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Chapter Image Source: Pixiv Artist Code "97429741" / Pixiv Art Code "112338367"
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In the blood-soaked arena, a grim tableau of death and despair surrounded them. The fallen lay as silent witnesses to the impending clash between two formidable swordswomen, each driven by her own fervent motives.
Jingliu stood with an air of solemn determination, her gaze locked onto her adversary. Her eyes, once mirrors of tranquility, were now narrowed in a steely resolve. Before her stood Yexian, a woman consumed by a twisted obsession, her lips curved into a malevolent smile that sent shivers down the spines of all who beheld her.
The arena, a macabre testament to their earlier battle, was littered with the lifeless bodies of both allies and foes. The stench of blood and the echoes of death hung heavy in the air. Yet amidst this grim tableau, the two women remained undeterred, their destinies inexorably intertwined.
Yexian's laughter cut through the eerie silence, a manic sound that reverberated in the hearts of those who dared to watch. She reveled in the chaos she had sown, a self-proclaimed champion of the void, her allegiance pledged to the enigmatic Aeon of Nothingness. To her, this battle was a twisted dance of devotion and madness.
With a flourish, Yexian introduced herself, her voice dripping with arrogance and madness. "I am Yexian, the Blood Champion of the Void," she declared, her words a chilling prelude to the impending confrontation.
Jingliu's response was a solemn nod, her unwavering dedication to her friend Y/N burning within her. She could not allow Yexian to tarnish the memory of her beloved comrade with her delusions of possession. Y/N had been a paragon of honor and valor, and Jingliu would defend his legacy with her very life.
As if ignited by the flames of their convictions, the two women launched into action. Yexian's speed was an astonishing blur, far surpassing their previous encounter. Her blood-soaked ruby sword, an embodiment of her violent obsession, swung toward Jingliu with lethal intent, heralding the beginning of their grand and fateful battle.
Jingliu met the oncoming onslaught with a grace born of dedication and mastery. Her own blade, a testament to her unwavering loyalty, moved with precision and purpose. The clash of their swords resonated through the arena, a symphony of steel that echoed the clash of their opposing ideals.
Their fight would not only determine the fate of Xianzhou Yuque but would also serve as a battleground for the very essence of their beliefs. Jingliu fought to preserve the memory of her dear friend, while Yexian sought to claim him as her own, driven by a madness that knew no bounds.
As the Duel of Fates unfolded in the bloodied arena, the destiny of these two swordswomen hung in the balance, and the echoes of their clash reverberated through the hearts of all who bore witness to their battle.
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High above the battlefield, where the cataclysmic clash between Jingliu and Yexian raged on, an enigmatic figure watched with detached interest. This observer was none other than the Pontiff, a being whose existence transcended the mundane concerns of the mortal world.
The Pontiff paid no heed to the brutal engagement of the Corpse Coat Dragon, for it possessed knowledge that rendered such events trivial. Its lord, blessed with glimpses of the future, had foreseen the outcome of that struggle. Instead, the Pontiff's attention was fixed squarely upon the Duel of Fates unfolding below.
From its vantage point, the Pontiff observed the battle between the two swordswomen with a discerning eye. Jingliu, the guardian of Y/N's legacy, had grown in strength and determination since their last encounter. Her unwavering loyalty to her fallen comrade shone brightly, but in the eyes of the Pontiff, she remained unworthy to stand alongside its liege's successor.
The Pontiff's thoughts were interrupted as it sensed the approach of formidable beings, their presence marked by a profound sensitivity to the essence of life. These beings were the Elemental Guardians, entrusted with the sacred duty of safeguarding the balance of existence.
As the Guardians approached, their gaze fell upon the Pontiff, and they felt nothing but darkness emanating from its presence. Their instincts, finely attuned to the essences that surrounded them, left them with no doubt – the Pontiff was a creature steeped in malevolence.
One of the Guardians, known as Aoqing, a figure of authority among them, stepped forward and addressed the Pontiff. "We have been sent by our Aeon, Lan," they declared, their voice resonating with the wisdom of ages. "Our purpose here is to uncover the associate of our adversary Aeon."
The Pontiff regarded the Guardians with a sense of aloof detachment. "I am here to facilitate the growth of Jingliu," it replied cryptically, its words laden with hidden meaning.
This response elicited a stiffening of the Guardians, who exchanged uneasy glances. Aoqing, the Elemental Guardian of Water, frowned with displeasure as she confronted the enigmatic being. "What business do you have with Xianzhou's Sword Champion?" she demanded, her voice laced with both concern and anger. To Aoqing, Jingliu was a figure of admiration and reverence, and she would tolerate no harm coming to her.
