From Xunyang City to the Myriad Willows Garden, Zhu Luo had suffered two consecutive blows. He was no longer at his peak, but when he attacked, he was still that expert of the Divine Domain, accompanied by wind and rain.
Tonight's torrential rain had continued for a very long time. Even now, there was still a lot of water flowing down from the mausoleum. As this rainwater flowed into the shallow white canals, the water in the canals gradually became muddy.
Suddenly, the murky water in the canals became pure white, like shards of snow.
It was not because it had been purified, but because it refracted light.
An incomparably bright and pure light appeared beneath the Mausoleum of Books.
This light came from the sword in Zhu Luo's hand.
Soon after, a pure white ball of light appeared in the scattered clouds and starry night sky. Everyone knew that it was fake, but it also seemed so real.
Zhu Luo's sword slashed at the Mausoleum of Books.
A streak of moonlight moved with it.
A streak of moonlight also appeared in the night sky.
The water in the canals became incomparably bright, so white that it was somewhat dazzling.
The Divine Path paved with white jade was also illuminated by this snow-white light.
One sword intent, two streaks of moonlight, rose and fell like a tide.
This was the strongest sword style that Zhu Luo had comprehended several hundred years ago when he saw the moon of the demons in the snowy plains of the extreme north.
He had relied on this sword style to directly kill the second-ranked Demon General and establish his unparalleled reputation.
Tonight was his last night, so this sword was presumably his last, so it was only natural that it would be his strongest.
The entire Mausoleum of Books was illuminated by the moonlight. This peerless expert of Tianliang County, even while still heavily injured, was able to push his sword intent to such a level. It truly made one feel reverence.
And yet … such a powerful and ingenious sword was not even able to enter the Divine Path, much less reach the summit of the Mausoleum of Books.
Just when the two streaks of moonlight rose with the sword intent, another streak of light exploded from beneath the Mausoleum of Books.
This streak of light was even brighter than Zhu Luo's moonlight, even more pure white, even more somber.
It was also a streak of sword light.
Like a snowstorm, the sword glows enveloped the world beneath the Divine Path in an extremely short amount of time.
Two extremely powerful sword intents met.
The water in the shallow canal jumped as if it was boiling, spraying countless sparkling water droplets into the night sky before being cut in half.
Countless perfectly straight sword marks appeared on the hard black stone platform. They were several feet deep and were deeply embedded into the ground.
Countless shrill sounds of slicing filled the heavens and the earth, and it seemed extremely terrifying.
Would the two beams of moonlight be able to disperse the wind and snow, or would the wind and snow ultimately be able to cover up the moonlight?
An extremely ear-piercing sound of metal breaking rang out!
The snowstorm raged, and the moonlight in the night sky was blown to pieces. The moonlight in front of the Divine Path was also annihilated!
Zhu Luo's figure suddenly disappeared.
The next moment, he returned to his wheelchair.
His face was very pale, and the sword in his hand was broken.
His grizzled hair fluttered in the night wind, and from time to time, a few strands would fall off.
With the determination to die, he swung his sword at the Mausoleum of Books. With incomparable determination, he naturally would not choose to retreat.
He was forced back by the sword intent that was like a snowstorm.
The Tianhai Divine Empress had yet to act, so whose sword intent was so powerful?
Zhu Luo's body slightly trembled, as if in the next moment, he would be blown to the ground by the night wind.
Guan Xingke glanced at him.
Zhu Luo slowly shook his head and slowly sheathed the broken sword in his hand. He slowly raised his head and looked forward.
He could have performed these actions more elegantly, but he did not. He only performed them very seriously and slowly, because he knew that this was the last time he sheathed his sword.
The snowstorm of sword intent gradually dissipated, faintly revealing the scene below the Divine Path. One could see that there was a pavilion there.
A person sat in the pavilion.
Zhu Luo looked over and sighed, "I didn't think that you were already this strong."
With a light sound, the front of his clothes split open, revealing a clear and deep wound. Blood gradually seeped out.
"Two years ago, Xun Mei risked his life to seek the Dao, which moved me. That night, I decided to break through. From that moment on, I was already this strong."
An ancient voice rose from below the pavilion.
This voice came from the armor, as if it had been smeared with the dust and rust of the armor for a long time.
As the voice fell, dust began to rise, and then there was the sound of metal scraping against metal.
Soon after, the pavilion collapsed, a cloud of dust rising. Within it, a mountainous figure was faintly discernible.
He had sat under this pavilion for more than six hundred years. Tonight, he had finally stood up.
He was the Mausoleum Guardian of the Mausoleum of Books.
The number one Divine General of the continent, Han Qing.
… …
… …
Looking at the collapsed pavilion and the figure in the smoke and dust, everyone was shocked, and their expressions became extremely grave.
None of the experts that came to the Mausoleum of Books would forget the existence of this legendary figure. It was just that they were used to treating him like a statue or a symbol.
After guarding the mausoleum for more than six hundred years, the number one Divine General of the continent, Han Qing, had obtained the respect of the entire world. Even the Storms of the Eight Directions did not dare to look down on him.
Everyone knew that if he had not sworn an oath to guard the mausoleum, he would have entered the Divine Domain many years ago.
However, it was only tonight that everyone knew that he had broken through a long time ago!
He stood in front of the Divine Path, his left hand gripping his sheath, his right hand gripping his sword. Although he was alone, he seemed like a magnificent army.
"Before His Majesty Taizong returned to the sea of stars, you swore an oath that you would never enter the Divine for the rest of your life."
Zhu Luo paid no attention to the wound on his chest that was deepening. He stared at Han Qing and said, "Now that you've broken your oath, how will you have the face to meet His Majesty in the future?"
