From a loser to an immortal sage

Chapter 500 The Challenge Deep in the Cave

The golden light from the sword sheath enveloped my and Wen Chen's shadows, stretching long across the bluestone slab.

Mo Yu's cold laughter still lingered behind me, but Wen Chen loosened his grip on the sword and instead grabbed my wrist: "Go." The warmth of his palm seeped in through my sleeve, like a red-hot iron nail driven into my trembling bones—I had coughed up blood too quickly just now, and my throat still tasted rusty, but compared to the blood mist churning in my sea of ​​consciousness from the jade tablet, this pain was like ashes blown away by the wind.

The stalagmites at the cave entrance shimmered with a bluish hue in the golden light, and the first step I took inside left my shoes covered in a layer of damp moss.

Wen Chen pointed his sword forward half an inch, and icy mist spread along the blade, clearing away the slippery ground beneath my feet. "Watch your step," he said softly, his fingertips gently supporting my lower back—a familiar gesture, just like when we climbed the thirty-three stone steps on Cold Abyss Peak, he was always worried I would slip on the snow.

But at this moment, the moss on the stone steps had an eerie purple hue, and the water seeping from the cracks in the stone was not clear, but dark red, like blood that had been soaked for three hundred years.

"The runes here are very ancient," came the ethereal immortal's voice from the left.

When I turned my head, I saw him tilting his head back, his white eyebrows almost reaching the top of the cave.

His fingertips hovered half an inch away from the stone wall, where a faint blue light floated on the rock surface. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a star map formed by countless fine runes, as thin as hair.

I then realized that the entire stone wall was covered with such patterns, hanging down from the cave ceiling and intertwining on the ground. Even in the cracks of the stone at my feet, there were a few tiny talismans curled up—they seemed to be alive, trembling gently as I approached.

“It’s a blood pact pattern.” Elder Qingfeng had moved to the other side at some point. His black Daoist robe swept across the stone wall, and several runes “hissed” as they shrank into the cracks in the rock.

The elder, who always stroked his long beard and said "Heaven's justice is clear," squinted and tapped the stone wall with his knuckles. "Back then, the Blood Demon's eldest disciple was skilled in this technique, using the essence of living beings as a guide to seal his divine consciousness within the stone." Before he finished speaking, the scabbard on my wrist suddenly became hot, so hot that I gasped—the jade tablet bumped against the wall of my sea of ​​consciousness, as if urging me to do something.

Wen Chen's fingers immediately covered mine. His palms had thin calluses from years of wielding swords, which made my wrists itch. "Does it hurt again?" He looked down at me, the red mole at the corner of his eye shining in the light. "Was the spiritual energy you transferred just now not enough?" I shook my head and grabbed his sleeve with my other hand.

The golden light overflowed from the sword sheath, condensing into a small sun-like spot in my palm, which happened to shine on a curled-up talisman at my feet.

The talisman unfurled with a "whoosh," like a flower suddenly blooming, revealing small characters hidden within: "Wait for the jade tablet to weep, then the returning person will arrive."

“It’s a guiding light,” Zi Ling’s voice drifted from behind.

I turned around and saw her holding a celadon bottle. The medicinal fragrance wafting from the bottle mingled with the damp chill of the cave floor, like mugwort covered in dew in spring.

As she approached, the hem of her skirt brushed against the runes on the ground, and the eerie blue light followed her embroidered shoes, like a swarm of night butterflies following fireflies. "This is a soul-guiding array I saw in the far north," she said, placing the medicine bottle in my hand. Her fingertips trembled slightly as they touched the back of my hand—perhaps she felt the lingering bloodstains. "However... the key to this array isn't in the stone." She pointed to the deepest part of the cave, where it was pitch black, and only the outline of a stone seat could be vaguely seen.

The jade tablet trembled again.

This time I heard a sound, not the buzzing sound of before, but a very soft sob, like a child who has finally found someone to lean on.

