Ren Du stared intently at his opponent, Zhou Qingxuan. Facing him, Ren Du realized he couldn't siphon off even a shred of magical power; Zhou Qingxuan’s Yin and Yang were perfectly balanced. The Hua Xue Da Fa (Blood Transformation Great Art), capable of absorbing a person’s entire magical essence and vital blood, still had its limits, and Zhou Qingxuan’s absolute equilibrium rendered any absorption futile.

His only recourse now was to employ the Xing Yi Da Fa (Star Shifting Great Art) to deflect incoming force while simultaneously unleashing the Bai Jian Fa (Hundred Swords Art). Ren Du possessed considerable talent in the Dao of the Sword, mastering the Hundred Swords Art completely.

As he launched his strikes, Ren Du took stock of the surrounding environment.

He had to leave! If he lingered, he feared being trapped here. Ren Du immediately attacked with overwhelming ferocity, unleashing a torrent of explosive maneuvers. Concurrently, he invoked the Tian Mo Xue Dun Da Fa (Heavenly Demon Blood Evasion Art). Once used, this technique allowed for an escape of ten thousand li through blood essence, but at the cost of severely damaging one's foundational vitality. Thirty years would pass before full recovery of peak combat strength. Ren Du truly wished to avoid using the Tian Mo Xue Dun Da Fa unless absolutely necessary.

In an instant, a streak of crimson shadow fled afar!

And at that very moment, Zhou Qingxuan drew his blade!

One sword stroke divided Yin and Yang!

"Trying to flee? You’ll leave an arm behind as tribute first," Zhou Qingxuan laughed loudly.

A flash of scarlet light shot upward through the air; an arm was instantly severed, dissolving into a mist of blood. Having an arm cleaved by Zhou Qingxuan was no simple matter to mend. This strike carried a unique power; Ren Du would not dream of regrowing that limb for another century or more.

Fleeing via the Tian Mo Xue Dun Da Fa, Ren Du shrieked in agony. Zhou Qingxuan's sword had not only severed his arm but also detonated the residual magical power of Dongfang Yao within him. Ren Du had believed his control over Dongfang Yao’s power was impeccable, but he had overlooked a fatal flaw, one that Zhou Qingxuan had unerringly discovered.

Now, the inner flow of Dongfang Yao’s power was rapidly draining away, effectively nullifying the effort spent absorbing it. On top of that, he had utilized the Tian Mo Xue Dun Da Fa, gravely wounding his essence, and lost an entire limb.

Damn it! How devastating this loss was. Originally, he was supposed to be significantly superior to Song Qingqiao; he could have defeated Song Qingqiao and Yan Er fighting together. Now, while his vitality was recovering over the next thirty years, he would only be equal to Song Qingqiao. And even after thirty years, when his essence returned, breaching the Zhen Wu Qi Jie formation would still prove difficult. Curse this! This loss was colossal!

Furthermore, Ren Du knew his true adversary would never be Song Qingqiao and the others. A stuffy old fool like Song Qingqiao, even if his power matched his own, would be manipulated to his doom by Ren Du. The problem was Mount Hua!

Mount Hua—this battle had forged their spirit, vitality, and essence; it had established the very style of Mount Hua. From this day forward, Mount Hua possessed the mettle to look down upon all rivals in the Jin Kingdom. Any future confrontation involving the Tiān Tì Méng (Alliance Against Heaven) against Mount Hua would naturally begin with their aura suppressed. This battle was an absolute rout, not merely a military defeat, but a complete collapse in the war of morale. Dealing with Mount Hua in the future would be nearly impossible!

And most vexing of all was that old fox, Zhou Qingxuan—how could one never truly see the depth of his capabilities? He had defeated Ren Du three times! Each time, Zhou Qingxuan seemed to push his limits, yet whenever Ren Du elevated his own strength, he would still fall beneath him? This old fox, could it be…? No, he couldn't allow himself to think that way. If he did, he would lose the battle within his own spirit as well.

