Chapter 351: Sending a Sword Ten Thousand Miles
The morning snowfield was very quiet. Perhaps it was because of that shadow, or perhaps because the clouds still hadn't dispersed, but the morning light was faint, and the snow falling from that light was sparse, drifting down to the ground without making any sound. This killing game, destined to be recorded in history, this killing game that would inevitably alter the course of the continent's history, had already been going on for a long time. Victory and defeat had yet to be decided, yet the outcome seemed already fated. The mountain-like figures of the demon generals around them were silent and grim, that shadow still hung high in the sky, the black-robed figure sat silently on a snow hill over ten li away, and the figure surrounded in the middle remained upright, yet seemed somewhat lonely and forlorn.
Suddenly, a wind arose in the snowfield, swirling up scattered snowflakes. The deathly silence of the scene was first broken by the howling wind, then completely torn apart by a violent explosion. Countless powerful auras erupted from the snow hill where the black-robed figure sat. Massive amounts of snow sprayed into the sky and in all directions. The several life lamps floating in the air vanished in an instant. The front of the black-robed figure's robe was torn into several strands of thread. And even more terrifyingly, that seemingly indestructible square plate... had turned into a piece of scrap metal.
Countless gazes, not yet having time to look toward the snow hill where the black-robed figure sat, were instead cast toward a certain spot in the middle of the snowfield.
A person had suddenly appeared in the snowfield.
In the current continent, who could break through the layered defenses of that shadow and the tens of thousands of demon army soldiers, arriving here silently?
It was a youth. His right hand held an old umbrella. His left hand gripped a short sword. His eyes were tightly shut. Between his young and innocent brows was a determination that could only be seen between life and death. Of course, his face also showed endless exhaustion.
No one knew how much time had passed before the youth opened his eyes.
This youth was naturally Chen Changsheng. He looked around in confusion, seeing only whiteness everywhere. He had no idea what had happened, only vaguely understanding that he had already left the Garden of Zhou. But where was this place? Why was there also a shadow in the sky here? How was the will within this shadow even more powerful and terrifying than the shadow of the Roc over the Never-Setting Sun Grasslands? What were those dozen or so mountain-like figures around the snowfield? Why did they emit auras similar to those of the demon general couple Teng Xiaoming and Liu Wan'er? Could those mountain-like black figures all be demon generals? And who was that man on the snow hill over ten li away, completely wrapped in a black robe? Why did the aura emanating from him feel so sinister? Why was he wearing a black robe?
Chen Changsheng looked at the faint outline of a majestic city on the distant edge of the snowfield, recalling descriptions from the Daoist scriptures. His body was stiff as stone, his mouth open but unable to make a sound. He thought, it can't be... Could that city be the legendary Snow Old City? Is this the Demon Domain Snowfield? Are those mountain-like black shadows really demon generals? Is that sinister man in the black robe the Black Robe? And what about that shadow?
A moment ago, he was on top of the mausoleum in the Garden of Zhou, resisting the falling sky. The next moment, he was ten thousand miles away in the Demon Domain Snowfield, seeing the silhouette of the legendary Snow Old City, seeing the figures of those demon clan powerhouses that had only ever existed in his imagination and in books. If his mental strength had been slightly weaker, or his willpower slightly more fragile, he might have fainted from shock, or even been scared to death, because this scene was simply too unbelievable.
Chen Changsheng's willpower was very strong, so he didn't faint. But this wasn't a good thing. He had to stay conscious and endure the mental impact of what he was seeing. He even felt that his mental world was on the verge of collapse, and his body was so stiff he couldn't move at all.
An ant suddenly entering the world of giants, an ordinary person suddenly stumbling into a divine kingdom among the stars—that was how he felt now.
Countless snowflakes sprayed into the air fell rustling down, and then the thin snow from the clouds drifted slowly down, landing on the umbrella's surface. The snowfield remained deathly silent. Countless gazes, separated by several li, dozens of li, or even thousands of li, were fixed on Chen Changsheng, without a sound.
For those powerhouses, Chen Changsheng's appearance was also very strange.
A divine kingdom suddenly having an ordinary person appear—those lofty gods would surely also be very surprised at how this ordinary person had come.
The snowfield fell into a very peculiar stillness.
Chen Changsheng's body was incredibly stiff. The unimaginably immense mental impact, which nearly shattered his mental world, also drove his thoughts into overdrive.
In a very short time, he thought of many things. Why he had come from the Garden of Zhou to the Demon Domain Snowfield—he definitely couldn't figure that out in a short time, so he stopped thinking about it. Then, why was he seeing so many legendary demon clan powerhouses? Were these demon clan powerhouses here to ambush and kill him?
That was impossible. He was now the Dean of the National Academy. His rank seemed sufficient, but a youth at the upper level of Penetrating Obscurity was truly like an ant to these big shots. There was no need for such a grand formation. Even the most narcissistic Tang Thirty-Six wouldn't dare to think so.
The demon clan powerhouses were here to kill someone else. Who was that person?
That middle-aged man, surrounded by tens of thousands of demon soldiers for several days and nights, was already severely wounded and facing a certain death situation. The expression between his brows was still casual, showing he didn't care at all. However, when he saw the umbrella in Chen Changsheng's hand, his expression became serious.
As if to confirm his conjecture, he walked toward Chen Changsheng. On the snowfield, he was the closest to Chen Changsheng, needing only a dozen steps to reach his side.