I suddenly remembered the sliver of light that peeked through the crack in the tent last night—it wasn't light after all, but the tears it had shed for three hundred years, dripping into the cracks and solidifying into these guiding lamps. "It's waiting for me," I said to Wen Chen, my voice so soft as if afraid of startling someone.

He rubbed his thumb twice on the back of my hand as a response, but the knuckles holding the sword turned even whiter—I knew what he was afraid of: the blood mist in the jade tablet, the backlash when the divine weapon recognized its master, and that my soul would be torn to pieces, just as Mo Yu had said.

"Ah Yao," he suddenly called me, his voice so low that only I could hear it.

Water droplets fell from the cave ceiling, landing on the jade crown in his hair, making a soft splash. "If we wait..." His Adam's apple bobbed, but he swallowed the rest of his sentence.

I tiptoed and touched the corner of his lips—there was still a splatter of blood from when he shielded me from the black fog, salty. “If anything really happens later,” I stroked the stray hairs at the back of his neck, the hair he used to always find troublesome to tie up, “just hold me.”

The ethereal immortal's fingertips suddenly stopped on the stone wall.

His white eyebrows twitched, and his eyes gleamed as he turned: "Found it." He pointed to a stone seat deep within the cave, where a golden light had appeared, as if coating the seat with honey. "The key to this runic array is beneath the stone seat," he said. "When the Blood Demon used the jade tablet to suppress the divine artifact, he left a lock that bound it to its master." His fingertip traced a silver line in the air. "The tears of the jade tablet drew you here; now you need..."

"You need me," I replied.

The jade tablet spun around in my mind's eye. This time, the tremor was filled with a sense of joy, like when I was in the mortal realm and I fed a stray cat on the street corner some dried fish, and it rubbed against my trouser leg.

Wen Chen suddenly tightened his arms and pulled me closer to him.

I could hear his heart pounding in his chest, once, twice, like a drum beating against my heart. "I know," I looked up at him, "but you said I am Xiao Yao, Xiao Yao who climbed up from the mortal realm."

The wind at the bottom of the cave suddenly changed direction.

The azure runes that had been chasing after Zi Ling's skirt suddenly surged toward the stone seat, weaving a net in mid-air.

The golden light on the stone base shone even brighter, and I could even see a shadow moving inside, like a butterfly encased in amber.

The sobbing from the jade tablet grew clearer and clearer, and I realized that the sound was not coming from my sea of ​​consciousness, but from the stone seat, from that shadow—it wasn't crying, but calling for me, calling for the "returning person" who had been calling for three hundred years.

“Let’s go.” I took Wen Chen’s hand and stepped forward.

He still gripped his sword tightly, but his feet followed my every step.

Elder Qingfeng muttered something behind me, but I didn't hear it clearly; the fragrance of Ziling's medicine was swept away by the wind, leaving only a faint sweetness; the white sleeve of the ethereal immortal swept across the stone wall, and several runes shattered with a "crack," like stars falling to the ground.

As the stone base drew closer, I could see the characters carved on it: the two seal characters "镇魔" (Suppress Demons) were completely filled with gold lacquer.

Just then, a deep rumbling sound came from the depths of the cave.

The sound was just like the surging subterranean fire beneath the Cold Abyss Peak, causing water droplets to fall from the cave ceiling with a crackling sound.

My heart tightened, and Wen Chen's sword hummed as it was drawn half an inch from its sheath. The icy blue sword energy enveloped us, freezing the falling water droplets into sparkling ice beads.

The shadow in the stone seat moved even faster, and I could even make out the outline of a sword—it turned out that what was hidden deep in this cave was none other than the true form of a divine artifact that had been suppressed for three hundred years.

The roar made my eardrums ache, and the wisps of hair on the back of my neck were whipped around by the blast wave.

Wen Chen suddenly tightened his grip on my hand, his knuckles almost digging into the lines of my palm—his palm was damp with a thin layer of sweat, a dampness I had never felt before. "Watch out!" he whispered, and I looked up following his gaze, only to meet a pair of scarlet eyes.

