Chapter 127: Ascending Azure Mountain with an Unbowed Spine, Slaying Immortals to Stand Before the Emperor [Monthly Tickets, Please]

The surging river roared like purple lightning, its turbulent currents churning into a thousand mounds of snow.

Inside his military tent, Li You’an, dressed in a scholar’s robe, trimmed the lamp wick and gazed at his sword. Suddenly, his body shuddered and his brows knit together. In a mere instant, he vanished from the tent, appearing high in the vast sky. He stared toward the Shu region, his body surging with sword intent, radiating like the shimmering starlight.

In Li You’an’s perception, An Le’s presence… had vanished!

It was completely undetectable, as if it had been utterly erased from the mortal world.

"This is impossible!" Li You’an murmured.

An Le was in the Sword Pool Palace; it was impossible for him to die so abruptly. Even if he were to perish, the sword intent marker he had left on An Le should have allowed him to perceive the situation and rush to his aid. Yet now, An Le’s aura seemed to have evaporated into thin air in a heartbeat, and the sword intent anchor he had left behind had been instantly pulverized.

"An Le is at the Sword Pool Palace, and with that old Sword Saint there, even if the Yuanmeng Emperor himself arrived, it would be impossible to kill An Le without a sound..."

"He went to the Sword Pool Palace to forge the Green Mountain... could an accident have occurred during the forging process?"

Li You’an gradually calmed down, his brow furrowed as he contemplated the possibilities. "The Green Mountain sword holds a profound secret. If an accident occurred during the forging, perhaps... An Le truly made contact with the secret of the Green Mountain?"

Hearing this, Li You’an’s heart eased slightly. He held An Le in high regard, viewing him as a single spark of hope; both emotionally and logically, he did not wish for An Le to die.

"Forging the Green Mountain... only to have his mortal aura erased... It seems Zhao Huangting’s previous four attempts at forging the Green Mountain were all in vain." Li You’an chuckled softly.

Outside, beneath the tents, waves of energy surged as figures broke through the air. They were the elite of the army, clad in armor and exuding formidable power.

"General, what is it? Are the Xiliang father and son planning to cross the river again?" a soldier asked with concern.

Li You’an waved a hand. "I simply sensed something unexpected. Everyone, disperse. Stay alert; the Yuanmeng Empire is launching a campaign against Xiliang. At this juncture, Xiliang will certainly seek a way out, and crossing the river may be their choice. Do not take them lightly."

"Understood!" The powerful soldiers saluted and dispersed, turning into streaks of light as they returned to their respective camps.

Li You’an, however, beckoned to a figure in the crowd. Luo Qingchen, clad in armor, his once handsome face now etched with the weariness of time and a growing beard, looked significantly more resolute.

"General You’an." Luo Qingchen saluted respectfully.

"Not bad. Your performance in the army has been commendable. I heard that a small Xiliang force crossed the river, and you led the charge, wiping them out in a desperate battle. It seems you have emerged from the shadows of shattering your own Dao heart," Li You’an said, looking at the genius from Qingzhou who he had once broken ten years ago.

Luo Qingchen smiled. "It wasn't until I reached the battlefield that I realized how narrow my perspective once was. Here, there are countless geniuses. I discovered that my past self was nothing, and the pride I held due to minor achievements was laughable, especially since I locked myself away after a single defeat."

Li You’an’s face showed admiration. "The Canglang River battlefield is the best place to temper oneself. The prodigies of the Yuanmeng Empire, the Xiliang Kingdom, and the Dali Kingdom all clash here. Beyond them are the geniuses of the martial sects—the Daoists of Zhenwu Temple, the young Heavenly Master of the Celestial Masters Mansion, the Buddhist disciples... all are figures capable of shaping an era."

"Compete well with them. Build your spirit in battle, and the influence of your shattered Dao heart will gradually vanish. I hope to see the day you truly stand tall."

A smile and a look of determination appeared on Luo Qingchen’s weathered face. "I shall obey, General."

Li You’an smiled. "You must have heard of An Le’s deeds in Lin’an Prefecture, haven't you? He is already catching up to you... I remember you two had an agreement. That agreement should be fulfilled soon."

Luo Qingchen was stunned upon hearing this, a look of complexity flashing across his face. He was no stranger to that name. But how much time had passed? Had An Le already caught up to him? He was a master of the double Sixth Realm in both Body Tempering and Spirit Refining. Yet, there was no fear or retreat in Luo Qingchen's heart, only an irrepressible eagerness.

...

