THE XUANWU BARRIER deployed before the Space-Time Gate was their very last line of defense—if the waves broke through here, they would flood the other world behind it.
There is an order to the mortal realm. Should the order collapse, the heavens will render their judgment. All shall return to primordial chaos.
According to the most ancient scrolls, the Space-Time Gate could not be allowed to be torn open to an unmanageable size, or both universes would be inundated by floodwaters, reducing the earth and all that walked upon it to nothingness.
The assembled cultivators were still struggling to wrap their heads around these shocking developments. Many of them knew not what to do but cry. Who could blame them? Precious few could face the apocalypse with any kind of composure. But the two Mei brothers, and the timeworn Xue Meng who'd already lived through Taxian-jun's reign, were different. They'd long anticipated this cataclysm.
"Cultivators specializing in offensive techniques and healing, cross the Space-Time Gate and return to your world," said Mei Hanxue. "Cultivators specializing in defensive techniques, step forward. Follow me to the Xuanwu barrier."
Someone piped up. "What are we doing?"
"Reinforcing it."
The cultivators looked at the barrier, which stretched from the earth all the way into the heavens, then glanced at the roiling waves bearing down on them. Their stomachs clenched in terror.
"Can…can we really keep the water out?" a lady cultivator asked, voice quavering.
Seeing that this lady cultivator had quite a pretty face, Mei Hanxue's eyes curved into roguish crescents. Perhaps everything was a game to him, even life and death. The world was ending, and he still had it in him to tease. "Hmm, hard to say if we can or not, but we'll die for sure if we don't try. Does that scare you, miss?"
The lady cultivator stared at him, speechless.
Mei Hänxue walked over, face stern. "This is no time for flirting."
"It's exactly the time for flirting—or am I supposed to find myself a ghost bride down in hell?"
It was the first time the twins had ever appeared together before a crowd. Seeing that they were, in fact, two brothers—the elder cold as frost, the younger warm as sunshine—the lady cultivator's jaw dropped. "You…you guys are…" she stammered, agog.
Mei Hanxue grinned and batted his lashes at her. "Don't you think I'm the better-looking one?"
The lady cultivator's mouth was still hanging open. "You guys…"
The man with the demeanor of an icy cave turned on his heel and strode to the edge of the Space-Time Gate, sleeves fluttering. His amplified voice reached the ears of everyone in the crowd: "Attack cultivators, step back. Defense cultivators, come forward. Quickly, please."
Someone called out a question: "Even if we block the flood with the Xuanwu barrier, that's only temporary, isn't it? Surely we can't stand here and keep the water out forever?"
"That's right, what if the flood never subsides?"
Mei Hänxue shook his head. "Half of you will block the flood. The other half will close the Space-Time Gate."
Thousands of cultivators fell silent. Close the Space-Time Gate? The great dome of the sky had been torn to tatters, the rift so catastrophic they could see neither its beginning nor its end. The two universes had been wholly melded together. How the hell were they supposed to close the Gate?
As if sensing their unspoken question, Mei Hänxue said, "The Sigil of the Returning Billows."
Deep within the crowd, the young Xue Meng blinked. The name of this spell was familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. He was still pondering when the Xuanji Elder spoke up: "Isn't that…the reversal spell Yuheng invented?"
At this reminder, comprehension dawned on the members of Bitan Manor. Prior to the Heavenly Rift at Butterfly Town, Li Wuxin had brought a gaggle of disciples to demand an explanation from Sisheng Peak. After a series of misunderstandings, Chu Wanning had flatly pronounced that the creator of the Sigil of the Returning Billows was none other than himself.
"The Sigil of the Returning Billows can reverse a spell that's already been cast," said Mei Hänxue.
"Even such an enormous one?" someone asked incredulously.
"No single person could do it," replied Mei Hänxue. "That's why all of you will have to help."
The crowd exchanged glances. Quite a few retreated back toward the Space-Time Gate.
"I haven't got much spiritual energy; I won't be able to hold off the waves."
"Same here. I'm no good with defensive barriers at all!"
They weren't idiots—reinforcing the Xuanwu barrier was dangerous, whereas closing the rift would be easier. All of Sisheng Peak and Taxue Palace had stepped forward, along with some brave young volunteers from other sects. But a good number shrank back, crowding behind the rip in the sky.
Mei Hänxue glared at the cowards, his grim expression darkening further. "If everyone plans to hide in the back, who will protect us in the front?"