It was a stone statue about two people tall, and as it emerged from the deepest shadows of the cave, stone chips fell down in a flurry.

Its chest was engraved with blood-red patterns the same color as the stone wall, and its originally closed eyes split open with two red slits, like poisoned needles piercing my sea of ​​consciousness.

The jade tablet exploded with a burst of white light in my sea of ​​consciousness. I felt a sweet taste in my throat and almost coughed up blood again—but Wen Chen's timely spiritual energy suppressed it.

His spiritual power, carrying the crispness of the snowmelt from Hanyuan Peak, spread along my meridians, even forcing out three-tenths of the sinister aura within the stone statue's oppressive aura.

“They are the Spirit Guards under the Blood Demon’s command.” Elder Qingfeng’s voice trembled, and his black Taoist robe billowed in the air current, revealing the wooden Buddhist beads he never parted with at his waist.

I saw his fingertips rapidly forming hand seals, the prayer beads swirling into a blur in his palm. "Back then, the Blood Demon used living people to sacrifice to refine stone figurines, using their souls as a guide. This thing... it probably recognizes the jade tablet as its master." Before he finished speaking, the stone statue's arm had already swung down, the wind it generated stinging my face.

Wen Chen's sword hummed as it was drawn from its sheath, its icy blue sword energy wrapped in golden light rushing forward—it was a sword that he had nurtured with my spiritual power for a hundred years, and now a semi-transparent jade tablet phantom was condensing on its blade.

"A-Yao!" Zi-Ling's voice came from behind.

When I turned my head, I saw her toss the celadon bottle into the air. The medicinal mist gushing from the bottle's mouth condensed into a pale purple barrier, blocking me from the stone statue.

The medicinal mist made a "sizzling" sound the moment it touched the stone arm, like hot oil being poured on ice—it was a bone-corroding powder she made by mixing the silk of the far northern ice silkworm with the Crimson Flame Flower, specifically designed to break through evil spirits.

The stone statue's arm was corroded into a charred hole, but without even pausing, its other hand was already clenched into a fist and smashed towards Zi Ling.

"Retreat!" Wen Chen's sword drew a semi-circle, and icy mist suddenly rose, pulling Zi Ling to my side.

Taking advantage of the moment, I bit my tongue, and the sweet and pungent blood mixed with the light of the jade tablet sprayed onto the ground—this was the method of "using blood to guide the spirit" that Elder Qingfeng had just mentioned.

The blood-red patterns on the ground suddenly came to life, and a ghostly blue light shot up the stone statue's ankles along my blood lines, like countless small snakes gnawing at the stone body.

The stone statue let out a muffled roar, and amidst the flying stone chips, I saw the blood-stained markings on its chest flicker, revealing a familiar red hue—the light leaking from the cracks in the jade tablet.

"It's looking for the jade tablet!" I grabbed Wen Chen's wrist and guided his sword toward the heart of the stone statue.

Wen Chen immediately understood, and his icy blue sword energy, wrapped in golden light, pierced straight at that spot.

The moment the sword pierced the stone, the statue's red eyes suddenly dimmed, and a sound like a whimper came from its throat.

The jade tablet in my mind's eye trembled even more violently, and this time I heard a clear "crack" sound—the sound of the chains inside the stone statue breaking.

"Break the formation!" The ethereal immortal's white sleeve suddenly swept over our heads, and the talisman he was holding in his fingertips "whooshed" into ashes, condensing into a Bagua diagram on the top of the stone statue's head.

The azure runes that had been chasing Zi Ling's skirt suddenly surged back, following the patterns of the Bagua diagram and drilling into the seven orifices of the stone statue.

The stone statue paused, its stone arm slamming heavily onto the ground, shaking the entire cave.

I took the opportunity to pull out the short blade from my waist. It was woven from the gold thread on Wen Chen's sword tassel, and it was burning hot against my skin.

“Wenlang!” I called out to him.

