No spiritual root? I devour the origins of all paths.

Chapter 28 Forbidden Land

On the seventh day after Su Qingyuan left Qingyun Sect, Jian Xuan placed a yellowed scroll in front of Ling Chen. The edges of the scroll were worn and frayed, and the sealing wax stamp at the seal was so blurred that the pattern was almost illegible. However, when the scroll was unfolded, the array diagram drawn with cinnabar in the center of the scroll was still as bright as new.

"This is a map of the outer perimeter of the forbidden area," Jian Xuan pointed to several markings on the outer edge of the array, "and—the coordinates of the entrance to the Celestial Venerable's Ruins. Ever since you destroyed the Shadow Demon's remnant soul, the seal deep within the forbidden area has been continuously loosening, and the outer sword intent barrier has spontaneously retreated by at least two miles. No one has ever gone in, but based on the ancient seal script inscriptions on the array, it is highly likely that the Celestial Venerable's Ruins are located directly below the seal."

Ling Chen carefully examined the ancient map. The array inscriptions used ancient seal script from ten thousand years ago, the strokes twisting like sword marks. Ordinary people couldn't decipher them at all, but in the vision of the Eye of Truth, those seal characters disassembled and reassembled on their own, revealing a line of even more ancient characters—the handwriting left by the Celestial Venerable himself. Mo Lao's voice resounded in his sea of ​​consciousness, with a barely suppressed tremor: "This is indeed your handwriting. Ten thousand years ago, after you sealed the Demon Lord, before your remnant soul dissipated, you left behind a final oral decree, sealed within this map."

"An imperial edict?"

"The Nine Revolutions Demon Sealing Formation still has three foundations remaining, one of which is located in the forbidden area of ​​the Azure Cloud Sect. This foundation has been suppressed by your natal sword intent for ten thousand years. Now that the Demon Lord is about to awaken, the sword intent alone is no longer sufficient to maintain the seal. You need to personally enter the ruins and retrieve the Celestial Venerable Origin that you left in the formation back then—that is the natal origin that you separated from your own soul when you sealed the Demon Lord in your previous life, equivalent to one-third of the Celestial Venerable's soul power. Only when the origin is returned to its rightful place can your cultivation break through the third seal. At that time, the Myriad Dao Returning to the Ruins Diagram will truly open up to you, and you can devour the origins of all things without any seals blocking your way."

Ling Chen stared at the winding route on the ancient map—starting at the Sword Stele Forest on the outskirts of the forbidden area, passing through the weakest natural crack in the sword intent barrier, and then continuing down for a long stretch without any markings. He looked up and asked Jian Xuan, "Should I go alone?"

"The seal at the entrance to the ruins only recognizes the aura of the Celestial Venerable himself; I cannot enter. As for the interior of the ruins—the area around the array base likely retains residual energy from the war between gods and demons; anyone who rashly trespasses could easily cause trouble." Jian Xuan pushed a sword talisman in front of him. "This sword talisman was personally blessed by the Supreme Elder. Crush it, and the entire protective array will completely seal the entrance to the forbidden area, holding for three days. Within three days, no matter what happens below, no one will come out of the forbidden area, nor will anyone go in. But if you haven't come out by the end of three days—"

"I understand." Ling Chen put the sword talisman into his sleeve and then unsheathed both swords at his waist to check them over. The Broken Army Blade was wrapped with a non-slip dragon-skin grip, and the cracked edges of the Broken Thought Sword were repaired to a pale gold color, slightly warm to the touch. The eight protective swords in his dantian sensed his impending departure and emitted a soft hum, automatically entering a half-drawn, battle-ready state without the need for spiritual power.

"Set off."

