The Third Stele

Xiao Chen’s consciousness blurred. He was slipping into a deathly stupor, three War Swords piercing through his body. Even a god with boundless divine abilities would find it hard to remain unharmed under such an attack—though the swords did not erupt with world-shattering energy, the sheer physical damage was more than Xiao Chen could bear.

Ordinary weapons would never have drawn the attention of Primordial, Tongtian, Laozi, and the others.

The sixteen divinely transformed acupoints within his body slowly seep out strands of life essence, casting a faint radiance over Xiao Chen’s crumbling flesh. Like cracked earth suddenly fed by a spring of life, it was the most effective replenishment. Specks of treasured light flickered; his skin grew lustrous and full of life. The flowing blood began to congeal, wounds healed slowly, and the three legendary War Swords seemed to fuse with him, as if they had grown into his body.

Xiao Chen, who had been hovering on death’s threshold, slowly started to regain consciousness. Before him, a colossal divine stele towered into the clouds. Behind the stele lay a hazy, indistinct divine garden—a misty realm of clouds and fog, impossible to see clearly, yet one could sense that it was extraordinarily serene, like an entirely new world.

At that moment, Laozi, the Buddha, Tongtian, Primordial, and the others had already reached the foot of the great stele, gazing intently into the divine garden. Inside, a white speck of light moved swiftly—it was a snow-white little beast. It seemed completely unaffected by the garden’s constraints, able to fly freely within.

A gentle breeze swept through, dispersing some of the mist and gradually revealing a part of the truth. The divine garden appeared to be an independent space, standing out from the surrounding world. The space around it twisted, as if the garden were embedded within it. It was difficult to determine what kind of space the divine garden really was.

Seeing Xiao Chen flying in, pinned by the three War Swords, the Solar Holy God, the True Lord, Kong Xuan, the White Tiger Saint Emperor, and others showed surprise but were powerless to act. In this space, even beings as mighty as half-ancestor gods had lost their former great divine abilities; none could fly. Helplessly, they watched as the three War Swords drove Xiao Chen straight toward the divine stele.

The stele, as vast as a mountain, erupted with a surge of black mist that instantly swallowed Xiao Chen and the three War Swords.

“Ya-ya ya-ya…”

As if sensing something, the snow-white beast Keke in the divine garden felt a familiar aura. It rushed out swiftly—surprisingly, it could fly, both in the garden and in the lost world, suffering no hindrance in this space. Now it had a physical body, temporarily refined for it by Lord Tongtian.

With a flash of light, Keke rushed to the vicinity of the divine stele, crying out anxiously. It kept charging at the stele but was helpless—the black clouds rolled with vast, boundless power, enough to make even the mighty such as Lord Tongtian, Laozi, and Primordial furrow their brows. One could imagine how terrifying that power was.

Yet the black clouds did not actively attack; they only passively prevented the little beast from approaching. The black mist surged, completely engulfing Xiao Chen.

“Go to the Lost Paradise now—you cannot save him,” Lord Tongtian transmitted to Keke.

“No! No! No!” The little beast shook its head with psychic fluctuations, its large eyes filled with anxious light.

Not far away, the White Tiger Saint Emperor’s eyes flickered, then he said coldly, “This little beast cannot be kept alive.” As he spoke, he glanced at Primordial beside him.

Primordial showed no expression, but Tongtian gave a cold snort. “If anyone dares kill it before things progress, don’t blame me for turning hostile.”

“The ninefold seal has been broken; this beast must die,” Primordial said. Though his words were calm and devoid of killing intent, once a figure of his stature spoke, it signified the gravity of the matter.

Ordinarily, Primordial could annihilate countless cultivators with a wave of his hand and would never single out a minor creature. Yet now he argued that the snow-white beast should die—an act inconsistent with his exalted status.

“Take this sword and cleave the stele,” Primordial transmitted to Keke, raising the ancient War Sword he had obtained.

“Ya-ya…”

The little beast looked at him suspiciously, then turned into a streak of white light and swooped down—but Primordial’s sword slanted upward, stabbing straight at Keke. At the same time, the space around it seemed frozen, sealing the little beast’s escape.

Beside them, the White Tiger Saint Emperor and the Great Demon Lord revealed stunned expressions. Their divine abilities had completely vanished, leaving only their powerful physical bodies. They had not expected Primordial to still retain some of his divine powers. Half-ancestor gods truly were fearsome.

“Ya-ya…” The snow-white beast cried out in anger, waving its little paws, unleashing seven-colored divine light with all its might, sweeping it toward the stabbing War Sword.

Shur!

The War Sword seemed to cut through anything—though it did not burst with energy fluctuations, its pure physical attack split the seven-colored light and stabbed straight at Keke without hindrance. However, the split light divided into two streams, sweeping toward Primordial.