Outside Lin’an Prefecture, on the Sixth Mountain, where sword intent steamed into the air.

Mist swirled around the mountain, where the Master of the Sixth Mountain stood in a pavilion, arms crossed, watching the shifting clouds and rain with icy detachment. Suddenly, his eyebrows lifted slightly.

"An Le’s aura has vanished? Mo Chi didn't even react." The Sixth Mountain Master frowned. He took a step, and sword light swirled around him, wrapping him in a gust of wind that pierced the clouds like a meteor.

When he descended again, he was on the First Mountain.

Rain lashed against the thatched cottage on the mountain. Under the eaves, an old man sat before an incense burner, the incense sticks burning with wisps of smoke. Suddenly, the old man opened his eyes, looking sleepily at the Sixth Mountain Master.

"Sixth, it’s rare for you to visit the First Mountain. What brings you here?" the old man asked with a chuckle.

The Sixth Mountain Master stood upon his sword light and bowed. "An Le’s aura has vanished, as if he has died. I wish to ask the Senior Brother to cast a divination for him."

The First Mountain Master waved his wide sleeve, gesturing to the ground before him. The Sixth Mountain Master stepped out, his endless sword light receding as he sat down opposite the First Mountain Master. As they sat, the wind chimes hanging from the eaves of the cottage tinkled softly.

"Sixth, you truly care for this child."

"He has comprehended the future sword intent left by our Teacher; it is only right to care."

"No, your concern is an appreciation of his talent in the sword."

"Senior Brother, since you know, there is no need to speak useless words."

"Tsk, you are still as cold as ever."

Their conversation was simple. The old man smiled, took a piece of white paper, laid it flat on the ground, and plucked a pinch of ash from the incense burner, placing it on the paper.

Suddenly, an invisible surge of spiritual energy moved between heaven and earth. It swirled like a miniature tornado, causing the wind chimes to ring with increasing clarity. The old man’s expression shifted from ease to solemnity. Inside the hut, the very air of the First Mountain seemed to freeze.

Brilliant, ancient golden scriptures emerged from the mist of the First Mountain, swirling until they resembled an ancient bell enclosing the peak. The First Mountain Master’s eyes shone like molten gold, like two blazing suns.

A trace of imperceptible shock appeared on the Sixth Mountain Master’s cold face. He knew his Senior Brother’s capabilities well. To make him show such gravity... the situation An Le was in must be truly extraordinary.

A breeze swept the ash from the white paper. The First Mountain returned to peace, and the aura on the old man faded.

"The divination is complete." The old man looked drowsy, let out a large yawn, and handed the paper to the Sixth Mountain Master.

The Sixth Mountain Master took the paper, his eyes narrowing slightly. On the white paper, only a single character was written in incense ash:

"Win."

...

By the shore of the Sword Pool.

Sword intent turned into a gentle breeze, stirring ripples across the lake. Zhao Huangting’s brows were furrowed, but the anxiety caused by the disappearance of An Le’s aura began to dissipate. He had guessed what An Le might be encountering beneath the lake.

With the old Sword Saint there, An Le should not have died so suddenly. There could only be one explanation: his aura had been masked by the extraordinary phenomena of the Green Mountain’s forging. It had to be related to the forging; otherwise, the bottom of the lake would not be so quiet. The old Sword Saint would certainly not sit idly by.

"An Le should still be alive. Given the sword fate he displayed by ringing the Sword Bell thirty-six times, if he had died, the bell would not be this calm," Su Muzhe said, having grasped the situation. As the Palace Master of the Sword Pool, she was well-versed in the Bell’s reaction to those who shared a fate with it.

"Indeed, that is my thought as well," Wang Yansheng nodded.

Yet, despite their words, they were both filled with curiosity. What had happened to An Le at the bottom of the lake? How could his aura disappear entirely, as if... as if he had vanished from this world?

Zhao Huangting narrowed his eyes, a slight flush appearing on his aged face. Could it be that An Le had unearthed a secret about the Green Mountain that he himself had never discovered? Perhaps An Le’s exploration of the Green Mountain had already surpassed his own!

Zhao Huangting felt a wave of emotion. Truly, talent was a frustrating thing. The gap between people could sometimes be larger than one could imagine. He shook his head. Knowing that An Le was not dead, and perhaps even uncovering a greater opportunity, he felt a sudden sense of melancholy. He had known An Le’s potential for digging into the Green Mountain was greater than his own, but now that the day had come, he felt the gloom of a neglected spouse. He had spent five hundred years with the Green Mountain!

