Chapter 128: A Wisp of Violet-Gold Timeless Aura, Witnessing the Mortal Emperor's Wrathful Crusade Against the Heavens

The green hills remain as they were, and the sword qi still flows with elegance.

After slaying the immortals, he encountered the stone effigy of an emperor. Beneath the effigy lay a myriad of bones, and the blood of immortals flowed like a vast sea. No matter how the ages shifted, the emperor's stone effigy stood firm with hands behind his back, his gaze calm, his hair undisturbed, his robes neat, and his bearing unyielding, as if untouched by time. An intangible majesty emanated from the stone effigy, surveying the world that belonged to him.

An Le felt a supreme majesty, yet unlike the pressure of the immortals he had encountered in the mist, this majesty did not compel him to kneel. Instead, it felt like a gentle spring breeze, as if soft laughter echoed all around. It was as if the ancient stone effigy, sealed for endless eons, was whispering softly:

"You have come."

The two words were calm, as if waiting for the fated one who would tear through the ages after ten thousand years of silence.

Heaven and earth were tranquil, and the sword qi felt like a cool breeze. Sunlight seemed to pierce through the flowing clouds, casting dappled rays onto the mountain’s stone path. Within the mountains, time held no meaning; everything seemed as it had always been.

An Le had the bamboo sword "Green Mountain" tucked at his waist. He felt entirely whole, as if the immortal pressure he had previously endured were nothing more than an illusion. But An Le knew it was no illusion. Within the Niwan Palace at the center of his brow, his sword furnace clanged, and his primordial spirit sat atop a seven-colored glazed heart-sword. It was no longer a mere embryo, but a complete heart-sword!

When he had faced the giant sword dropped by the immortal earlier, An Le had unleashed the heart-sword embryo from his brow to parry it. In that final moment, the heart-sword embryo had been forged to perfection, becoming a true heart-sword. An Le’s heart-sword was forged from an arrogant spirit and tempered by an unyielding will. The sword had a spine, and An Le’s arrogance was the very foundation of that heart-sword.

An Le stepped forward slowly, his feet crunching against the gravel and dust. The Green Mountain was covered in emerald bamboo, and fallen leaves carpeted the ground, making the path feel soft underfoot. The stone effigy sat at the foot of the mountain path, wearing a smile as it gazed into the distance. The craftsmanship of the effigy was so exquisite that it seemed like a living person standing there; every carving, every polished detail, even every single strand of hair, was clearly visible. At a casual glance, one would not mistake it for a mere stone statue, but for a real man.

An Le looked at the effigy, feeling an inexplicable and intense sense of familiarity. In truth, he did not know who this effigy represented, yet from its attire, he could discern that the subject was an emperor—an emperor whose majesty had once shaken the world. With immortal bones scattered at his feet, what kind of battle had he fought before him?

Some people, even if you do not know their name or identity, trigger an instinctive recognition the moment you see them, as if all the historical accounts and world-shaking titles once bestowed upon them suddenly align.

"Is that... the First Emperor?"

An Le’s eyes were slightly clouded. With his sword at his waist, he drew closer, step by step. The sword qi turned into a cool breeze, brushing through the bamboo forests of the mountain. The bamboo sea rustled gently, and several bamboo leaves, sharp as sword blades, tumbled through the air, grazing An Le’s shoulders and hair. Here, time felt still and perfectly tranquil.

"An Le greets you, senior."

Reaching the front of the effigy, An Le bowed with clasped hands, paying his respects. This was not the unyielding defiance he had shown the immortal phantom, but the humble greeting of a junior before a predecessor.

Heaven and earth remained silent, with only An Le’s clear voice echoing. He waited, expecting a response. After maintaining the bow for a moment and sensing that no reply was forthcoming, he slowly straightened his back.

Yet, just as he stood upright, the effigy seemed to stop gazing at the distance. It stopped looking down at the world that belonged to it and instead turned its gaze toward An Le. Though it still smiled, the expression held a hint of warmth.

"Good."

The soft voice echoed, ringing in An Le’s ears like a clap of thunder that had pierced through time and space. An Le’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the effigy, feeling as if, in that very moment, it had come to life.

Was this effigy... alive?

