Chapter 346 Inside the Spirit Realm
However, with the appearance of Buzhou Mountain, the threat of the Upper Realm was imminent. This made Chen Chang'an pay even more attention to the development of the Spirit Realm.
After dismissing his disciples, Chen Chang'an's spiritual sense seeped into the Spirit Realm like flowing water. The scene before him gradually became clear.
The North Pole Immortal Sect was situated on the summit of a snow mountain in the northern border of the Spirit Realm. Pure white snow covered the blue-grey halls. Looking from afar, it was like an ink painting scroll.
At this moment, in front of the mountain gate, teams of disciples dressed in plain white robes were practicing sword techniques. The sword light was like snow, shining together with the surrounding ice and snow.
Zhao Xin stood with hands behind his back on the summit. A white robe fluttered in the cold wind.
His expression was calm, his gaze like a torch, as he inspected the newly entered disciples. These disciples were all personally chosen by him, with pure natures and no desire for power, wholeheartedly seeking the Dao.
"The path of cultivation prioritizes the nature of the heart." Zhao Xin's voice was not loud, but it clearly transmitted into every disciple's ears. "The prosperity of the world is merely passing clouds; power and riches will eventually turn to dust."
"Only by pursuing the Great Dao can one transcend life and death and see the true self."
The disciples looked solemn and nodded one after another. There was no greed or desire in their eyes, only piety and longing for the Immortal Dao.
Down the mountain, envoys from the Three Great Dynasties arrived one after another. They brought heavy gifts, wanting to befriend the North Pole Immortal Sect.
However, Zhao Xin always closed his doors and refused to see them. He only sent disciples to transmit a message: "Cultivators do not ask about worldly affairs; please return, everyone."
The envoys looked at each other, and in the end, could only return in disappointment.
The general of the Great Yan Dynasty stood at the foot of the mountain, looking up at the Immortal Sect shrouded in clouds and mist. He sighed, "These cultivators truly do not eat the smoke and fire of the human world."
The strategist of the Qingxuan Dynasty stroked his beard, lost in thought. "They do not interfere in the mortal dust, which for us might not be a bad thing."
The princess of the Tianshuang Dynasty looked at the summit, a glimmer of longing flashing in her eyes. "If only I could join the Immortal Sect, how wonderful that would be..."
The attitude of the North Pole Immortal Sect made the Three Great Dynasties both awestruck and at ease. Although currently the power of top-tier martial artists was not inferior to cultivators, the forces of the Three Great Dynasties were currently in balance. No one wanted to easily break it.
Chen Chang'an remained noncommittal about Zhao Xin's approach. Although the stability of the Spirit Realm was what he was happy to see, and maintaining distance between cultivators and mortals was not a problem.
But seeking to leave the world before entering it would inevitably lead to problems one day.
Chen Chang'an's spiritual sense sank into the Spirit Realm again. This time, he did not exhaust his Immortal Origin to make time fly rapidly like last time. Instead, he used a bit of magic to let the time of the Spirit Realm quietly flow for a hundred years.
A hundred years of time was like a long dream within the Spirit Realm.
The North Pole Immortal Sect still stood on the summit of the snow mountain, but the disciples under the sect had long since changed batch after batch. Zhao Xin had been in closed-door cultivation for many years, attempting to break through to the Return to One Realm. The sect affairs were temporarily handled by his eldest disciple, Lin Qi.
Lin Qi had a steady personality, and his cultivation had reached the late stage of the Profound Passage Realm. Although he was not as breathtakingly talented as Zhao Xin, he excelled in fairness and was deeply respected by the disciples.
Within the Spirit Realm, the number of cultivators had increased quite a bit compared to a hundred years ago. Many martial artists with outstanding talent had broken through shackles and stepped into the Profound Passage Realm. They were able to fly with swords and call for wind and rain.
Some hid in mountains and forests, some traveled around. Although they did not interfere in mortal matters, the existence of cultivators was no longer a secret.
The Three Great Dynasties still stood tall, maintaining a delicate balance on the surface. But underneath, the currents were surging.
The Taizu of the Tianshuang Dynasty, Mo Tianfeng, was now already very old and dying. He sat on the Golden Throne, looking at his aging face in the bronze mirror, a flash of unwillingness in his eyes.
He was once one of the most powerful martial artists in the Spirit Realm. With iron-blooded methods, he unified the north and established the Tianshuang Dynasty, wielding power over the world.
However, even powerful authority could not withstand the erosion of time.
"I... still cannot die." He murmured lowly. His withered fingers tightly gripped the armrest of the dragon chair, his knuckles turning white.
His gaze looked through the hall doors towards the distant north. That was the direction where the North Pole Immortal Sect lay.
"Cultivators... Longevity..."
A blaze of hot desire ignited in Mo Tianfeng's eyes. He had long sent people to secretly investigate the secrets of cultivators. He even spared no expense in searching for rare treasures from all over the world, just to seek a glimmer of hope for life.
At the same time, the Great Yan Dynasty and the Qingxuan Dynasty also sensed the unusual movements of the Tianshuang Dynasty.
When the envoy of the Tianshuang Dynasty stepped on the deep autumn frost to arrive at the foot of the North Pole Immortal Sect, he happened to meet a first snow.
He looked up at the snow mountain surrounded by clouds and mist and couldn't help shivering. As a heavy minister of the dynasty, he didn't need to come here personally. But no one dared to disobey the order of Taizu Mo Tianfeng.
