Heaven and earth stretched vast and boundless, clouds drifting in ethereal haze.
Above all living beings lay the Celestial Realm, where jade palaces and jeweled towers shimmered faintly amid the clouds, and the immense Heavenly Court appeared from afar both resplendent and solemn.
All mortals knew that heaven had nine firmaments, yet few realized that even the Ninth Heaven had an end.
Now, the Celestial Lord Qingxu, Xiao Lang, stood at that very boundary. He hovered in midair, and beneath his feet rolled the Endless Sea of Clouds.
The Endless Sea had once been the origin of all life and remained the source of the world’s power. The immortal qi, spiritual qi, demonic qi, and devilish qi that nourished all beings under heaven were born from here.
It rose upward without limit and plunged downward through all realms. It was the beginning, and it was also the end of everything.
Here gathered the purest and most concentrated immortal qi in existence, tens of thousands of times denser than anywhere else in the Celestial Realm.
At such terrifying density, the immortal qi that once nurtured the heavens had transformed into the most dreadful pressure in the world, crushing any life that might exist. Even immortals had no power to resist it. Only the four supreme Celestial Lords could stand here unharmed.
And even they could only stand.
Xiao Lang looked down at the seemingly tranquil sea of clouds, his brows knitting tighter as anxiety deepened in his eyes.
At that moment, two streaks of starlight swept in from the far end of the Celestial Realm and halted at his side in an instant, resolving into two women of imposing presence.
“Xie Jianbai still hasn’t come out?” asked Celestial Lord Lingyun, Ning Ruo.
Among the four Celestial Lords, two were male and two female. Aside from Celestial Lord Zheqing, Xie Jianbai, the other three were all present here.
Xiao Lang’s expression was grave. He raised two fingers, sending a strand of divine power into the Endless Sea. It was like casting a pebble into water, yet no ripple arose.
“I can’t sense his power,” Xiao Lang said in a low voice. “He must be even deeper.”
“What a madman,” Mu Qing sighed softly.
Within the Endless Sea churned the chaos of all living realms, along with every form of power cultivated through countless paths. Though the body of a Celestial Lord no longer feared death, one would still have to endure the agony of flesh being sliced and bones being scraped without cease. Worse still, the sea teemed with innumerable clashing consciousnesses that, over time, could shake even one’s Dao heart.
This was the beginning of the world, yet it was also like a dumping ground for all living beings. Diving into the Endless Sea was an act with a hundred harms and not a single benefit. No one would ever choose to do such a thing.
No one except Xie Jianbai.
“He’s doing this for his upcoming descent to the mortal world to undergo tribulation. We still don’t know how long he’ll be gone from the Celestial Realm,” Xiao Lang said with a headache. “It’s been nearly ten thousand years, and his temperament hasn’t changed at all.”
The other two Celestial Lords wore complicated expressions.
In the beginning, the Endless Sea had maintained perfect balance. It reclaimed the residual power that had passed through heaven and earth and been tainted by all things, while continuously generating new power in turn, harmonizing the two in an endless cycle as natural as the rising and setting of the sun and moon.
Yet over these past ten thousand years, the Celestial Lords had sensed something amiss. The newly born power was gradually diminishing year by year, while a corruptive force was spreading within the Endless Sea.
This was no good sign. The realms were vast beyond measure, and the Endless Sea seemed boundless. To others, a slight contamination of such an immense ocean might appear insignificant.
But only those who grasped the laws of heaven and earth understood that the balance was being broken. If it was not stopped in time, the future might hold calamities beyond reckoning.
Yet they could not directly alter the Endless Sea. All they could do was exert their utmost effort to lay down seals and slow the spread of corrosion. Or, like Xie Jianbai, descend personally into its depths.
Xie Jianbai cultivated the Path of Slaughter. He was the only human cultivator of that path who had survived to ascend. Even the founding ancestor of the Path of Slaughter had not lived to face tribulation.
The path had withered for lack of talent, for it was a vicious Dao. The more one killed, the stronger one became. Advancement demanded standing at the brink of life and death, rowing against the current where to cease was to perish.
To force practitioners forward, cultivators of the Path of Slaughter gradually lost their senses, until even pain vanished. Only in killing or on the verge of death could they briefly experience what it meant to feel like a normal person.
Most cultivators entered this Dao out of desperation. In time, they could not endure such inhuman existence and were consumed by murderous intent, rarely meeting a good end.
Only Xie Jianbai had refined himself into a weapon. Though the youngest among the Celestial Lords, he stood foremost in strength. The other three had never envied him. Whenever the matter arose, they could only sigh.
From the mortal world to the pinnacle of all realms, Xie Jianbai had killed his way upward, earning the love and reverence of the world, yet he could not taste the joy of immortality. Day after day he endured the torment of killing intent, and no one knew whether that was fortune or misfortune.