"Oh, there's a sword."
That man reached out his left hand and took the umbrella.
Chen Changsheng only heard the footsteps and, before he could look, found that the yellow paper umbrella in his hand had been taken.
He looked at that man.
That man was wearing a long robe, but it wasn't too long, not like a scholar. A sword was tied at his waist, yet he didn't seem like a swordsman either. It gave a somewhat nondescript feeling.
A clear, sharp aura emanated from that man, as if a sword were fully baring its edge, making it impossible to look directly at him.
This was the first time Chen Changsheng had seen Su Li. He only saw Su Li's back, and his eyes were painfully stabbed.
It would be a very, very long time before he could look directly at this man. At that time, he didn't know that this man was the legendary Li Mountain Sect's Little Uncle, Su Li.
After a moment, he came to his senses and struggled to stand up straight. His right hand subconsciously tightened slightly, but the umbrella handle was no longer there. The empty feeling made him uncomfortable.
The yellow paper umbrella was in that middle-aged man's hand. For some reason, it looked so harmonious, as if the umbrella had always been his.
Seeing this scene, Chen Changsheng was bewildered again. He suddenly felt that everything that had happened in the Garden of Zhou was a dream. He had left the Heavenly Book Mausoleum, traveled from the capital to Wenshui to get this umbrella, then entered that grassland, and finally magically appeared on this snowfield. Tens of thousands of miles through wind and rain, only... to deliver this umbrella into this man's hands.
To return the yellow paper umbrella to this man.
...
...
Su Li held the middle section of the yellow paper umbrella's shaft in his left hand, looking at it quietly for a long time. Then a smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
Then, the smile turned into hearty laughter, into a long, resounding laugh.
He laughed so happily, his face brightening for once.
He looked at the demon general figures like black mountains in the distance, at the Black Robe sitting cross-legged in the scattered snow, at the shadow in the sky, and said, "You all said I lacked a sword. Yes, I indeed lacked a sword. But now... I have a sword. Isn't it your turn to be afraid?"
Chen Changsheng didn't understand. This was clearly an umbrella. Even if there was a sword intent inside, how could it be called a sword?
He didn't know that this yellow paper umbrella was a peerless famous sword called Sky Covering.
Hundreds of years ago, the sect master of that generation of the Li Mountain Sword Sect had held this sword and fought three hundred rounds with Zhou Dufu in the Garden of Zhou. He died, but the sword was not broken.
This sword was the strongest sword in the Sword Pool, and also the most unwilling, the one that most desired to regain its freedom.
This sword was originally the sword that should have been inherited by Su Li. This was his sword.
The body of this sword left the grassland, was picked up by Su Li, and sent to Wenshui, where it was used to create a versatile umbrella.
But the sword intent was not there, so it wasn't the sword he wanted.
The sword intent of this sword had been waiting in the grassland for the sword body's return and reunion.
Hundreds of years later, Chen Changsheng passed through Wenshui, was gifted the umbrella by the Tang clan, carried it into the Garden of Zhou, and in the grassland, made the sword body and sword intent meet, thus summoning ten thousand swords in the sky.
This story seemed to have reached a perfect conclusion at this point, but in fact, it was not so.
It was only when he came to this snowfield and handed this umbrella to Su Li that the ending truly became perfect.
Su Li held the yellow paper umbrella, recalling the scene hundreds of years ago when he first walked into the cave dwelling on the peak of Li Mountain and saw this sword hanging on the wall behind his master. He recalled the years that followed, when he forcibly suppressed his cultivation level at the Penetrating Obscurity realm and entered the Garden of Zhou several times in search of the sword. He was filled with emotion.
This was Li Mountain's sword. This was his master's sword. This was Su Li's sword.
Hundreds of years. It had truly been a long time.
How could this not fill him with joy? How could he not laugh with abandon?
He was laughing, and the yellow paper umbrella seemed to be laughing too.
But within the joyful laughter, there was still a trace of melancholy, a hint of regret.
Master, I have grasped this sword again.
But... Zhou Dufu is already dead. I have no chance to cut him down with this sword and avenge you.
The clear, unrestrained, yet melancholy and regretful laughter echoed across the silent snowfield, as if it wanted to travel a thousand miles.
The meaning within this laughter clearly told the entire world, and even Chen Changsheng understood.
Melancholy that Zhou Dufu was already dead, regret that he could not cut him down with his sword.
What an incredibly confident, even arrogant thought.
But no one mocked or scorned it. Even the Black Robe remained silent.
Because Su Li had found his sword. Who knew where he would go on the path of the sword?
The clear laughter gradually faded, and the sword light on Su Li's body also gradually disappeared, making him seem like an ordinary middle-aged man.
He raised his head and looked around the snowfield at the demon generals' huge, mountain-like figures. His expression was calm as he reached out and grasped the umbrella handle.
His left hand held the middle section of the yellow paper umbrella, as if holding a scabbard.
His right hand grasped the umbrella handle, as if about to draw a sword.
Chen Changsheng noticed that his fingers were very long and slender, very suitable for playing the zither, and of course, even more suitable for holding a sword.
The umbrella handle was the sword handle. The moment Su Li's hand fell upon the umbrella handle, a supremely sharp sword intent enveloped the entire snowfield.
On the snowfield dozens of li away, a mountain-like demon general figure swayed slightly, then heavily fell into the snow.
A streak of blood appeared in the snowy sky.
...
...
(Only one chapter today.)