39: Chapter 39 Father and Son Discuss Swordsmanship, A Sage is Approaching

A resonance lasting the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

To a Mortal, it was merely tasting a cup of tea or playing a game of chess.

To Li Xuan, however, it was a cycle of the Universe's birth and destruction.

He withdrew from the state of being an "Incarnation of the Sword Origin."

Li Changsheng, in his arms, was holding the void divine iron and sleeping soundly, with drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Having comprehended the ultimate Profound Truth of the Grass-Character Sword Manual and destroyed a meteorite from beyond the heavens ninety thousand li away with a single finger, Li Xuan was in an excellent mood.

Looking at this convenient son of his, the more he looked, the more he liked him.

"Others rely on their fathers, but I, on the other hand, have directly started 'relying on my son' mode."

Li Xuan complained inwardly.

"As expected of my, Li Xuan's, seed; just so impressive."

"Let's go, my little lucky star, back to the palace to drink milk!"

He picked up Li Changsheng and, pulling the still-dazed Su Muxue beside him, strolled leisurely back to Zhaoyang Hall.

Along the way, Su Muxue's Physique continued to function steadily.

From a cluster of wildflowers by the roadside, a startled spiritual rabbit dashed out, and in its panic, it actually dug up a thousand-year-old fleeceflower root hidden in a burrow.

The fleeceflower root happened to roll to Su Muxue's feet.

A celestial crane flew overhead and slipped.

A Dragon Blood Fruit, brought from who knows where, exuding Dragon Qi, fell precisely into Su Muxue's arms.

The palace maids and eunuchs responsible for picking up the treasures behind them had gradually gotten used to it.

They now only hated that they didn't have more hands.

This newly arrived Imperial Consort was even more exaggerated than the God of Wealth descending to the Mortal world.

…Back at Zhaoyang Hall.

Li Xuan placed the sleeping Li Changsheng onto the dragon bed.

The little guy smacked his lips, still struggling with that piece of void divine iron in his dream.

Li Xuan looked at his sleeping face and felt a sense of accomplishment.

"You are named Li Changsheng, born with a Sword Physique. Your father is named Li Xuan, who has just learned how to use a sword."

Li Xuan smiled, sat cross-legged by the bed, and savored the Divine-Grade Sword Dao insights he had just experienced.

He extended a finger.

On the tip of his finger, there was no Sword Qi, no divine light, nothing at all.

But in his Divine Thought, this single point was where the edge of the Universe resided.

This point could open the heavens, split the earth, sever stars, and break Reincarnation.

"Proving the Dao through strength is ultimately inferior. Proving the Dao through principles is the only way to eternity."

Li Xuan whispered to himself.

At this moment, little Li Changsheng, in his dream, sensed the same source of aura from his father.

His eyes were tightly closed, but his small body turned over unconsciously.

His chubby little hand also imitated Li Xuan, extending an index finger.

Gently tapping towards the air.

Hum!

A miraculous thing happened.

The invisible supreme Sword Intent at Li Xuan's fingertip and the unconscious Origin Sword Qi at Li Changsheng's fingertip met quietly in mid-air.

One had reached the pinnacle of the Dao through Acquired comprehension.

The other, not understanding any principles, was the Incarnation of the Dao itself.

The two Sword Intents, of the same source but different paths, like two swimming fish, one yin and one yang, intertwined the moment they met.

There was no earth-shattering explosion.

No world-destroying fluctuations.

Invisible ripples spread through the space inside Zhaoyang Hall.

Time and space were distorted.

Inside the hall, it was clearly still the same hall.

But if a third person were here, they would see a strange sight.

The dragon-coiled golden pillars supporting the hall's roof lost the concept of length; one moment they were infinitely stretched, shooting into the sky, and the next they were infinitely compressed into specks of dust.

The white jade floor tiles had their patterns evolve into a chessboard; on each square, stars were born and worlds were destroyed.

The sunlight streaming in from outside the window was decomposed into a seven-colored spectrum, and in each spectrum flowed the passage of time—past, present, and future.

At the center of all these visions sat the father in a cross-legged position with the sleeping infant.

The father and son's fingertips were pointed towards each other from a distance.

Between those fingers, a Sword Domain evolved.

Inside the Domain, a blade of green grass grew quietly.

It sometimes turned into a divine light that opened the heavens and earth, and sometimes into the final nirvana that ended the cycles of eternity.

One birth, one destruction; one withering, one flourishing.

It contained the most fundamental Sword Dao truth of the Universe.

Li Changsheng, in his dream, felt this game was very fun and couldn't help but let out a "giggle."

Li Xuan, with his eyes closed, had his Divine Soul completely immersed in this unique Sword Domain created by the joint effort of father and son, and his understanding of the Grass-Character Sword Manual advanced further.

…Deep within the imperial palace, in a damp dungeon.

The Ziyang Saint was chained to the wall by a mysterious iron chain piercing through his shoulder blades, his breath weak.

His cultivation had been crippled, his Dantian destroyed, and he couldn't even move a finger.