The Pontiff's response was enigmatic yet foreboding. "She is a pivotal character in the unfolding agenda," it stated calmly. "Her survival is of paramount importance, lest 'he' become enraged."
The Guardians, realizing that the Pontiff was withholding critical information, attempted to apprehend the mysterious entity. With the power of their runes, they sought to seal the Pontiff's presence, but they quickly discovered the futility of their efforts. The Pontiff was a being that existed beyond the confines of this world, and their seals held no sway over it.
With an air of detachment, the Pontiff bid the Guardians farewell, retreating into the shadows and vanishing from their sensory perception. The Guardians scoffed at its departure but remained vigilant, ready to fulfill their mission.
Then their senses alerted them to the presence of more Mara-afflicted soldiers approaching. The Elemental Guardians took their stances, prepared to confront this new threat and fulfill their duty to Aeon Lan.
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In the blood-soaked arena, the clash of two formidable swordswomen echoed with deadly intent. Jingliu, the guardian of Y/N's legacy, faced off against Yexian, the blood champion of the void, in a battle that would determine the fate of Xianzhou Yuque.
Yexian, her smile twisted into a malevolent grin, initiated the exchange with a swift and brutal strike of her blood ruby sword. The crimson blade, imbued with dark energies, streaked through the air like a sanguine comet, aimed directly at Jingliu's heart.
Jingliu's instincts kicked in, and she moved with preternatural speed to defend against the relentless assault. Her usual finesse was replaced by a calculated brutality as she summoned her magnificent greatsword into her hands. This change in weaponry was a deliberate choice, one inspired by the memories of her training with Y/N.
The greatsword, a magnificent and imposing weapon, met the onslaught of Yexian's attacks with resolute determination. The impact of each strike reverberated through Jingliu's body, but she held her ground, channeling Y/N's teachings into her movements.
What Jingliu did not realize was that her choice to use the greatsword had an unexpected consequence. With each blow she absorbed, the power within her began to surge and grow, much like a reservoir filling with energy. It was as if the greatsword fed off the aggression of her opponent, transforming it into a wellspring of her own strength.
As the battle raged on, Jingliu's attacks became more focused and potent. Her greatsword, once a defensive tool, had now become a symbol of her rising power. Yexian, though a skilled and vicious combatant, found herself gradually losing ground as Jingliu's offensive prowess continued to increase.
The Pontiff, an unseen observer in the shadows, watched in silence. It had no need for words; the unfolding clash between these two formidable warriors spoke volumes. The Pontiff could sense the shifting tide of power, the ebb and flow of determination, and the unwavering loyalty that fueled Jingliu's every strike.
Yexian, her earlier confidence now waning, struggled to keep pace with the relentless assault. The blood champion's once-grinning visage was marred by a furrowed brow and a growing sense of frustration. She had expected an easy victory, but in Jingliu, she had encountered a foe who drew strength from adversity.
The arena remained devoid of spectators, but the Pontiff continued to bear witness to this epic clash. It knew that the outcome of this battle would have far-reaching consequences, not only for Xianzhou Yuque but for the very essence of power and legacy that drove these two women to their limits.
The relentless battle between Jingliu and Yexian had reached a critical juncture. Jingliu, wielding her magnificent greatsword with ever-increasing power, pressed her advantage against the blood champion of the void. But Yexian, realizing that her conventional attacks were futile, had one last, unholy trick up her sleeve—a gift from the Pontiff that would alter the course of their confrontation.
As the two swordswomen clashed, the arena around them bore witness to a gruesome transformation. The corpses that littered the battlefield, both allies and enemies alike, began to tremble and convulse. Then, with a grotesque and unsettling eruption, they burst open, releasing a torrent of crimson blood that filled the air.
Jingliu, her senses overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of blood, found herself momentarily disoriented. She blinked, trying to comprehend the surreal spectacle before her. The very atmosphere seemed to thicken with malevolence as the rain of blood poured down upon them, as if the battlefield itself had turned against her.
Yexian, seizing the opportunity, chanted incantations related to the void and blood. Her words resonated with dark power, and the blood in the air responded to her call. Her voice carried an eerie, ancient cadence, as if invoking forces from a time long past.
"Sanguine vitae, essence of the void, heed my call," Yexian intoned, her voice weaving through the macabre symphony of death and transformation. "In the name of the Aeon of Nothingness, I beckon thee to awaken."
Jingliu, recognizing the shift in the battle's dynamics, acted swiftly, unleashing a crescent slash of ice towards her adversary.
But it was too late.
The coagulated blood in the air, manipulated by Yexian's dark incantation, moved with eerie precision. It swirled around the icy slash, acting as weights to slow it down. With a gruesome and sanguine display, the icy projectile shattered into countless fragments, leaving Jingliu's attack utterly negated.
