Chapter 482 - Realm in Chaos (VIII)

Chapter 482

Realm in Chaos (VIII)

The tide was endless.

Though thousands culled tens of thousands of shadows, they kept reappearing, and they kept pushing forward. The border between life and death had shrunk considerably in just a few days, and those still in any shape to fight had dwindled down to less than a thousand.

Even among them, most had suffered one or another injury, and all were slowly running out of Qi.

Despair hung above like a dark, wretched cloud until a shriek of light broke through--in a more literal sense than usual.

While the world stared aghast, a young boy underwent a breakthrough in the midst of fighting--in fact, he was swinging his sword whilst breaking through. The conventional wisdom to find a safe, isolated space, prepare for a full thirty days, and ensure no disturbances completely collapsed as the world watched him reach the next realm with such ease they felt it was a mirage, that they'd made it up in their despair.

... but it was real.

His breakthrough was like a second wind to the dying flame, sweeping out thunderously. But that was all it was--a second wind.

Though there was endless valiance, the reality of their situation settled back in rather quickly.

"Alright, I'm finished," Wan Lan announced as she stood up, cracking her neck and knuckles.

"Haah, there truly isn't an end to them," Dai Xiu said as she looked over toward the swarm gnawing away at the border. Everyone had retreated collectively, giving way to a few yards in order to recover as much as possible.

"Just think of it as practice," Wan Lan said. "Don't you feel your arts becoming more and more polished?"

"... most of the others are on the verge of breaking down," Rayce said. "I was watching, and, truthfully, there are perhaps fifteen people, you included, who are holding the line. The rest may as well be decorations."

"Hm," Wan Lan nodded. "It's fine. If we endure long enough, either Master or that bastard of our Senior Brother will come. They'll fix whatever this is."

"They don't have to," Light suddenly spoke up, causing the rest to look over at her.

"Why do you say that?"

"Haven't you noticed?" she said. "The number of shadows... is fewer."

"... hm? Are you sure? The sea looks about the same to me," Dai Xiu said.

"Same," Wan Lan nodded. "Little Zhao, what about you?"

"Uh... I'm not sure," he said, uncertain. "Maybe?"

"There are," Light reiterated with seemingly absolute certainty.

"She's right," a voice startled them as they whipped their heads to the side where a rather handsome man stood. "Forgive my rudeness; my name is Zhan Qiu of the Deathless Phoenix Sect. I just happened to overhear Junior's words, and it made me curious. To think she was right."

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"... there really are fewer shadows?" Wan Lan asked. The man in front of them was practically the only other cultivator on their side to have meaningfully helped. No... he held down even larger parts of the line than they did.

"Not by a meaningful amount," he replied. "But yes, there are certainly fewer. It means one of two things: either we have killed them so much that we have finally started chewing away at their numbers... or something else has happened to cause them to stop regenerating."

"..." Everyone fell silent for a moment, as though mulling over something, before collectively--as though having practiced beforehand--saying, "Must be the second."

"E-eh?" Zhan Qiu stuttered at their response as they looked at each other and smiled meaningfully.

Their Master!

The thought resonated inside his mind immediately--of course! There was no way he was going to let his Disciples die. As such, he must have intervened elsewhere when he saw that their chances of survival were growing slimmer and slimmer. Just enough to give them a chance to survive...

"Right," he coughed awkwardly, covering his mouth with a fist. "I should go back to my post. Let us have a drink together once we leave this forsaken place."

"Of course, Senior," Wan Lan quickly said, bowing toward the man who smiled, nodded, and left. She sighed, looking around at the kids who were eyeing her--well, except for Rayce. "Keep it to yourselves. Let's go, too."

The battle resumed--and within an hour, shouts started ringing out from every direction.

"Their numbers are thinning out!"

"We're... we're winning! We're finally winning!"

"Hold! Just a bit longer! Just hold on!!!"

What was an unending swarm stretching out a mile became a small army, and then a smaller one, and then a smaller one.

As flashes of light and aftershocks of Qi slowly stretched out across the world, the dwindling shadows dwindled to the last few dozen.

The gash in the world was down to the last square mile or so, with barely any room for the remaining survivors. There were a few hundred, most of whom were rather severely hurt.

"... wonderful," a voice rang out across the sky like a discordant melody, almost, causing everyone to frown. "This generation is truly, truly wonderful."

Everyone looked up, where they saw a familiar woman floating midair, air about her distorting.

"It's, it's the former Holy Maiden!"

"Wasn't she the one to throw us into this place?!!"

"That crazy bitch! Just you wait! Once we're outside, our Sect Master will wipe you from this world!!!" Though the voice came from the crowd, the thin thread of light seemed to find the source just fine--it tore through the distance between the two and blew the head up into a shower of blood, gore, and skull bones.

"AAGHH!!" screams rang out as everyone ran, turning quiet.

"It was supposed to be glorious," she said. "And yet... you've ruined it. For that, you must pay."

Dozens upon dozens of other figures suddenly appeared--some up like her, and some on the ground. They weren't shadows; rather, they were all cultivators, and even the weakest one seemed to be in the Revolving Core Realm.

"Amitābha, Fellow Daoist," a calm and somewhat indifferent voice rang out as a figure draped in white robes slowly began to float up. A golden halo of light surged out of him and began to distort the world in much the same way the woman was doing it above him. "Your Dao weeps, its tears soaking the world. It is a deeply sorrowful melody, like a child's cry for their mother."

"... who gave you permission to speak?" She formed an array of light yet again and attacked, but, unlike the time before, the man caught it between his fingers and pressed them together, shattering it. "Oh? Who might you be?"

"Merely a child of Dao, like everyone here," he said, smiling faintly. "Today, the heavens have wept for how many children died unnecessarily. You have stained your soul, but it is not beyond salvation yet; Dao forgives and accepts, and it washes our souls pure. Amitābha, make the right decision, dear Maiden."

"And if I don't?" she asked rather callously.

"Then I must make it for you."

"Oh? Pfft, ha ha ha," she broke into laughter. "My, my. It seems I have truly been forgotten by the world. Child, do you know what they used to call me?"

"Torrential Chaos," he said.

"You do know. And you still dare stand up against me?"

"We all do what we must per our Dao," he said, clasping his palms together in front of his chest as golden beads appeared around them. "This one is known as Song Jing, a humble Monk and a Child of Dao. Let us end this madness, dear maiden."

"... hmm. Indeed. Let us end it. I will entertain this clown," she said. "You lot kill them. Kill them all. Wash this filthy land with their blood. Let their screams be the symphony as I do the one thing I never dared before: kill a Monk of the Samsara Valley."