The moment he turned around, I shoved the dagger into his hand—it was the "Blade of Unity," which I had nurtured for three years with the spiritual power he had given me, specifically designed to break blood pacts.

The red mole at the corner of his eye twitched, and he immediately understood what I meant.

The moment the icy blue sword energy, wrapped in a golden blade, pierced the heart of the stone statue, the jade tablet exploded into a burst of warm light in the sea of ​​consciousness.

I saw the blood-red markings on the stone statue begin to fade, revealing the small characters carved beneath: "Waiting for the returning traveler to break the lock, thus revealing the divine artifact."

"boom--"

The stone statue shattered into countless stone fragments.

The medicinal mist of Zi Ling was still suspended in mid-air when it was hit by the stone chips and scattered into tiny purple specks.

Elder Qingfeng's prayer beads snapped with a "crack," and the wooden beads rolled everywhere. But the moment they touched the stone chips, they emitted blue smoke—it turned out that the stone chips still contained lingering poison.

Wen Chen's sword hung at his side, its tip dripping with pale golden blood—the wound he sustained when he took the punch from the stone statue to protect me.

I reached out to touch his hand, but he grabbed it first and pressed it against his chest. "I'm fine," he said, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded. "Look ahead."

The stone base had risen half a foot at some point, and a crack appeared where the words "Suppress Demons" were originally carved, letting in light that was ten times brighter than before.

I can see what's under the stone base now—it's a sword, its blade shrouded in a layer of blood-red mist, with a silk ribbon that has faded to grayish-white wrapped around its hilt.

I am very familiar with the pattern of that silk ribbon. It is the most common "twin lotus" pattern among embroiderers in the mortal world. When I used to sell embroidery on the street, I always liked to keep two inches of such scraps in a box.

The jade tablet emitted a clear and melodious sound in the sea of ​​consciousness.

This time it wasn't sobbing, but a joyful reunion.

I suddenly remembered the snowy night three hundred years ago, when I was huddled under the altar in a dilapidated temple, shivering from the cold, and picked up a piece of broken jade—it turned out to be no ordinary object, but a guiding light that had accompanied me through two worlds and waited for me for three hundred years.

"Ah Yao." Wen Chen's thumb brushed against the back of my hand. "That's..."

“It’s my sword,” I said softly.

The cracks in the stone base widened, and the blood mist on the sword began to dissipate, revealing the two characters "Yao Guang" carved beneath—a wish I always made to the moon when I was in the mortal realm: "If there is an afterlife, I want to be a light that illuminates the way."

The cave suddenly shook again.

This time, the rumbling wasn't from the stone statue, but came from beneath the stone base, like someone striking a drum that had been covered in dust for three hundred years.

Wen Chen's sword was immediately drawn and placed in front of me.

The medicine bottle in Zi Ling's palm gleamed faintly. Elder Qing Feng bent down to pick up the last Buddhist bead, his fingertips still dusty with stone chips.

The ethereal immortal looked up at the cave ceiling, his white brows furrowed: "This tremor... it's like the earth's veins are awakening."

I stared at the sword under the stone seat, and I could see some tiny shadows still wrapped in the blood mist—was it a memory from three hundred years ago?

It is the faint light of the jade tablet when I was bullied, it is the blush on Wen Chen's ear tips when she first handed me medicine, it is the torn hem of Zi Ling's skirt when she blocked the ice spikes for me at Hanyuan Peak.

The light from the jade tablet suddenly became scorching, and the scabbard on my wrist snapped open with a "click," while the golden light that had enveloped us all the way rushed into the crack in the stone base with a "whoosh."

"Watch out!" Wen Chen wrapped his arm around my lower back and pulled me half a step closer to him.

The crack in the stone seat burst open with a "boom," and blood mist wrapped in golden light gushed out.

The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was the sword called "Yaoguang" rising from its stone base, the silk ribbon on its hilt suddenly turning a vibrant green—just like the first willow branch sprouting in the mortal world in spring.

Beneath the sword, in the deepest shadow of the stone seat, a pair of eyes were slowly opening.