The colorful light slammed heavily into Primordial’s wide sleeve, producing a deafening explosion, then completely dissipated in the sky. The snow-white beast in the air rose sharply, barely dodging the War Sword, but a faint, almost invisible sword edge grazed it, leaving a trace of blood at the corner of its mouth.

Flying high into the sky, it could not escape any longer, for Primordial had sealed this patch of space like a prison in the sky. Although Keke too was skilled in binding arts, it could not break free at this moment.

One could imagine how powerful Primordial was. In this mysterious world, aside from Keke, almost everyone had lost their divine abilities, relying only on their physical bodies. Yet he could still manifest part of his power—his depths were unfathomable. If his divine powers were not constrained, a single strike would have reduced the snow-white beast to ashes multiple times over.

That was the strength of a half-ancestor god. Even as a featherless phoenix, he was far beyond the reach of others.

“Primordial, you villain! You are the great evildoer…” Already anxious, the snow-white beast was now even angrier. It transmitted its voice psychically: “Why did you trick me and try to kill me?”

“You should not have appeared in this world. You must die!” Primordial’s words were icy cold. He raised the War Sword again, pointing it at the snow-white beast in the sky.

“It is the will of heaven. You must die—you cannot live!” The White Tiger Saint Emperor slowly walked into Primordial’s sealed space, his expression grim as he faced the trapped Keke.

Shur!

Another faint light shot from the War Sword, striking Keke. Though Primordial could not project his full power, he was still a half-ancestor god. Even a fraction of his strength was more than the snow-white beast could withstand. Keke tried to sweep away the seven-colored glow, but it was shattered. It coughed blood and tumbled backward.

Frightened and furious, the snow-white beast understood that this was merely a pretext. These people wanted it dead. Anxious about Xiao Chen being swallowed by the black mist of the divine stele, shocked and angered by its predicament, it strained with all its might to escape, but could not break through Primordial’s sealed space.

Keke swept its gaze past Laozi, the Buddha, the True Lord, and the Solar Holy God, and saw that they were all utterly indifferent, as if silently condoning all this.

Primordial’s third faint sword-edge vibration struck, and Keke was hit again. Blood trickled from the corner of its mouth. It looked dazed, truly unable to understand why these people wanted to kill it. It had never imagined that human hearts could be so cold.

Sensing that escape was impossible, it turned to Lord Tongtian and asked, its voice soft and tender, childlike and naive:

“Tongtian, do you want to kill me too? Why is this?”

The three War Swords drove Xiao Chen straight into the divine stele.

“Bang!”

He struck the stele with full force, his bones nearly shattered. The excruciating pain drew a scream from Xiao Chen.

He did not understand why this was happening, why the three War Swords had pierced him and driven him headlong into the divine stele.

“This… is quite poor.”

At that moment, an ancient voice suddenly rang out, indistinct and aged, carrying an indescribable sense of vicissitude.

“Your aptitude is nothing special—merely a talent seen once every twenty years. Not even close to the paragons seen once every millennium or ten millennia. How can such mediocrity receive the inheritance?”

The voice sounded as if it had traversed the ages, ethereal and ancient.

“Who are you?” Xiao Chen asked, his mind wavering. Three War Swords were stuck in his body. Without divine powers, the heart-tearing pain was unspeakable.

“I am myself—a self on the verge of fading away.”

“Inheritance of what?”

“Nothing to do with you. Your aptitude is far too lacking. I will not pass any power to you. Even if the three War Swords have chosen you, it will not matter.”

“Chosen me?” Xiao Chen was astonished. He had clearly been pierced by the three War Swords, nearly destroying his body, but now the ancient voice seemed to imply something deeper than it appeared.

“It has nothing to do with me. The War Swords chose you; that is all. My power will not be given to you.” The ancient voice was cold and indifferent, clearly uninterested in Xiao Chen.

Xiao Chen found it absurd—the voice seemed to despise him.

The three War Swords trembled once more, carrying Xiao Chen as they flew up again, piercing through the endless black mist and circling the divine stele.

“Hmph. Learn what you can. This is your fortune. But do not expect to receive my power,” the ancient voice said again.

The Third Divine Stele!

The true, authentic Third Divine Stele!

This was what Xiao Chen had dreamed of. He could clearly see the carvings on the colossal stele. The excitement in his heart was beyond words.

The Heavenly Diagram of the Ancient Stele!

A complex, profound meridian diagram appeared in his sea of consciousness.

He was excited to the point of elation!

It was the continuation of the cultivation method. Xiao Chen memorized it in a single pass. Instantly, the Profound Art began to circulate on its own, the Heavenly Diagram seamlessly connecting with the third part.

In that moment, Xiao Chen’s body and mind underwent a subtle transformation. He felt as though he would be reborn from the flames, as if his body and spirit were about to undergo an ascension.