An Le took a deep breath. At the sound of the effigy’s voice, the bamboo sword "Green Mountain" at his waist began to tremble gently. It floated upward, flying toward the effigy and hovering before it. Behind the effigy, a secluded stone path wound its way to the peak, promising the feeling of standing at the summit and surveying all the mountains below.

However, An Le was not in a hurry to climb. His focus was entirely on whether the effigy was truly alive. Did the will of the First Emperor, who had unified the world ten thousand years ago, still linger in the human realm? If so, it was truly inconceivable. According to Zhao Huangting’s teachings, a ninth-tier cultivator’s lifespan was limited to five hundred years; only by breaking into the tenth tier could one extend their life, yet even then, true immortality remained elusive. For a cultivator, living a thousand years was already a miracle. While preserving one's will might be easier, surviving for ten thousand years remained a terrifying feat.

"Those who grasp Green Mountain must possess the arrogance to fear no immortal."
"Only those who dare to slay the immortals of heaven are fit to be swordsmen of the human world."
"My sword path, my will—all reside within Green Mountain."

The faint voice seemed to ripple through the eternal river of time, resounding in An Le’s ears as a wild wind suddenly erupted upon the mountain. An Le watched as the Green Mountain, which had been hovering before the effigy, slowly sheathed itself at the effigy's waist, just as it had always hung at his own. It was as if two figures had overlapped.

An Le felt a thunderous jolt in his heart. As he gazed at the effigy, he sensed a profound transformation. A deep connection had been forged between them. With an intuitive understanding, An Le reached out and hoisted the emperor’s stone effigy onto his back!

*Rumble!*

The entire Green Mountain shook. Majestic sword qi roared as if countless immortal souls buried within the mountain were screaming in rage. Carrying the emperor's stone effigy, An Le stepped onto the stone stairs of the mountain.

Instantly, an invisible wave swept out, blowing away the withered leaves on the moss-covered steps and revealing a path that felt as if it had not been trodden for ten thousand years.

On the moss-covered stairs, a figure in green robes climbed the mountain, carrying the stone effigy. As An Le stepped onto the stairs, he felt a special power surging from the mountain hidden beneath the steps. A blurred figure appeared before him, and the pressure of an immortal descended like a mountain. However, the emperor’s stone effigy on An Le’s back seemed to strike out with a sword; a pure and domineering sword intent surged, and the immortal phantom was instantly slain.

An Le felt a trace of sword intent coalesce into a grain-sized golden elixir within his dantian. He felt a hint of exhaustion after climbing just one step.

If he were to climb to the summit, there were at least ten thousand steps... Could he reach the peak?

As soon as the thought emerged, An Le unhesitatingly cast it from his mind. He would simply walk. He had only just begun the climb; why worry about so much? He would exert all his strength to carry this ten-thousand-year-old emperor's stone effigy to the summit.

Exhaling, An Le took another step.

Another immortal phantom appeared, the pressure sweeping down like the collapsing sky. But once again, sword light erupted from the stone effigy. The immortal was slain, blood splattering! Within An Le’s dantian, the sword-intent elixir grew slightly larger.

One step, one immortal slain. One step, one kill. An Le carried the emperor’s stone effigy for ten steps, slaying ten immortals. His state reached its limit; his body, blood, and spirit could no longer sustain the climb. However, An Le realized that this struggle provided a massive boost to the tempering of his physique and primordial spirit.

On the tenth step, a breeze blew softly across the mountain. An Le set the emperor’s stone effigy down and sat cross-legged, gasping for air. In his dantian, the grain-sized golden elixir of sword intent, capable of slaying immortals, floated quietly. It was a vast and powerful force, imbued with a sense of divinity. Had it not been for his God-Connecting Sword Body, An Le might not have been able to gather the sword intent leaking from the effigy’s battle. This intent was likely his greatest opportunity in unveiling the Green Mountain.

The world was quiet. An Le did not continue the climb, and no more immortal phantoms appeared on the mountain. The emperor’s stone effigy stood silently on the stairs, as if gazing at the clearing clouds and the view of the world—though outside, there was only chaos.

