542: Chapter 542 A Scheme Scheming Through the Ages, Calculating Every Secret

Sword Ruthless did not move.

He stood in place, his gray eyes fixed intently on that Divine Phoenix manifestation; something was churning deep within the cracks—not fear.

Not shock.

It was memory.

Eons ago, he had seen a Divine Phoenix.

Not a distant gaze across the lingering shadows of time like this, but up close, with flames scorching his face.

In that final battle, the progenitor of the Divine Phoenix lineage spread its wings, covering the sky and sun, every feather burning with flames that could consume the heavens.

It let out a long cry that cracked the universe, using the Nirvana fire to burn away the Void Clan—for the Sword Master, for all of them, it forcefully carved out a path of survival paved with blood and ash.

And then, the Divine Phoenix lineage was extinguished.

Completely.

They perished together with the Void Clan, not a single feather remaining.

He watched with his own eyes as that Divine Phoenix turned to ash in flames of extreme brilliance, watched as the Divine Phoenix Life Wheel, symbol of immortality, shattered bit by bit like falling glass, and watched as that incomparably magnificent Phoenix garment, which had once illuminated countless worlds, was swallowed and annihilated, bit by bit, by the writhing Void Clan.

He had thought that long cry, which pierced through the ages, was the final swan song of the Divine Phoenix lineage.

The tragic and eternal final movement of a great Bloodline.

But now.

The Divine Phoenix manifestation stood right before him.

Its feathers shimmered with real golden light, its flames spewed scorching heat, and its Divine Phoenix Life Wheel rotated with the weight of eons—it was alive.

Sword Ruthless's lips trembled.

His lips, parched for eons, tried to open, but only a faint breath of sound escaped.

The cracks in his gray eyes suddenly deepened—not an uncontrolled shattering, but an emotion that had been frozen, suppressed, and forgotten for eons, now frantically crashing against the icy layers of the Seal, roaring to surge out.

"...Impossible."

His voice sounded like two rusty ancient swords slowly grinding against coarse rock.

Harsh, dry.

Yet it carried a trembling, unprecedented in eons, that even he himself had not noticed.

The remnant souls of the one hundred and seven Sword Masters—this collective consciousness condensed from obsession and memory—were instantly submerged by an even more surging "tide."

The discussions were no longer whispers but transformed into a torrential flood of thoughts, colliding fiercely in this deathly silent Void Realm:

"Has the Divine Phoenix Bloodline not been extinguished?! It is an eternal conclusion!"

"Absolutely impossible! In that final battle, the Divine Phoenix progenitor burned its Origin, and the source of its Bloodline was polluted and severed by the Void Clan—this was a demise personally confirmed by the Eternal God Lord!"

"But this aura... this Divine Phoenix Life Wheel! This Nirvana fire and Divine Phoenix Tribulation Flame! They cannot be faked! This is a living Divine Phoenix!"

"A remnant line? Could it be that in some corner of the ancient Seal, a Divine Phoenix egg survived and has remained dormant until now?"

"Absurd! The ancient space-time was shattered; where could an egg be hidden? Where could it undergo Nirvana?"

"Then what exactly is this?! Is it an illusion before our collective extinction, or... a trick of the Void Clan reappearing?!"

The discussions ceased abruptly.

It was as if an invisible hand had suddenly throttled their throats.

Because Lu Changzhi had moved.

This Sword Master, this remnant soul that had once commanded ten thousand swords and stood at the absolute peak—slowly descended from the highest point of the Void Realm, the position symbolizing the final watch and ultimate solitude.

His form was still illusory, but his gray-white hair seemed to be blown by an invisible wind, fluttering in the reflection of the Divine Phoenix flames.

The Nirvana fire and Divine Phoenix Tribulation Flame's golden light scorched his already broken soul body, emitting faint "hissing" sounds—this was the mournful cry of soul matter being steamed by the power of extreme Yang.

But he was completely unaware.

In his eyes, only one thing was reflected.

Despair.

This was a kind of despair that had settled for eons, heavy enough to crush space-time.

Eons of planning, calculating the heavens; eons of waiting, guarding in desolate silence; eons of sealing, bearing everything.

He had thought his heart had long since turned to cold ash, that he had seen through the cycles of eras, grown accustomed to the illusions of life and death, and that nothing could cast ripples in his dead, silent heart.

But now.

He saw it.

Not that glorious, dazzling, and awe-inspiring Divine Phoenix manifestation.

His gaze pierced through the resplendent feathers, pierced through the burning Divine Phoenix Life Wheel, pierced through the surging Bloodline Power—like the most precise Sword Intent—straight to the depths of Jian Tanghuang's Dantian.

There, was a leaf.

A jade-gold leaf.

Very small.

Very quiet.

Hidden in the innermost corner of her Dantian, carefully wrapped and protected by layers of warm and domineering golden Nirvana fire.

