Eternal Light

"Can there be two Martial Ancestors? In his day, he roamed the Nine Provinces and the Four Worlds, a supreme expert by any measure. It's said he once killed two or three Otherworld Ancestral Gods single-handedly—a figure of peerless defiance rarely seen through the ages."

Wu Ming finished speaking and raised his glass, downing the wine. He didn't believe Xiao Chen could be ignorant of the Martial Ancestor—there had to be hidden circumstances, though he dared not probe further.

"Has the Martial Ancestor's True Classic truly appeared in Yan Capital?" Xiao Chen looked at Wu Ming with suspicion. If such a scripture really existed, this deep, calculating man before him should not have been the one to tell him.

"Naturally. It's absolutely true." Wu Ming gave a firm answer.

This was a monumental event. The emergence of the Martial Ancestor's True Classic would inevitably set off a storm. This was the true scripture of a pinnacle Ancestral God—its value was incalculable!

"So Yan Capital is about to become a convergence of powers?"

"Of course." Wu Ming smiled. "Many cultivators have already entered this ancient capital. Those young men are friends my son invited, hoping to try their luck." He gestured toward Wu Xiaoshi and the others.

"Oh. You don't seem worried about information leaking. Aren't you afraid of attracting powerful competition?" Xiao Chen poured himself a cup and looked at Wu Ming.

Wu Ming seemed frustrated. He drained his wine in one gulp. "I have no fortune with the Martial Ancestor's True Classic."

"No fortune? Why?"

At the mention of the reason, Wu Ming's expression showed further bitterness. "To be honest, I feel like cursing. The Martial Ancestor's True Classic looked down on me—or rather, gave me a thorough mockery."

Xiao Chen was startled. "Wait. You're saying the Martial Ancestor's True Classic is alive?"

"Yes. A living mass of consciousness, hazy and indistinct—a wisp of cyan light." Wu Ming squeezed his wine glass hard. "It told me I was utterly inadequate, that my talent was too ordinary to qualify for the Martial Ancestor's True Classic."

Wu Ming was one of the strongest Heavenly Kings, counted among the three or five most outstanding talents in five hundred years—yet a scripture dared to belittle him like this. No wonder he was furious.

"Its assessment was that my talent is once-in-five-centuries grade, but still far from its requirements."

At this point, even a man as composed as Wu Ming, facing the temptation of the peerless treasure that was the Martial Ancestor's True Classic, felt the urge to curse. Once-in-five-centuries talent was rejected—how many throughout history could possibly meet that standard? He felt it was sheer sabotage.

Xiao Chen listened, then laughed heartily, utterly without sympathy.

Nearby, Wu Xiaoshi and the others ground their teeth. This was too arrogant! To gloat like that—it made them want to attack him.

Wu Ming remained imperturbable, completely calm and composed. He said meaningfully, "You certainly won't be chosen either. The Martial Ancestor's True Classic once said that if I were a pure martial artist, it might reluctantly pass on its true meaning to me. But you practice divine arts—you're no pure martial artist either, so naturally you have no connection."

Xiao Chen's laughter wasn't really gloating. It was because he now understood exactly what the Martial Ancestor's True Classic was. Back then, he had been treated even worse than Wu Ming—thoroughly scorned and humiliated. A body constitution that appears once in twenty years had been rated as "utter trash."

Yes, the so-called Martial Ancestor's True Classic could only be the Martial Imprint.

But Xiao Chen was no longer what he used to be. His potential was opening without limit. If he met the Martial Imprint again now, he would certainly not receive the same assessment as before.

The Nirvana realm was a watershed. Once one crossed that threshold, everything could change dramatically.

Those with supreme talent and those with ordinary aptitude, after crossing Nirvana, might become even more transcendent or even more mediocre.

But there were always exceptions.

Some who had performed averagely before might have their true potential surface only after Nirvana, as if reborn from flames, shining with boundless light thereafter, their latent power infinite. It would prove that their real potential had been buried all along.

Conversely, those who had shone brilliantly in the past might dim after Nirvana, fading into the crowd. It would prove that their former glory was merely a premature expenditure of their potential.

Examples of the weak soaring up were too numerous to count. Of the so-called Ten Great Experts from the Great Shang Empire and the Roman Empire back in the day, who knew how many were still standing now? Almost all had faded into obscurity.

And Chu Xingkuang, who had never been among those Ten Great Experts, mastered the Divine Technique of the Twins of Fate. After undergoing Nirvana, his cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds; aside from one or two like Absolute Blade, he had left those former 'Ten Greats' far behind.