An Le sat on the steps and looked up at the effigy, seemingly catching a trace of nostalgia on its face. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. It was not that the effigy had come to life, but that he saw a faint purple aura beginning to weave across the effigy’s body, gradually coalescing into a wisp of "time energy" that resembled burning incense.

*Time energy?!*

An Le’s heart leaped. Could time energy also be condensed from the effigy? Was this the time energy of this noble emperor? Faced with such energy, how could An Le hesitate? With a shift of his mind, he attempted to absorb the wisp. Regardless of success, when opportunity presents itself, one must at least try. An Le knew well that the stronger the being, the harder it was to extract time energy from them, unless his own cultivation improved. Logic dictated that he should not be able to absorb this purple-gold time energy.

Yet, contrary to his expectations, the wisp of purple-gold time energy drifted like a fallen bamboo leaf, instantly entwining around his fingertip before slowly sinking into the Niwan Palace at the center of his brow. Gray time energy, gold time energy, and now... An Le seemed to have uncovered a new kind: purple-gold time energy.

He closed his eyes slightly, and everything in the world seemed to vanish. Only a plume of purple-gold smoke remained, transforming into a stick of purple-gold incense. As the smoke burned, it seemed to cast a stone into the river of time, sending ripples through the visions that followed...

...

The earth was scarred, mountains collapsed, and great rivers ran dry. The dark sky was torn asunder, and surging seawater poured down from the shattered firmament, flooding the human world!

Beyond the broken sky, countless figures cloaked in white radiance—immortals, dense and infinite—stood in wait. And behind them were even more colossal figures, looking down at the bleeding world from beyond the heavens. A dragon the size of a mountain lay across the sky, yet it too bled, its blood pouring down like a river, unable to halt its descent. With a mournful cry, it crashed into the earth, shaking the world and darkening the clouds.

On the ground, an army in somber black armor brandished long spears, swords at their waists, roaring in fury. An Le looked down and saw a spear protruding from his own chest, covered in ancient characters and wreathed in immortal mist, yet the blood flowing from his wounds had stripped the spear of its divinity. He felt no pain, for he knew he was merely a spectator viewing a scene preserved in time. But the impact was overwhelming.

He had transcended the barriers of time, returning to that land ten thousand years ago, witnessing a legendary battle unrecorded in any chronicle. Following the gaze of the body he inhabited—which was already on the verge of death—he saw a mountain rising into the sky. At the summit stood a burly emperor in dark robes, his aura as vast as a blazing sun, illuminating the dim world. He held a sword, pointing it at the swarms of immortals emerging from the broken sky.

"I am the Emperor of the Human Realm, not a Son of Heaven!"
"What belongs to the heavens remains in the heavens; the human world belongs to the human world!"
"If the heavens wish to meddle in the human world, I shall turn the heavens into the human world!"
"From this day on, there is no Son of Heaven in the human world!"
"Today, I shall cut down the heavens!"

An Le could not hear the words clearly, yet as the majestic proclamation fell, the blood within this body boiled uncontrollably. *Human Emperor, not a Son of Heaven! Cutting down the heavens!* Though he did not understand the full context of ten thousand years ago, on this day, An Le truly witnessed the arrogance and heroism of the first emperor of the ages!

Most importantly, the army’s worship and trust in their emperor were absolute. At his roar and command to cut down the heavens, the armored soldiers roared in unison. Generals, powerful cultivators themselves, ascended to the sky, fearing no immortal pressure, engaging them in slaughter. Even spirits and beasts that had pledged loyalty to the emperor faced the celestial soldiers!

It was a tragic war that stained the world red and stripped the sky of its blue. It felt like the end of the world. Compared to the battle of the southern migration he had once observed, this war represented the emperor’s unyielding spirit—never retreating, never surrendering, never yielding a single blade of grass to the immortals!

At the end of the vision, An Le saw the final sword strike. The emperor in dark robes, rising like a burning sun, swung his sword toward the sky. That strike sent countless immortals bleeding and falling to the earth. That strike illuminated the world, banishing the darkness. That strike was like a spark lit in the human world, burning upward to incinerate the nine layers of heaven.

...

