Chapter 593: A Star in the Daylight
Popular Recommendations: , , , , , , ,
A few days ago on the lake island, the Old Heavenly Scholar had told Chen Changsheng that if he wanted to delay the eruption of his internal injuries, he should stop cultivating. He had not expected that Chen Changsheng would not only ignore his advice but instead push forward with even greater ferocity, preparing to break through to the next realm in such a short time. This inevitably filled him with worry and concern.
But it was already too late. The lake breeze gently stirred his Daoist robe. Chen Changsheng's eyes were closed; he was no longer in this world.
His consciousness had returned to its most primal place, arriving above that tranquil and profound sea of consciousness.
He stirred his thoughts slightly, and the sea of consciousness naturally rippled, raising unimaginably massive waves. Those waves were ten stories high, their momentum astonishing, ceaselessly stabbing toward the gloomy sky above.
Yet the sky was too distant. No matter how high the waves rose, they could not reach it. At their peak, they fell back helplessly, crashing onto the sea's surface and scattering into countless fine white foam.
Those waves originated from the seawater. If they could not separate from the sea, they could not leap into the sky.
On ordinary days, sending a wisp of divine sense into the sky was not difficult for him. But today, he needed to send far more of his divine sense to that place.
So he stirred his thoughts again, transforming his divine intent into countless sharp weapons—swords or blades—and then… severed his thoughts.
A great storm erupted above the sea of consciousness. Countless gales and torrents came from the horizon, turning into seemingly real techniques, slashing at the surging waves.
The National Academy's True Sword, the Li Mountain Gate Sword, the Fisherman's Song Three Chants, the Wenshui Three Swords, the Snow Mountain Sect's Condensing Frost Sword, the Star Picking Academy's Broken Army Sword, the Heavenly Dao Academy's Radiant Light Sword, the Nanxi Studio's Plum Blossom Three Variations…
Countless sword techniques took shape within the storm, dancing wildly across the sea's surface!
Those ten-story-high waves were slashed into unsteady swaying, gradually separating from the sea. Yet a deepest bond remained, unable to break completely.
A resolute shout rang out across the sea, and then a blade intent descended from the sky!
The Two Severing Blade Technique, First Form: Origin of Fate!
This was the most powerful blade art in the world. Before this blade, all things would inevitably be severed!
The great waves finally broke away from the sea and then floated upward!
…
…
The great waves, having left the sea, became a sheet of pure water, resembling the lake outside the Nether Realm.
This seawater, having lost its connection to the sea of consciousness, seemed to shed all its weight, drifting gently into the gloomy sky. It rose higher and farther, eventually following a channel that had not been truly traversed in a long time but was reinforced daily, arriving at the deepest part of the sky—that sea of stars.
This sheet of water was the essence of his divine sense, the cream of his experience—his most precious possession.
In that sea of stars, his divine sense did not stop. It continued moving, seemingly slow but actually swift, until after a long time, it reached the farthest edge of the star sea.
This place was immeasurably far from the earth, already on the other side of the star sea.
Beyond the star sea was nothingness. But what lay beyond nothingness?
Chen Changsheng gazed into the infinitely distant horizon, feeling as though countless stars were faintly visible there.
Back in the National Academy's library, on that night when he ignited his fate star, he had felt this way—as if he were looking at a myriad of household lights.
Unfortunately, that place was too far. With his current divine sense's strength and refinement, he could not reach it by any means, unable to explore the true boundaries of the world.
He withdrew his gaze and looked toward an inconspicuous corner at the edge of the star sea. There, an unremarkable star sat—very small, very red, looking like an apple.
This was his fate star.
His divine sense slowly approached it.
That sheet of water landed on the small red star. Instead of cooling its temperature or extinguishing its flames, it made the red fire on the star's surface even more violent and wild!
Like golden wind and jade dew meeting, it transformed into countless molten flows, spraying endless star radiance into the pitch-black space.
Almost transcending the bounds of time and space, that incalculable amount of star radiance returned from the distant edge of the star sea to the ground, pouring into his body!
With a boom! Chen Changsheng, sitting cross-legged, suddenly sank half a foot into the ground!
That was because the ground within three zhang around him had all collapsed!
The lake wind howled, swirling around him, billowing his Daoist robe and rushing into his sword sheath, producing a wailing hum—wild and excited.
Dust rose in great clouds, soaring into the sky like black smoke, dimming the bright sun.
Someone inadvertently looked up and saw, in the gloomy sky, a faint bright spot opposite the sun, resembling a star in the night sky.
The problem was, it was still daytime. How could a star be visible? How could there be such a bright star in the world?
That person shook his head, driving this absurd thought from his mind, and looked back at the scene.
At this moment, only the Old Heavenly Scholar was not watching Chen Changsheng sitting cross-legged; he was looking at the sky.
Only he could confirm that a star had indeed appeared in the gloomy sky earlier.
The star sea held unfathomable destinies. Even he could not determine the star's position, but he knew why it had appeared.
…
…
On this ordinary day at the end of summer, the midday sun was still blazing. Who would notice that fleeting star? Even if they did, who would dare believe their eyes?
In a mountain wilderness outside the capital, the Pope stood before the tomb of Grand Bishop Melisandre, gazing at his old friend's name on the headstone. Worry lurked in his eyes. "Back then, we feared he might grow too fast. Now it seems that fear was justified."
On the highest Dew Terrace in the capital, the Holy Empress stood with her hands behind her back, staring at a certain spot in the sky. The sunlight was harsh, but she did not blink. From the day many years ago when the Taizong Emperor had driven her out of the palace and exiled her to the Hundred Herb Garden, she had no longer feared looking directly at the sun. Today, she was not looking at the sun either. Mo Yu watched her back from behind, uneasily wondering what the Empress had seen that kept her silent for so long.
In the most majestic, imposing, and forbidding palace of the Snow Old City, the Demon Lord sat on his throne, listening to his most loyal subordinate report on the Demon Commander's recent unusual movements and the conflicts between the noble families and the strategist Black Robe's faction. He remained silent, still appearing as the middle-aged scholar from Cold Mountain, though his face was much paler, and that landscape was already broken. With a weary gesture, he dismissed the subordinate. Suddenly sensing something, he looked up toward the palace ceiling. After a moment of silence, he rose and walked to a green plant.
This was a persimmon tree he had brought back from the stream at Cold Mountain.
He looked at the heavy persimmons on the branches and frowned. "So soon, and they're already ripe?"