But suddenly, this mystical state was forcibly interrupted. The three War Swords disregarded his feelings and flew with him pinned toward the back of the stele. Ancient, weathered carvings appeared before his eyes—no discernible pattern, chaotic as tangled weeds.

“Could this be something like the Four Loose Techniques?” Xiao Chen exclaimed in surprise, then focused his attention to study them.

The ancient voice sounded again: “Hmph. The sorrow of martial arts. In this age, people only know divine abilities and do not understand the true meaning of martial arts. Now, there is not a single pure martial artist left.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am mourning for martial arts.”

“I am a martial artist,” Xiao Chen said defiantly.

“Hmph. If you are a martial artist, then go kill two half-ancestor gods with nothing but martial arts. Let me see.”

“You… them…”

“Them?” The ancient voice was dismissive. “What about them? Their divine powers are sealed. They can only display a fraction of their strength. If you were a pure martial artist, you would certainly be able to fight them one-on-one. So go kill two half-ancestor gods. If you succeed, I will pass on to you a part of the true meaning of martial arts.”

“Who are you?” Xiao Chen was greatly shocked.

“I am the imprint of the last pure martial artist. No divine abilities, no spells, no borrowing of heaven and earth’s power—only the martial body is cultivated.”

“The last martial artist imprint? Then… am I not a martial artist?”

“What are you? Are you any different from those people outside? You are all believers in divine abilities. You do not understand the true meaning of martial arts, nor do you know how the strongest combat power in this world is generated.”

“I am a martial artist. I want to cultivate martial arts,” Xiao Chen said. He had always considered himself a martial artist, and being so scorned by the voice left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Then go kill a half-ancestor god and show me.”

Just then, the voice fell silent, as if sensing something in the Lost Paradise. Xiao Chen quickly looked up, but the black mist obstructed his vision. He could sense that his connection to the little beast was being suppressed.

At the same time, Primordial’s sword pierced Keke, then lifted the convulsing snow-white little beast, impaled on the blade. Blood flowed continuously as he carried it around the divine stele and headed toward the true Lost Paradise.

Lord Tongtian, Laozi, the Buddha, the Solar Holy God, the True Lord, Kong Xuan, the White Tiger Saint Emperor, the Great Demon Lord, and others followed closely.

With a flash of light, as the half-ancestor gods entered the Lost Paradise, even the faint glimmers of power on their bodies vanished entirely. Their divine abilities were completely gone, not a shred remaining.

The White Tiger Saint Emperor reminded, “Be careful of that little beast. Its soul is indestructible. Do not let it escape.”

Primordial gave a cold snort, his voice emotionless: “The War Sword has pinned its soul. Escaping is more difficult than reaching the heavens. It is destined to be suppressed forever.”

The Lost Paradise was like a beautiful, radiant garden—a perfect fairy-tale world. Emerald jade trees swayed with dots of green light; flowers of brilliant colors and translucent petals seemed carved from divine jade. There were no animals, only plants. It was like a pure land. A clear, beautiful river flowed slowly through the jade trees like a ribbon of jade.

Arriving here, even the mighty such as Primordial, Laozi, and the Buddha dared not be careless. Their true divine powers had vanished; only their physical bodies remained.

“Ya-ya…” The snow-white beast, pinned to the War Sword, continued to bleed. Its consciousness was already blurry. It muttered dazedly, “Xiao Chen… are you… all right? The stele… didn’t hurt you… did it…”

Suddenly, killing intent surged in the Lost Paradise!

Xiao Chen strode into the garden with heavy steps. Three War Swords were still stuck in his body. His eyes blazed with murderous fury, fixed on Primordial, Laozi, the Buddha, and the others, then turned angrily to Lord Tongtian, and finally came to rest with infinite pity on the little beast, now slipping into unconsciousness and babbling deliriously.

“Clang!”

Xiao Chen pulled one War Sword from his own body. The sound rang out like metal. His body seemed to be a true scabbard—not a drop of blood issued forth. He pointed the sword at Primordial and said coldly, “I will never stand with you. Today, I will kill a half-ancestor god!”

Primordial regarded Xiao Chen with indifference, his deep eyes not even looking at him, but fixed intently on the three War Swords on his body.

“Kill!”

Xiao Chen had only this one word. He leaped up and slashed with the sword.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The metallic clangor shook heaven and earth. Primordial’s left sleeve waved casually, striking repeatedly against the War Sword in Xiao Chen’s hand.

“Clang!”

The sword was drawn—Xiao Chen pulled the second War Sword from his body.

The ancient voice echoed in his ear:

“If you can kill all the half-ancestor gods in the Lost Paradise, I will exhaust everything I have and impart to you the true meaning of martial arts.”

Lord Tongtian, Laozi, the Buddha, the True Lord, the Solar Holy God, and the others all heard this voice, and in that moment, they were shocked to the core.