Ren Du slammed heavily onto the desert sands, now tens of thousands of li from Mount Hua. I must fight Mount Hua again! Whether the great enterprise of the Jin Kingdom succeeds hinges entirely upon whether Mount Hua can be shattered.

... The battle for Mount Hua had finally concluded. Now, countless people from Mount Hua—from the High Sages above, the Sword Immortals and Elders in the middle ranks, down to the disciples—were largely covered in gore, bearing wounds upon wounds. Yet, scarcely a one cried out in pain. Exhilarating! Exhilarating! Exhilarating! When pouring one’s entire being into a single endeavor, the sheer satisfaction was unparalleled! The feeling of success after defending Mount Hua was utterly exhilarating. Using our strength to protect all of our Mount Hua. This Mount Hua did not belong solely to Yan Cangtian, nor to Chu Duan, nor to Lu Yuan alone; it belonged to everyone. The sky—it was truly so blue.

He Qinghe lay sprawled on the ground, gazing upward. Although using the Jie Ti Dan (Body Disintegration Pill) had almost certainly cost him the chance to break through to the Sixth Heaven of the Great Dao Realm, He Qinghe felt no regret. He understood that the remainder of his life would be dedicated to diligently instructing the ninth and tenth generations of Mount Hua disciples, fulfilling his duty as a member of the eighth generation. Fallen petals are not unfeeling things; they transform into spring mud to nurture the flowers. Moreover, he would no longer teach only those from the Yuan Qi Sect. Disciples from the Yuan Jian Sect and the Yuan Jian Qi Sect would also receive his guidance—all of them were the posterity of Mount Hua, the hope of the mountain.

Ye Yangrong gasped heavily. To be alive felt wonderful. The moment the demon’s longsword pierced his back, Ye Yangrong had indeed been completely depleted of magical power. He had assumed he would never see his son again, yet at that crucial juncture, it was Ling Luoshi, the Sword Immortal of the former Sword Sect, who rushed to his aid. It was more than just assistance; Ling Luoshi directly intercepted the demon’s strike with his own left arm, which was instantly severed. Ye Yangrong had never imagined such desperate self-sacrifice. In truth, Ling Luoshi himself hadn't anticipated acting with such ferocity to save someone from the Yuan Jian Qi Sect, but under the intensity of the moment, it simply happened, instinctively.

"Thank you," Ye Yangyang managed to say.

"No need," Ling Luoshi replied nonchalantly.

Ye Yangrong said no more, merely turning his gaze to the sky. The sky was indeed remarkably blue. His future sons and daughters—he would see them born. Wonderful.

Shi Chaoyang and Ye Fang leaned back-to-back. They had shared no connection before this day; though both were core disciples, they had never exchanged a word. But now, both were utterly exhausted of magical reserves, leaning against each other, supporting the other’s weight, both staring up at the heavens. The sky was so blue.

The sky after the snow was intensely azure.

"Senior Brother, thank you for earlier," Lu Yuan said after rallying the forces from the Five Peaks and Three Sects. Shi Chaoyang, as the senior core disciple after the rearrangement, had taken several blows meant for Ye Fang during the recent fight; otherwise, Ye Fang would have surely perished.

"No thanks necessary. We were all fighting together," Shi Chaoyang felt a sudden urge to whistle.

Because he saw his junior brother from the Yuan Jian Sect, Mo Chuichui, proposing marriage to Wan Qi, a female disciple of the Yuan Qi Sect. Junior Brother Mo Chuichui had always been reserved, hesitating and stuttering when it came to expressing affection, especially toward someone from the Yuan Qi Sect; given the historical friction between the Yuan Jian and Yuan Qi Sects, a romance had seemed impossible. But now, with the tension eased, or perhaps forged anew through this ordeal of life and death, Junior Brother Mo Chuichui was actually proposing to Wan Qi.

