Chapter 521 Exploring the Far West
His gaze was piercing, sweeping over the three demon lords and Hua Tianyou one by one:
"Moon Demon Lord, Blood Demon Lord, Flame Demon Lord, Heaven Demon Lord, you four, together with the Twelve Venerables, will lead the followers to open a passage between the Heavenly Demon Sect and the far west!"
The emperor's command is as firm as a mountain, my blood boils with passion.
Inside the main hall, there was a deathly silence.
Immediately following was a volcanic eruption-like boiling.
Four top experts, four pairs of eyes, stared intently at Shen Mo, their eyes burning with the same flame—a yearning for his achievements, and absolute obedience to the Heavenly Demon God.
Hua Tianyou knelt down on one knee first, slamming his right fist heavily into his chest with a muffled thud: "Yes, sir! Your subordinate will certainly not fail in your trust!"
His eyes gleamed with excitement. He had walked this path twice before, step by step. Now, he would carry the glory of the Heavenly Demon Sect and utterly crush it, allowing the Heavenly Demon Sect to completely dominate the far west!
The Moon Demon Lord took a deep breath, and a breathtaking smile finally bloomed on her usually aloof face. She knew that this was Shen Mo's trust in her, and also her moment to prove her worth.
"Moon Demon Lord, obey!" Her voice was cold, yet carried an undeniable firmness.
The Blood Demon Lord simply nodded heavily and uttered two words: "As you command."
His silence was more powerful than any vow.
Finally, there is the Flame Demon Lord.
He knelt abruptly, his fists bracing the ground, his forehead slamming heavily against the cold obsidian. His voice, hoarse yet resounding, boomed: "Your subordinate obeys! If the road is impassable, I am willing to cripple myself and resign from the position of Flame Demon Lord!"
The twelve venerable masters followed closely behind, shouting in unison, "We are willing to follow the Demon Lord and open up the far west!"
The sound waves surged like a tide, breaking through the dome of the Heavenly Demon Palace and soaring into the sky.
Shen Mo stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at the group of subordinates who were determined to follow him to the death, and at the majestic Heavenly Sword Ridge outside the Heavenly Demon Palace.
He didn't say anything more.
Not long after, the four demon lords and the twelve venerable ones left the Heavenly Demon Palace.
Shen Mo, alone, entered the Demon Refining Mountain with the Heavenly Demon Totem, heading towards the cave that would change his life forever.
Inside the cave, everything remained unchanged. The moss on the stone walls, the dust on the ground, and even the faint scent of ancient times in the air were all the same.
Time seemed to flow backward at this moment, and he seemed to see the scene where he absorbed the demonic energy here back then.
Shen Mo walked to the jade lampstand in the center of the space and slowly squatted down. He gently placed the Heavenly Demon Totem beside it, his movements as gentle as if he were placing a sleeping baby.
He ran his fingertips over the cold runes on the totem, and he could feel the vastness and loneliness contained within them.
This is not merely an artifact; it is the culmination of the lifelong martial arts of the first Heavenly Demon God, Xuanyuan Ling, an echo that spans a thousand years, and a silent entrustment to those who come after.
"Senior Xuanyuan," Shen Mo murmured, his voice echoing softly in the empty cave, "I have glimpsed a part of your Dao. This path will not be severed here."
After saying that, he closed his eyes and focused his mind on his dantian.
The demonic energy within him, which had long been intertwined with his flesh and blood, rose up like a dormant black dragon in response to the call.
It was not violent or raging, but rather flowed gently along his meridians, eventually converging in his palm.
A wisp of jet-black, yet pure aura slowly emanated from his fingertips, like ink with life, quietly seeping into the Heavenly Demon Totem.
This aura is proof of the Heavenly Demon God, his understanding of the "Heavenly Demon God Technique," and a guiding light he lit for future Heavenly Demon Gods.
