The Human Dao Patriarch!
Li Qingqiu's eyes widened slightly as he read the line describing Yang Xuan's Fate.
So, if he hadn't come across him, Yang Xuan would have been the one to encounter the opportunity within the low-level monster realm.
Yang Xuan truly was a man of great destiny—perhaps even one fated to alter the course of heaven and earth itself.
Li Qingqiu had encountered many with rare and powerful Fates before—each of them extraordinary in potential. Yet if those people could not set foot on the path of immortality, their Fates were like empty promises: dormant, unrealized, and meaningless until death.
But Yang Xuan was different. He could discover the immortal path on his own.
Throughout history, there had always been geniuses with the aptitude for cultivation. But the world itself lacked a true path to immortality. If Yang Xuan could open that path—allowing future talents to fulfill their destined potential—then indeed, he deserved to be called the Patriarch of the Human Dao.
Talent was important, but so was timing and fortune.
And besides, without the Dao Lineage interface, Li Qingqiu would never have noticed the unique nature of such people. It reminded him that hidden potential existed in everyone. Mingguang, for example, had no special Fate, yet he was the first to invent the Spirit-Gathering Array.
Another thought struck him: to open the monster realm required spirit stones. Didn't that imply that Mount Tianji hid a spiritual vein or mine beneath it?
The more he considered it, the more he felt this Fortune Opportunity ran deeper than he'd initially believed.
Yang Xuan walked up to them, his steps steady. He wasn't tall, but his build was solid, with thick brows and honest, clear eyes—his face radiated a simple, good-natured air.
"When will you come out?" he asked curiously.
Li Qingqiu closed the Dao Lineage interface and smiled. "By tomorrow morning, most likely. You can wait for us outside. We'll find you when we return."
Yang Xuan hesitated, then said, "Why don't I come with you? I've never gone into Mount Tianji, but I hunt around here all the time. I know the terrain well."
Li Qingqiu shook his head. "No need. What we're dealing with inside isn't ordinary game. You'd only slow us down. Wait for us here."
With that, he turned and started toward the dense forest ahead.
Li Dongyue called back kindly, "Don't worry, we'll come find you."
Then she followed her elder brother, and within moments, the two vanished into the mist-shrouded woods.
Yang Xuan stood rooted in place, gazing at the direction they had gone, a strange sense of loss washing over him.
Since his grandfather's death, he had lived completely alone. The outside world was vast—and terrifyingly unfamiliar. He hadn't dared to step beyond these mountains.
After some thought, he decided to wait right there. There was something about Li Qingqiu and Li Dongyue—their calm smiles and gentle demeanor—that drew him in. He didn't want to lose the connection.
Meanwhile…
Li Qingqiu pressed deeper into the forest, his pace quickening. Li Dongyue didn't speak of Yang Xuan again, keeping close behind.
The further they went, the dimmer the light became. Before long, it was like walking through night itself. A thick fog rolled between the trees, forcing Li Dongyue to stay within arm's reach of her brother.
Li Qingqiu finally understood why no one had ever found the monster realm before. Not only did this place seem endless and dark, but even a seasoned martial artist would have lost their way—or died of fright—long before finding the formation's entrance.
Yang Xuan truly was a man favored by fate. Li Qingqiu couldn't imagine how, twenty-five years later, he would stumble upon this hidden realm on his own.
Or perhaps… there was another immortal inheritance hidden somewhere in this forest.
Half an hour passed.
Li Qingqiu arrived at a sheer rock wall covered in tangled vines and wild grass. Pretending to inspect it, he brushed the vegetation aside and revealed five oddly shaped depressions carved into the stone.
"What's that?" Li Dongyue asked, curious.
Li Qingqiu frowned in mock thought, then suddenly "realized" something. He reached into his robe and produced five spirit stones, setting them carefully into the grooves.
Li Dongyue blinked, a faintly amused smile curling on her lips. She didn't expose his obvious act, choosing instead to wait and see what would happen.
Though the spirit stones didn't fit perfectly, once all five were in place, they began to glow faintly. Then, all at once, the wall erupted in brilliant light, illuminating the pitch-black forest in a dazzling burst.
Li Dongyue tensed instinctively, but Li Qingqiu grabbed her wrist, grounding her with a calm steadiness.
Turning toward him, she saw the light shining across his face—there wasn't a trace of fear in his expression, only expectation.
Li Qingqiu guided her forward into the radiance. Li Dongyue instinctively shut her eyes as her surroundings blurred and shifted.
After only a few steps, she felt a soft spiritual wind sweep past, carrying a fragrance of energy so rich it reminded her of the Thousand Spirits Blessed Land.
When she opened her eyes, her pupils widened in shock.
Before her stretched a breathtaking world—lush forests rising in waves of green, mountains encircling the horizon, and a clear blue sky filled with sunlight. Everything shimmered with vibrant life.
"This place is…" she murmured, her voice trembling with awe.
…
Several days had passed since Li Qingqiu and Li Dongyue's departure.
As dusk settled, a man dressed in white walked along a mountain ridge. A wooden sword hung from his waist, and his steps were calm and unhurried. The setting sun stretched his shadow long across the trail.
Suddenly, he stopped.
Turning his head, Shen Yue looked down the slope. Below, at a distance of more than ten zhang, a forest spread out beside the Xi River that cut through the Taikun Mountain Range. Figures began to emerge from among the trees.
They noticed him as well—but did not halt their advance.
