Chapter 780: Black Mountains, White Waters, One Bright Light
This pillar of light did not come from the stars, but from a far more distant and unknown world. When it landed on the ground, it was only ten feet in circumference, which showed just how condensed it was.
Only the purest and most powerful energy, or even the legendary gods, could create such a condensed beam of light.
It looked very much like the Holy Light of the State Church, but the Demon Lord knew it was not, and Chen Changsheng was even more certain. They both knew where this light came from.
Within the holy pillar of light, the Demon Lord's robes fluttered slightly. The broken landscapes on his face were completely washed away, and his appearance was rapidly aging.
The seal formed from the Heavenly Book Stele had somehow left the range of the light pillar, hovering silently in the night sky.
The seal gently trembled toward the Demon Lord within the light pillar, as if filled with deep emotion, countless memories, and as if bidding farewell to an old friend.
The next moment, the pillar of light vanished.
The Snow Ridge Lake Garden remained unchanged. No mountains collapsed, no snow avalanched, no heaven or earth transformed, no abyss descended. Everything was as before, as if nothing had happened.
The Demon Lord stood in place.
Nan Ke was rushing over.
The young formation master's expression was extremely complicated.
He looked at the Demon Lord, opened his mouth as if to speak, stopped three times, and finally remained silent.
The Demon Lord withdrew his gaze from the starry sky, looked at the young formation master, said nothing, and seemed lost in thought.
Nan Ke arrived at the scene, looked at the current tableau, and also fell silent.
No matter how long the silence lasted, it would eventually be broken by sound.
"You're about to be finished, aren't you?"
The young formation master looked at the Demon Lord and asked softly, his tone very cautious, even carrying a hint of fear.
The Demon Lord said, "If you couldn't even determine that, yet risked coming south, then you would be foolish."
The young formation master was very sure he was not foolish, so he laughed.
He laughed heartily.
The very next moment, the smug smile on his face vanished without a trace, replaced by tears of sorrow.
He burst into loud sobs.
He laughed and cried, joyful yet sad, pained yet delighted, humble yet arrogant.
He was like a moody child, looking at the Demon Lord with grievance and a touch of pride, sobbing, "Is this enough this time?"
The Demon Lord sighed and said, "It's enough."
The young formation master cried, "Then this time, you'll finally die, right?"
The Demon Lord said calmly, "Yes."
The young formation master's expression grew somewhat tense. He licked his dry lips and asked, "Did I perform well this time?"
The Demon Lord looked at him with an appreciative gaze and said, "This scheme is indeed quite good."
Hearing the praise, the young formation master's face immediately brightened with radiance, and even his steps became lighter.
He walked toward the Demon Lord, waving his arms and hopping, like a stone tumbling down a solitary peak.
Nan Ke's face turned pale. She wanted to come over, but the Demon Lord stopped her with a look.
The young formation master walked to the Demon Lord's side and carefully helped him sit down, as if he didn't want the Demon Lord to feel the slightest pain.
Then, he looked at the Demon Lord very seriously and asked, "Father, does it hurt?"
The Demon Lord looked at the young formation master, his eyes full of affection and satisfaction. He said, "It's bearable."
The young formation master raised his hand to wipe away the tears hanging on his eyelashes and said, "I didn't want it to come to this either."
As he spoke, his right hand struck the Demon Lord's chest like a black bolt of lightning.
It was a pitch-black short sword that could not reflect any light.
The short sword was thrust deep into the Demon Lord's chest, and golden blood gushed out from the hilt.
It seemed that this short sword was actually hollow.
The Demon Lord coughed in pain and said, "You... shouldn't have... used this sword."
"Because it's a relic of your friend?" The young formation master pulled the black short sword out of the Demon Lord's chest, glanced at the ground not far away, and said with a defiant tone, "That guy could use dragon whiskers to make a sword. I'm your son, why can't I use this?"
Chen Changsheng lay there.
The young formation master pulled the Demon Lord's hand out from under him, laboriously broke the Demon Lord's fingers one by one, and took something out from within.
The Demon Lord's expression remained calm, as if he couldn't feel the pain of his broken fingers at all.
It was something shaped like a ram's horn comb. What it was, no one knew, but it should have been his last means of survival.
If the young formation master hadn't struck with his sword in time to cut off his last lifeline, he might have actually found a chance to counterattack.
"Big Aunt reminded me that when dealing with you, I must be careful, careful, and even more careful."
The young formation master looked at the ram's horn comb, still shaken, and said, "But no matter how careful I was, I never imagined that the Demon Horn would be on you."
He carefully put the ram's horn comb into his bosom, looked at the Demon Lord, and smiled. "Didn't you say that over twenty years ago, when Little Aunt left Snow Old City, she stole this sacred artifact? Father, you're so cunning. We all thought it was still at Li Mountain."
The Demon Lord smiled and said, "Your Little Aunt was foolish enough to be tricked by Little Su. I had to teach her a lesson."
The young formation master thought of the bloody incident in the Longevity Sect back then and said with emotion, "The lesson was far more than that. Fortunately, now you probably can't keep teaching me anymore."
By now, the Demon Lord's life force was exhausted, his means were all spent, and he had no way to counterattack.
The young formation master confirmed every detail before he truly relaxed. He sat down beside the Demon Lord, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and panted for a moment before finally calming down. Suddenly, he looked at the stars and laughed, then shook his head, as if filled with endless emotion.
"Actually, I was scared too. But what could I do? I still had to do it. Fortunately, in the end, I won."
Whether it was the initial silence or the later madness, whether standing, sitting, or lying down, the Demon Lord, the young formation master, and Nan Ke were all very similar—outwardly they might differ, but their spiritual essence was exactly the same, especially when they were together.
They were like the black mountains, white waters, and blood moon of the far northern snowfields, exuding an aura of cruelty, bloodshed, and mystery, yet incredibly harmonious.
If no one disturbed them, this scene might have lasted longer. But in the end, there was one person in this painting.
And precisely because he was human, he could not stand within this painting.
Chen Changsheng stood up, and the painting immediately gained some bright colors.
That unwavering brightness came from his eyes, and from his voice.
"From the battlefield to the Song Mountain Military Governor's Mansion, and then to here, many people have died to protect you, to save you. If you win, then what about them?"
He looked at the young formation master and said, "No matter who you are, no matter why you came, this is wrong."
The young formation master looked at him, somewhat surprised that he could still stand. Then, a mocking and sneering smile curled at the corner of his lips.
"Your Holiness the Pope is indeed as eccentric as the rumors say. But what more can you do?"