Heavenly Wheel Ascension

Duan Niu burst into laughter, his voice bouncing between the bamboo stalks that were now beginning to wither, deprived of their energy source. He slapped his bulging belly repeatedly, as if Zhi Xuan’s question was the funniest joke in the Cang Hai Plains.

"An underdog of the Ancient Clans? My, oh my! Daoist Zhang, you truly hurt my feelings!" Duan Niu wiped a non-existent tear from the corner of his squinted eyes. "Do I look like a lapdog who enjoys wearing silk robes and bowing to arrogant young masters? No, no. I’d much rather be a pig free to wallow in the mud than an eagle chained inside a golden cage."

He stepped closer. "Besides, if I were their subordinate, I wouldn't have let you destroy Meng Zhao. I would much rather catch you while you were disguised like this, wouldn't I?"

"Well, who doesn't recognize the figure holding one of the Thirteen Banners of Calamity?" Duan Niu continued, shaking his head slowly with a mock-sad tone. "Sigh, Daoist Zhang, or whatever your many names are. You are truly lucky to have such beautiful women."

Zhi Xuan narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing. "I do not have 'women'."

"Heh, liar," Duan Niu snorted, placing both hands under his chin, a worshipful smile appearing on his face as he gazed at the night sky. "Saintess Zhu Qinglan, Saintess Ye Xishui... how beautiful and exquisite they are."

Duan Niu lowered his hands and nudged Zhi Xuan’s arm, causing the young man to stagger slightly. "Tell me, how does one obtain holy women like that?"

Zhi Xuan froze, staggering and nearly falling before regaining his balance. He turned to glare at Duan Niu. "You—"

"You what?" Duan Niu cut him off with a cynical, playful face. "Alright, if you don't want to tell me how to get women like that. This Black Bamboo Sect won't last long after Meng Zhao's death. Du Tianzong must have realized it by now and will bring other practitioners here from their alliance with the Thousand Lotus Valley."

"Forget about the women," Zhi Xuan said, his voice returning to the coldness of ice frozen on the highest mountain peak. "If Du Tianzong brings his alliance, then this Bamboo Forest will simply become a larger graveyard. I did not come here merely to play hide-and-seek."

"Good, very good!" Duan Niu chirped happily, beginning to walk ahead of Zhi Xuan. "Follow my lead, Daoist Zhang. With you and me, even if ten sects surround us, we shall pillage them all."

Elsewhere, far from the bamboo forest, specifically in the main hall of the Black Bamboo Sect, Du Tianzong was panting, his face flushed with rage. He stared at the shattered soul tablet of Meng Zhao in his hand, indicating that the old man had died without even having the chance to let his Divine Spirit escape.

"Sect Leader Du," began one of the Soul Transformation elders, looking pale. "Someone who can destroy Advisor Meng Zhao to such an extent is no ordinary person."

The elders stood before the magnificent sect leader's altar, whispering amongst themselves. One of them, a middle-stage Soul Transformation practitioner holding a talisman, appeared to be trembling in fear.

"Advisor Meng Zhao was an early-stage Weaver Transformation expert," the elder whispered, his face reflected in the talisman's shadow. "If someone was able to kill him, it must be a middle-stage Weaver Transformation or higher."

Du Tianzong growled, the sound from his throat like thunder buried behind black clouds. He clenched his fist until the shards of Meng Zhao’s soul tablet crumbled into dust. A heavy, sharp pressure surged from his body, cutting through the hall's air like a thousand blades.

"Whoever he is, he has challenged the sovereignty of the Black Bamboo Sect on this land!" Du Tianzong roared, his eyes red with the fire of rage. "Meng Zhao was not just an advisor; he was the net that guarded the secrets of that forest. Without him, our protective formation will become food for wild rats!"

He turned toward a young man dressed in white who had been standing silently in the corner of the hall, holding a silver lotus blooming in his palm. The man was an envoy from the Thousand Lotus Valley, a figure who was always calm but possessed a tongue more poisonous than a cobra.