Yexian's chant continued, and the blood in the atmosphere underwent a grotesque metamorphosis. It transformed into a fine mist, shrouding Yexian's form like a cocoon. The eerie silence that followed was shattered by an explosive burst of crimson energy.
The cocoon of blood and void unraveled, revealing Yexian in her unholy form. Her entire body had undergone a nightmarish transformation, becoming a full-bodied, black and red fiery humanoid. The raw power emanating from her was palpable, and the very ground beneath them quaked in response to her newfound might.
The earthquake-like tremors rippled through Xianzhou Luofu, a testament to the unleashed power of Yexian's unholy metamorphosis. Jingliu, her gaze fixed on the abomination before her, knew that the battle had taken an even darker turn.
As Jingliu stood before the unholy abomination that was once Yexian, she couldn't help but be taken aback by the sight before her. Despite the hatred that still burned within her, a begrudging respect began to grow within her heart. This crimson-haired adversary had proven herself to be a formidable opponent, one who could match Jingliu blow for blow.
The being that had once been Yexian now radiated malevolence, her entire form enveloped in waves of black and red fire. Her eyes, once human, gleamed with an otherworldly darkness, and her mouth contorted into a twisted, zigzagging grin that sent shivers down Jingliu's spine.
"You see," Yexian's voice rang out, matching the eerie tone of her appearance. "This is the power that calls to me, my lord's power." Her words were a chilling revelation, a glimpse into the depths of her madness.
With a tone that matched her unholy appearance, Yexian swung her blood ruby sword, unleashing tornadoes of scorching fire upon Jingliu. The flames were so searingly hot that they melted the very ground beneath them. The corpses that littered the arena turned to charred husks, and the putrid stench of death hung heavy in the air.
Jingliu, her ice powers at her command, desperately attempted to cool the environment and counteract the inferno. "Y/N, guide my hand," she whispered, invoking the memory of her fallen friend. The chill of her powers radiated outward, attempting to stem the tide of the inferno.
Yet, the flames raged with an intensity that defied her efforts. Parts of her once-impervious armor began to melt under the searing heat, and she could feel the scorching breath of the inferno upon her skin. The very air itself seemed to crackle with malevolent energy.
Yexian, reveling in the struggle of her adversary, laughed with sadistic excitement. She proclaimed her intent to end Jingliu's life here and now, all in the name of reuniting with her 'lord,' whom she claimed was still alive. Jingliu's sharp mind caught onto this revelation, and she realized that there was more to Yexian's madness than met the eye.
"What is it that you seek, Yexian?" Jingliu called out between labored breaths. She knew that there was a deeper story behind this obsession, and perhaps there was a chance to reason with her adversary.
In a desperate bid to turn the tide, Jingliu summoned her ice powers once more. She created an avalanche of ice, sending it crashing towards the encroaching flames. The clash of fire and ice was cataclysmic, and for a moment, it seemed as though the elements were locked in an eternal struggle.
The ice successfully canceled out the tornadoes of fire, but in the blink of an eye, Yexian closed the distance between them. With lightning speed, she grabbed Jingliu by the neck, her fiery touch threatening to consume her. Jingliu, quick to react, encased herself in a protective shield of ice. Yet, the ice began to melt rapidly under the intense heat of Yexian's unholy form.
As Jingliu struggled within the fiery grasp of Yexian, a sudden and unexpected presence pierced through the turmoil of their battle. It was not a voice that belonged to a mortal, nor was it a whisper of the wind—it was a majestic, ethereal voice that resonated within her mind. Confusion etched across her face as she felt the constriction of Yexian's grip give way, and the world around her shifted in an instant.
She found herself standing in an eerie hall, vast and grand as though it were a king's court. The walls were adorned with portraits of figures whose faces had been torn away, as if their very existence had been erased from history. Where the throne should have been, there loomed a towering figure, shrouded in a cloak and robes that seemed woven from shadowy smoke. Its eyes were a mesmerizing duality, one black as the void and the other as white as purity, and they regarded Jingliu with an unspoken authority.
"I am the God of Concepts," the figure intoned, its voice a symphony of omnipotence. "I am the Aeon who rules over the Abyss—the very essence where everything exists within nothing, and yet nothing exists within everything."
Jingliu stood in awe and reverence, her eyes locked on the enigmatic being that now addressed her. There was a sense of power and knowledge that radiated from this godly presence, and she knew instinctively that this encounter was far from ordinary.
The figure, like a king of unfathomable dominion, had introduced itself as the God of Concepts, the ruler of the Abyss. Awaiting the revelations that would shape her destiny, Jingliu knew that this encounter was a turning point in her struggle against Yexian.