When that wisp of demonic energy merged into the totem, the entire totem suddenly lit up, its runes shining like stars, before quickly dimming and returning to its ancient appearance.
But Shen Mo knew that it was different now. It was no longer just a cold stone pillar, but a living monument of inheritance, quietly waiting for the next soul that could resonate with it.
After doing all this, Shen Mo stood up and took one last look at the cave dwelling that had witnessed his transformation.
His eyes were calm and deep, showing no trace of lingering affection.
He turned around, and his figure quickly disappeared into the cave, leaving only silence inside and the Heavenly Demon Totem that silently guarded the future of the Heavenly Demon God Sect.
......
The scene shifts to the Central Plains.
Two years have passed! The martial arts world of the Central Plains has long been accustomed to the days without the "Sword God".
In the taverns and teahouses of Nanjing, the legends about him have never ceased.
Some say the Sword God died of a terminal illness; others say he grew weary of the conflicts of the martial world and retired to the mountains, no longer concerning himself with worldly affairs; still others claim to have personally witnessed him in seclusion on a certain summit, his sword aura soaring to the heavens, comprehending an invincible divine skill.
Regardless of the version of events, they all point to the same ending—the Sword God, the legend who once single-handedly turned the tide and saved the martial arts world of the Central Plains, has vanished from this land.
His name has become a legend in people's mouths and an aspiration in the hearts of the younger generation, but it is no longer a part of the real world.
Under Situ Dengfeng's leadership, the Martial Arts Alliance's prestige grew daily.
The martial arts world, which was once turbulent due to the machinations of evil overseas practitioners, is now peaceful and tranquil.
The various sects exchanged information and resources, and the young disciples practiced martial arts, discussing how to improve themselves rather than how to guard against external enemies.
On the ruins of Diancang, some merchants have even begun to rebuild inns, preparing to welcome a steady stream of tourists.
Everything seemed so beautiful, so stable, as if that thrilling battle was just a distant nightmare.
However, beneath this seemingly impregnable peace, a colder and more deadly undercurrent is quietly surging from the depths of the imperial city, thousands of miles away.
The Forbidden City, the Qianqing Palace.
The new emperor, Zhao Yan, stood with his hands behind his back by the window, gazing at the peonies blooming in the imperial garden.
He was only in his early twenties, with a handsome face, yet his brows revealed a composure and sharpness beyond his years.
The sunlight shone on his bright yellow dragon robe, but it could not dispel the chilling aura emanating from him.
"Two years..." he muttered to himself, his voice low, yet it sent chills down the spines of the several imperial guards standing behind him with their hands at their sides. "That man named Shen Mo seems to have vanished into thin air."
He slowly turned around, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the hall.
These were all his carefully selected confidants, nurtured with countless precious treasures and elixirs, each capable of establishing their own sect in the martial world. However, whenever they recalled the title of "Sword God" and his imposing figure that had defeated the Divine Emperor with his sword, even these masters standing at the pinnacle of worldly martial arts couldn't help but feel a hint of awe in their eyes.
This sense of awe was the deepest thorn in Zhao Yan's heart.
He knew from a young age that all land under heaven belonged to the king.
But this world of martial arts has always remained outside the realm of imperial power.
The Martial Arts Alliance commands heroes and its influence can even sway the decisions of local governments.
They have their own laws, their own order, and their own leaders. For a new emperor who has only been on the throne for two years, and for a monarch aspiring to establish a great dynasty that will last for millennia, this is undoubtedly intolerable.
"When my father was on the throne, he was very tolerant of the Martial Alliance, regarding it as a bulwark for stabilizing the realm." Zhao Yan's voice gradually turned cold. "But now, the country is peaceful and prosperous, the borders are free of war, and the realm is stable. This bulwark has become a poisonous thorn stuck in my heart!"
He slammed his fist on the rosewood table beside him, and the hard wood was dented by the impact.
As his inner energy surged, the memorials on the table scattered all over the floor with a clatter.