Chapter 242: Taixu Sword Qi: Eminence
The colossal illusion of the Taixu Sword God clashed violently against the blazing fire phoenix conjured by Jingwei. The heavens themselves seemed to groan under the sheer weight of their collision. Searing waves of golden flames and razor-sharp sword qi tore through the atmosphere, painting the sky in a blinding, apocalyptic glow. Both entities were pushing their limits, unleashing the most terrifying reservoirs of power they could muster. Yet, their strengths were perfectly deadlocked in a devastating stalemate. If this apocalyptic struggle continued, the inevitable backlash would leave both of them utterly broken and severely injured.
Down below, the situation was equally dire. Otto Apocalypse gritted his teeth, his breathing ragged as he neared his absolute limit. The golden chains of light he had manifested to bind Li Sushang were trembling violently, fracturing and shattering one by one under the immense pressure of her rampaging energy.
'Though it's not yet complete, I have no other choice. I have to try.' Rovel closed his eyes, shutting out the deafening roar of the battle above. He steadied his breathing, forcing his chaotic internal energy to settle as he began the perilous task of fully fusing the four distinct stages of the Sword Heart.
He reached deep within his consciousness. First came the unperturbed calm of Stop Water, silencing the ripples of his mind. Then, the self-forgetting clarity of Flawless washed over him, stripping away all mortal distractions. This smoothly transitioned into the penetrating, absolute insight of Illumination, and finally, he grasped for the total, ethereal harmony of Blade Supreme.
Stop Water. Flawless. Illumination. Blade Supreme.
Rovel forcefully activated all four stages of the Sword Heart simultaneously. The backlash was instantaneous and brutal. It felt as though a massive warhammer had violently slammed into his skull. His vision swam with black spots, and a sickening wave of vertigo dragged him to the very brink of unconsciousness. But he bit down hard on his lip, using the sharp sting of pain to anchor himself. He forced his trembling legs to stand firm, blood rushing in his ears as he murmured the ancient mantra under his breath.
"Spirit is the ultimate of transformation, the subtle essence of all things. It cannot be bound or defined by mortal form!"
Rovel's hands blurred as he formed a complex sword seal. His eyes snapped open, burning with an intense, unyielding light. At his command, the Xuanyuan Sword tore itself from the earth, shooting into the sky like a reverse meteor. It erupted with a blinding, majestic golden radiance that rivaled the sun itself.
"Taixu Sword Qi: Eminence!"
High above, the Xuanyuan Sword rapidly expanded, transforming into a colossal, ancient blade of pure energy. It pierced straight through the heavy cloud cover. Its massive body pulsed with a majestic golden light, illuminating every complex line and archaic pattern etched along its surface. The churning, storm-laden clouds were violently torn apart by this peerless, overwhelming force, rolling back to the horizon and dissipating into nothingness.
As the colossal blade descended, the displaced air shrieked, unleashing a deafening sonic boom that shattered the surrounding silence. The very fabric of heaven and earth seemed to shudder and groan under the oppressive, god-like might of the descending sword. And this apocalyptic weapon had only one target locked in its sights.
"Su Mei!" Rovel roared, his voice tearing through his throat, carrying an endless, torrential fury that echoed across the mountains.
The strain of wielding such power was catastrophic. Thin trails of crimson blood began to seep from Rovel's eyes, nose, and ears, painting his pale face in macabre lines. Below, the surviving cultivators stared up in absolute terror. Witnessing the ancient, heaven-rending sword descending upon them, their knees buckled. They entirely lost their will to fight, dropping their weapons and prostrating themselves on the trembling earth in sheer reverence and fear.
Standing in the path of destruction, Su Mei did not run. She knew the absolute nature of Taixu Sword Qi; it was a force that locked onto the soul, rendering all evasion utterly futile. Instead of panicking, a strange calmness washed over her features. She slowly opened her arms wide, as if preparing to tenderly embrace the colossal ancient sword.
The phantom blade of Eminence struck Su Mei flawlessly, piercing directly between her eyebrows. A catastrophic shockwave erupted outward. The sheer kinetic impact made it feel as though the entirety of Tianqiong Peak was about to be violently cleaved in two.
"Ha... ha..." Rovel panted heavily, his chest heaving like a broken bellows. His entire body was drenched in cold sweat, his muscles trembling from extreme exhaustion.
He allowed himself a fraction of a second to believe it was finally over. But the nightmare refused to end. High above, Cheng Lingshuang and Jingwei were still locked in their apocalyptic clash. The Wushuang Sword—the peerless blade Su Mei had wielded—had unexpectedly refused to revert to its dormant form. Driven by the lingering echoes of Su Mei's will, it continued to exert its final, destructive power, fueling the chaotic maelstrom.
Rovel swayed on his feet. His internal energy reserves were completely hollowed out. He didn't have a single drop of strength left to intervene and shatter those two clashing forces. A bitter taste flooded his mouth. 'So, even after everything... am I still unable to change the tragic conclusion of the Seven Swords?'