The Sword Stele Forest is located on the outer edge of the forbidden area. It is perpetually shrouded in a grayish-white sword mist. The broken swords embedded in the ground are even more densely packed than those outside the Sword Tomb. Some have only half their hilts protruding, while others have blades rusted into thin flakes, their inscriptions long since worn away by time. The sword intent here is so dense it's almost tangible; every step feels like walking on a ground paved with countless sword blades. Ling Chen walked through it, his Severing Thoughts Sword automatically drawing half an inch from its sheath, dissolving the overly sharp remaining sword intent before him. The further he went, the thicker the mist became, and scattered pebbles appeared under his feet, so broken they were unrecognizable, but their arrangement clearly showed they were man-made.

At the end of the road stood a stone gate. Built in a crack between two natural boulders, the gate bore inscriptions he had seen before on ancient seal script scrolls—inscriptions from ten thousand years ago, powerful and vigorous, each stroke imbued with sword intent. He didn't reach out to push it open. There was a seal on the gate—a sword imprint carved with chaotic spiritual energy, which for ten thousand years had been absorbing the spiritual energy of the forbidden land's clouds and mist to maintain its operation. Unless the power was of the same origin, forcibly breaking it would only trigger a backlash.

Ling Chen raised his right hand, channeling chaotic spiritual energy into his palm. Sensing the shared aura, the sword imprint flickered briefly before slowly disappearing into the inner side of the stone door. The stone door slid open with a deep, resonant thud. Inside was a deep, dark passageway, its walls lined with long-extinguished spirit stone lamp bases. The air was dry and cold, carrying a desolate air that had been sealed away for millennia. He gripped the Severing Thoughts and walked towards the end of the passageway, his footsteps echoing lonely echoes on the stone slabs.

The passageway suddenly opened up, revealing a colossal underground palace. The palace ceiling was extremely high, and the star stones embedded in the dome still emitted a faint blue glow, casting the entire palace in a hazy, half-light. The walls inside were covered with densely packed murals—not decorations, but historical accounts of the war. Every crucial moment of the war between gods and demons was depicted in these murals. On the east wall, the Celestial Venerable led his three attendants into battle: the Ice Attendant wielding Frost on the left, the Flame Attendant holding Heavenly Blaze on the right, and the Sword Attendant, his back to the Celestial Venerable, still sheathed. On the south wall, the Battle of the Conferred God Platform was depicted, with countless swords standing tall, the Demon Lord's figure portrayed as a black tide sweeping across the sky; the Sword Attendant was no longer depicted. On the north wall, the Celestial Venerable himself was depicted, his long hair flowing freely, his natal sword resting horizontally before his knees, countless rays of light scattering like meteors around him, each ray marked with an ancient seal name and its affiliation. At the very center is the origin of chaos, and at the outermost edge are the five elements—this is the original lineage of the Myriad Paths Celestial Venerable Technique, and all the cultivation paths he personally created in his previous life.

The central array base was carved from a single piece of starstone, nine zhang in circumference, its surface densely covered with demon-sealing inscriptions. A ghostly blue longsword phantom was embedded in the center of the base; it was the natal sword intent that the Celestial Venerable had extracted from his own soul when sealing the Demon Lord, used to suppress the core of the Nine Revolutions Demon-Sealing Array's mortal realm base. For ten thousand years, the sword intent had guarded this place day and night, its remaining power weakened to almost transparent, the sword phantom itself reduced to a thin, ethereal form.

The sword intent sensed its master's return and emitted an extremely faint tremor, as if the grievances suppressed for ten thousand years had finally found someone to confide in.

Just as Ling Chen's hand was about to grasp the sword hilt, the stone door behind him slammed shut, and a chilling laugh echoed from the dome.

"Your Excellency, it's been a long time."

Ling Chen turned and looked up. A young man with an unfamiliar face, dressed in the sword robe of an outer disciple of the Qingyun Sect, stood on the chains hanging from the dome, looking down. His face was unfamiliar, his features so plain that they were unremarkable, the kind of outer disciple you could pass by a hundred times in the sect and not remember. But his eyes were dark red, with two dancing demonic flames burning in his pupils.

"Shadow Demon General—no, you are a remnant soul possessed by one of the former subordinates of the previous host, Lu Huai, after being completely corrupted by demonic energy."