"Envoy Yao, will the Thousand Lotus Valley continue to sit idly by while its allied sect is insulted like this?" Du Tianzong asked demandingly.

Envoy Yao slowly raised his head, a thin smile full of guile appearing on his lips. "Sect Leader Du, Meng Zhao's death is indeed shocking. However, isn't it time for us to release the seed that has been stored inside the lotus for so long?"

He stroked the petals of his silver lotus. "I heard that the Pavilion of the Heavenly Path has a mysterious Shadow Elder. That man is named Zhang Shui."

"Zhang Shui?" Du Tianzong repeated the name, his tone laden with a hatred that was almost explosive. "A name I have never heard in all the Cang Hai Plains. Where did that dilapidated shack pick up an expert like him?"

Envoy Yao spun his silver lotus, letting the cold radiance of holy light illuminate his pale face. "His face is unfamiliar to the eye. However, the eyes never lie—only one person in all the realms possesses eyes like those."

"A man whose name is currently shaking the pillars of the nine great clans," Envoy Yao continued, his voice as smooth as silk yet as sharp as a dagger. "Zhi Xuan, or better known as Gu Fengyan."

A deathly silence instantly enveloped the Main Hall of the Black Bamboo Sect. The name uttered by Envoy Yao seemed to carry an ancient curse that froze the flow of spiritual essence in the air. The elders who had been whispering now stood frozen, their faces turning pale like sacrificial paper blown by a grave wind.

"Gu... Gu Fengyan?" an elder's voice choked, his eyes widening as he tried to recall. "The figure known as the Southern Devil, who slaughtered thousands of practitioners in the southern Yao Gu region? Even the strong figures like the Holy Woman of Yao Gu and the Elder of the Sky Leaf Holy Pavilion said nothing about it."

"I heard that name hundreds of years ago," another elder remarked, his face looking reminiscent. "At that time, I was still a wanderer who didn't know his way before arriving at Cang Hai. I saw with my own eyes how, after that Devil Gu left the southern region, everyone lived in fear; for seven days, the sky was filled with blood."

"If he truly is the Devil Gu you speak of," Du Tianzong’s voice lowered, heavy with crushing pressure, "why would a figure of his level be willing to soil his hands for a trash sect like the Heavenly Path? Why is he hiding on this tiny floating continent?"

Envoy Yao chuckled, his voice sounding like the friction of snake scales on a pile of dry leaves. "Sect Leader Du, a wounded dragon will seek the darkest burrow to lick its wounds. News from the Han Ancient Clan says that this man has a duel promised with the Han Holy Son twenty years from now. This Cang Hai land is vast, and the Heavenly Path is a place where no one would think to look."

He looked deep into the center of his silver lotus petals, as if seeing the shadow of destiny. "And such a figure did not come here without a purpose. Sooner or later, he will devour the sects that have the resources to support his cultivation here. Therefore, knowing such a figure is here..."

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Envoy Yao cut off his words, smiled thinly, and blew on the lotus in his hand. He flicked his finger, and from his hand emerged a dark scroll—the kind commonly used as a hit request through the Eternal Killing Temple. He waved his hand, and the scroll floated into Du Tianzong’s grasp.

"Sect Leader Du," Envoy Yao continued, his voice like a splitting lotus. "The Han Ancient Clan has deep ties to the Eternal Killing Temple. Of course, Gu Fengyan has memories with the assassins of that temple."

He dissolved the lotus in his hand, a thin smile blossoming at the corner of his lips. "You surely know what must be done. The Han Ancient Clan will surely send their own killers without sacrificing our resources if they see this scroll."

"You mean," Du Tianzong’s voice was heavy, "we are going to invite the reapers of souls to our own land? You know the risks, Envoy Yao. Once that temple opens its doors, they won't stop until the target is dust—or even the entire continent might suffer the fallout."

Envoy Yao merely smiled, his eyes flashing with mischief. "Sect Leader Du, if that man truly is Gu Fengyan, then the Black Bamboo Sect won't last more than a single lunar month."

