The Light of the Righteous Path Has Gone Offline - Chapter 14

Blood-red characters pulsed with spiritual energy. Flowing patterns of light clung to the air, weaving themselves into an enormous, densely interlaced crimson net.

It descended as though from the heavens, enveloping the rocks tangled in withered vines and completely sealing off the only path out.

Ming Jing’s heart sank.

Tentatively, she raised a finger and condensed a stream of ink-black energy, striking heavily at the center of the blood-red net.

Bang!

The impact exploded.

Countless fragments broke from the solid stone walls and crashed onto the ground with a rapid clatter.

Amid the hazy dust, the enormous crimson net continued circulating spiritual energy. Its characters danced even more energetically, yet the formation itself remained utterly motionless and as firm as a mountain.

The energy within Ming Jing’s body nearly fell into disorder.

Only after exerting tremendous effort did she stabilize it. She clenched her fist, both solemnity and astonishment filling her pitch-black eyes.

After a long silence, she spoke three words in a low voice.

“A Blood Talisman Formation.”

Those people had actually used a Blood Talisman Formation to imprison Murong Chi!

It was a Blood Talisman Formation!

No wonder Murong Chi possessed such overwhelmingly powerful cultivation, such mysterious and unfathomable methods, and such a violent, unruly temperament—yet still could not take a single step outside the cavern dwelling.

What was a Blood Talisman Formation?

It was an absolute formation that used the blood essence of living beings as its medium. It gathered the vitality of an entire region and converted it into blood energy, after which a formation cultivator carved the formation patterns and created a grand array capable of sealing heaven and locking down the earth.

The formation’s restraints were determined by the cultivation and strength of the person imprisoned within it.

The stronger the captive, the deeper the formation’s shackles became.

Escaping through one’s own power alone was fundamentally impossible.

No wonder the astral winds beneath the cliff were so fierce.

No wonder the stones below were stained with blood throughout the year.

No wonder this blessed land, capable of nurturing spiritual creatures like Silver Dragonfish and treasures like Purple Lightning Wood, resembled a living hell filled with drifting bloodlust.

A calamitous great demon?

The smile on Ming Jing’s lips became unbearably mocking.

At the same time that she found it utterly absurd, an icy chill surged through her heart.

So this was the righteous path’s method?

If so, becoming a demon was actually rather appealing.

She sneered and lowered her head.

Both of Murong Chi’s hands were bound by blood-red chains. Their ends formed a crooked crimson line, swaying lightly amid the sweeping astral winds while strange characters flickered with dark light across them.

The Blood Talisman Formation used those crimson chains as its anchor points.

It imprisoned living beings through the aura of the chains.

Unless they destroyed the chain around Murong Chi’s wrists, she would never be able to leave this cavern dwelling.

But earlier, inside the stone chamber, Murong Chi had exhausted all her strength and reduced herself to such a miserable condition merely to break the chains around her ankles.

Did she still possess enough strength to destroy those around her wrists?

Ming Jing found the answer in Murong Chi’s ashen face and lowered eyes.

Her heart sank to the bottom of the abyss.

She simply carried Murong Chi to a nearby rock and sat down, supporting her body as she ran a hand along the crimson chain.

A stinging pain slowly traveled through the fingertips gripping it.

Contemplation appeared between Ming Jing’s brows.

Murong Chi could not break this chain because the Blood Talisman Formation had sealed away most of her spiritual energy.

She was the primary target of the formation and its patterns.

That was why she could not leave the cavern.

But Ming Jing could.

The cavern did not restrict Ming Jing’s movements, and the Blood Talisman Formation had not diverted any additional power to deal with her.

Then could she help Murong Chi destroy the chain around her wrists?

Murong Chi still had her head lowered, making the emotions within her eyes impossible to see.

Her entire aura had fallen silent. The once-proud, unrestrained lift of her brows was now replaced entirely by trembling.