Mo Chuichui, covered head to toe in blood, knelt before Wan Qi, equally drenched in gore, to propose. Courtship in the Cultivation World was often simpler and more direct than in the mundane realm—it could involve formal banquets and matchmakers, or simply the man kneeling before the woman. A few people nearby whistled in encouragement, and many others clapped.

"Say yes! Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!" A resounding chorus of cheers erupted!

Lu Yuan felt an overwhelming fatigue wash over him. Human energy was finite. Lu Yuan had first battled Zuo Heng, the Scarlet Winged Demon King, the Star Constellation Old Immortal, and Yuan Ling Shangren—four opponents—then fought Fang Xie, Jing Huanzhen, Qiao Feidu, and the Ugly Old Man of Heaven—another four in tandem—finally slaying Fang Xie and killing the Purple Qilin Demon King. This relentless expenditure should have drained his magical reserves three or four times over. Normal combat would never withstand such a drain, yet he had somehow endured. While slaying the Purple Qilin Demon King, he hadn't felt particularly exhausted, but now that the tension had eased, he realized every minute cell in his body was screaming in protest; not a single drop of magical power remained.

Yet, despite the pain and the depletion, it felt magnificent! The feeling of victory was intoxicating! Only by fighting to the bitter end could one truly understand the sensation of triumph after the battle.

Seeing the crowd cheering Wan Qi to accept Mo Chuichui’s proposal, Lu Yuan himself added a shout from the side: "Say yes! Say yes!" At this moment, status meant nothing; he was simply a man of Mount Hua, just like everyone else. His title as Patriarch could temporarily take a hike.

Lu Yuan looked up at the sky. The sky was truly blue.

Lu Yuan saw Zhou Qingxuan depart toward Reflection Peak, but this time, Lu Yuan noticed that his Martial Ancestor Zhou Qingxuan was smiling. He rarely smiled; at least, this was the first time Lu Yuan had ever seen Martial Uncle Zhou display amusement. What was this...? Lu Yuan immediately understood why Martial Uncle Zhou was smiling.

Because! The divisions between the Three Sects had been utterly eradicated by this conflict. Indeed, previously, Lu Yuan had forcibly suppressed all dissent by merging the Five Peaks and Three Sects, bringing everyone together. Even so, deep within them lay residual barriers; they hadn't truly integrated. If Lu Yuan’s iron-fisted policy were lifted, the old divisions might have resurfaced. But after this ordeal of death and rebirth, Lu Yuan understood: the former Five Peaks and Three Sects were irrevocably gone. From now on, there would be only one Mount Hua! Mount Hua is Mount Hua! Ancestor Yan, Master—what you feared, what you failed to achieve, I have finally accomplished.

... As Lu Yuan tilted his head back to look at the sky, he felt his entire reservoir of Sword Intent surging. However, the most intense activity was concentrated within the eight Earth-elemental Sword Intents: the Sword Intent of Earth, the Sword Intent of Stone, the Sword Intent of Mountain, the Sword Intent of Mud, the Sword Intent of Sand, the Sword Intent of Defense, the Sword Intent of Moon, and the Sword Intent of Star.

This was… the Sword Intents moving on their own, preparing to charge toward the Earth Sovereign Sword Dao? Lu Yuan was astonished by this realization. Comprehending the Three Sovereign Sword Daos—the Water Sovereign, Gold Sovereign, and Fire Sovereign Daos—had required his own active, agonizing effort to achieve just one Sovereign Dao. Yet now, eight Earth-elemental Sword Intents were spontaneously surging to complete the Earth Sovereign Dao. What madness was this? Such a phenomenon was unprecedented in history. But, setting aside the speculation for a moment, he focused on storming the Earth Sovereign Dao!

Lu Yuan drew a deep breath, and various concepts related to the Earth Sovereign flooded his mind. (Finally, the pitfall of the Three Sects has been filled.)