"Then let the shadows come," Du Tianzong hissed. "If the Devil Gu truly wishes to hide here, then I will ensure his hiding place becomes his eternal tomb."

He waved the scroll toward one of the elders. "Go. Deliver this to the Eternal Killing Temple."

Inside the darkness of the crumbling bamboo forest, Zhi Xuan suddenly stopped. He gazed at the sky, where black clouds were beginning to gather. His Divine Sense caught the vibration of a distant killing intent.

"That was fast," Zhi Xuan murmured, a thin smile etching his face. "It seems Du Tianzong won't be coming himself. Instead, an old, larger friend is on the way."

He shifted his gaze back, immediately expanding his divine sense. Afterward, he waved his hand and plucked the black bamboos that were suitable and of high enough quality to be crafted into sword treasures. Each black bamboo floated in the air before being condensed by divine energy into the size of a palm and entering his storage bag.

He looked at Duan Niu, who had approached the remains of Meng Zhao's pavilion. "Senior Duan, what might lie behind that pavilion?"

Duan Niu, who was stooped over the ruins of the pavilion, turned his head. His round face was sweaty under the dim moonlight. He did not answer immediately, but instead felt around the remaining bamboo pillars.

"Ow, ow! Daoist Zhang, you truly are impatient," Duan Niu muttered, his chubby hand suddenly stopping at a floor gap that appeared perfectly ordinary. "Beneath here, there is something that allows these black bamboos to possess such sharp sword aura."

Duan Niu stomped his heel against the cracked wooden floor. Suddenly, the sound of an ancient stone formation creaked underground, followed by the intense aroma of metal and blood. A small hole appeared, revealing a spiral staircase made of petrified bamboo roots.

"Well, what’s down there?" Duan Niu pointed with his chin. "We won't know until we descend these stairs and find out."

Zhi Xuan stared into the dark hole with an unwavering gaze. Behind the thick darkness, he could feel the fluctuations of a wild sword law, as if thousands of invisible blades were clashing in the depths of the earth.

"Interesting," Zhi Xuan murmured. He stepped into the hole, letting his body be swallowed by the staircase's shadows.

Duan Niu followed from behind, his stout body making the root stairs creak in protest of the weight passing through. "Careful, Daoist Zhang. This place is the heart of the Thousand-Blade Bamboo Forest. Meng Zhao didn't build his pavilion over this for no reason. He used his body and soul as a seal to contain something far more ferocious than himself."

As they descended deeper, the air tightened until their breath turned into white mist. The walls of the underground passage were no longer made of earth, but of interwoven bamboo roots that had hardened like black iron, shimmering with droplets of a red liquid that resembled blood.

Once they reached the bottom, a vast underground chamber opened before them. In the center of the room sat a pool of thick black liquid that boiled continuously. And in the center of that pool, a man was chained, his chest pierced by a piece of a broken ancient sword that had rusted, yet radiated an aura of sword intent so sharp it stung.

The broken sword had no hilt, leaving only a third of the blade buried deep in the figure's sternum. Although rust had eaten away at its surface, the lines of law engraved there still pulsed, emitting a dim gray light that shook the walls of the root cave with every beat.

Zhi Xuan stopped walking. His eyes, deep as the ocean, were fixed on the chained figure. It was a middle-aged man with hair that merged with the bamboo roots around him. His skin was as pale as ash, and despite his chest being pierced, his breath still flowed—extremely slow, as if time had stopped for him thousands of years ago.

"Who is this man?" Zhi Xuan murmured, his voice echoing in the silent space. "Brother Duan, do you recognize him?"

Duan Niu did not answer immediately. His foolish face was gone now, replaced by eyes that gazed at the figure in the center of the pool with respect mixed with deep sadness. He took a single step forward, letting the tip of his shoe touch the boiling black liquid.

"A thousand years ago, a great genius emerged who shook Heaven and Earth," Duan Niu whispered, his voice hoarse and heavy. "Coming from the Pavilion of the Heavenly Path, he cultivated until he reached the peak of Divine Transformation. I never expected to see that face suffering here in chains."