"Clever." The man leaped down from the chains, his movements almost silent. "That good-for-nothing Liu Yuan, he clearly had the exact location of the Severing Thoughts, yet you used him to wipe out my old subordinates. But it doesn't matter—my old subordinates are all dead, my mission is still complete. My master sent me to confirm one thing: whether the remaining few array foundations of the Nine Revolutions Demon Sealing Array are still functioning."

The corners of his mouth curved into a wide smile, revealing his gleaming white teeth: "It seems that the array foundation beneath the Qingyun Sect is so weak that even the spiritual energy fluctuations of a Qi Gathering Realm cultivator can trigger it. My lord, thank you for opening the door for me."

Ling Chen slowly drew the Broken Thought Sword. The cracks on the sword gleamed with a pale gold edge under the dark blue starlight. He gripped the sword with his right hand, while his left hand secretly held the sword talisman.

"How did you get in?"

"Sword Tomb, skin change." The man pointed to his face. "Four days ago, this outer disciple mistakenly entered the outer perimeter of the Sword Tomb. I used his human skin to evade the protective sword intent's detection. Unfortunately, it didn't last long—this skin is too weak. At the late stage of Qi Gathering, even the best concealment techniques can't withstand the magic power of a Void Realm cultivator. But it's enough to kill you."

The Void Realm demonic cultivator stopped talking. His demonic techniques were completely different from the previous Void Realm demonic general—there were no giant claws or blades, but he condensed his demonic energy into hundreds of needles as thin as spider silk, silently covering the entire hall. Each demonic needle was invisible in the ghostly blue starlight, completely undetectable to the naked eye. Once a living creature stepped into the needle array, hundreds of demonic needles would simultaneously pierce its meridians.

His Eye of Insight was operating at full power, countless fine, dark red trails appearing amidst the ghostly blue starlight. But seeing the trails didn't mean he could dodge them all—his Shadow Step was pushed to its limit, his figure weaving and shifting through the rain of needles, avoiding dozens of demonic needles aimed straight for vital points. Several needles still grazed his left shoulder and right leg, instantly piercing his sword robe with several charred holes. These needles weren't just physically penetrating—their tips were coated with the purest corrosive power of the Shadow Demon Technique, and once they pierced his meridians, they would flow backward along his bloodstream, eroding his dantian. He couldn't be held here for too long.

Ling Chen flashed behind the array base. His peripheral vision swept over the ring of stone pillars within the hall, some on the verge of collapse. The Severing Thoughts Sword slashed first at the base of the nearest pillar, followed by all seven protective swords, which struck the remaining pillars in turn. The inscriptions on the dome flickered violently, and large chunks of rock rained down from the ceiling. The demonic cultivators were forced to divert a large number of demonic needles to shatter the falling boulders.

"court death!"

The demonic cultivator raised his hand, conjuring a massive black blade of demonic energy that slashed horizontally. Ling Chen parried with his sword—the deepest golden line on the sword's spine was slightly bent as it blocked the demonic energy blade, but ultimately did not break. In the aftershocks of their battle, the ethereal blue sword intent phantom at the center of the array suddenly trembled violently, and a will not belonging to any living being awakened from the depths of the sword shadow—the last remaining power of the Celestial Venerable within the sword intent.

"Using the sword as a guide—returning to one's rightful place."

A deep blue sword intent transformed into an extremely thin sword beam, piercing into Ling Chen's brow in mid-air. A vast, ocean-like power of origin surged in—not borrowed from the Condensation Realm, but the chaotic origin he had personally extracted from his soul in his previous life, returning to its rightful place. A barely perceptible crack appeared in the third seal of the Myriad Paths Returning to Nothingness Diagram within his dantian. Chaotic spiritual power, like a flood released from its restraints, surged forth from the crack. His cultivation hadn't broken through to the peak of Qi Gathering, but the quality of his spiritual power had undergone a qualitative change—no longer simply chaotic in color, but faintly revealing the nascent forms of myriad paths; the outlines of the Five Elements, wind and thunder, metal, wood, water, fire, earth, ice and flame… countless attributes flickered and faded within the vortex of spiritual power.