"New love brings smiles, while the old is left to cry," he thought bitterly.

Sword light swirled around Zhao Huangting as he soared into the sky, leaving the shore. "I am going to the Dali Kingdom to see an old friend," he declared to Su Muzhe, then streaked away as a beam of light.

...

An Le felt as if he had died, drifting in the void, as if reborn. Light gradually appeared before his eyes, forcing them open. The air was filled with a fresh, sweet fragrance. An Le sat up abruptly, touching his face—the sensation of real skin.

"I’m not dead?"

An Le frowned and looked at his waist; both Mo Chi and Ding Fengbo were gone, and he was still wearing his tattered green robe.

"Forging the Green Mountain... I remember my flesh being shredded, my bones ground into powder... and now I am revived here?"

"So, the pain I suffered was the price for entering this place?"

"Inside the Green Mountain?"

An Le looked up and saw a vast, cyan mountain rising from the earth, reaching endlessly into the clouds. He had seen this image many times in his meditations, but this time, it was no meditation. He had entered with his true body. It felt like a bizarre spatial teleportation—the shredding of flesh and bone felt like the pain caused by the warping of space-time.

"Space-time... is the interior of the Green Mountain another world?"

An Le felt it was absurd, but he suppressed the thought. The Green Mountain was still the familiar Green Mountain. Perhaps the act of forging it required him to step into it personally.

Without further hesitation, An Le took a deep breath and began to walk toward the mountain.

BOOM!

With every step, An Le felt a surge of explosive sword intent erupting from within his body, appearing from nowhere. An Le’s eyes narrowed—he recognized this intent. It was the same intent from the three top-grade swords—Chengying, Longyuan, and Yan Guichao—that had shredded his body!

Humming sounds filled the air. As the sword intents intertwined, they formed the faint outlines of three swords around him, as if they had crossed space and time to appear here. An Le’s mind flickered, and he easily took control of these three streams of intent.

Anomalies always signaled something deeper. Top-grade swords possessed spirits; their appearance here meant the forging of the Green Mountain was still ongoing.

"Walk toward the Green Mountain, cut through the mist, and ascend?" An Le murmured. Perhaps forging the Green Mountain meant cutting away the fog to see its true face.

His pace quickened. He felt himself drawing closer to the mist-shrouded mountain. Suddenly, at the very peak of the unreachable mountain, a blurred figure sat, looking down at him. A single glance from that figure filled An Le with immense pressure.

The figure stepped down and landed at the foot of the mountain, looking at An Le levelly through the layers of mist. A terrifying pressure, as if the entire firmament were collapsing upon him, descended!

The mist surged, forming a giant sword that hung above An Le’s head. An Le stared at the sword, then at the figure in the mist. Without hesitation, he took a step forward.

The moment he stepped, the floating sword descended a fraction.

BOOM!

A horrific pressure, like the gravity of the earth suddenly increasing, slammed into him, almost forcing him to his knees!

Humming!

The sword intents of Chengying, Longyuan, and Yan Guichao flared, wanting to deflect the pressure. An Le gritted his teeth, refusing to use the sword intent. He walked forward step by step, the pressure mounting. It felt as if a supreme being sat upon a throne, staring at him coldly, and with a single look, commanded the sword to strike.

The giant sword formed of mist slowly descended. Everything around him collapsed, shattered by the sword intent!

After countless steps, blood spilled from An Le’s nose and mouth. He felt as if the world was humming, as if everything was vanishing. Just as his consciousness was about to be extinguished, a loud, clear cry from Yan Guichao woke him. The sword shadow of Yan Guichao roared out, slamming into the descending giant sword of mist!

The sword intents intertwined, propping up the giant sword, preventing it from falling. But it was clear that the intent of Yan Guichao was dissolving against the giant sword. An Le took a deep breath and used this opportunity to push forward, ignoring the pressure.

BANG!

With a mournful sound, the intent of Yan Guichao dissipated. The giant sword began to fall again. The terrifying pressure returned, a grueling test of An Le’s will.

The descending giant sword sought not just to crush his body, but to force his spirit and soul to submit! It was like a high-and-mighty immortal looking down upon an ant. An Le knew he could not kneel. To kneel meant not only the failure of the Green Mountain’s forging but also that he would become a puppet to the blurry figure on the mountain!

Gritting his teeth, veins bulged across his body. Ancient scriptures appeared, clinging to his skin. Chengying sword let out a soft whistle, and countless sword intents sprouted, swarming toward the giant sword to prop it up. An Le took the chance to move forward, his footsteps cracking the ground. But Chengying’s intent did not last long either.

