Fear demons, arguably the chief among the demons of the Outer Heavens.
These fears, born from the deepest recesses of the human heart, coalesced, transforming into the supreme among demons, so much so that even the ferocious and tyrannical Undying Demons followed the Fear Demons' lead.
Ding Muchen, wielding a streak of sword light, rode the wind and waves, traversing the unfathomable abyss before him. His injuries mounted, and the demons in the Abyss of Heavenly Demons were countless. Yet, he was alone. What use were supreme swordsmanship and potent sword intent? Ultimately, even the strongest fists were no match for multiple opponents.
"Hiss!"
Beneath a blazing, profound sword light, over ten Undying Demons wreathed in flames turned to dust. But behind them, a streak of purple radiance shot forth, striking Ding Muchen’s chest with immense force. It shattered three layers of dense sword energy before being dispersed by Ding Muchen’s punch.
Two Fear Demons approached from separate directions. Amidst the dim glow, their ferocious and arrogant voices echoed.
"Tsk tsk, the God of War!"
"Impressive, impressive. The man who could suppress the Outer Heavens with just one sword and one person is indeed remarkable!"
"Alas, today you shall perish here. Just in time to keep that old Daoist Wang company!"
Ding Muchen’s brows knitted tightly. To attack the city is secondary; to attack the heart is primary. These two Fear Demons understood this military strategy. Never mind whether Old Daoist Wang was dead or not; their words had, in essence, added another layer of pressure to Ding Muchen’s state of mind.
After all, the Abyss of Heavenly Demons was unfathomably deep. Ding Muchen had descended tens of thousands of feet with no retreat. If he faltered now, he might truly perish here.
As a fourteenth-realm God of War, Ding Muchen knew too well what his sacrifice would mean: the collapse of humanity's core strength, a definitive shift in the balance of power between the Upper Realm and the Outer Heavens. If that moment arrived, both the Upper Realm and the mortal world might be doomed.
Therefore, he could not die!
"Come on!"
Ding Muchen couldn't help but laugh heartily. "Let me see what kind of twisted gourds and broken melons are planted in the depths of your hearts, you Fear Demons!"
With that, he flickered his Fusheng sword and cleaved towards the Fear Demon on his left. Simultaneously, his sword repository hummed, and his first Natal Flying Sword shot out, transforming into a sword light as brilliant as a starry river. In the blink of an eye, it tore the Fear Demon’s body into countless pieces, annihilating it.
Ding Muchen’s Natal Flying Swords would never be deployed unless facing certain death. But once deployed, they were guaranteed to decide life or death!
And this first Natal Flying Sword was named "Xiran."
The Fusheng sword’s light surged, and Ding Muchen let out a low roar, almost bending the sword. Then, with a single strike, he slew the other Fear Demon, scattering a sky of purple blood rain.
"Little Ding..."
Suddenly, a voice echoed in Ding Muchen's mind – it was Old Daoist Wang's voice.
Upon hearing this, Ding Muchen’s eyes immediately reddened. It was truly over. The yin in this voice far outweighed the yang; it was the voice of Old Daoist Wang's remnant soul.
Had the dignified strategist, the progenitor of the military arts, truly perished so silently?
"Boundary, Open Path!"
Ding Muchen, his heart in turmoil, could no longer afford to hold back. His second Natal Flying Sword shot out from the sword repository, transforming with a "swish" into dense sword light that pierced towards the abyss’s bottom. Ding Muchen, controlling a streak of sword light, plunged straight down.
The flying sword "Linjie" erupted with light, carrying Ding Muchen nearly a thousand feet down, finally reaching the bottom of the Abyss of Heavenly Demons. Above, countless demons roared ferociously, but they were all blocked by a sword qi he unleashed.
"Swish~~~"
Dressed in a green robe, carrying an empty scabbard, he descended gracefully to the abyss’s floor. Before him lay the corpses of numerous Fear Demons. The surrounding rock walls were etched with crisscrossing sword marks, evidence of a earth-shattering battle. At the far end, a withered, wood-like figure leaned against the rock wall, having sacrificed himself.
"Old Daoist..."
Ding Muchen stumbled, nearly falling. Tears welled in his eyes, and he knelt on one knee before Old Daoist Wang's corpse. "I'm late, I'm sorry..."
He looked at the corpse, which bore countless wounds. Half of its body had been burned to ashes, and the other arm had been bitten off by a Fear Demon. The death was tragic.
"Alas!"
A sigh drifted from nearby. A phantom image sat atop a Fear Demon's corpse – it was Old Daoist Wang's remnant soul. He sat there calmly, unscrewed his wine gourd, and took a long swig, smiling, "Miss Dongcang's apricot blossom wine is truly full of lingering flavor..."
Ding Muchen suddenly stood up and swept a fist through the air in a burst of anger, the wind from his punch churning. The old Daoist’s phantom image swayed slightly.
He said with a choked voice, "Why didn't you come with me? Are you the only one in the Upper Realm who can fight? Now you're dead, and you died so pathetically. Is this the end you wanted, Old Daoist Wang?"
"Hmph!"
Old Daoist Wang continued to drink, laughing, "The renowned God of War, why are you crying like a child? Aren't you ashamed... Death is death. I've lived for many years anyway, it's just a pity I can no longer drink mortal wine..."