This scenario was all too common. In any all-out battle between two armies, everyone knew death was imminent if the front lines fell, but they still hoped to be stationed at the rear. They were at an impasse.
Jiang Xi's voice rang out. "I will."
Seeing their leader come forward, Guyueye's cultivators looked around, then joined him in approaching the Xuanwu barrier. Healers had the weakest spiritual energy among the ten great sects. Guyueye stepping out was like a slap in the face to those faint-hearted bastards.
"I know a few defensive techniques. I can pitch in," said Zhen Congming from Bitan Manor. He walked to the front and took a spot at the Guyueye cultivators' side, hugging his sword in silence.
Bit by bit, their ranks swelled. And though their numbers were far from sufficient, they couldn't tarry. The first wave was swelling on the horizon.
"Quickly!" called Mei Hanxue. "Ziming, cross over the Gate and cast the Sigil of the Returning Billows. Everyone else, come up to the Xuanwu barrier with me; get ready to reinforce it." He stepped up to the enormous, translucent barrier and pressed his palms against it. "Activate!"
Soon, many more pairs of hands joined his on this last boundary between worlds. Countless streams of spiritual energy—blue, green, red—converged upon the barrier wedged between earth and sky. Gradually, the image of a snake entwined with a tortoise began to glow in the night. The creature's tail coiled on the rocky ground as it stretched its head toward the heavens. The assembled cultivators had managed to activate the seal of the Xuanwu that powered this protective barrier.
The first of the towering waves churned up by the Primordial Phoenix surged before them, mightier than a thousand galloping horses or the Yellow River roaring toward the sea. They stared at that muddy yellow crest, every muscle in their bodies strained taut.
Mei Hanxue called. "Get ready, it's close—"
And then the enormous wave was upon them, rising a thousand feet into the air. Violent spray misted their vision.
"Steady!"
The wave rivaled the legendary beasts in its fury. Even the Xuanwu barrier couldn't withstand its power: A few spots, weaker in spiritual energy, cracked. Water streamed through fissures like arrow wounds. Several of the weaker cultivators faltered under the impact; they fell to their knees, coughing up blood.
"We need more people!" Jiang Xi barked at the group behind them.
But now that they'd witnessed the force of the waves, even fewer were willing to step forward.
Behind them, Xue Meng was drawing the last strokes of the Sigil of the Returning Billows. When he struck the array in midair, bolts of lightning crackled behind it and spiderwebbed out toward the edges of the Space-Time Gate. Like the cultivators pooling their power to hold off the flood, those in the rear channeled their energy into the sigil, striving to pull the gaping hole between the two universes closed. But the rift was so vast they couldn't see its ends; no one could tell whether its borders were shrinking. They watched and waited, sick with anxiety.
Progress with the rift was slow, while those in the vanguard were quickly reaching their limits. As a second wave crashed against the barrier, more cultivators collapsed, unable to continue. The Xuanwu barrier cracked again, and water rushed over those behind it. Jiang Xi and the others quickly found their robes soaked.
"We can't go on like this," said Mei Hänxue. "The Xuanwu barrier will shatter before the Space-Time Gate is closed."
His proclamation was met with an awful silence.
The clatter of hoofbeats reached their ears. Turning, they spied a group of wandering cultivators and commoners approaching, the cultivators on swords and the commoners on horseback. The two figures in the lead came into focus. One was clad in fitted black robes, her features elegant—Ye Wangxi. The other was a middle-aged woman, slightly unsteady on her sword. She was clad in vibrantly colored finery and wore a dazzling assortment of gold ornaments in her upswept hair—this was the richest merchant of Flying Flower Isle, Third Lady Sun.
A dense crowd trailed behind them, dust billowing in their wake. They seemed to have brought all the refugees they could—men and women, young and old alike.
Ye Wangxi leapt gracefully from her sword. "We saw the commotion from miles off," she said, frowning. "We heard what happened on the way here."
Her gaze swept over the crowd and fixed upon the failing Xuanwu barrier, then swung to the cultivators in the rear who, despite having spiritual energy to spare, had declined to help.
As long as there were heroes who were courageous despite their frailty, there too would be cowards who were fearful despite their strength. A person's soul and body weren't necessarily well-matched. Ye Wangxi ground her teeth in contempt. "What a waste of talent—you cultivators don't even have the mettle of these commoners!" Using qinggong, she soared lightly through the air and landed next to Jiang Xi, pressing her palms to the barrier.