Through his blurred vision, Rovel's gaze inadvertently drifted toward the struggling figure of Li Sushang nearby. He stared at the glowing purple corruption marking her skin. Li Sushang... wait. If his meta-knowledge of the lore served him correctly, Li Sushang was destined to be a Stigmata Awakener. With such a massive, volatile concentration of Honkai Energy currently flooding her system... maybe there was still one desperate path left to take.
"Otto," Rovel rasped, dragging his exhausted body over to the blond man's side. "Do you have any strength left? I need the power of Fenghuang Down. I have to connect my consciousness directly with Li Sushang's."
Otto coughed, wiping a smear of blood from his chin. He looked at Rovel's desperate expression and gave a slow, strained nod. "...I will try." A brilliant, ethereal golden feather materialized in the palm of Otto's hand, radiating a gentle, soothing warmth.
The moment the golden light touched him, Rovel's physical vision went entirely black, and his battered body finally collapsed onto the stone floor. But his mind was violently pulled upward. His consciousness successfully bridged the gap, plunging directly into Li Sushang's inner world.
It was a surreal, fragmented space. Countless ethereal screens floated in the void, projecting vivid scenes of Li Sushang's life experiences, playing out her journey from a fragile childhood to her current state.
The first memory flickered to life. When Li Sushang was born, she was dangerously premature. She weighed barely more than two catties and three taels—ironically, roughly the exact weight of a standard longsword. The physicians and servants of Yijian Villa had all whispered in hushed, pitying tones, convinced the frail infant wouldn't survive the winter. Fortunately, defying all odds, she clung to life. Under the careful, desperate care of her wet nurse and her mother, Qin Suyi, the tiny girl not only survived but eventually thrived.
The scene shifted to a grand banquet hall. On the day of Li Sushang's full moon celebration, her father, Li Shen, proudly invited the renowned fortune teller known as Xiao Banxian to the villa. The old diviner had taken one look at the swaddled infant and gasped, declaring her a Natural Sword Embryo with an extraordinary destiny. He had proclaimed loudly for all the guests to hear that she was a dragon and phoenix among mortals, possessing the obvious countenance of a supreme sovereign.
As the memories accelerated, a clear pattern emerged. For as long as she could remember, Li Sushang's entire existence had been accompanied by cold steel. She had likely learned to recognize the gleam of a sword long before she even understood the complexities of the outside world. Her mother, Qin Suyi, strictly forced her to memorize strange, esoteric mantra formulas late into the night. By day, her father carefully drilled her, teaching her the complex twelve styles of the Yixin Sword Manual, correcting her posture move by grueling move.
"They were just using me." A hollow, sorrowful voice echoed through the void. A translucent phantom, bearing the exact likeness of a young Li Sushang, materialized beside Rovel. Her eyes were downcast, devoid of light. "Mother only wanted me to become the next Jingwei, to fulfill her own regrets. And Father... he only wanted me to become a peerless weapon to bring eternal fame to the Li family."
Rovel looked at the trembling phantom, his expression softening with empathy. "It is true that they both hoped you would live according to their rigid expectations. They wanted you to become the idealized person they envisioned in their minds," he said softly. "But... despite their flaws, you cannot deny the genuine love they held for you."
With a gentle, sweeping wave of Rovel's hand, the oppressive memories shattered, and the scene instantly shifted.
A new memory formed—one Sushang had never witnessed. It showed Qin Suyi on her deathbed, her face pale and drawn. Yet, even in her final, agonizing moments, her only thoughts were of her daughter. She desperately prayed that Li Sushang wouldn't be implicated by the cursed legacy of the Xuanyuan Sword, wishing nothing more than for her little girl to live a safe, ordinary, and happy life.
The scene shifted again, showing her father, Li Shen. He had aged terribly, his face lined with worry. He frequently dispatched trusted messengers to the harsh northern lands of Mobei to check on her well-being. However, every single envoy had been silently intercepted and turned away by Cheng Lingshuang, leaving the father and daughter forever separated by misunderstandings.
Li Sushang's phantom stared at the scenes, her lips trembling slightly. She did not utter a single word in reply, merely lowering her head and walking forward into the silent void. Then, the environment shifted once more, bringing forth the imposing, icy figure of Cheng Lingshuang—her master, and the person who had stood by her side the longest throughout her isolated life.
"Master only took me in because she was tricked by my mother's dying request," the phantom of Sushang whispered, her voice laced with deep-seated insecurity. "I trained until my hands bled, yet I never once managed to meet her impossible expectations."
"That is because she never harbored any rigid expectations for you in the first place," Rovel corrected gently, stepping up beside her. "The path you wish to walk, and the path you wish to avoid—those are choices entirely up to you to make. If she truly wanted to control your destiny, why do you think she named her sect the Zizai Gate—the School of Absolute Freedom?"
Rovel waved his hand a second time, tearing a rift in the mental space. The chaotic, apocalyptic scene of the real world outside suddenly projected before Li Sushang's eyes.
