Chapter 189: Phantom Projection

Over the next few months, Jiuyou rarely stepped outside. Ge Jingyuan visited a few times; his last visit was to ask if Jiuyou needed any manpower or would consider opening the peak to accept disciples. Jiuyou declined it all, using his preference for peace and quiet as an excuse.

Ge Jingyuan smiled and said, "Junior Brother, you actually bear some resemblance to Martial Uncle Jinli."

He added that if their martial uncle had been willing to take in disciples back then, Ember Sword Peak would not have sat empty for a thousand years without a single successor. Jiuyou only smiled, offering no reply.

He knew there was a hidden meaning behind Ge Jingyuan's words. This likely wasn't just his idea, but the intent of the Eldest Senior Brother who had yet to show his face. Taking in disciples was a way to plant personnel, but also a way to leave behind a legacy for the sect.

But he had yet to even condense his Sword Intent; agreeing rashly would only expose his flaws. To avoid raising suspicions, he eventually relented, saying he would consider taking a few disciples if he had the time later on. Ge Jingyuan seemed to have gotten the answer he wanted and didn't stay much longer.

After the man left, Jiuyou sank back into the underground divine restriction. He stayed there for over half a year. He was no longer in a rush to comprehend those sword marks, nor did he try to seek shortcuts from the traces Perfected Jinli had left behind.

He began asking himself a question: what was his own sword? He had seen Old Man Wave Chaser's day-to-day persistence, heard of the Dao that Perfected Jinli pursued his entire life, and even spent ten years in Haoyang Alley watching countless mortals walk through their lives in their own ways. Everyone had a place they were going. Cultivator or mortal, even if the gap between them was like that of a mayfly and the blue sky, they all had their own directions.

But what was his own direction?

He suddenly realized he hadn't thought about this question in a very long time. He sat within the divine restriction, surrounded by six stone walls covered in sword marks, in a space as quiet as a tomb. He sat there for a long time, as if waiting for an answer to walk out on its own.

Then he remembered. When he first arrived in this world, he too had been filled with hot-blooded passion, wanting to slay demons, defend the Dao, and accomplish something world-shaking.

Later, as he saw more, he slowly understood that such a way of living didn't work in the Cultivation World. He began learning to be what a cultivator should be, changing step by step—from his temperament to his methods, from his choices to his sacrifices—walking all the way to the present.

He had been the ancestor of Soul Wraith Island, and the Demon Venerable spoken of by the Demonic Path Alliance. Later, he became the rogue cultivator Qing You, and now he was the sixth Supreme Elder of Daoyang Sect. He had changed identities, cultivation methods, and his Natal Magic Treasure. He had even changed his temperament. But he knew the thing he wanted most had never changed.

To become stronger.

Strong enough to dictate his own fate. Strong enough that no one could trample him underfoot.

Eternal life.

To live. To keep living, until he could see what truly lay at the end of this path.

These two things were what he had wanted from the very beginning. Nobody had told him to want them; he had forged this path step by step himself.

He touched his chest. His heartbeat was steady and powerful. That film of confusion which had plagued him for so long seemed to have been gently pierced by those words, opening a tiny hole.

Those sword marks remained, but in this moment, he finally stopped questioning them. He closed his eyes, as if listening to that voice in his heart—a voice that had just settled, more real than any of the sword marks.

Several months later.

'Break.'

Jiuyou commanded inwardly. An Ember Moon Sword shot out in response, crashing straight into the Spirit-Restricting Treasure before him. The tip sank about ten cun into the stone face, sending sparks flying.

He glanced at the fissure, his expression unchanged. "Not enough."

With another thought, bursts of golden light flared behind him. One Ember Moon Sword after another shot forth, tracing arcs through the air to smash precisely into the spot struck by the first sword.

The third, fourth, fifth... forty-two Ember Moon Swords formed up in sequence, converging before the stone wall into a high-speed, spinning golden top. With their tips pointing inward, they drove forward madly like a drill.

But this spinning top was different from before. What drove it was no longer pure magical power, but rather gossamer-thin threads of golden Sword Intent wrapped around every blade. Like invisible tow lines, they linked all forty-two swords into one.

Through months of bitter training, he had not only condensed his Sword Intent, but his progress had been much faster than expected. The residual Sword Intent in those marks and the Sword Dao texts he had read in the past clicked into place once he comprehended his own Sword Intent. His understanding of the Sword Dao had taken a clear leap in just a few short months. While he couldn't be considered a true master, he was no longer an outsider looking in.

Under continuous bombardment over the past few days, a hole over twenty zhang deep had been drilled into the stone wall. Now, the searing heat seeping through the wall grew increasingly intense. It felt as if something were waiting behind the stone, blocked for over a millennium by this layer of Spirit-Restricting Treasure.

Jiuyou recalled the final Ember Moon Sword and focused as he gripped it in his palm. A thin line formed entirely of golden Sword Intent flashed along the edge of the blade.

He raised his arm and swung the sword, his movements entirely natural. An incredibly fine golden sword thread glided silently across the stone surface. The moment the thread touched it, the last layer of the Spirit-Restricting Treasure split with a perfectly smooth cut, then shattered, revealing the space behind it.

The hidden chamber was not large, but it was blindingly bright. A wave of heat surged out from within, instantly filling the entire underground space.

Standing in the doorway, Jiuyou looked at the source of the golden light, his gaze pausing slightly. It was a block of Jinli Stone, three zhang square, quietly embedded in the center of the stone chamber. It looked as if someone had placed it there intentionally.

He took a few steps forward and touched the ore's surface. The heat against his fingertips proved this was no illusion. He quickly swept it into his Storage Pouch, and only then did the heat wave in the stone chamber slowly recede.

The hidden chamber was not entirely empty. Behind where the Jinli Stone had originally been, a stone table was revealed. A thin layer of dust covered its surface, and sitting right in the center was a jade pendant.

Just as Jiuyou was about to step forward for a closer look, a streak of flowing golden light suddenly flared from the jade pendant. The light twisted and gathered, condensing into a phantom projection above it.

The figure wore a loose robe patterned in white gold. He had greying temples, slightly prominent cheekbones, and a posture as steady as a mountain—like someone who had sat down and never planned to move again. Jiuyou stopped in his tracks. His gaze lingered on the phantom for a moment. There were no soul fluctuations; it was merely a carefully preserved residual image.

As if sensing the newcomer's gaze, the phantom projection lowered its head slightly. Its line of sight fell in Jiuyou's direction, as though piercing through time itself.

A calm, elderly voice drifted from the phantom. It spoke at an unhurried pace, as if it had been waiting for many years.

"Youngster, perhaps you have already realized that this is nothing but a residual image. When I left this mountain peak a thousand years ago, I left this item here to await whoever came next..."

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