She wasn't the only one. The wandering cultivators and even commoners who had followed her hurried forward to lend a hand, no matter how weak they were. Even the most thick-skinned of those shrinking at the back were shamed by the sight.
"I… I'll help too."
"Forget it, death is death—I'm coming too!"
"Me too, me too!"
The throng before the Xuanwu barrier continued to grow. The tortoise and snake array that had dimmed and flickered now gleamed with renewed brilliance.
The third wave slammed into them. Then the fourth. They were fighting against the heavens, battling fate itself.
"Look!" A girl's sharp shout pierced the air. "Is that the edge of the Space-Time Gate?"
Her words broke over the crowd like a thunderclap. Trembling, everyone turned to look in the direction she pointed. Sure enough, at the edge of the horizon, the far end of the rift was faintly visible. It was moving slowly but surely toward the center of the sky as the black tear in the heavens shrank.
"Hurry! Faster, faster!" someone yelled through tears. "We're doing it! It's going to close!"
It was a clear sign of hope. The eyes of those working the reversal spell shone once more with the desire to live. Everyone pressed their palms together, channeling their spiritual energy into the Sigil of the Returning Billows.
The Space-Time Gate drew together, inch by painstaking inch.
But the might of the heavens was beyond mortal measure. Although thousands joined their efforts, pouring everything they had into the protective barrier, it was still no match for the power of the gods. These humans were hardly more than ants, paltry and insignificant.
As yet another white-capped wave slammed into them, there was a brittle cracking sound. A fracture like a bolt of lightning snaked down the middle of the Xuanwu barrier. The crack stretched from the sky all the way down to the earth, beads of water seeping through all along its length.
The cultivators paled. If the barrier failed now—
The colossal boom of an earth-shattering explosion knocked them back. Torrents of water rushed in through the rupture, drowning the cultivators' desperate screams as they were swept off their feet.
"Ahh!"
"Help!"
The deluge poured in like a squalling tempest. The older Xue Meng glanced back at the Xuanwu barrier from the other side of the Space-Time Gate. "We have to close it faster!" he called out, muscles standing out on his jaw.
Someone was rushing toward him with a gleaming silver sword in hand. He started as he recognized his younger self. The older Xue Meng grabbed his other self by the shoulder. "Get back!" he ordered with a scowl. "You know nothing about defensive barriers!"
"I have to give this back to him," the younger Xue Meng replied through gritted teeth.
"Who?"
His younger self pointed to a sickly pale Jiang Xi, who was depleting himself to shore up the barrier without the support of his holy weapon.
"Jiang Yechen? Why do you have his sword?"
The younger Xue Meng's eyes widened. "You don't know?"
Xue Meng shook his head. "I never knew him. He died long ago in our timeline." His eyes were distant. He'd been struggling so long just to survive. His memories of the time before war broke out—when everyone was still alive—were no longer clear.
The older Xue Meng thought for a moment, gaze fixed on Jiang Xi's green-clad figure. "Years ago, Taxian-jun demanded he hand over Guyueye's secret scrolls. The techniques in them were as powerful as they were sinister: things like refining pills from the flesh of Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feasts and dual-cultivation methods used to pursue eternal life."
A strange expression flitted across his younger self's face at the mention of dual cultivation. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," came the reply. There was a pause. "And then?"
"Jiang Xi refused. He said the scrolls were evil. On the day he'd become sect leader, he'd burned them all."
His younger self was silent, so Xue Meng continued. "Taxian-jun was furious. He ordered Jiang Xi to write out another copy. Jiang Xi would do no such thing—so Taxian-jun killed him." Xue Meng closed his eyes. "Jiang Yechen is a hero. I'm happy to see he's still alive in another world."
The older Xue Meng opened his eyes and glanced downward. "You didn't answer me. Why do you have his sword?"
The younger Xue Meng opened his mouth uncertainly. "I…"
It was all he managed before another hair-raising crack split the air. Their eyes flew to the barrier, perilously close to failing. Ye Wangxi and Mei Hanxue had both sunk to their knees. Jiang Xi remained on his feet but spat a mouthful of blood.
"Jiang…" the younger Xue Meng began. Jiang what? Was he still going to call him Jiang Xi? Or should he call him Jiang-zhangmen?
Leaving the name half unsaid, he pelted over and thrust Xuehuang at Jiang Xi.