She resembled a puppet that had lost its purpose—on the verge of death, yet no longer struggling.

Ming Jing had never seen her like this before.

She paused, then instinctively pulled Murong Chi into her embrace.

Warmth enveloped the woman’s entire body.

Ming Jing’s breathing faltered as anticipation rose within her.

Enduring the pain of her disordered energy, she prepared to summon her demonic aura.

“Host, it’s useless.”

“The Blood Talisman Formation is an extremely yin and sinister formation. Asura energy belongs to the demonic path. If the two forces merge, they will only strengthen the formation. The blood-red chain will not break.”

The voice appeared from nowhere.

Each word entered Ming Jing’s heart, carrying exhaustion and numbness.

Host?

Was it addressing her?

Ming Jing became thoughtful, a profound light passing through her eyes.

She neither answered nor paid any attention to the voice’s warning.

Instead, she bent down and helped Murong Chi sit upright.

After offering her a reassuring look, Ming Jing lifted the crimson chain and circulated her energy.

She clenched it in her palm and poured Asura energy into her hand before crushing down.

Murong Chi stared blankly at Ming Jing.

Her gaze remained fixed entirely upon her hands. Her breathing stopped, and her long, fine eyelashes trembled faintly.

Ming Jing exerted almost all her strength, pouring every trace of Asura energy surrounding her into her palm.

She made no attempt to conceal her cultivation at the peak of the Third Realm.

The domineering aura of the demonic path carried a vicious sharpness. It swept powerfully through the air and smashed against the blood-red chain.

Boom!

The air exploded.

Dust engulfed the two brilliant red figures.

The crimson chain around Murong Chi’s wrist swayed lightly.

When the dust dispersed, it remained silently locked around her jade-pale wrist.

It was nearly as immovable as Mount Tai.

Murong Chi’s eyes flickered.

She held a section of Ming Jing’s sleeve with her head lowered, her body resting limply within the warm embrace.

Through the strands of their tangled hair, she watched Ming Jing’s frowning face, unable to describe the emotion in her heart.

“Ming Jing, it’s useless.”

“In the script, even after Murong Chi obtained your corpse, it still took her nearly a hundred years to barely shatter the chains binding her—and she paid for it by losing almost half her cultivation.”

“You may still be alive now, but not even ten years have passed. The Dao Venerable of the Wanxiang Dao Sect is still in seclusion, so Murong Chi cannot possibly leave the cavern this soon.”

The voice sounded beside Ming Jing’s ear again.

After pausing, it quietly added,

“This isn’t a question of whether your cultivation is powerful enough. It’s… a plot restriction.”

A plot restriction.

Ming Jing’s eyes turned cold.

One hand held the red chain while the other embraced Murong Chi’s body.

A mocking curve appeared on her lips as she silently asked the voice within her mind,

“What does a plot restriction mean?”

The voice replied steadily,

“A plot restriction is… something that cannot be defied. It doesn’t require a reason.”

“If something cannot be done, then it simply cannot be done.”

Something that could not be defied.

Something that required no reason.

Was it like falsely accusing her of colluding with the demon race, destroying her cultivation, and taking away her sword heart?

Ming Jing abruptly laughed.

Murong Chi looked at her with confusion and faint bewilderment.

Ming Jing’s expression turned cold.

She clenched her right hand into a fist and struck the crimson chain again and again, allowing the rising dust to cover them both.

“Ming Jing.”

For once, the voice sounded helpless and uncertain.

“W-what’s wrong with you?”

Had it said something wrong?

“Ming Jing.”

Murong Chi’s voice carried the same coldness it had possessed for a thousand years.

She reached out and caught Ming Jing’s wrist, staring at the vivid blood seeping between her fingers.

Her eyes flickered.

“Forget it.”

She lowered her head.

Violent emotions surged within her eyes, and her body trembled uncontrollably, but her mind retained perfect clarity.

“I can’t break this chain, and neither can you.”

Ming Jing’s heart faltered.