At his level, the Path of Slaughter meant truly slaying Buddha or god alike if they stood in his way.
Only Xie Jianbai had the courage to enter the Endless Sea and purify its corruption with his own body.
As the three conversed, the surrounding immortal qi suddenly trembled. The sea of clouds churned violently, and a streak of sword intent cleaved through its surface, soaring into the sky and dimming the heavens for a breath.
When the white light faded, a figure stood suspended in midair.
He wore flowing white robes, wide sleeves billowing. In his long, distinct-fingered hand he held a blood-red profound sword. Overwhelming pressure surged outward, only to recoil sharply before touching the three.
In an instant, all released sword intent vanished completely, as if nothing had occurred.
Having just returned from the Endless Sea, Xie Jianbai still possessed such absolute control over his power, as though he had not been affected at all. His self-mastery was astonishing.
The three approached him. Among them, Xiao Lang was a god born with a divine godhood, cultivating the power of healing and spring’s renewal. His brows were tightly drawn as he raised a hand to channel strength into Xie Jianbai.
“You came too early,” Xie Jianbai said calmly as he sheathed his sword. “The next sealing should be done before I descend to the mortal world.”
“We were worried something might happen to you,” Ning Ruo replied irritably. She had a straightforward temper and had never gotten along with his disposition. Whenever they spoke, sparks were inevitable.
Xie Jianbai was without heart, without desire, without emotion. He had made himself into a weapon.
His immortal bearing was cold and peerless, his presence aloof and noble. Merely standing there, he embodied every fantasy mortal held of a celestial being.
Yet no one dared admire his beauty. One who had walked the Path of Slaughter to its summit carried killing intent too profoundly. The pressure had seeped into his very bones, surrounding him with an unmelting chill.
All his life, Xie Jianbai had done nothing but kill and cultivate. After ascending to the position of Celestial Lord, he had fewer chances to fight, which only drove him to delve deeper into cultivation and devise every possible way to push himself into extremity.
He was emotionless and thus incapable of understanding others’ concern. Whether Xiao Lang sought to heal him or Ning Ruo voiced their worry, Xie Jianbai found it meaningless. He would not die.
After so many years working together, the others had learned that no explanation would make him abandon these views, and so they simply let him be.
“You were gone so long this time. It truly won’t affect you?” Mu Qing asked with concern.
“It’s fine,” Xie Jianbai replied.
Xiao Lang then asked, “When you are in the Endless Sea… do you feel pain?”
“A little.”
Xiao Lang’s heart tightened. If any of the three of them entered the Endless Sea, they would certainly suffer excruciating torment. Even as Celestial Lords, they would not wish to endure the ceaseless sensation of flesh being carved and bones scraped.
Yet in that dreadful place, where even they would be in agony, Xie Jianbai could only feel a trace of pain. In his ordinary days he had already lost his sense of pain, touch, taste, and smell. Only there could he experience the faintest sting. For him, that pain seemed almost like a reward.
Xiao Lang longed to ask whether it was for that sliver of pain that Xie Jianbai insisted on entering the Endless Sea himself, but the question was too cruel to voice. And he strongly suspected that Xie Jianbai had already lost his sight.
His thoughts churned in disarray. Merely imagining it filled him with distress for Xie Jianbai, yet the man himself remained indifferent, as though none of it concerned him.
Clearly the three had come for his sake, yet he was the first to leave.
Ning Ruo stroked her chin and watched the streak of sword light as he departed. “We’re the ones standing here worrying ourselves sick, and he doesn’t seem affected at all.”
Mu Qing and Xiao Lang frowned deeply. In each other’s eyes they saw the same unease.
Xie Jianbai had made himself into a weapon, yet even weapons could shatter from excessive hardness. Even the Endless Sea required balance to endure. With such relentless self-damage, how many tens of thousands of years could he persist?
He was the strongest killing weapon under heaven and the Celestial Realm’s greatest support. But if one day that weapon lost control, what then?
“When Jianbai retrieves that one soul fragment, perhaps his condition will ease,” Mu Qing said to comfort Xiao Lang.
“Let us hope so,” Xiao Lang sighed.
Meanwhile, Xie Jianbai had already returned to his palace.
Other Sword Venerables kept at least a few minor immortals at their side to run errands, yet Xie Jianbai’s hall held no one but himself.
In the vast and merciless palace, he sat alone upon the high seat. The empty hall contained nothing but shelves of books and sword manuals.
He lifted a hand, and one manual flew into his grasp. His long lashes lowered, yet he did not look at the book. Instead, he turned his hand and ran his fingers over the pages, the contents of the sword manual thus reflecting directly into his sight.
At that moment, a faint tremor from the lower realm made his fingers pause.
The power he had left in the cultivation world… seemed to have acknowledged a master.