526: Chapter 526 Return to Eternal Darkness

Lu Changzhi's hands were trembling violently.

It was less like gripping a sword hilt and more like two wisps of a remnant Soul futilely clutching at a fading warmth.

The familiar, once-scorching touch of the dragon-subduing imperial weapon was now reduced to a mere lingering wisp of heat.

The faint chill last transmitted by the ice crystal on the Ancestral Sword Spirit's crossguard was also fading rapidly—like the last handful of snow in winter, melting away in his palm, leaving only nothingness.

These two fading temperatures were the last heartbeats of the comrades who had walked with him until now.

His body... was "weathering" away.

Gray-white light dust, like the finest sand, was irreversibly drifting away from every part of his existence.

His left arm, starting from the fingertips, was nearly transparent, as if it were about to merge into the Void Realm itself.

His right leg, from the knee down, had completely dissolved into dust, falling silently.

Most shocking was his chest—several huge, penetrating cracks, like a shattered glass vessel.

Through the cracks, one could see deep into his chest: not flesh and blood, but a slowly pulsing, violently dimming gray-white halo.

Within this halo were the earnest teachings of the Sword Mountain Ancestral Master, the final shouts of fellow Disciples who died in battle, the whispers of billions of Souls deep within his Bloodline... This was the final embodiment of the name "Lu Changzhi." Yet, at this moment, it flickered uncertainly, like a candle in the wind.

Lord Jixing was gasping.

This was the first time since he stepped into this starry dome that he had gasped so clearly.

The hideous sword wound on his chest, slashed open by the dragon-subduing imperial weapon, had not healed. Instead, it was like a burning golden rift, with stubborn Sword Intent that refused to be swallowed by "nothingness" dancing at its edges.

His clenched right fist was covered in crisscrossing, fine sword marks.

Dark golden power, containing the Origin of the Universe, was slowly leaking from these gaps—each drop that fell seemed to make the Void Realm tremble slightly.

His left shoulder, the wound left by the icy blue Sword Intent, was the most bizarre. Frost veins were slowly and firmly eroding inward, and every slight pulse brought a biting, piercing pain that reached the depths of his Soul.

As for Lord Zangxing, his state was even more miserable.

The dark red vortex of annihilation behind him, which had originally almost engulfed half the Star Domain, had now shrunk to barely cover his body, its color dim and its flow sluggish.

The phantom of the Dao spear, symbolizing the authority of "annihilation," was now like ink blurred by water, its edges indistinct.

His left arm hung limply, and on a terrifying wound running from his shoulder to his wrist, golden and icy blue Sword Intent gnawed at his Origin like maggots on bone.

Dark red light-fluid—the Origin flowing out after his "annihilation" divinity was torn—constantly spilled from the corners of his mouth and his wounds. Each drop that fell weakened the aura of death around him by a fraction.

Three people, three Daos, three existences pushed to the end of the road.

All were shattering, all were withering.

Lu Changzhi stood in the center of the shattered Void Realm, his left hand holding the dragon-subduing imperial weapon, its light flickering and covered in cracks, his right hand gripping the Ancestral Sword Spirit, its icy blue light dying and its spirit dissipating.

The golden and blue sword light, as weak as fireflies, still stubbornly intertwined, outlining a broken totem that was both immensely tragic and immensely firm.

He raised his eyes.

Lord Jixing was also looking at him. Lord Zangxing was adjusting his breathing with difficulty, his dark red gaze also piercing the Void Realm, locked onto him.

Three pairs of eyes, the last afterglow of three ultimate Daos, collided silently in the chaotic, unclear Void Realm.

No words were needed.

Nor was a final declaration necessary.

The next instant would be the end—the final, most brilliant burning before eternal extinction.

Lu Changzhi's fingers dug into the last bit of warmth on the hilt.

"Hum—!"

The dragon-subduing imperial weapon shook violently!

Countless spiderweb-like cracks on the blade suddenly erupted with unprecedented, scorching golden light!

This was not the release of light, but burning—the entire imperial weapon, from the tip to the crossguard, from the mourning Dragon Soul on the spine to the finest patterns, was burning all its remaining existence!

Golden flames engulfed the blade, scorching his palm, pouring out the last of his strength without reservation!

"Clang... Clang!"

The Ancestral Sword Spirit let out its final, clear, and sorrowful cry! At the crossguard, the cracked hexagonal ice crystal shattered with a bang!

It transformed into billions of points of pure, icy blue starlight, like tired birds returning to their nest, or moths flying into a flame, all merging into the sword body!

In an instant, the icy blue longsword became completely transparent, its cold light brilliant, as if it had returned to the moment of its peak when it guarded the first Sword Master—this was its swan song, exhausting its last bit of spirit!