Xiao Chen himself was an obvious case. His talent had once been rated as once-in-twenty-years grade, but after Nirvana, his true potential had slowly emerged.

Then there were those who grew from strength to strength—the Golden Lion King, Zhao Chongyang, and others. They had ridden a wave of continuous breakthroughs, always crowned with the halo of supreme talent.

"The Martial Ancestor's True Classic… it just came out on its own. I wonder who will obtain it this time." Xiao Chen muttered to himself. Clearly, Wu Zhanhun should be its nominal inheritor. He wondered who would be chosen this time.

That living mass of cyan light was hiding in the earthly ancestral root of Yan Capital. It had released the news, drawing cultivators from all directions to select a successor.

Without doubt, this would provoke an enormous upheaval.

This Flower-Viewing Terrace was indeed the finest seat in the house, offering a panoramic view of the garden's beauty.

In the garden, waterfalls and springs cascaded among flowers, trees, and pavilions, lending the scenery a lively grace. Long bridges lay across the water like jade dragons soaring, adding an air of divine elegance.

In the dead of winter, the pavilions remained lush and green, with a hundred flowers vying for beauty and spirit springs gurgling—a truly exquisite sight. It drew many visitors, a worthy claimant to the title of the world's finest scenic spot.

"Brother Xiao, if there's any way I can be of use, please do not hesitate to speak. Even if it means walking through fire and crossing blades, I won't bat an eye." Wu Ming's words were earnest, as if baring his heart, but whether they came from his true heart was something only a ghost would know.

Xiao Chen smiled and personally poured him a glass of fine wine. "You know I wouldn't come to the Temple of the Three Treasures without a reason. I do have a favor to ask—I want your Artifact Refining Sect to help me repair a few divine weapons."

"Oh? What sort of divine weapons? I'm sure anything Brother Xiao values must be extraordinary."

With a clang, Xiao Chen placed three broken swords on the jade table. "These are the swords."

Wu Ming drew in a sharp breath. How could he not recognize these War Swords—the terrifying divine weapons that had pierced his own Undying Imperial Heavenly Bell, the ones that had made him suffer so grievously.

And now they were broken. Unimaginable.

Wu Xiaoshi and the others also changed color. Though they had never seen the War Swords before, they had heard far too many rumors about them.

"It's hard to imagine how they were destroyed. I think even a half-ancestor would lack the power to shatter them." Wu Ming frowned. "It's not that I'm unwilling to help, but such divine weapons are simply too heaven-defying. They exceed the limits of our Artifact Refining Sect's abilities. I'm afraid there's no hope of repairing them."

"Could I borrow your sect's sacred scripture to study?" Xiao Chen made the request. "Don't worry, I won't look at your cultivation techniques—only the forging section. And I won't look for free."

"This…" Wu Ming's expression turned awkward.

"I'm serious. I really want to examine it." As Xiao Chen spoke, though he appeared calm and detached, a certain 'presence' naturally emanated from him.

It was an intangible power—enough to make Wu Xiaoshi and the other youths feel tremendous pressure. Shock filled their hearts.

"Very well, I will report to the elders." Wu Ming cursed inwardly, but he had no choice but to promise for now.

Just then, Totti, whom Xiao Chen hadn't seen in years, climbed up to the Flower-Viewing Terrace. The man hadn't changed much; his long golden hair still gleamed.

He was reeking of alcohol, first greeting with some nervousness, then slurring, "I just… had a few extra drinks with an honored guest. I'm late… I accept the punishment."

So he punished himself with three cups. Clearly, the man was drunk. After those three cups, he grabbed Xiao Chen's hand and wouldn't let go, mumbling, "Brother, you think… it's easy for me? Jin Sanyi has sold me several times already, and now that stuttering pest has shown up again. I… #￥￥#%!"

"Don't worry. I'll tell him to leave you alone this time." Xiao Chen laughed. "Actually, you two are quite alike—both have that wandering eye, both so… elegant and refined." He really didn't know how else to describe those two, so he settled on 'romantic figures.'

Hearing this, Totti acted like he'd found a kindred spirit. Drunkenly, he poured out his heart: "My greatest wish is to sell that stuttering bastard a few times myself! Back then… wasn't I the one who told people he only lasted thirteen seconds? But it wasn't me who spread it first—it was Niu Ren who let it out, and it's supposed to be true!"

"You big mouth." Fatty Zhuge patted his shoulder. "Stutterer holds a grudge. Watch yourself from now on."