When she looked over, all she could see was the crown of Murong Chi’s head, as though it had been covered in freshly fallen snow.

Her voice was partly obscured by the howling wind, but her tone remained firm.

“Being unable to break it now doesn’t mean anything.”

If they could not break it now, then naturally, they would be able to break it in the future.

Ming Jing understood perfectly.

Murong Chi had been trapped in this cavern for so long, yet in only the ninth year after meeting Ming Jing, she had already managed to shatter the chains around her ankles.

Given enough time, she would undoubtedly destroy those around her wrists in the same way.

The voice had said that in the script about the Dao Venerable of the Wanxiang Dao Sect chasing her wife through a crematorium, Murong Chi had exchanged nearly half her cultivation and a hundred years of effort for her freedom.

But Ming Jing was equally certain that this Murong Chi before her—the Murong Chi sitting warmly within her embrace, whose voice remained as cold as ice—would not need a hundred years to break free.

Nor would she have to sacrifice half her cultivation.

Ming Jing stared unwaveringly at Murong Chi.

The woman kept her head lowered. She held Ming Jing’s injured hand and used a not particularly clean portion of her sleeve to wipe the blood from her palm with surprising care.

The faint light filtering into the cavern illuminated her brows and eyes, making them appear to glow.

After spending nine years with Murong Chi, Ming Jing knew her habits well.

Murong Chi was naturally obsessed with cleanliness.

Even though blood frequently stained the white-jade couch and cold-jade ice bed throughout the years, both were always kept spotless.

Every three days, Murong Chi created a spirit puppet and ordered it to clean the entire cavern from top to bottom.

Yet someone like her was actually willing to lower herself and use her own sleeve to wipe the blood from Ming Jing’s hand?

There was no flirting or teasing in the action.

Only meticulous care and a faint, almost imperceptible tenderness.

Was she doing it out of gratitude?

Was it merely an absent-minded gesture?

Or had her heart already turned to ashes, leaving her indifferent to everything?

Ming Jing remained dazed for a moment.

Then she withdrew her injured hand.

With her other, clean hand, she abruptly grasped Murong Chi’s chin and forced her to look up.

From an extremely close distance, she stared into those eyes, silent and unfathomable as the deep sea.

Her tone was mild.

“I can break it.”

Plot restrictions might limit many things, but they could not restrain someone who had never belonged in the plot.

Ming Jing was that person.

The voice had said she was supposed to die before the story truly began.

Therefore, she should not exist within its restrictions at all.

Something that could not be defied?

Then she would defy it anyway!

Ruthlessness and icy determination spread across Ming Jing’s brows.

She bent down and picked up the red chain covered in dust and blood.

Amid the voice’s panicked muttering, she closed her eyes and brought both hands together.

Vast, violent currents rose from her shattered qi sea.

Blood quickly flowed from the corner of her lips and dripped through the murky air, overwhelming even the suffocating dust.

Her loose hair whipped wildly in the wind, resembling a landscape created from bold strokes of spilled ink.

Her eyes remained closed.

The aura surrounding her was both oppressive and decadent.

Ink-black demonic energy wound around her red robes.

Sinister and bewitching, it made the sunlit cavern appear even more like a den of demons.

For no apparent reason, Murong Chi felt her heart tighten.

She instinctively seized Ming Jing’s hand to stop her movements.

Her voice trembled slightly.

“Ming Jing, what are you doing?”

Ming Jing opened her eyes.

A cold, ruthless light flashed through their pitch-black depths.

Then she curved her lips into a smile, her voice exceptionally soft and gentle.

“I can break the chain.”

“The Blood Talisman Formation is a sinister formation, while Asura energy belongs to the demonic path. Both are filthy and dark, so they cannot oppose one another.”

“But what if I use the aura of the sword path?”

What if she used magnificent sword aura that naturally stood upon the pure and righteous path—radiant enough to rival the morning glow and blazing sun?