Chapter Sixty-Eight: Memories of Dust (Part One)

The Corpse Immortal of the Immortal Chant I am the Taoist of Drunken Sun. 2443 words 2026-04-11 16:52:10

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PS: This is the Dust Memories arc, which can also be considered the past life of Night Without End. It’s connected to this main story. Originally, I planned to release it later, but since I only have time for one update today, I’m sharing this for everyone to read. Please forgive me!

Now, the main text!

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“Old friend, do you have confidence in this Ninefold Immortal Tribulation?” The middle-aged man looked up at the sky, where the nine-colored thunder was roiling and gradually taking shape, worry etched across his face as he gazed at the lonely figure standing atop the mountain peak.

“If I don’t fight with everything, not even thirty percent.” The youth’s voice, slightly hoarse, drifted to the middle-aged man’s ears.

The man was stunned and quickly asked, “Why?”

The youth looked up, feeling the increasingly wild energy within the immortal thunder, and said, “This is no longer just the Ninefold Immortal Tribulation. It’s a true Forbidden Tribulation!” His voice trembled with a hint of fear.

It was clear his heart was deeply unsettled at this moment.

“What? How—how can this be? Forbidden Tribulation? How could I not sense it?” The middle-aged man’s heart quivered, his words stumbling in disbelief.

The youth was only at the Ninth Rank of Tribulation Immortal. Surviving this Immortal Tribulation was already difficult, but now a Forbidden Tribulation had appeared. Legend had it that Forbidden Tribulations only rarely descended upon the lower realms. Since ancient times in the cultivation world, there had only been nine cases. Each one was a peerless genius, a being whose talents shook the world. Yet, no one had ever succeeded in surviving such a tribulation.

“This Immortal Realm—do you really have to go, old friend? Perhaps it’s not too late to change your mind. Though I can’t interfere with this tribulation, I can use my authority over the Heavenly Dao to keep you safe and disperse the tribulation.” The middle-aged man spoke earnestly.

“Thank you, brother, I appreciate it. We cultivators walk the path of defiance against fate. I’ve seen all manner of monsters and demons along the way, never feared, never retreated, not even half a step. Even if there’s a bottomless abyss ahead, I must walk on.”

“Because—she’s still waiting for me!” The youth opened his palm, revealing an exquisite wooden hairpin. Looking at it, his sharply defined face blossomed with a happy smile.

“But it’s been ten thousand years. She may have forgotten you! Perhaps even... Is it really worth it?” The middle-aged man silently asked himself, is it worth it to become such a thing, neither human nor ghost, for her? Is it?

“It is!” With a single word, the youth expressed his unwavering conviction through the ages.

At the same time, the thunder in the sky roared, as if awakening ancient beasts, making the entire world pale.

Eighteen suns transformed into golden crows and quickly departed, plunging the sky into darkness.

All cultivators in the world felt a shock in their hearts; the weaker ones were crushed by the aura, coughed blood, and fainted.

At this moment, the great figures sensing this world-shattering aura all had a terrifying thought arise in their hearts.

Could it be the Sword God crossing his ninth Immortal Tribulation?

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Watching the immortal thunder strike down overhead, the youth advanced instead of retreating, stepping forward as space twisted, instantly appearing high above, directly beneath the thunder. With wild energy, he punched toward the thunder.

The collision of two raging energies distorted the entire sky.

Bang!

Ripples filled with tearing immortal energy spread outward.

The youth, upon contact, was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, tumbling through the air.

“Pfft.”

He coughed up a mouthful of blood, struggling to his feet.

Looking at the sky, where the second wave of immortal thunder was gathering, he thought, “Is it this weak? If so, it’s not enough to impress me!”

In the distance, figures appeared one after another. The ancestors and greats of the cultivation world brought their proud disciples to witness this battle between man and heaven.

“If the Sword God crosses this step, he’ll ascend directly to the Immortal Realm. We can only envy him,” sighed a white-robed elder.

“Master, this Sword God isn’t all that! The tribulation just started and he’s already so battered,” the young girl beside him pouted.

“Xue, don’t judge Sword God by how battered he looks now. You’ve just entered the sect, and even your master was beaten badly by him. If you think carefully, you’ll realize how terrifying he really is!” laughed another elder who had just appeared.

“Hmph! You’re not much better yourself,” the white-robed elder snorted.

“Uncle Feng!” The girl smiled and greeted the newly arrived elder, glancing cautiously at her master.

“That’s right! He hasn’t even drawn his sword yet!” she nodded.

“Don’t look around. I didn’t bring you here just to play. Watch closely. If you gain any insight, it will greatly benefit your cultivation,” the elder admonished, eyes fixed on the epic battle.

The middle-aged man watched the youth endure the tribulation, seeing him sent flying again and again, only to rise and charge once more. Ever since he became the Heavenly Dao, his heart, which hadn’t felt pain in a thousand years, now ached.

But he could not interfere. If he did, the tribulation’s power would multiply.

Once again, the youth fell from the sky.

He looked at his battered body, feeling his weakening aura, and suddenly burst out laughing, “Hahaha!”

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From within the youth’s body, a pitch-black sword flew out. From within the sword, a clear female voice sounded,

“Master, you finally let me out. If you’d kept me inside any longer, I’d have gone mad!”

Beside the sword appeared a stunning figure clad in black as ink. She hurriedly embraced the youth, preventing his fall.

Seeing the youth missing half his body, the woman wanted to cry but couldn’t. Humans have feelings; sword spirits do not.

“Cough, cough. Xiao Mo, how long have you been with me?” the youth weakly asked Ling Mo.

“Master, after today it will be exactly nine thousand years,” Ling Mo replied.

“Oh, without realizing it, nine thousand years have passed!” The youth sighed and, supporting his broken body, stood.

From the half of his body destroyed by tribulation, golden sword intent slowly flowed out, repairing the flesh being devoured by the tribulation.

He turned to the middle-aged man. “Brother Heavenly Dao, I have never asked anything of anyone in this life. Today, I ask two things of you.”

“Speak,” replied the man.

The youth turned to Ling Mo.

Ling Mo seemed to realize something and cried out in terror, “Master, don’t!”

With a thought, the youth severed the contract with Ling Mo, and said, “First, please take care of her for me.”

He reached toward Ling Mo, and a transparent barrier trapped her. He pressed a palm against it, sending Ling Mo toward the middle-aged man.

Ling Mo attacked the barrier with all her might, but it did not budge.

“Second, please tell Yin Yin: If I, Night Without End, return as an immortal—I will marry her!”

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