An Le did not stop. The final sword shadow, Seven-Star Longyuan, let out a dragon’s roar, spraying sword intent like a thousand dragons to crash into the giant sword. The intents of the three swords clashed against the immortal’s blade falling from the heavens!

Amidst the exploding sparks of sword intent, An Le walked forward, his body covered in golden scriptures. He could not abandon this chance created by the three top-grade swords!

The figure behind the Green Mountain seemed to grow cold. Though the giant sword had been worn down by the three swords, it still descended with immense pressure. Without Yan Guichao, Chengying, or Longyuan to protect him, An Le was like a prisoner waiting for the blade to fall.

He felt as if his feet were stuck in a mire, the pressure so heavy it threatened to force him to his knees. It reminded him of when Luo Qingchen had looked down at him in the carriage when he had just begun his cultivation journey. The figure in the mist was just like Luo Qingchen—a superior looking down on an inferior, trampling them and expecting their submission as a matter of course.

His spine groaned under the weight. He straightened his back, standing tall like a proud bamboo. He looked up at the blade, a sneer curling his lips. If the Green Mountain required his submission, then he would rather not possess it. But he would tear through the mist to prove that he could do it.

Whoever the figure behind the mountain was—even if it were a high-and-mighty immortal—what of it? He, An Le, was fearless!

He would ascend the Green Mountain with nothing but his pride!

The Dao Fruit [Fearless Heart] trembled violently! The exhausted [Heroic Spirit] Dao Fruit also pulsed.

He raised his hand!

An Le pressed his finger to his brow, and his brow split open. The Sword Furnace chimed, his soul leapt out, carrying the embryo of his Heart Sword, and slammed into the descending giant sword!

Without the three top-grade swords, he still had his own Heart Sword! The Heart Sword reflected An Le’s state of mind; at this moment, his unbending pride acted as the final heavy hammer strike on the maturing embryo.

It underwent a transformation! Seven-colored light erupted! The Heart Sword was forged, clashing with the giant sword! As it shattered inch by inch, An Le cared not.

Golden light radiating from his body, An Le took a heavy step and crashed into the thick mist at the foot of the mountain. He thrust his hands into the mist and tore them apart!

RUMBLE!

The mist that shrouded the Green Mountain was torn asunder! An Le saw the figure sitting at the foot of the mountain—a being wrapped in white, immortal aura, looking down with cold, supreme eyes.

Seeing that figure, An Le understood. An Immortal! A true Immortal!

Inside the Green Mountain, there sat an Immortal!

The Immortal looked at An Le with indifference, then slowly stood up. Amidst the brilliant霞 light, immortal music, and the cries of flying cranes, the Immortal walked toward him. The Immortal raised a hand, as if to touch his head. An Le’s eyes grew hazy; he felt an urge to kneel, to let this Immortal touch his head and grant him eternal life.

Though the Immortal’s eyes held disdain, there was also a hint of excitement, a madness of one about to break free from a cage.

However, just as the Immortal’s hand was about to touch his head, An Le’s eyes suddenly cleared, filled with disdain.

He flicked his finger.

"Sword intent of all things in heaven and earth, approach!"

"Future Sword Intent!"

An invisible sword intent suddenly manifested—the third strand of intent he had gleaned from the cliffside, the remnants of the Saint Master. It took the form of a long sword in An Le’s hand.

He swung the sword, striking at the Immortal!

So what if you are an Immortal? You wish to corrupt my will, make me submit, steal my body?

What is the use of such an Immortal but to be cut down?!

The sword sliced through the Immortal’s head! The Immortal’s face showed unwillingness, anger, and despair... and finally, it vanished into smoke!

Suddenly, the entire Green Mountain shook. The mist An Le had torn apart dissipated entirely, as if he had wiped a drop of dirty immortal blood from the Green Mountain sword.

Heaven and earth shuddered; the clouds cleared. On the lush Green Mountain, gentle sword intent blew like a soft breeze, fluttering An Le’s robes. All pressure vanished.

An Le looked down at his waist. A bamboo sword hung there, as if it had always been there. But that was not what caught his attention. At the foot of the mountain stood a stone statue of an Emperor in black robes, hands behind his back, a faint smile on his lips, stepping upon the bones of countless Immortals, surveying the vast world that belonged to him.

Even after ten thousand years, the Green Mountain remained, and its sword intent endured.