Ling Chen drew his sword.

Longing for home.

This sword strike was no longer confined to the framework of the Nine Heaven-Splitting Slashes, nor was it merely the self-sacrifice technique from the Sword Servant's inheritance—the chaotic sword intent, carrying the nascent forms of countless paths, crashed head-on into the demonic core in the demonic cultivator's chest with unstoppable momentum. Hundreds of needles formed from demonic energy shattered simultaneously, and countless golden sword marks appeared on the demonic cultivator's figure from the inside out, like a shattered bronze mirror. As the Severing Thought slowly withdrew from his chest, the golden sword light and the fragments of demonic energy dissipated into the air together.

The demonic cultivator's body crumbled inch by inch. He stared intently at the fading sword intent phantom behind Ling Chen, the remaining expression on his face not one of anger, but a morbid ecstasy. His lips moved one last time, but no sound came out, only the shape of his mouth moved—

"The gates to the Three Realms... are about to open."

The remaining demonic energy of the Void Realm demonic cultivator completely dissipated. Ling Chen knelt on one knee before the array base, panting. The cracks on the Broken Thought Sword hadn't increased, but he could feel his sword intent was greatly depleted. The golden line deep within the sword's spine was even thinner than before he drew the sword. The sword talisman was still clutched in his left hand, unused—he had subconsciously tried to crush it during the most critical moment of the chaotic battle, but ultimately didn't.

If the Demon Lord awakens, even if the protective array seals the forbidden area tightly, it will only prolong the battle by three days. And what about after three days? He never wanted to drag things out for three days. The disciples of the Azure Cloud Sect, the Sunset Valley, the Iron Sword Sect, everyone who fought for their lives in the siege—he didn't want anyone to die for him. Back then, she didn't turn back on the Conferred God Platform, and now the Nine Revolutions Demon-Sealing Array has weakened considerably; the Sword Servant's choice is irreversible. But he still has a chance to rewrite the fates of the Ice Servant and the Flame Servant.

The central sword intent phantom transformed its last remaining power into a dark blue sword-shaped mark, gently imprinting it on the back of Ling Chen's right hand. It wasn't a wound, but a seal—the core of the Nine Revolutions Demon-Sealing Array's mortal realm foundation, now transferred to the back of his hand. As long as this sword mark remained, the Demon Lord could never truly descend to the mortal realm. If the seal were to shatter completely, the sword mark would shield him from the final blow. The price would be the complete dissipation of the sword intent and the complete collapse of the Nine Revolutions Demon-Sealing Array.

Mo Lao's voice rang out from the silence: "The sword seal recognizes its master. The seal you personally laid down ten thousand years ago is now being guarded by you. It can be considered a fulfillment of cause and effect."

Ling Chen turned his hand over and looked at the remaining starlight on the dome for a while, then covered the sword mark with his sleeve, hung the Po Jun Dao back on his waist, sheathed the Duan Nian Jian, and walked out of the forbidden area. Sunlight shone through the mist of the Sword Stele Forest. Jian Xuan was still guarding outside the entrance. When he saw Ling Chen walk out of the stone gate, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. His gaze fell on the faintly glowing sword mark on the back of Ling Chen's hand, and he was silent for a moment.

"If the Sword Servant had seen you come out alive back then, he would have been very happy."

Ling Chen glanced back at the slowly closing stone door. The Celestial Venerable, the Three Attendants, and the myriad rays of light on the mural disappeared back into darkness. The angle from which the Sword Attendant faced the Celestial Venerable with Duan Nian on his back seemed to be smiling. He didn't turn around and said to Jian Xuan, "Let's go. There are still many things to do when we get back."

The sword imprint beneath his sleeve shone slightly, like a silent promise. As long as the sword imprint on the back of his hand remained, the Demon Lord could never truly descend. And what he had to do was step into the Spirit Realm, find Burning Heaven, and return alive before the sword imprint dissipated.