In the Sword Pool Palace, three days and three nights passed in the blink of an eye. The sword qi lingering on the surface of the Sword Pool had begun to dissipate, and the intent formed by the three first-grade swords had long since vanished. The crowd at the lakeside stopped their meditation, all appearing satisfied. Lu Shisan felt he had gained much, his cultivation even seeing a slight improvement, giving him the impulse and confidence to attempt the sixth tier.

Lu Ziwei, holding her star-forged longsword, stood up, her long eyelashes trembling. Her brows furrowed as she stared at the calm surface of the Sword Pool. If she remembered correctly, An Le had entered the pool three days and three nights ago; why was there still no sign of him? Had something gone wrong? But her cultivation was not high enough to probe the bottom, and she dared not use her primordial spirit to investigate.

By the lakeside, Su Muzhe, Wang Yansheng, and Wan Jieliu had not left, remaining seated to wait for news from the depths. Although An Le’s aura had vanished, Zhao Huangting had felt no cause for alarm and had departed for the Dali Kingdom. But the three of them could not leave with such peace of mind.

Suddenly, Su Muzhe opened his eyes, a surge of sword qi erupting from his body: "I feel it."

Wang Yansheng’s aged face revealed a glimmer of joy and relief: "As long as he isn't dead, as long as he isn't dead!"

Not only them, but everyone turned their eyes toward the center of the Sword Pool. A vortex appeared on the calm surface, spinning rapidly. Then, with a roar, a brilliant sword light erupted from the depths, slicing into the firmament and piercing the clouds! The majesty was overwhelming, irresistible, domineering, and unparalleled. This sword light made everyone feel stifled, even compelling them to bow in submission. It seemed as if it would cut down the very stars in the sky!

At the bottom of the Sword Pool, the old Sword Saint’s hair and beard flew in the wind. The Cheng Ying sword had returned to his waist. Looking at the sword light piercing the sky, his eyes were filled with complex emotions.

"Green Mountain... so this is the secret within Green Mountain?"
"No wonder Zhao Huangting failed to unveil it four times, no wonder no one could unveil it for so many years..."
"It is too heavy; the meaning this sword carries is far too heavy..."

The old Sword Saint sighed, a hint of worry crossing his face. He did not know if mastering such a sword was a blessing or a curse for An Le. Even he could not trace the lost history sealed away by time. Yet, he could not deny that whoever dared to wield this sword possessed a charm worth the entire Sword Pool Palace betting on.

"To dare to wield a sword and slay immortals—is this not the very spirit and joy that human swordsmen pursue?" The old Sword Saint chuckled.

The Seven-Star Longyuan sword was planted back into the bottom of the pool, returning to silence. The cocoon formed by the sword qi was completely shredded, revealing the unharmed youth within. The boy was now filled with sharp, unsheathed brilliance, gripping the bamboo sword. The blade was speckled with traces of immortal mist and strange, divine blood. As the blood evaporated, the old Sword Saint saw eleven drops of immortal blood vanish. The light on the bamboo sword grew sharper, displaying an extremely domineering edge!

Wiping the immortal blood from the blade was the act of unveiling this ancient weapon.

An Le opened his eyes. He saw the old Sword Saint in his hemp robes, hands behind his back, and nodded. Then, gripping Green Mountain, he swung it forward. Every drop of water in the Sword Pool contained sword qi, and at that moment, as An Le swung, all the sword qi surged into the clouds, lifting every drop of water from the lake. The entire volume of the lake hung suspended in the air.

At the lakeside, all the disciples of the Sword Pool Palace were stunned, and the geniuses of the Dali Kingdom’s Star Ranking were left speechless. Such an impactful sight left their minds in turmoil.

Beneath the water suspended against the sky, An Le walked out from the depths of the pool, one hand holding Green Mountain, the other gripping Yan Gui Chao, with Mo Chi and Ding Feng Bo hanging at his waist.

On the shore, every sword held by the spectators began to tremble uncontrollably, emitting clear, crisp rings as if in submission. Throughout Jinguancheng, after the great sorrow of the thirty-six tolls of the Sword Bell, the swords now trembled with frantic excitement.

Everyone’s eyes were dazed. It was as if they saw an emperor of the human realm—with an unyielding spirit, enduring sword qi, and fear of neither heaven nor gods—stepping out from the churning river of time, step by step, to survey the human world that belonged to him.