This Saint, who had once looked down upon the Mortal world, was now in a plight worse than the rats in the dungeon.

For these past few days, his heart had been filled with resentment and regret.

He hated!

He hated that devil-like Retired Emperor!

He regretted!

He regretted being so impulsive and provoking this god of plague!

He constantly cursed Li Xuan and the entire Great Xia Dynasty, hoping that his Sect would discover the incident here and send stronger forces to avenge him!

Just then.

An extremely weak fluctuation swept over from outside the dungeon.

This fluctuation was extremely subtle; even the Divine Treasury Realm commander of the Imperial Guards guarding the dungeon did not notice it at all.

But for the Ziyang Saint, whose Divine Soul essence was extremely high, this fluctuation was like the beginning of heaven and earth, exploding in his Divine Soul.

He was stunned.

The resentment and madness on his face froze instantly.

Replaced by blankness.

He was first blank, then his heart was filled with fear.

He "saw" it!

He saw nothing, but his Divine Soul, his Dao Heart, and his instincts all "saw" a scene of despair.

It was a blade of grass!

An ordinary blade of green grass!

The leaf of that blade of grass swayed gently.

The first sway.

He "saw" his Ziyang Holy Land, of which he was so proud—the fairy mountains stretching for unknown tens of thousands of li, the countless divine palaces and treasure halls floating in the sky—all turned to ashes in that instant.

The second sway.

He "saw" inside his Sect, from Outer Sect Disciples to Inner Sect Prodigies, from deacon Elders to Grand Elders, hundreds of millions of Cultivators, all at the same time, had their life force stripped away, their Divine Souls erased, turning into dried corpses.

The third sway.

He "saw" it.

He saw the figure sitting cross-legged on the peak of the active volcano in Ziyang Holy Land.

That was their Ziyang Holy Land's Saint Old Ancestor, who had lived for nearly ten thousand years and had already attained the Dao and become a Saint!

But under the sway of that blade of grass, his Saint Old Ancestor showed a look of terror in his eyes!

The Saint Old Ancestor was wailing, begging for mercy.

But that blade of grass only gently brushed past his neck.

Saint's blood splashed up.

Each drop of blood crushed a piece of Void Realm and annihilated a Star Domain.

But what of it?

The Saint Old Ancestor's head flew up.

His immortal Saint soul instantly dissolved under the edge of that blade of grass.

Dead.

A true Saint had died just like that.

Died so easily, so casually.

"Ah—!!!"

The Ziyang Saint let out a shrill scream!

He was insane!

He was completely insane!

That terrifying vision, which had evolved in his mind simply because a trace of Sword Intent had leaked, had completely destroyed his reason, pride, and hope.

What Holy Land!

What Saint!

In front of that absolute power, they were all vulnerable!

No, they couldn't even be counted as ants.

They could only be counted as dust!

He was actually scared to the point of incontinence, filth flowing down his trouser legs, smelling terrible.

"Devil! It's a devil!"

The Ziyang Saint struggled desperately, the chains on his body rattling, and his heart jolted.

He looked outside the dungeon, at the palace that seemed to come from another world, as if he saw a terrifying abyss.

"Fake! Everything is fake!"

He roared and cried out crazily:

"The Old Ancestor will not die! Our Ziyang Holy Land is eternal and immortal!"

"Right! The Old Ancestor! The Old Ancestor has already awakened! He already knows the news here!"

He seemed to have grasped the last hope and laughed hysterically, his laughter shrill.

"He is coming! He is already on his way!"

"Our Ziyang Holy Land's Saint Old Ancestor, carrying the Sect-protecting Imperial Weapon, the Luck-Severing Sword, is already on the way!"

"You are all dead! Everyone of you is dead! This so-called Dynasty, this filthy land, everything will be completely erased under the Saint's fury and the Imperial Weapon's Divine Might!"

"Hahahaha! You are all going to die! You are all going to be buried with me!"

The frantic roaring and screaming echoed continuously in the dungeon, alarming all the guards.

Soon, a report about the madman's ravings was submitted layer by layer and sent to Zhaoyang Hall.

At this time, the visions inside the hall had long since dispersed.

Li Xuan smiled contentedly and withdrew from that state.

And Li Changsheng, seemingly "over-exercised," slept even more soundly.

A commander of the Imperial Guards reported everything that happened in the dungeon to him outside the hall.

After listening, Li Xuan put away his smile.

His gaze pierced through the palace walls and saw the Ziyang Saint roaring crazily in the dark dungeon.

"Saint Old Ancestor?"

"Imperial Weapon, Luck-Severing Sword?"

Li Xuan's expression was grave.

He stood up and walked to the window, looking up at the sky, where the clouds, at some unknown point, faintly revealed a murderous blood-red color.

"Interesting."

He whispered to himself, then smiled slightly.

Others feared Saints.

But he, this newly ascended Human Emperor, within the territory of the Great Xia Divine Dynasty, was least afraid of these so-called Saints.

"I just don't know, how much fuel can a true Saint, plus an Imperial Weapon, contribute to my Luck Altar?"