At the same time, on Lu Changzhi's broken body, those gray-white light patterns symbolizing disintegration suddenly lit up!

It was not burning his Divine Soul—that had already burned out. Nor was it burning his life's Origin—that was about to dry up.

What he was burning was all the Karma and all the weight carried behind the three words "Lu Changzhi"!

It was the blood-stained robes and relieved smile of his Revered Master when he blocked a fatal blow for him eons ago.

It was the soaring, unyielding Sword Intent when Sword Mountain Disciples rushed forward one after another, staining the long steps with blood in countless Reincarnations.

It was the lingering resentment and wails deep within his Bloodline when billions of his kin were ruthlessly annihilated.

It was all the emotional anchors, all the fragments of memory, all the unfulfilled vows, and the bone-deep pain of everything he loved, hated, protected, and had to destroy!

All of this, at this moment, was turned into fuel, injected into that final sword strike about to be swung, a strike to end everything!

He slowly raised his arms.

Left hand, dragon-subduing imperial weapon, golden light burning the heavens, Dragon Soul roaring!

Right hand, Ancestral Sword Spirit, icy blue reflecting the world, cold light piercing the Universe!

Both swords locked onto Lord Jixing.

"Jixing."

He spoke, his voice hoarse and broken, like sandpaper rubbing against rusty iron, or like the overlapping whispers of countless lost Souls—traversing the eons, condensing into this final call.

"This strike—"

He paused, the gray-white halo trembling violently, as if trying to squeeze out the last bit of clarity.

"Is for my Revered Master."

The moment the words fell, time seemed to be infinitely stretched.

On Lord Jixing's face, the last trace of emotional fluctuation disappeared, leaving only the purest "nothingness."

He slowly raised his right fist, and all the dark golden light and Dao charm around him that devoured all things collapsed and condensed inward crazily!

Finally, it turned into a ball of indescribable, unobservable "black."

This was not the black of color, but the opposite of "existence," the absolute negation of "being," the ultimate nothingness that would swallow even the "concept" itself!

Lord Zangxing also let out a silent roar, struggling to raise the nearly solid dark red long spear.

On the spear, countless phantoms of worlds being born and dying, and civilizations being buried, flashed grimly—this was the final manifestation of the "annihilation" Dao, the final elegy dedicated to the end of all things.

The Void Realm froze.

And then—it moved!

Lu Changzhi swung his sword!

No Moves, no variations, only the purest, most determined slash!

The golden dragon flames that burned the world and the icy blue swan song of protection merged into one, turning into a gray, misty sword light that seemed like the opening of Chaos, yet clearly contained endless love, hate, and grievances!

Lord Jixing punched out!

This ball of ultimate "black" spread forward, and wherever it passed, color, sound, space, time... everything returned to "nothing"—as if to erase a gap in the very existence of the Universe!

Lord Zangxing thrust his spear!

The dark red long spear carried the sorrowful death-intent of burying eons, as if placing the final coffin lid on this ultimate duel!

Gold! Blue! Dark Gold! Black! Dark Red!

Five beams of light, representing different extremes and different ends, collided violently at the Origin of the Void Realm!

"Boom—————!!!"

No sound could describe the roar of this moment—or rather, the roar itself had been torn apart and swallowed in the instant of collision.

No light could depict the scene of this instant—because all colors, all light rays were completely crushed, mixed, and annihilated at the core of the collision.

There was not even the physical sensation of "collision"—because at that point, space, time, Karma, Law... all the foundations that made up "reality" were completely shattered and disintegrated like fragile glass!

In its place was a rapidly expanding, indescribable vortex of chaotic destruction!

Inside the vortex, five kinds of light were crazily strangling, devouring, annihilating, and being reborn!

It was as if billions of stars were born and died in an instant, and endless civilizations were glorious and perished in the blink of an eye!

At the core of the vortex, three blurred figures were still waving their final weapons—engaged in a final battle that transcended life, death, and meaning!

"Crack—!"

A crisp and sorrowful shattering sound—the mourning of the imperial weapon's dragon bone breaking.

"Puff—!"

A dull and determined bursting sound—the muffled sound of the nothingness Fist Intent being pierced by the sword light.

"Shhh—!"

A long, shrill tearing sound—the swan song of the annihilation Dao spear being shredded by the two swords.

And... one last sound, faint, slow, yet heavy as if striking against the barriers of eons of time—

"Thump..."

This was the beating of a heart. It was the last ember of life. It was the existence of "Lu Changzhi," before returning to eternal extinction, bidding a final farewell to this cruel and magnificent world.

Then—

All sound came to an abrupt halt.

All light returned to eternal darkness.

All movement fell into absolute stagnation.

Only that boundless, chaotic vortex that seemed to swallow the entire Universe slowly stopped expanding—and then, began to... silently collapse inward.