Ding Muchen's body trembled slightly. He sat down in front of Old Daoist Wang, took down the red gourd from his waist, and after a large gulp of wine, tears welled in his eyes. "Don't worry. I'll burn a few jars of wine for you every Qingming Festival from now on."
"It matters not."
Old Daoist Wang smiled. "I am a hero of the mortal world. Even in the underworld, I can stir up trouble with my thirty-six swords. I don't believe that old Yama would refuse to send a few jars of wine."
Ding Muchen, his green robe fluttering, took another drink. But as he drank heartily, tears streamed down his face. He couldn't understand why someone as good as Old Daoist Wang had to die. As one of the progenitors of strategy, military arts, and Daoism, who in the world could claim higher scholarship without mentioning this old Daoist?
And such a person died so silently in this damned place. Had the heavens truly opened their eyes?
"Enough, enough."
Old Daoist Wang said with distaste, "Stop being so sentimental. This childlike behavior doesn't suit you, Ding Muchen. You being able to break through to here alone with one sword and not die proves you're indeed tougher than me, but that's all you are. In terms of mindset, I, Wang Xu, am far more stable than you, Ding Muchen."
Ding Muchen laughed heartily, wiping away his tears. "Alright, you have the best mindset!"
As he spoke, he looked at Old Daoist Wang's spectral remnant soul. In this Abyss of Heavenly Demons, with its surging demonic energy, it wouldn't last long before dissipating into nothingness.
He frowned. "Alright, any last words? Speak quickly, lest you have no chance to say them later."
"Indeed."
Old Daoist Wang patted the wine gourd at his waist and smiled. "This mortal wine, I drink it here for the last time. Perhaps we'll drink it again in the next life."
With that, Old Daoist Wang stood up and, using his remnant soul's power, kicked aside a corpse of an Undying Demon. "Ding Muchen, look over here. Consider it my greatest contribution to humanity before my death."
"Hmm?"
Ding Muchen quickly floated over, only to find an inconspicuous crack at the bottom of the Abyss of Heavenly Demons. As he narrowed his eyes to observe, he discovered residual traces of demonic energy deep within the crack. Instantly, Ding Muchen was greatly shocked. "How can this be? How can the boundary between the Outer Heavens and the Upper Realm have such a large gap?"
"This is where the problem lies," Old Daoist Wang said gravely. "The demons of the Outer Heavens are insidious and pervasive. We thought guarding the ancient Godly Investiture Platform was enough to suppress countless demons, but we never expected them to find another way, a passage to the three realms within the Abyss of Heavenly Demons."
Saying that, the old Daoist raised a finger and gestured downwards, accelerating the flow of time. Tracing back through time, Ding Muchen saw countless blood-red fireflies, holding oil-paper umbrellas, continuously leaving the Outer Heavens through the crack and infiltrating the Upper Realm.
"Umbrella-wielding demons?"
Ding Muchen frowned.
"Yes," Old Daoist Wang replied calmly. "I traced it back and saw that at least a million umbrella-wielding demons have infiltrated the Upper Realm. However, I cannot see through the other side of the crack from here. I only know that over a million demons have entered the Upper Realm, but I don't know where."
Ding Muchen's expression grew solemn. "I have been guarding the Godly Investiture Platform for a long time, and the various mountains in the Upper Realm are also guarded by Ascended Realm cultivators. Such a large number of umbrella-wielding demons would surely have been discovered by someone. Yet, no one found them, which means someone is facilitating their entry."
"The mystery lies here," Old Daoist Wang frowned. "Someone in the Upper Realm has colluded with the demons of the Outer Heavens. As for their motives, it is unknown."
Ding Muchen's gaze turned icy. "Mere umbrella-wielding demons, I can kill thousands with a single punch. Even if a million umbrella-wielding demons reach the Upper Realm, we have numerous thirteenth and fourteenth-realm cultivators. What is there to fear?"
"What if their target is not the Upper Realm?" Old Daoist Wang's gaze was calm.
For a moment, Ding Muchen's brows furrowed. "You suspect... they intend to pour millions of umbrella-wielding demons into the Lower Realm, and then use the chaos in the Lower Realm to force the Upper Realm, compelling us, the sages guarding the Upper Realm, to reshuffle?"
"It's more or less along those lines," Old Daoist Wang said, sounding weary. "I no longer have the strength to deduce and plan for the Upper Realm. Fortunately... the Confucian school still has the Grand Sage, the Daoist school has the Dao Ancestor, and your military school has you and the God of War, along with many other sages. With you all here, I, Wang Xu, have no regrets. The remaining troublesome matters are no longer my concern."
"Ding Muchen..." Old Daoist Wang cradled the yellow gourd and looked up at the young God of War, smiling. "Actually, I've always liked this yellow gourd that Lin Zhao gave me... It's a shame, but this crack needs to be sealed. Could you do me one last favor?"
"What favor?" Ding Muchen frowned.
Old Daoist Wang grinned. "Smash the yellow gourd and the sword mud inside with one sword. I, Wang Xu, wish to emulate Nüwa mending the heavens and use my life's Dao to seal this gap in the Abyss of Heavenly Demons."