The Light of the Righteous Path Has Gone Offline - Chapter 15

Ming Jing lowered her eyes and looked at the two fingers she held together like a sword, a trace of pride in her smile.

The reason Murong Chi had saved her, formed a life-and-death contract with her, and made a transaction with her in the first place was that Ming Jing had been born with natural sword bones and possessed the purest, sharpest sword aura in the world.

It was an energy of supreme strength and yang that could not be completely destroyed even after her sword bones had been shattered.

If Asura energy could not break the blood-red chains, then what about sword aura?

“The aura of the sword path?”

Murong Chi froze, confusion appearing within her eyes.

“Wasn’t your sword aura completely extinguished in the boiling blood pool?”

Nine years ago, the boiling blood pool—created with Purple Lightning Wood, Primal Demonic Qi, and Ancient Demon Blood as its primary catalysts—had eradicated the final trace of purity belonging to a sword cultivator and laid out an endless demonic path with neither an end nor a shore to return to.

How could Ming Jing possibly still possess sword aura?

“Yes.”

Ming Jing admitted it without hesitation, her voice calm and devoid of emotion.

“All my sword aura was indeed extinguished in the blood pool. Only the purest Asura energy remains within my qi sea now. It belongs to the demonic path.”

“But if I wish to, I naturally have a way to produce a strand of sword aura.”

Ming Jing paused.

Under Murong Chi’s burning gaze, she continued,

“The sword path I cultivated was different from everyone else’s.”

“My sword aura was fused into my flesh and breath. As long as I remain alive, it will continue to exist.”

She lifted her chin, the upward curve of her lips revealing a trace of pride beneath the sunlight.

“After all, throughout the vast Six Realms, I am the only person born with natural sword bones.”

A profound, heavy bitterness remained hidden beneath her tightly pressed lips, yet the smile she displayed was confident and certain.

“So, Murong Chi, I can break the chains.”

Ming Jing pulled free from Murong Chi’s hand.

She held two fingers together like a sword, and the energy throughout her body began surging.

A faint, razor-sharp aura enveloped her entire figure, while the ink-black lotus mark between her brows shimmered with dark light.

A mournful eagle’s cry suddenly sounded among the clouds, nearly shaking the entire cliff.

Murong Chi looked upward.

She saw a great eagle beating its wings and repeatedly crashing into the clouds and mist, only to be thrown back by the invisible restriction within the air.

A layer of blood stained its broad, powerful wings.

It was the eagle from beneath the cliff—the same one she had seen earlier.

It wanted to escape the abyss and fly into the broader world.

But how could that possibly happen?

Under the Blood Talisman Formation, no living being could escape.

The fact that it had avoided being drained by the formation patterns and survived until now was already extraordinary.

The eagle knew nothing of Murong Chi’s thoughts.

It continued striking the invisible barrier again and again, unleashing in a single moment all the strength it had accumulated over countless years.

It did not care that its body was covered in wounds, that its wings might be destroyed, or that its spiritual essence might disperse.

Murong Chi lowered her head.

Looking at the bewitching, soul-stealing black lotus mark between Ming Jing’s brows, she seized Ming Jing’s hand once more to stop her.

“Producing sword aura could kill you.”

She had not been born with sword bones, nor had she ever cultivated the sword path deeply.

She did not know what kind of path so many people throughout the world pursued so eagerly and worshipped as their faith, or what sort of unbreakable splendor it possessed.

But Ming Jing had already cultivated the Ancient Asura Art to the peak of the Third Realm.

Her qi sea and all the meridians throughout her body were filled with Asura energy—the power of the demonic path.

Since ancient times, the righteous and demonic paths had been incompatible.

The Asura demonic path reigned supreme among all demonic paths. Its energy was the purest and most overwhelming, unable to tolerate even ordinary, impure demonic or monstrous auras.

How could it possibly allow sword aura to coexist within the same body?

Murong Chi suddenly caught Ming Jing’s wrist.

The cold touch against her skin traveled straight into Ming Jing’s heart.

Ming Jing raised her eyes and met a pair of clear, radiant eyes, blazing emotion blooming within their depths.

Her heart faltered.

Only after a long while did she lift an eyebrow and smile.

“Are you worried about me?”