Snow began to fall from the sky, settling into the lush garden and adding to the mood.

By then, the feast had ended. Xiao Chen and Wu Ming tore through space and entered the Cultivation World.

Xiao Chen wanted to restore the War Swords as quickly as possible. Whether he could assemble the sword formation would determine his future combat strength.

In the Cultivation World, countless immortal mountains and spiritual veins dotted the landscape—beautiful peaks everywhere. They flew for who knows how many thousands of miles before arriving at the Artifact Refining Sect.

The divine mountain was majestic and sacred, abundant with spiritual energy. Immortal cranes danced above, and rare herbs carpeted the ground—a pure land beyond the mortal world.

As Wu Ming entered the mountain gate, an immortal child immediately greeted him. It was clear Wu Ming held high status within the sect. Xiao Chen was taken by an immortal crane to a palace among a grove of emerald bamboo to await news.

When the elders of the Artifact Refining Sect heard Wu Ming's report and carefully examined the broken swords, they were all stunned. As masters of artifact refinement, the War Swords were legendary to them.

"Legend says there are forty-nine of these War Swords. When assembled, they possess heaven-defying power. If they were to fall into our hands…"

Wu Ming quickly cautioned, "Elders, our sect currently has no half-ancestor, and the man in question is someone who can contend with half-ancestors. Better to think about how to send him away."

Xiao Chen was invited to the palace atop the divine peak. Four Imperial-level elders at the Earth-Penetrating realm received him.

"These War Swords were forged with a heaven-defying method. To piece them back together is likely impossible."

"Not even a glimmer of hope?" Xiao Chen refused to give up.

"Even if we forced a reconnection, the internal sword formation would be lost. The War Swords would degenerate into ordinary divine weapons." This opinion matched the speculations of Tianwaitian and the others.

"That's because the one who forged these War Swords was at least an Ancestral God. Such divine objects are beyond our ability to repair. Only an Ancestral God could do it."

Xiao Chen felt nearly despairing. The conditions were too harsh—he was powerless.

"Eh? This is… a pre-heaven sword, not forged by human hands!" An elder suddenly exclaimed, his expression changing repeatedly.

"What did you say?" Xiao Chen stared fixedly at the elder from the Artifact Refining Sect, who was holding a broken sword and examining it.

"Oh. Nothing." The old man, with the bearing of an immortal, was now as calm as still water and placed the broken sword back on the tea table.

Xiao Chen broke into a smile. An unexpected development was a good thing. If it had been utterly condemned, then the perfect sword formation would never be restored.

"Senior, please don't hold back. Do tell."

"I just suddenly felt that this War Sword seems to be pre-heaven by nature, not forged by human hands. That would be consistent with the legends." The elder spoke calmly. "The Great Derivation number is fifty, and only forty-nine are used. Fifty represents the myriad things of heaven and earth; the one not used represents a variable before the birth of heaven and earth. This saying is said to be linked to the War Swords. Since there exists a variable that precedes heaven and earth, then these War Swords are certainly not the work of human hands. And thus, repair becomes even more impossible."

"Very well. Then I'll take my leave." Xiao Chen stood up and turned to go.

Wu Ming rose to see him out.

"No need. I'm returning to the Nine Provinces. Many thanks this time."

"You're welcome. We didn't help at all. I'm truly ashamed." Wu Ming saw Xiao Chen out of the mountain gate.

Xiao Chen tore through space and departed.

When Wu Ming re-entered the palace, he found the elders apparently very excited.

"Unbelievable… such a thing actually exists in this world."

Seeing the elders so out of control, Wu Ming knew they had made a major discovery at the last moment. He quickly transmitted sound: "Careful. That fellow might be suspicious. Elders, even if you have found something, don't show it. I'm afraid he might come back."

The four elders quickly returned to normal. They began to communicate secretly through spiritual transmission.

Wu Ming asked urgently, "Elders, what astonishing discovery have you made?"

"We've discovered a colossal secret!"

"What secret?" Wu Ming felt his heartbeat quicken.

"Eternal Light!"

"What?!" Wu Ming felt his own pulse race. He quickly transmitted, "The Eternal Light recorded on the last page of our sect's supreme scripture? Wasn't that just a conjecture—a theoretical possibility? Does it really exist?"

"Of course. The broken War Swords just now confirmed it." The elder who spoke was extremely agitated, transmitting secretly: "Now I understand why the War Swords are so miraculous, why they are weapons that can slay Ancestral Gods. They have a world-shaking origin. They were absolutely forged from Eternal Light."

