Despite the strained relationship between Zhang Ruochen and the Court, he had to acknowledge that since the Kunlun Realm became a merit battlefield, the Court had played a significant role in maintaining relative stability across the five domains.
However, as the Inferno Realm’s assaults grew fiercer, the Court’s forces were stretched thin, barely able to hold on. The critical issue was the severe lack of top-tier cultivators. Even with the formidable Drip Blood Sword, it was impossible to sweep through the Inferno Realm’s ten clans.
A flurry of thoughts raced through Zhang Ruochen’s mind. He said, “You arrived too late. An incomplete divine array has awakened, resealing True Dragon Island. No one can enter or leave now.”
At this, both Nalan Danqing and Slaughter King’s expressions changed. They had come for the Key to the World Gate, only to find they couldn’t even set foot on the island.
Now they understood why Zhang Ruochen was here, not on True Dragon Island.
“Any news of the Key to the World Gate?” Slaughter King asked.
Zhang Ruochen pondered briefly. “The Key to the World Gate is extremely mysterious. It’s likely no one can find it, or the Spirit of the World would already be in peril.”
Though the short, thin elder transformed from the key was in their hands, Zhang Ruochen had no intention of handing it over to the Court.
There were many reasons, primarily two: first, he and the Court were not allies, so he had no obligation to surrender the key; second, the Court’s weakened state made it incapable of safeguarding it.
The Key to the World Gate, born from the Kunlun Realm’s origin, could not be taken out of the realm. Otherwise, entrusting it to the forbidden figure in the Yin-Yang Sea would have been the safest option.
“In that case, I should return to the Southern Domain,” Slaughter King said urgently.
Without delay, he soared into the air, transforming into a streak of blood-red light, vanishing instantly.
As Slaughter King departed, Zhang Ruochen moved, appearing on the small boat, standing face-to-face with Nalan Danqing.
Their eyes met, and Zhang Ruochen noticed a trace of exhaustion in her gaze, stirring his heart.
“Are you alright?”
Both Zhang Ruochen and Nalan Danqing spoke simultaneously, echoing the same words.
Zhang Ruochen smiled faintly, speaking lightly, “I’m doing fine, wandering about, seeing all sorts of sights.”
He glossed over the killings and bloodshed, unwilling to dwell on them.
It had been a long time since he last saw Nalan Danqing. Though she had appeared at Peacock Manor as one of the Nine Heavens Mysterious Maidens, they hadn’t had a chance to speak properly.
“You’ve killed too many powerful foes. The Inferno and Celestial Realms won’t let it go easily. Be careful,” Nalan Danqing warned earnestly.
She knew Zhang Ruochen was now immensely strong, among the top below the Great Saint realm, but open attacks were easier to dodge than hidden ones. Any carelessness could be fatal.
Zhang Ruochen replied, “Many want my life, yet I’m still standing. Thanks to this external pressure, my strength has grown so quickly. Don’t worry, my life is tough—no one can take it.”
“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” Nalan Danqing murmured, a flicker of sadness in her eyes.
Sensing her emotional shift, Zhang Ruochen felt a pang of unease. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
“I’m fine. The Court has many matters I must attend to. I can’t stay long. Take care,” Nalan Danqing said, her gaze wavering, avoiding his eyes.
Her response deepened Zhang Ruochen’s suspicions. Staring intently at her, he said, “Tell me, what’s happened? If it’s within my power, I’ll help you.”
He wanted no ties with the Court, but when it came to Nalan Danqing, he couldn’t stand idly by.
Nalan Danqing slowly sat on the boat, hugging her knees, her teeth biting her lip, faint mist in her eyes, as if she had suffered great grievance.
Zhang Ruochen’s heart trembled. Since meeting her, he had never seen her so vulnerable.
Even when trapped in the first gradient of the Endless Abyss, she had remained resolute, never this fragile.
As he was about to press further, Nalan Danqing whispered, “Senior Paint Saint… he’s passed away…”
Zhang Ruochen froze, then showed disbelief, thinking he had misheard.
Chu Siyuan, who had cultivated for centuries, had reached the Saint realm’s peak before the Kunlun Realm’s revival, becoming a Confucian patriarch with immense foundations.
In the Ancestral Spirit Realm’s merit battlefield, he broke through to become a mental power Saint King, growing ever stronger, one of Confucian’s top figures.
With the Confucian treasure, the Seven Lives Seven Deaths Chart, he should have been able to escape even unbeatable foes.
Zhang Ruochen struggled to believe Chu Siyuan was dead.
“When did this happen?” he asked gravely.
Nalan Danqing’s eyes dimmed. “Three days ago.”
“With Senior Chu’s cunning and strength, who could kill him?” Zhang Ruochen pressed.