"Envoy of the Tianshuang Dynasty, requesting to see the Sect Master of the Immortal Sect!"
The voice echoed in the valley. Soon, a white-clad figure came treading on the snow.
Lin Qi stood with his hands behind his back in front of the mountain gate, his features cold. "What is it?"
The envoy hurriedly bowed and saluted, taking out a gold-plated jade slip from his bosom. "Under the order of my dynasty's Taizu, I have come specially to ask for the Path of Longevity. The Taizu is willing to offer half the empire as a gift, only asking the Immortal Elder to point out the maze."
The mountain wind rolled with snowflakes sweeping past. Lin Qi's gaze stayed on the jade slip for a moment, then he said faintly, "Cultivators do not ask about worldly affairs, and the Path of Longevity cannot be lightly passed on. Please return."
The envoy became anxious, "Immortal Elder! The Taizu is sincere—"
"See the guest out."
Lin Qi turned and left, and surprisingly, did not leave half a footprint on the snowy ground. Two Immortal Sect disciples appeared silently and made a "please" gesture.
The envoy stood in place, the jade slip in his hand gradually soaked by snow water. He looked at the white figure disappearing in the wind and snow, and finally could only let out a long sigh, stumbling down the mountain.
A distant bell sound came from the summit, as if mocking the delusions of mortals.
Inside the Tianshuang Dynasty, in the Golden Throne Hall.
Mo Tianfeng sat on the Dragon Throne, his aging face appearing particularly gloomy under the candlelight. He looked at the envoy kneeling in the hall, his voice hoarse and cold.
"Are you sure... the people of the North Pole Immortal Sect, replied to me like this?"
The envoy's forehead was tightly pressed against the ground, his voice trembling. "In reply to Your Majesty, that Sect Master Lin Qi said... Cultivators do not ask about worldly affairs, and the Path of Longevity cannot be lightly passed on..."
"Bang!"
Mo Tianfeng slapped his palm on the Dragon Case, and the table split in response. Anger burned in his eyes, but in the next moment, it turned into deep exhaustion.
He slowly leaned back against the chair, looking at the coiled dragon carvings on the ceiling, and murmured. "I have ruled Tianshuang for over a hundred years, with all people bowing their heads, wielding power over the world. Do I really have to turn into a handful of yellow earth like this?"
The hall was dead silent, no one daring to respond.
After a long while, Mo Tianfeng suddenly gave a cold laugh. "Since they won't give it... then I, will take it myself!"
He sat up straight abruptly, a flash of ruthlessness in his eyes. "Pass the order down, gather the great army. I want to personally visit the North Pole Immortal Sect!"
At the North Pole Immortal Sect, in front of the mountain gate, Lin Qi stood with his hands behind his back. He looked at the wind and snow rising in the distance, frowning slightly.
He always felt that the aura at the foot of the mountain these past few days was a bit wrong.
"Sect Master Senior Brother, what's wrong?" A disciple walked up and asked.
Lin Qi shook his head. "It's nothing, it's just... I always feel like something big is going to happen."
That night, thousands of black-clad warriors appeared like ghosts at the foot of the mountain. The one leading them was surprisingly—Mo Tianfeng, the Taizu of Tianshuang!
The night was like ink, cold wind rolling fine snow sweeping over the cliff.
Mo Tianfeng stood alone at the foot of the North Pole Immortal Sect. His black dragon-patterned great cloak fluttered in the wind.
He raised his head, his muddy eyeballs staring deathly at the Immortal Sect halls looming in the clouds and mist.
Moonlight flowed on the flying eaves and upturned corners, gilding that majestic, faceless immortal statue with a cold radiance.
"True Immortal..."
His dry, cracked lips moved, a hoarse sigh spilling from his throat.
It was said that a hundred years ago, Zhao Xin was just an ordinary martial artist. Only because he met a True Immortal on this snowy summit with a sincere heart did he receive the teaching of the Great Dao of Longevity.
And now that commoner sat high in the clouds, with disciples like clouds. While he, the emperor ruling over millions, had to look up at his mountain gate in this cold night.
"On what grounds..."
His withered fingers suddenly clenched the great cloak, knuckles making a brittle sound unable to bear the heavy load.
Mo Tianfeng straightened his hunched back, the majesty of an emperor fully revealed at this moment. Even if old, even if his lifespan was nearing its end, he was still like a sword drawn from its sheath, fully revealing its sharp edge.
Moonlight shone on his face crisscrossed with gullies. Those wrinkles were carved with over a hundred years of killing decisions. At this moment, his eyes were colder than the snow mountain, sharper than a blade's edge. That was an emperor's questioning of fate, his unwillingness towards life and death.
"I possess ten thousand miles of rivers and mountains, commanding a million mighty soldiers. Am I still less worthy of immortality than a commoner?"
The cold wind whistled past the mountain ravine, as if responding to his interrogation.
The statue of the immortal still lowered its eyes to overlook the human world, neither sad nor happy.
Mo Tianfeng suddenly coughed violently, a mouthful of fresh blood splattering on the snow, like a blooming red plum.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his dragon sleeve without caring, his gaze becoming even more ruthless.
"Since Heaven does not bestow it..."
As he turned and left, a string of deep footprints was left on the snowy ground. Each footprint was soaked with the emperor's unwillingness and obsession.
"Then I... will personally come and demand it!"
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