Besides experts of the Divine Domain like Zhu Luo, Guan Xingke, and Bie Yanghong, no one else knew of this matter, nor did anyone understand why Emperor Taizong had made Han Qing swear this sort of oath before his death.
Even the Qiushan clan head clearly did not know the inside story, a pensive expression on his face.
Han Qing said nothing, not replying to Zhu Luo's question. The shadow of his helmet obscured his face, making it impossible to tell what sort of expression he currently had.
"The old man from back then, the old oath, is no longer important."
Zhu Luo sighed, "That's right. Even I broke my oath to the starry sky in Xunyang City and attacked Wang Po, so how can I demand anything from you?"
After saying this, he slowly sat back down in his wheelchair and then slowly closed his eyes.
The blood seeping out from the wound on his chest suddenly changed color, becoming crystalline as if it was mixed with the shards of many crystals.
The crystalline blood met the wind and transformed into countless rays of light.
His body also transformed into countless rays of light, just like that bright expanse on the snowy plains of the Demon race several hundred years ago.
The rays of light were gradually dispersed by the wind, drifting in every direction until they vanished.
All that was left was an empty wheelchair.
… …
… …
Zhu Luo was dead.
No matter what sort of evaluation the common people had of him, especially after that rainy night in Xunyang City, he was still an important figure of the continent.
Although he had suffered two miserable defeats at the hands of the Holy Maiden of the south and Su Li, he was still a supreme expert of the Divine Domain, a grandmaster of the Human race.
When he was young, he had gone north several times to the snowy plains and achieved enormous feats. He could write poetry and drink wine, and he was extremely free and at ease. He was the idol of many people.
After all, he was the Sect Master of the Emotion-Severing Sect, the clan lord of Tianliang County, and the Storms of the Eight Directions.
In normal times, the death of an important figure like him would assuredly be a major event that would shake the entire continent.
Tonight, however, his death seemed so ordinary.
This was not merely because his death seemed too ordinary. More importantly, when many people saw his death, their emotional reactions were not that exaggerated.
This meant that everyone had some sort of mental preparation. This sort of thing would continue to happen, this sort of scene would continue to appear.
Experts of the Divine Domain would assuredly fall.
But they did not know whether it would be the Storms of the Eight Directions or the Saint at the peak of the Mausoleum of Books.
Tonight truly was an extremely terrifying night.
… …
… …
There was a clap.
The scabbard in Han Qing's hand fell by his foot, splashing up some rainwater.
The turbid water in the canal leaped up and then fell back down, returning to silence, no longer daring to move.
Two profound gazes peered out from the gloomy depths beneath the armor towards the surroundings of the Mausoleum of Books.
A voice also came from the gloomy depths beneath the armor and spread throughout the Mausoleum of Books.
"Those who ascend to the Divine Path, die."
This was the order the Tianhai Divine Empress had given him before she brought him to the peak of the Mausoleum of Books.
All was quiet, no one speaking.
Guan Xingke silently gazed at the empty wheelchair. At some point, he had taken off his bamboo hat, revealing his ordinary and unremarkable face.
Bie Yanghong's expression was very solemn. Wuqiong Bi stood at his side, the horsetail whisk resting in the crook of her arm already hanging down to her waist. Her hands were clenched so tightly that one could faintly see the paleness of her hands.
Although Zhu Luo was still heavily injured, he was still one of the Storms of the Eight Directions.
And if what Han Qing said was true, then he had only stepped into the Divine Domain two years ago. Logically speaking, his understanding and grasp of the laws of the world should have been far inferior to Zhu Luo's.
Yet he had only used one strike of his sword to kill Zhu Luo.
This fact was very difficult for them to accept, and their hearts were rather heavy.
But no matter how difficult it was to accept this fact, it had already happened. In the end, they still had to continue what they had to do.
The three Storms could already faintly sense that the Tianhai Divine Empress's soul had already gone elsewhere. At this moment, the only one standing at the peak of the Mausoleum of Books was her. Moreover, she had just dropped in cultivation because she had defied the heavens and changed Chen Changsheng's fate, and had also suffered a mental blow from the fact that Chen Changsheng was not Crown Prince Zhaoming. It could be said that she was at her weakest in the past two-hundred-some years.
This also meant that this was the moment when the Divine Empress was most likely to be defeated.
They could not miss out on this chance.
If they wanted to step onto the Divine Path and battle with the Tianhai Divine Empress, they first had to defeat Divine General Han Qing, who was beneath the Divine Path.
Moreover, while others did not know, they were well aware of Han Qing's greatest secret. They even wanted Han Qing to die.
Wuqiong Bi's expression was very nervous. A hint of fear would occasionally flash through her eyes, but it was ultimately replaced by madness.
In the eyes of the Tianhai Divine Empress, she was stupid, incompetent, and bordering on idiocy, but she was still an expert of the Divine Domain. The occasional setback to her Dao heart could not completely affect her state of mind.
"Han Qing is definitely injured. This is our chance," she harshly said to Bie Yanghong. "Hurry and go!"
The little flower gently swayed under her pinky finger, its movements rhythmically swaying in the wind.
Bie Yanghong said nothing, not listening to his wife's words.
The rain had stopped long ago. The clouds parted and stars appeared. Suddenly, the vast sky of stars seemed to grow somewhat brighter.
It gave one the feeling that the stars in the sky had gotten closer to the ground.
Next to the wheelchair, Guan Xingke's figure was no longer there, only a bamboo hat in the rain.
The sky of stars seemed both real and illusory as they arrived in the Mausoleum of Books. Following that figure, they swept towards where Han Qing stood.
Han Qing slightly raised his head. The gloomy face that had been concealed by his armor for more than six hundred years was finally illuminated by the starlight.
It was an incomparably old face.
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