly.
Lin Qiye remained kneeling in the snow, oblivious to his surroundings.
Suddenly, countless crisp sword cries erupted from the void around him, mingling with the howling wind like mournful wails.
Lin Qiye froze. He looked around in bewilderment, his palm pressed against his chest.
He didn't know where these sword cries came from, but he could clearly sense that within this endless chorus was the same emotion he felt... grief, defiance, fury!
Could swords possess feeling?
At this moment, Lin Qiye seemed to realize something. He lowered his head, murmuring to himself:
"All things under heaven possess spiritual essence. The sword, as the leader of all weapons, holds even greater spiritual nature. Only by forging the soul through intention, allowing it to witness emotion, can emotion and the sword's cry unite, tempering and awakening its divine spirit."
Those were the words the Queen Mother of the West had told him, and the reason she had revealed those scenes to him.
She was letting swords witness emotion, using the determination of countless Great Xia deities who had sacrificed themselves to become steles, to touch the spiritual swords, forging and awakening them!
Tens of thousands of sword cries echoed in Lin Qiye's ears. He could clearly sense each blade resonating with his emotions. They were not merely swords—they were witnesses and participants in this grand epic.
Lin Qiye could even sense within their cries the exact same resolve to die that the Gods of Great Xia had shown!
"Protect the people of Great Xia, ensure eternal peace and safety!"
Swords might be silent, but their affection ran as deep as the ocean.
Just as Lin Qiye resonated with these ancient swords, a figure descended from the snowy void, stepping mid-air to stand before him.
Her golden-threaded purple-robed divine garments fluttered in the wind. The Queen Mother of the West, wearing a golden crown, extended her hand to help Lin Qiye to his feet, gently brushing the snow from his cloak. Her beautiful eyes, swirling with radiance, held a gentle warmth.
"Queen Mother..." Lin Qiye's voice emerged hoarse.
"You shouldn't blame yourself. This is Great Xia's history from a hundred years ago—nothing can be changed. You merely witnessed it all again." The Queen Mother of the West's voice was tender and soft.
A bitter smile crossed Lin Qiye's face. Though he knew everything he had experienced was merely a phantom, for him in that moment, it had been entirely real—his sorrow, his guilt, his defiance, his rage—all genuine.
Only by living through it could he truly grasp the weight carried by those four words: "collapse one's cultivation, transform into a stele to protect the nation."
His fists clenched involuntarily.
At that moment, the Queen Mother of the West seemed to sense something, turning to gaze eastward.
"Lin Qiye, look." Her voice was quiet.
Lin Qiye raised his eyes. A faint light glimmered from the peaks of the eastern snow-capped mountains, a pale white creeping across the black night sky, scattering the boundless darkness.
"What's happening, Your Majesty?" he asked, puzzled.
"Dawn has broken." The Queen Mother of the West fixed her gaze on the rising sun, her voice serene: "Our era... should return."
Lin Qiye was stunned. Then, as if remembering something, he looked toward where the sun was rising.
Today marked the end of the devil's training.
And the final... tenth day.