Murong Chi frowned.

She seemed displeased that Ming Jing would still say something so flirtatious and irrelevant at a time like this.

She released Ming Jing’s wrist and leaned backward, her tone becoming indifferent.

“We formed a life-and-death contract. Our lives and deaths are bound together.”

“This sovereign does not wish to die here before even leaving the cavern.”

“Oh.”

Ming Jing nodded.

Her hand did not stop circulating the energy inside her body.

Under Murong Chi’s gaze, she continued smiling with lifted brows, ripples spreading through her eyes.

“When we formed the life-and-death contract, didn’t you already exclude the injuries I suffer and the blood I shed through my own cultivation, miss?”

A life-and-death contract joined two lives and forced them to share injuries and pain.

Yet from the time Ming Jing refined the introductory jade slip and entered the boiling blood pool to extinguish her sword aura, all the way until she reached the Third Realm, she had repeatedly crawled along the boundary between life and death.

She had vomited blood so often that it had become routine.

Throughout it all, Murong Chi had remained entirely unharmed, leisurely standing aside and making sarcastic remarks.

From that moment onward, Ming Jing had known that the so-called life-and-death contract was nothing more than a game controlled by Murong Chi.

Only Murong Chi’s word counted.

“So you knew.”

Murong Chi curved her lips, though the smile remained superficial.

Her gaze toward Ming Jing gradually deepened.

No one knew what she was thinking, but her arms tightened around Ming Jing’s waist, and she pressed her face against her, turbulent emotion surging within her eyes.

“Yes. I have always known.”

Ming Jing nodded with complete understanding.

She lowered her lashes, clear-headed and calm.

“Producing sword aura is my own choice. It is also part of my own cultivation path. It has nothing to do with Miss Murong.”

“If I die, nothing will happen to you.”

Ming Jing supported Murong Chi by the shoulders and gently guided her into her embrace.

With exceptional care, she brushed the dust from Murong Chi’s body.

Then Ming Jing slowly closed her eyes.

In the next moment, her body began trembling violently, as though she were enduring unimaginable pain.

She had called her Miss Murong again, but Murong Chi did not notice those words.

Instead, she stood dazed for a long while.

Then she raised her head once more and looked toward the great eagle among the clouds, its body nearly crippled yet still crashing against the invisible barrier.

Ming Jing kept her eyes closed.

Within the darkness, her senses of touch and energy became several times sharper.

As her consciousness sank deeper, her fingers curved.

A sword’s sharpness capable of cleaving the heavens flashed past.

The energy embedded within her flesh gradually awakened.

It crashed into the Asura energy surrounding her qi sea, stirring enormous waves.

A muffled groan escaped her.

The blood she spat out seemed to dampen even the air.

When she opened her eyes, lightning flashed within them before disappearing completely into nothingness.

A strand of white starlight gathered at the tips of her sword-like fingers.

Her hand descended.

That white light, carrying an incomparably sharp aura, swept across the blood-red chain.

Sparks scattered in every direction.

Amid the billowing dust came a faint, low metallic clang—the sound of the chain being lifted and shaken by the current of energy.

Murong Chi’s heart trembled.

In the next instant, a crisp clatter shattered the silence.

The chain fell onto the loose-stone path.

Above the clouds, the eagle’s cry pierced the heavens.

The great eagle beat its blood-soaked wings and spun joyfully through the air.

With a triumphant cry, it spread its wings and soared.

After only a few turns, it vanished from Murong Chi’s sight, flying toward the vast and boundless world.

Murong Chi slowly lowered her head.

A length of blood-red chain lay silently beside her feet.

The wind blew, and dust settled over it in a hazy layer.

In only a moment, nearly all traces of it disappeared.

The shackles connected to the chain still remained around her wrists, but her movements were no longer restricted.

Her body suddenly felt almost weightless.

With a thought, the two broken lengths of blood-red chain disappeared from sight, hidden away from the light of day.

Ming Jing rested one hand against a protruding rock to stabilize herself.

She slowly calmed her breathing and looked at Murong Chi.

Her brows and eyes remained composed, but blood seeped from the corner of her lips.

She was wretched yet breathtakingly beautiful, her breath as faint as a thread.

“The blood-red chain has been severed. The Blood Talisman Formation can no longer imprison you.”