Leading the group was Liu Dai, the Deputy Sect Master of the Taiwu Sect, accompanied by over one hundred elite cultivators.
Following them were two more factions—disciples from the Li Yin Sect and the Sword Extremity Sect—each also numbering more than one hundred people.
Behind these three sects came another group: black-robed figures wearing demonic ghost masks—the Martial Enforcement Guards.
The one leading the Sword Extremity Sect was a tall, white-haired elder with sharp, commanding features. When his gaze landed on Shen Yue, his brow furrowed slightly.
This was Song Kejian, an elder of the Sword Extremity Sect.
Song Kejian raised a hand, signaling everyone to stop. Liu Dai and the leader of the Li Yin Sect followed suit.
"Senior Brother," Song Kejian called out, his voice deep and booming. "After being defeated by the Sect Master of Qingxiao Sect, why would you join them? Where is the pride of the Sword God?"
His question sent ripples through the assembled martial masters. The title "Sword God" carried immense weight—most of those present had lived through the years when Shen Yue's swordsmanship swept across the entire martial world.
Standing on the slope above them, Shen Yue looked down at his junior brother and replied calmly, "Junior Brother, to see you leading such an army… has the Sword Extremity Sect strayed so far from its path? Have you truly become the sword of imperial power?"
Song Kejian's face darkened. "This is the will of Heaven itself. Unlike you, clinging to pride while helplessly watching your wife and child die. What good is strength if you can't protect them?"
Shen Yue did not react with anger. Instead, his tone was steady. "No matter how great one's power, traveling the martial world inevitably breeds enemies. You can't shield everyone forever. We who wield the sword should not only seek vengeance and glory—we must also use our swords to protect the weak. Have you forgotten our master's teachings?"
"Don't mention the old man," Song Kejian snapped. "He was just as useless as you! Only our senior brother was ever right. So what now? Are you going to stop us for the sake of Qingxiao Sect?"
His voice turned cold as steel, and in a swift motion, he drew his sword.
The disciples of the Sword Extremity Sect followed his lead. Dozens of blades sang at once, their overlapping sword hums piercing the air like a storm of metal.
Liu Dai of Taiwu Sect watched the scene with amusement. The members of Li Yin Sect also looked on as though it were a performance. As for the Martial Enforcement Guards, their masked faces betrayed no emotion.
Shen Yue quietly unsheathed his wooden sword and made a single casual sweep through the air.
In an instant, a deep sword mark—over five zhang long—split the earth before him.
Gasps rippled through the ranks of the three sects.
That effortless motion—so calm, so light—had not even revealed a trace of visible sword energy.
Shen Yue's expression remained indifferent. He tilted his chin slightly, looking down from above upon the hundreds below.
"Whoever crosses this line… dies."
A cold silence fell.
The weight of his words—and the title of Sword God—made even seasoned masters hesitate.
"Hmph. Arrogant fool!"
Liu Dai snorted and was about to step forward when a shadow suddenly streaked past him—leaping from shoulder to shoulder across the crowd before landing squarely at the front.
It was a man clad in a black robe and wearing a demon mask.
The Grand Director—Xuan Gong.
At his appearance, Liu Dai immediately froze mid-step and even retreated slightly.
Xuan Gong lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and sharp behind the mask. "Shen Yue, do you intend to defy Heaven's will?"
Shen Yue met his eyes, studying him closely. "So you're the one they call Grand Director Xuan—the shadow of the Emperor?"
"The Emperor has given an order," Xuan Gong said, his tone laced with command. "Flatten Qingxiao Sect. Sword God, don't tread a path of rebellion."
Shen Yue shook his head faintly. "I've walked the martial world for decades. What is an emperor to me? When I made my name, Zhao Zhi hadn't even been born."
"Impudent!"
Xuan Gong roared, his figure vanishing in a blur. In the next heartbeat, he was upon Shen Yue, striking like a ghostly predator.
Boom—
Two immense forces collided, kicking up dirt and leaves in a roaring surge. The pressure alone forced the martial artists and the Martial Enforcement Guards to brace themselves with their inner energy.
Song Kejian and Liu Dai stared wide-eyed. Xuan Gong's palm struck out, meeting Shen Yue's wooden sword head-on.
The tip of Shen Yue's sword stopped just three centimeters from Xuan Gong's palm, held apart by two opposing streams of energy visible to the naked eye. Neither side could advance even an inch.
Shen Yue narrowed his eyes. "Such domineering power. Grand Director Xuan, who exactly are you, and why hide your face behind a mask?"
The eyes beneath Xuan Gong's mask gleamed with a chilling, ghost-like ferocity. His tone was frigid. "Sword God, your reputation is well-deserved. You've met my expectations. I spared your life once, and it seems I was right. If the martial world were to lose a Sword God like you, it would be a pity indeed."
At those words, Shen Yue's expression changed slightly. His grip on the wooden sword did not waver, though his heart stirred.
"You…" he said slowly, "you're that musician from all those years ago?"
Xuan Gong let out a low, cold chuckle. "So you still remember. You must have been just over twenty then, weren't you?"
Gasps erupted among the martial masters below.
Shen Yue was now eighty years old—and this masked man claimed to have fought and defeated him in his youth. That meant he was far older—and far more dangerous—than anyone had imagined.
Yet Shen Yue showed neither anger nor fear. His calm returned instantly. "Good. Back then, I was just starting out, and you gave me my first defeat. Today, I'll erase that shame."