Duan Niu let out a long breath; the cold air exiting his mouth seemed to freeze before falling to the floor. "His name is Jian Dao. His name alone was a beacon for those on the path of the sword. I never thought a genius like him would end up here."

Zhi Xuan stood frozen, his gaze locked on the sword blade embedded in the man named Jian Dao's chest. His Divine Sense caught something more horrific than mere physical torture. This man was not just chained physically; his soul had been turned into an eternal whetstone for the sword essence of the Black Bamboo Forest.

"So, this is the reason why every bamboo up there has such sharp sword aura," Zhi Xuan’s voice sounded flat, but contained within was a quiet rage. "They didn't just slaughter him; they squeezed every drop of his Dao comprehension to strengthen this forest formation."

Duan Niu clenched his chubby fists until his knuckles turned white. "Every beat of his heart is a breath for the sword formation above. He is forced to remain alive in endless suffering so that the Black Bamboo Sect has an unlimited energy source. Du Tianzong and Meng Zhao... they have turned a genius into a living energy furnace for centuries."

Suddenly, the eyelids of the chained man quivered. Slowly, he lifted his heavy head. His hair, fused with the bamboo roots, pulled away, making the sound of dry wood snapping. Once his eyes opened, it wasn't clear if there were pupils; there were only two gray pits that radiated a sword intent so pure it sliced the air around Zhi Xuan.

"Who... are you?" the voice came raspily, heavy with a burden of infinite suffering. "How did you get here..."

The man coughed, and every time his shoulders shook, the black liquid in the pool beneath him rippled violently, sending waves of sword intent capable of shredding an ordinary practitioner’s body into scraps. His gray eyes, though dimmed, seemed to hold millions of sword trajectories he had once swung in his prime.

"Jian Dao..." Duan Niu stepped forward, his voice no longer containing a silly tone. He bowed deeply, showing the most sincere respect he had ever displayed. "The outside world thinks you vanished in the heavenly tribulations while trying to break through to the Sacred Passage. No one suspected you were buried beneath this pile of rotten bamboo."

Jian Dao took a breath that sounded like the friction of rusted metal. He looked at Duan Niu, then turned toward Zhi Xuan. For a split second, the sword intent radiating from his gray eyes met Zhi Xuan’s ocean-deep gaze. The man flinched slightly, as if he had just seen a deathly abyss darker than the darkness imprisoning him.

"A Weaver... expert?" Jian Dao whispered, his cracked lips forcing a bitter smile. "And at his side... a youth carrying the scent of calamity from a place very far away. Is Heaven being careless now?"

Zhi Xuan did not answer with words, but instead stepped forward across the surface of the boiling black pool. Every step atop the liquid created golden ripples that neutralized the deathly aura around him. He stopped exactly one pace in front of Jian Dao, staring intently at the broken sword embedded in the man’s chest.

"This is not just a broken sword," Zhi Xuan murmured, his fingers hovering in the air, feeling the pulsing lines of law on the rusted blade. "This is a nail of law woven by the hand of someone from the Upper Realm."

Jian Dao laughed drily, a sound painful to hear. "You... truly have sharp eyes, Young Man. This nail... this nail is the punishment for those who try to tear the sky without possessing golden blood. Every time I try to recover, this blade twists my soul, forcing me to vomit my Dao comprehension into energy for this foul sect."

Duan Niu, usually noisy, stood silent at the edge of the pool, his face filled with a rare gloom. "Jian Dao, how could they capture you? With your cultivation base at the time, Du Tianzong was merely an ant beneath your sole."

"It wasn't Du Tianzong who did it," Jian Dao took a heavy breath, triggering a deafening clinking of chains. "As I touched the threshold of the Sacred Passage, a giant hand appeared from behind the clouds. It suppressed my entire existence, then dropped this nail. Du Tianzong and his group just came to pick up the prey already crippled by Heaven."