When he caught sight of him, Jiang Xi's already wan complexion grew uglier. "Fuck off!" He shoved Xue Meng backward, along with his own holy weapon. "Stay by the rift and don't come looking for trouble!" He choked up more blood.
"Jiang Yechen!"
Hearing Xue Meng call him by his courtesy name, Jiang Xi coughed harder. He shot a glance over his shoulder, panting, the bright ferocity in his eyes concealing a seething storm of emotions. "Fucking hell… Who said you could call me that?" Jiang Xi snapped. "Keep my names—my given name and my courtesy name—out of your mouth."
Jiang Xi's teeth were scarlet with blood, and tendons bulged in his neck from the strain of maintaining the barrier against the onslaught. Nevertheless, he made sure to slap Xue Meng with the very same admonishment he'd delivered upon their very first meeting: "Insolent whelp!"
A series of deafening groans came from the barrier. Xue Meng had no time to speak or think before Xuehuang, still clutched in his hand, dragged him backward. The jagged fracture splintered, enormous chunks of the barrier breaking off at its edges. Water poured in like a river.
Everyone standing on the other side of the Space-Time Gate felt a chill race down their spine. It was over. The apocalypse was nigh—all would return to formless desolation. Some fell to their knees, abandoning the Sigil of the Returning Billows. Before heaven's judgment, they sobbed and kowtowed like the basest of servants, begging the gods for mercy. They raised their heads to the sky and screamed the unfairness of their fate, tears and snot streaming down their faces.
The world was at an end.
A beam of jade-green light speared through the sky overhead.
"Did you see that?"
"What's going on?"
The cultivators were in the most desperate of straits; even the smallest change made them tremble, to say nothing of such a dramatic development. Everyone's heads snapped up to see a man clad in black-and-gold battle armor burst out of the sky on his sword. As he drew closer, they could see he was covered in wounds, as though someone had tried to execute him via a thousand fine cuts. Despite his injuries, the vestiges of his good looks were unmistakable.
"It's… Mo…Mo Ran?"
"That monster!"
"Oh balderdash, what do you mean, monster? It's clearly Mo-zongshi!" Ma Yun of Taobao Estate crowed. Even an idiot could see Mo Ran was here to save them, not to make things worse. And—they realized as the sword drew closer—he'd even brought the Beidou Immortal Chu Wanning, who'd been missing for ages.
"Chu-zongshi!"
The cries went up immediately. It was the creator of the Sigil of the Returning Billows, the foremost zongshi in all the land. The cultivators of Taobao Estate were frantic with excitement—like their leader, they feared death more than anyone. "We're saved! We're saved!" they yelled, jumping and waving their hands.
Mo Ran rode the wind, robes rippling beneath his fitted leather armor. He dropped down before the Xuanwu barrier, landing nimbly on a wave. "Jiangui, Ten Thousand Coffins!" he bellowed.
Thousands of willow vines erupted from the earth and wrapped around all those injured and struggling under the crush of the water—among them Ye Wangxi, Third Lady Sun, and a grim-faced Jiang Xi—and whipped them backward, out of danger. Mo Ran turned and barked orders: "I need reinforcements to get their asses up here! Where are the fresh defense cultivators?" As his eyes raked over Jiang Xi, anger darkened his voice. "How did a healer zongshi end up on the front lines? Are you looking to die?"
The defense cultivators shirking their duty turned ashen with embarrassment.
A bright beam shot from Taxian-jun's palm and rippled through the barrier. "Once we've taken care of this little leak here," he growled, baring his teeth, "this venerable one will find every last one of you chickenshit bastards and personally crush your skulls."
The crowd exchanged terrified glances.
"I said, get your asses to the front!"
Maybe Taxian-jun was just that terrifying, or maybe these cultivators who so treasured their own lives had finally gotten their priorities straight. Even the wretched remnants of Jiangdong Hall stepped forward. Almost the entire group came to stand behind Taxian-jun and raised their palms to the Xuanwu barrier.
The flickering barrier immediately began to glow with a steady light once more. With the combined strength of the crowd and the mightiest cultivator in the mortal realm, the barrier's light became so brilliant they were blinded.
A monstrous wave rushed toward them, like a waterspout sweeping up the sea. The most stout-hearted cultivators had already fallen back; their more cowardly fellows swallowed nervously, knees quaking.
"Nobody move a muscle," Taxian-jun warned. "Or this venerable one will make sure you never see another sunrise."