If one did not concentrate all their Divine Soul to look closely, it would be impossible to notice.

But the aura flowing on this leaf—Lu Changzhi was too familiar with it.

So familiar that a single glimmer of light could drag him back to that blood-stained dusk, the moment he knelt in the ruins, holding a child whose body temperature was gradually fading in his arms.

Eons ago, he had trembling hands as he planted a leaf, also jade-gold and radiating an infinite halo of vitality, deep into the child's almost severed heart pulse.

That was—the Leaf of Life.

It was not a divine medicine, nor a holy fruit, but the core Origin of the Primordial Life God Tree!

It is hard to produce one in eons, containing the most primitive and majestic power of creation from when the world first opened!

It could bring the dead back to life, reverse fragments of Reincarnation, and allow a person destined to die to tightly grasp that last trace of breath in the abyss of despair—never ending, never extinguished!

Back then, he planted that leaf into Jian Tanghuang's body, solely to protect the last glimmer of her heart pulse when her extremely dangerous and precarious Divine Phoenix Bloodline underwent Awakening, preventing it from being burned into nothingness from within by the violent Nirvana fire.

After the ritual was completed, the leaf's luster dimmed.

He thought that the leaf had long since exhausted all its power over the long ages, quietly becoming a part of her life Foundation—or had already dissipated.

But now—this leaf was still there.

Not only was it still there, but it was jade-gold—as perfect as before!

Even more brilliant and full than when he had planted it eons ago!

The light of vitality flowing in the leaf veins surged as deep as a galaxy!

Because it... it was actually absorbing!

Absorbing the majestic vitality naturally accumulated within Jian Tanghuang over eons, which had nowhere else to go!

From a protective "seed," it had quietly grown, through the silent nourishment of eons, into a true, independent—Leaf of Life—that could stand on its own and contained independent Laws of life!

Lu Changzhi's pupils contracted sharply.

It was as if his entire remnant soul had been fiercely pierced and gripped by that jade-gold light.

He stared at that leaf, for a long time.

So long that the surrounding surging flames and roaring Divine Phoenix Life Wheel became a blurred background.

Time, in his dead and silent perception, was stretched and distorted.

Then.

He lifted his head, extremely slowly.

His gaze swept past the Divine Phoenix manifestation, past the stunned Sword Ruthless, and turned toward the one hundred and seven remnant souls of the Sword Masters who were also looking at him.

The despair in his eyes did not disappear; instead, it became even heavier.

As heavy as an eternal night that could not be dispelled.

But—deep within that profound despair, which was enough to swallow everything, something... lit up.

Not hope.

Hope was too pale, too fragile to bear the weight of eons.

This thing, more intense, crazier, and more reckless than hope—was a spark that suddenly burst from the ashes of death!

It was the determination to turn around fiercely at the edge of the cliff of despair!

It was the magma inside a volcano that had been silent for eons, beginning to surge, roar, and about to erupt regardless of everything when it saw the only passage!

A decision.

A decision he dared not make eons ago because he bore too much, had no opportunity to make during the eons of extinction, but now had to make, and must make.

"Everyone."

His voice was not loud, even a bit hoarse.

But in this deathly silent Void Realm, it was as clear as a thunderclap exploding in the "ears" of every remnant soul.

Because his voice was trembling.

Not from weakness, not from fear, but a kind of—trembling suppressed to the extreme, which instead presented a strange calmness.

Like a string stretched to its limit, about to snap, emitting its final hum.

Lu Changzhi—Sword Master—the supreme existence who had commanded The Sword Lineage eons ago and once made the heavens bow—his voice was actually trembling.

All discussions, all suspicions, all fluctuations of thought, at this moment, stopped completely.

The one hundred and seven Sword Masters, regardless of their previous postures, had their remnant souls frozen, and the gaze of all their thoughts focused squarely on him.

Wanyan Shu's golden pupils contracted sharply, the brilliant golden light fluctuating violently: "Sword Master?"

The light in the cracks of Sword Ruthless's gray eyes grew intense, his soul body leaning forward slightly: "Sword Master?!"

Lu Changzhi did not look at them.

His gaze seemed to be welded onto that jade-gold leaf inside Jian Tanghuang's body.

Deep within his gray-white pupils, that tiny yet incredibly tenacious jade-gold light was reflected—like a drowning person who had been floating in a boundless black sea for eons, finally, finally seeing the last piece of driftwood... that might be able to bear everything.

"This leaf."

He raised his hand.

His illusory fingers, carrying the vicissitudes of eons and a trace of indescribable urgency, pointed steadily at Jian Tanghuang, pointing at that speck of jade-gold in her Dantian.

The thoughts of the one hundred and seven Sword Masters instantly followed the direction he pointed, piercing through all obstacles—and focused there.