209: Chapter 209: A Sword to Thank the Fateful Years

Ling Xi quickly reined in that slight hint of guilt, her cold gaze, like ten-thousand-year-old ice, slowly turned once more to Murong Qiu, who was the only one left in the arena, his face ashen.

Ling Xi's cold gaze, like ten-thousand-year-old ice that never melts, slowly turned to Murong Qiu, the only one left in the arena, his face devoid of color.

This gaze, sharper than any Divine Weapon, instantly pierced through Murong Qiu's last vestiges of madness and stubbornness, and it also seemed to illuminate his decaying Soul.

"A Dao Heart covered in dust, Lifespan is merely an excuse. To fear death and cling to life, that is the true demon."

Ling Xi's words were not loud, yet each word was like a thunderclap, exploding in Murong Qiu's Sea of Consciousness!

There was no reprimand, no disdain; it was as if she wasn't judging him, but rather stating a fundamental truth of the Universe.

To fear death and cling to life, that is the true demon... These mere dozen words, like the sharpest Sword of Heavenly Dao, instantly cleaved through all his disguises, justifications, and self-deception!

It laid bare his most unbearable, most unfaceable inner self, exposing it in broad daylight!

Yes... for these past few hundred years, how could he have truly been seeking the Great Dao?

He was merely indulging his fear of death and fostering the demonic greed within his heart, all under the seemingly legitimate reason of "extending Lifespan"!

His Dao Heart had long been devoured by this "fear of death" demon!

All his obsessions, all his madness, seemed so ridiculous, so pathetic in the face of these words!

Murong Qiu was struck as if by lightning, his body trembling violently. He abruptly raised his head, looking in disbelief at the young woman in green who had spoken these words.

Her gaze was calm and unwavering, yet as profound as a sea of stars. That look... that look was not at all like a young Cultivator; it was more like an... supreme existence, overlooking the mortal world and presiding over Reincarnation!

At this moment, all his lucky and all his stubbornness were utterly crushed. A profound shame and a sense of despair, of being completely seen through and having nowhere to hide, poured over him like ice water, extinguishing his last flicker of madness.

The blood-red and madness in his eyes completely receded, replaced by an extreme shock, bewilderment, and an uncontrollable shame and realization rising from the depths of his Soul.

He staggered back a step, and the autumn water sword in his hand let out a mournful cry, its radiance dimming, as if it too felt the drastic change in its master's state of mind.

"I... have lost..."

His voice was dry and hoarse, as if it took all his strength to utter these three words. But this defeat seemed to refer to more than just today's battle.

He looked around, at these impossibly young yet incredibly powerful faces, sensing the vibrant, indomitable Dao Intent emanating from them. That gaze, that Aura, how familiar it was... Once upon a time, he, Murong Qiu, had also been like that!

The floodgates of memory burst open, and past events surged into his mind like a tide.

He remembered his youth, when he left the sect with his sword, full of vigor, intending to measure the heavens and earth with his sword and right all the injustices in the world!

At that time, his Sword Heart was clear and irresistible; his single sword gleamed coldly, his name shaking the Eastern Region. He was an idol for countless young swordsmen, hailed as the Genius most likely to reach the realm of Sword Saint.

"The Autumn Water Long Sword stirs the stars, its Qi soaring over a thousand mountains as a youth wanders..."

He murmured to himself, a distant light flashing in his cloudy eyes—a recollection of his lost youth.

But time... is the cruelest blade.

He didn't know when it started, but his former sharpness was blunted, his former ideals drowned by reality.

Watching his peers and friends turn to dust one by one, feeling his own Qi and blood gradually decline, touching the barrier of the Saint realm that seemed so close yet so out of reach... he became afraid.

He began to busily seek Medicinal Pills for extending Lifespan, began to scheme for resources, and for that illusory glimmer of hope, he didn't hesitate to abandon his dignity, joining forces with other old monsters to ambush juniors and snatch the legendary seven star secret token and undying divine medicine.

"Heh heh... hahaha..."

Murong Qiu suddenly let out a low laugh, his laughter filled with endless self-mockery and desolation.

"To think I, Murong Qiu, prided myself as a Sword Dao Grandmaster, cultivating for over a thousand years... only to end up becoming the very kind of person I most disdained and detested in my youth... trapped by Lifespan, blinded by greed, my Dao Heart covered in dust without even realizing it... How ridiculous! How pathetic!"

His gaze fell once again on Fang Hanyu's pure and powerful Chaos Sword Intent. That look was no longer one of jealousy and madness, but a nearly devout envy, and a deep... regret.

"I once thought that the sword in my hand could slay demons and devils, and allow me to act on my grievances... Now I know that the sharpest sword in this world cannot cut through the passage of time, nor break the shackles of Lifespan... Time is merciless, it specifically slays Prodigies..."

He took a deep breath, as if to inhale the hundreds of years of decadence and regret into his lungs, then slowly exhaled.

His eyes became exceptionally calm, even carrying a clear, almost liberated quality.

"Today... seeing your brilliance, I realize the vastness of heaven and earth, the breadth of the Sword Dao... and it has allowed this lost Soul, before death, to glimpse a trace of the long-forgotten... original aspiration of the sword."

He looked at Fang Hanyu, his eyes no longer holding resentment, only a sense of openness and an almost grateful release.

"To be able to witness such pure Sword Intent before death, to bear witness to the infinite possibilities of the future of the Sword Dao... Perhaps, this is time's... last mercy to this old, lost Soul."

Before his words finished, a resolute look flashed in his eyes, and he suddenly reversed all the remaining spiritual energy and Sword Yuan within his body!

"Om—!"

The autumn water sword let out an unprecedented, piercing cry, as if weeping blood. The sword's radiance surged, no longer the cold light of killing, but a brilliant glow of burning life and returning to Origin! This radiance vaguely reflected the image of his spirited youth.

"Murong Qiu... with this broken body, thanks you all... for allowing me... to... bid farewell... with dignity..."

The next moment, the Sword Qi all around him erupted, but instead of attacking anyone, it all collapsed inward, condensing at his glabella!

"Puff—!"

A soft sound, like a candle flame extinguishing.

A phantom sword shadow, purely condensed from his lifelong Sword Dao cultivation and his final Divine Soul, flashed across his glabella and instantly annihilated all his life force.

His body slowly fell backward, a look of liberated calm on his face, even faintly showing a serene return to his original aspiration.

The autumn water sword, which had accompanied him for nearly a thousand years, let out a final mournful cry. Its blade shattered inch by inch, turning into specks of flowing light that lingered around him, like a loyal companion, escorting its master on his final journey.

A Sword Dao king who once commanded the winds and clouds and was renowned in the Eastern Region, in this tragic and resolute manner, drew a period to his misguided path—a period filled with regret, yet preserving his final dignity and original aspiration.

A deadly silence fell over the arena, with only the wind whimpering, as if weeping and lamenting.

Xiao Ruobai put away his smile, his expression complex as he looked at Murong Qiu's fallen figure, finally letting out a soft sigh: "Alas... the blade of time is indeed merciless."

Fang Hanyu silently watched the dissipating sword shadow and the shattered autumn water sword. The Chaos Sword Qi flowing around him subtly fluctuated, as if paying homage to a former swordsman.

Ling Xi's gaze remained cold, but in the depths of her eyes, a faint ripple of emotion, concerning the impermanence of fate, seemed to flash.

Wang Xiaopang, inside the light cocoon, stared blankly at this scene, his heart a mix of emotions.

Three chapters today!