"Eternal Light—how could such a thing exist?!" Wu Ming could not believe it, muttering in extreme shock. "That would mean… more than ten Ancestral Gods fell in the same place?!"

"We must find the Eternal Light!"

"Read through all the histories of the Nine Provinces and the Four Worlds—we're sure to deduce where the Eternal Light is buried."

Xiao Chen had indeed, as Wu Ming suspected, turned back. From the shadows, he saw the several figures in the palace with calm expressions, showing no unusual behavior.

But he did not leave. He concealed himself on this divine mountain, knowing that elder still had hidden information he hadn't revealed.

He waited three days before he found an opportunity. Silently, he slipped into that elder's meditation chamber and discovered the elder was buried in a mountain of research materials—all kinds of ancient texts.

Among them were many jade books, stone inscriptions, and tablets, some bearing scripts not from this age of civilization—they looked exactly like the celestial scripts from the destroyed eras described by Tianwaitian and Renwairen.

"This old fellow really did find something."

Xiao Chen struck without warning, using the twenty-seven War Swords to seal off this area of heaven and earth, silently imprisoning the elder's meditation chamber.

Then he walked in. The dark-iron battle suit over his body gleamed with a cold, sinister light.

"You… how did you get in?"

Seeing Xiao Chen break into his cave dwelling, the elder's heart pounded wildly. He knew things had gone wrong.

"During the Calamity of the False Gods, I killed half-ancestors and attended the funerals of many powerhouses. My hands are steeped in blood. Today, I won't mind adding one more Imperial-level cultivator at the Earth-Penetrating realm to the list."

Xiao Chen walked step by step deeper into the cave. His face was sharp as a knife, his expression resolute; his black hair drifted without a wind. The dark-iron armor glittered with shadowy light, and the broken swords in his hands flashed with a bloody sheen.

It brought overwhelming pressure to bear on the elder.

A straightforward, blunt intimidation—highly effective.

By now, Xiao Chen's name was known throughout the Nine Provinces and the Four Worlds.

Two hundred years ago, he had sent the illusory half-ancestors to their doom. One hundred fifty years ago, he fought the Yaksha Half-Ancestor and others on the Forbidden Sea. And just recently, in the Western Lands, he had gravely wounded the Asura Half-Ancestor and the Skeleton King, forcing them to retreat.

His fierce reputation shook the Four Worlds and thundered through the Nine Provinces.

"What do you want?" In this world, no one is truly unafraid of death—some are merely stronger-willed, others weaker.

"I'm actually an easygoing man. If others don't force my hand, I never take a life. But today is different. The War Swords are far too important to me." Xiao Chen fixed the elder with his gaze. "Tell me the secret you've discovered. Otherwise, don't blame me for being ruthless and spilling your blood across five paces."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I truly can't repair the War Swords." The elder gradually calmed down.

"Very well. Since you won't speak, I'll kill you and extract the memories directly from your soul." Xiao Chen's words were merciless.

This elder was undoubtedly one of the strong-willed, but even he changed color under these circumstances.

"You…" His face darkened, his expression fluctuating. Finally, he said, "Fine. I'll talk."

"Don't think you can deceive me with lies. I will verify with the other elders. If there's any discrepancy, don't blame me for my lack of courtesy. Your Artifact Refining Sect may be powerful, with countless battle formations, but if I want to ambush someone, it's still quite easy." Xiao Chen's expression was stern.

"Very well. I'll tell you the truth. We discovered… Eternal Light. The War Swords were forged from it." The elder helplessly revealed the truth.

"What is Eternal Light?" Xiao Chen had never heard of it before. His face showed confusion.

"It is recorded on the last page of our Artifact Refining Sect's supreme scripture. Our sect's founder speculated about a kind of divine light—purely theoretical. Only the most ancient sects have speculations and records about such things."

"I want to see the last page of your supreme scripture." Xiao Chen made the demand directly.

When Xiao Chen opened the transcribed copy of the scripture and turned to the final page, he read it carefully.

Immediately, he showed an expression of utter shock.

Leaving aside Eternal Light's various inconceivable abilities and miraculous effects, just its formation was far too terrifying.

It required at least ten Ancestral Gods to fall in the same place. Their divine souls must not be extinguished, but their consciousness must have dissolved, leaving only pure Ancestral God souls interwoven—burning together into a divine light that would never be extinguished, called Eternal Light.

"Does such a place exist in this world… ten or more Ancestral Gods buried together?!"

Xiao Chen was truly shaken.