Nalan Danqing lowered her head further, her eyes welling up. “It was the Rakshasa Clan’s Great Prince Moro.”
Zhang Ruochen frowned. He hadn’t expected a Rakshasa Clan powerhouse, as their main battlefield was the Southern Domain, not the Central Domain.
The Central Domain also had a merit battlefield, dominated by the Immortal Blood Clan.
In the Rakshasa Clan, those reaching the Path’s Domain realm could be titled princes, with great princes above them, holding even higher status.
Great princes were at least at the third tier below the Great Saint realm, often renowned in both the Celestial and Inferno Realms.
Even against a Rakshasa great prince, Chu Siyuan, with the Seven Lives Seven Deaths Chart, should have had a chance to escape. Why had he provoked the Rakshasa Clan?
“Not just Senior Paint Saint. The entire Paint Sect has been annihilated by Great Prince Moro’s army,” Nalan Danqing said, sobbing softly.
She had sought teachings from the four Confucian sects, with the Paint Sect akin to her school and Chu Siyuan her teacher. Their loss was devastating.
Zhang Ruochen was shaken, realizing it wasn’t Chu Siyuan provoking the Rakshasa Clan but the clan targeting the Paint Sect.
“Why did the Rakshasa Clan destroy the Paint Sect?” he asked gravely.
“Because the Paint Sect still held the last Sacred Path Ancient Tea Tree, planted by the Confucian Patriarch, a spiritual symbol of Confucianism. It’s a treasure even gods of the Inferno Realm covet, aiding their comprehension of supreme divine paths,” Nalan Danqing explained.
Confucianism and the Court were deeply intertwined, their fates linked.
Millennia ago, the four Confucian Patriarchs each planted a Sacred Path Ancient Tea Tree. In the medieval catastrophe, three were destroyed, leaving only the Paint Sect’s.
For Confucianism, the tree held immense significance, akin to the Patriarch’s presence, revered by all disciples.
A Rakshasa army had infiltrated the Central Domain, attacking the Paint Sect unexpectedly, catching Confucianism and the Court off guard, unable to intervene in time.
With Chu Siyuan dead, the tree had likely fallen into Rakshasa hands.
“Led by Great Prince Moro, the Rakshasa Clan deployed thousands of dukes and over a hundred princes. Despite the Paint Sect’s tens of thousands of disciples fighting to the death, most were too weak to resist.
“Senior Paint Saint could have escaped but chose to die with the sect, guarding the Sacred Path Ancient Tea Tree, planted by the Patriarch, embodying Confucianism’s spirit, never to fall into Inferno hands.”
“Senior Luo Xu, upon hearing the news, tried to help but was gravely wounded by Great Prince Moro before reaching the sect, then pursued by Rakshasa forces, his fate unknown.”
“In a short time, the Paint Sect became a hellscape. The Rakshasa army left only bones in their wake. Senior Paint Saint fought bloodily but was powerless, captured by Great Prince Moro, hung by the neck on the Sacred Path Ancient Tea Tree. With a demonic blade, Moro sliced off his flesh piece by piece, eating it before him, leaving only bones swaying in the wind.”
As Nalan Danqing spoke, she broke into loud sobs, tears streaming down, her emotions unraveling at the brutal death of such a revered figure.
Zhang Ruochen’s heart was struck, a suffocating sensation overwhelming him. His fists clenched, knuckles cracking, cold killing intent surging in his eyes.
Killing was one thing, but for Great Prince Moro to slice and eat Chu Siyuan’s flesh before him was unimaginably cruel.
Chu Siyuan must have endured unbearable pain before dying.
Zhang Ruochen held deep memories of Chu Siyuan. Their first meeting was when he fled with an injured Ling Feiyu, pursued by evil path saints.
When the Immortal Blood Clan’s Qi Tian tribe invaded with a hundred thousand troops, Chu Siyuan painted a single picture, annihilating them, a stunning feat.
Later, using the Seven Lives Seven Deaths Chart, Chu Siyuan restored Ling Feiyu’s will, sparking a unique bond between them.
In Zhang Ruochen’s mind, Chu Siyuan was stubborn yet righteous, hating evil with unyielding integrity.
He recalled Chu Siyuan guiding him to Saint Ming City, urging him not to stray.
During the Blood God Sect’s crisis, Chu Siyuan set aside prejudice, standing against the sect leader’s wife, fighting despite his lesser strength.
Now, he had died defending the Paint Sect and the Sacred Path Ancient Tea Tree, embodying Confucianism’s noble spirit.
Imagining the elder eaten, reduced to bones, the Paint Sect razed to ash, Zhang Ruochen stood dazed, his eyes unknowingly welling up.
War was merciless. Perhaps one day, his loved ones and familiar friends would all perish.
Who would be next?