“Murong Chi, you’re free.”

Her voice was very soft.

Her palm had been scraped open with countless tiny wounds and was continuously bleeding, so she did not touch Murong Chi.

She merely lowered her head and made a solemn promise.

“I can only sever this one chain for now.”

“But you don’t need to worry. We can leave this place first.”

“In the future, I’ll help you remove those two shackles as well.”

Murong Chi blinked.

Her tone was puzzled, and her voice had become slightly hoarse.

“That was not part of our transaction.”

Ming Jing had never needed to help her break the chains.

Murong Chi extended a thread of spiritual consciousness.

When she saw the disastrous state of Ming Jing’s qi sea, her eyes narrowed.

A deeply unfamiliar emotion seemed to surge through her heart, leaving her at a loss and making her feel strangely uncomfortable.

Murong Chi disliked the sensation.

She seized Ming Jing’s collar, pulled her into her arms, and held her down with determination in her eyes.

Lowering her head, she kissed Ming Jing’s lips.

The taste of blood immediately filled their mouths, swiftly destroying the faintly intimate atmosphere between them.

The pure essence of an ancient demon flowed through their joined lips and teeth into Ming Jing’s body.

It forcefully suppressed the chaotic Asura energy, compelling it to return reluctantly to her qi sea.

The strand of sword aura fused into her flesh disappeared completely after colliding with the blood-red chain.

When Murong Chi left Ming Jing’s lips, her face had become somewhat pale.

Compared with Ming Jing’s paper-white complexion, however, she still appeared rosy and healthy.

She looked directly into Ming Jing’s eyes and enunciated each word.

“Why did you help me break the chain?”

Naturally, it was because Ming Jing also desperately wanted to leave the bottom of the cliff.

It was because Murong Chi’s utterly lifeless expression had affected her too deeply, striking the final soft place within her heart with perfect precision and making her unable to stop herself from doing or saying something.

Ming Jing lowered her head, her breathing weak.

Yet when she raised her eyes, she offered an entirely different explanation.

Her brows lifted.

Her lips were both bloody and deathly pale, and the smile she pressed onto them was captivating enough to lure someone into ruin.

Words of profound affection came effortlessly from her mouth.

“Naturally, it’s because Miss Murong is worth it.”

Worth what?

Worth risking her life to summon sword aura?

Or worth enduring her injuries and staking everything on one desperate attempt?

Ming Jing did not explain.

Murong Chi did not ask.

As though suddenly recalling something, Murong Chi laughed softly, a faint trace of hostility within it.

“You dare call me Miss Murong now.”

When she had nearly suffered cultivation deviation and lost her mind inside the cavern, she had not missed the panic and astonishment within Ming Jing’s eyes.

Ming Jing had even sacrificed herself and kissed her merely to calm her down.

Ming Jing’s expression remained unchanged.

“You are Murong Chi. Your surname is Murong, and you are a woman. What is wrong with calling you Miss Murong?”

“Or perhaps—”

She leaned closer, her smile exceptionally wicked and infuriating.

“You want me to call you something else?”

“Mu-Mu?”

“Rong-Rong?”

Had Ming Jing become addicted to teasing her?

Murong Chi rolled her eyes.

Seeing Ming Jing gasping with such a tragically pale face, she ultimately did not lose her temper or retaliate.

She studied Ming Jing.

Only after confirming that her qi sea had settled and that the meridians damaged by the fierce sword aura were gradually being repaired by Murong Chi’s essence did she speak with a cold expression.

“If you act on your own again, even if you die in front of this sovereign, I will not save you.”

She had already saved Ming Jing many times.

There would not be another.

She was not running a charity.

Nor was she cultivating the Buddhist path.

She was a calamitous great demon!

Murong Chi smiled coldly.

She stood and took a step toward the outside of the cavern.

When her foot landed firmly upon the ground, she raised her head and looked directly at the sun suspended high above.

The brilliant sunlight reflected within her black eyes.

Her white hair danced like falling snow.

The sun was dazzling, and tears born purely from physical instinct soon gathered within her eyes.

She neither hid nor turned away.

She simply stood there beneath the sunlight.

It cast a shadow behind her, which gradually lengthened as time passed.