"Look closely," Rovel urged, pointing at the sky where two god-like figures clashed. "To protect you from harm, your master is currently engaged in a life-or-death struggle against my master. You know Cheng Lingshuang better than anyone. Her heart is like frozen ice. Yet, you are the very first person in this world capable of making her feel genuine anger and fear for someone else's safety. Even I haven't managed to evoke such a raw emotion from her."
He turned back to the phantom, his voice growing urgent and firm. "Sushang, if you don't wake up right now and take control, this tragedy will consume everyone. Whether it is Jingwei or Lingshuang, their stubborn clash will only end in absolute, mutual destruction."
Rovel reached out, his warm hand firmly grasping Li Sushang's cold, trembling fingers. With steady, unyielding strength, he began pulling her upward, dragging her bit by bit out of the suffocating, dark quagmire of her own self-doubt.
"Whether you do it to fulfill your mother's final, loving wish, or to save your master Lingshuang, or simply for your own sake..." Rovel's eyes burned with conviction. "Didn't you always dream of stepping into the martial world and becoming a heroic knight-errant? A true hero doesn't surrender to despair! You absolutely cannot stop here!"
"Martial Uncle..." Li Sushang's voice finally broke. Large, crystalline tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over her cheeks as the facade of the stoic swordswoman crumbled. "I'm so scared..."
"It's okay to be scared," Rovel said, his grip tightening reassuringly. "But remember, we are always by your side. You will never have to face this world alone!"
With a sudden, powerful surge of spiritual force, Rovel yanked her upward, completely liberating her soul from the paralyzing chains of her traumatic memories.
The oppressive darkness shattered, but Li Sushang still looked down at her ethereal hands, somewhat at a loss. "But... isn't it too late? My body has already succumbed to the Honkai corruption. The qi deviation is tearing my meridians apart, and I haven't even managed to learn the Liangyi Immortal Art from you yet, Martial Uncle..."
"For ordinary cultivators, succumbing to such corruption would indeed be a death sentence. It would be too late. But for you, Sushang, this is merely the beginning." Rovel smiled warmly, reaching out to gently stroke the top of her head. "You are incredibly special. You are every bit as talented and unique as Lingshuang. Both of you carry the dormant, ancient power of the Stigmata within your bloodlines. You are a one-in-a-million genius."
He looked directly into her tear-filled eyes. "It's simply that your Stigmata hasn't fully awakened yet. The massive, chaotic surge of Honkai Energy and True Qi currently rampaging through your physical body provides the absolute perfect catalyst for this awakening!"
Rovel guided her, his voice a steady, rhythmic anchor in the chaotic void. "Close your eyes. Feel the dormant Stigmata etched into your very soul. Reach out and respond to its call. Let its power flow through you. It will give you the strength to turn this tragic story around and forge the happy ending we all hope for!"
Li Sushang took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping the remaining tears from her face. "I believe in you, Martial Uncle."
She gave a firm, resolute nod. At this desperate juncture, there was nothing left to do but trust him and take the leap. She closed her eyes and silently began to recite the foundational Sword Heart Mantra. With practiced precision, she forcefully gathered the rampaging, chaotic True Qi tearing through her meridians, guiding the violent currents and injecting every last drop of it directly into the dormant Stigmata hidden deep within her bloodline.
Stimulated by the massive, overwhelming impact of the concentrated Honkai Energy, the ancient Stigmata finally reacted. It began to awaken, revealing its true, majestic form bit by bit within her soul. It did not take the shape of a beast or a crest—it was a sword. A peerless, razor-sharp blade that had been honed to absolute perfection through generations of martial will.
Back in the physical world, the terrifying, glowing purple patterns of corruption that had marred Li Sushang's skin began to recede at a visible, astonishing rate, replaced by a pure, extraordinary light.
Within the mindscape, Li Sushang's eyes snapped open, blazing with newfound power and unadulterated joy. "Martial Uncle, I did it! I succeeded!"
Rovel offered her a proud, exhausted smile. "Mhm. I knew you would. Now, go ahead and show them."
"I understand." Li Sushang summoned her weapon, her spirit burning brighter than ever. "I am going to... change the ending of this tragic story! From here on out, I will be the one to write our fate!"
In the ruined courtyard of Tianqiong Peak, the physical Li Sushang suddenly opened her eyes. A stunning aura erupted from her slender frame, instantly blowing away the surrounding debris. The Xuanyuan Sword gripped tightly in her hand began to connect, its form shifting and changing once again. However, it did not take on the appearance of any legendary blade that had appeared in history before. Instead, it manifested a pure, crystalline Sword Intent—a unique, peerless power that belonged entirely and exclusively to Li Sushang herself.
Her gaze was no longer clouded by fear, doubt, or the shadows of her past. It was incredibly firm, shining with the unyielding brilliance of a true swordmaster. Her lips parted slightly, a faint, confident smile gracing the corners of her mouth as she raised her blade toward the heavens. Channeling the entirety of her newly awakened Stigmata, she shouted with absolute, unwavering authority.
"Taixu Sword Qi: Eminence!"
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