Volume Two: The Mortal Realm Chapter Ninety-Eight: The Ten-Thousand-Mile Dragon Ridge
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Amid the towering waves of snow, a fist as massive as an immense boulder crashed toward the frail, tiny figure caught between them.
“Boom!”
The fist collided with the diminutive figure, blasting apart countless waves of snow in every direction.
Unable to withstand the giant fist, the small figure was driven backward. Yet another figure—an old, stooped man—appeared before the enormous fist and checked part of its momentum.
Even so, the massive fist continued pressing forward.
On the open plain, snow waves dozens of yards high surged toward them, blotting out the sky and swallowing the earth as they rolled over everything in their path. The people standing upon the flat ground were as insignificant as ants.
Ye Mingke stood alone upon the wilderness. Gripping the heavy sword Mortal Realm, he roared as he unleashed that slash.
That single stroke carved a thread of light through the sea of snow beneath the eternal night.
In that instant, Ye Mingke became completely intoxicated by the exquisite fullness of power.
Never before had he commanded such magnificent strength, vast as mountains and seas. He felt the sword in his hand suddenly come alive, like an arrogant god. Yet that proud deity was held within his grasp, trembling violently in his palm.
It submitted to him. It obeyed his will, and for his sake it would cut down the stars and the gods.
The sword’s immeasurably powerful energy surged outward, accompanied by a strange rhythm that caused the space between heaven and earth to twist for an instant.
“What in the world is this?”
Amid the overwhelming waves of snow, Immortal Lingchen suddenly cried out in terror and disbelief.
That thread of sword energy tore directly through the rolling snow filling the sky. It passed beside the old beggar and the woman, split apart the colossal fist of the snow giant before them, then traveled straight upward along the arm, severing half of the snow giant’s shoulder and arm.
The ferocious snow giant was forced several great steps backward.
“Human Emperor. Martial Dao.”
The old beggar’s eyes, once murky and lifeless, suddenly blazed with dazzling light. He turned sharply toward the direction where Ye Mingke stood upon the plain.
Ye Mingke leaned against that incomparably powerful sword, panting violently. The sword energy within Mortal Realm required none of his strength, but after losing blood for so long, he was already on the verge of unconsciousness. He could not even lift the sword again.
“This is the Martial Dao. This is the Human Emperor.”
High in the air, the old beggar ignored the staggering snow giant and the furious yet inwardly fearful Immortal Lingchen. His bloodshot eyes swept across the surrounding heavens and earth.
The strange rhythm released by the swing of Mortal Realm still echoed through the area. The old beggar gazed upon it as though he had witnessed the most beautiful sight in all the world.
The woman beside him wore an expression of admiration and emotion in her gentle eyes, half-hidden behind her disheveled hair.
“So the Martial Dao of the human world was severed because the laws of the Martial Dao no longer existed here. That is why even the strongest martial artists in the human world could advance no farther than the twelfth level of the Innate Realm.”
Tears glimmered in the old beggar’s aged eyes. Suddenly, he threw back his head and laughed wildly, his laughter sending the snow flying and whirling in a hundred-yard radius around him.
“I was not wrong. The Human Emperor’s prophecy was true. The Human Emperor’s sword has truly been awakened. With a Human Emperor, the human world will no longer be a place where others may slaughter us at will.”
His old yet vigorous voice echoed heavily through the wind and snow, brimming with irrepressible exhilaration and wild joy, as though years of suppressed fury and resentment had been released all at once.
But Ye Mingke felt only bewilderment as he listened. All he knew was that his body was growing colder. The wounds covering him continued to bleed, draining away the tiny amount of strength he had left.
He no longer even possessed the strength to remain standing against the heavy sword. Slowly, he sank to one knee in the snow. Everything before his eyes began to blur, and even the voices around him seemed to come from a distant place.
“Could that boy truly be another Human Emperor Physique? How is that possible?”
He vaguely heard Immortal Lingchen shout in confusion and terror. But soon, he no longer had the strength even to remain kneeling. His body tilted helplessly and slowly collapsed into the snow.
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“Haha! Even if he truly possesses the Human Emperor Physique, he is now at the end of his strength. Let me wipe out the lot of you disobedient beasts of the human world and extinguish the last flickering hope you have left.”
Sensing that Ye Mingke was about to lose consciousness, Immortal Lingchen, who had been wavering in shock, laughed aloud upon seeing hope once more.
“How dare you?”
The old beggar had only just recovered from his overwhelming joy when he let out an enraged shout.
“Lingchen, if the twelfth level of the Martial Dao cannot break your puppet techniques, then what of the thirteenth?”
The old beggar’s furious roar, filled with resentment and heroic spirit, exploded across the plain like rolling thunder.
Ye Mingke felt his cheek pressed against the icy snow. He knew that he had not yet escaped danger, and he stubbornly fought against unconsciousness. With his weary eyes half closed, he gazed through the snow toward the battlefield ahead.
His consciousness continued to blur little by little.
All he could see was the snow constantly shuddering and leaping from the ground, and the indistinct form of the snow giant within the blizzard.
In his ears came a succession of muffled thunderclaps from somewhere far away, as though they meant to shatter the entire wilderness.
His nerves, rendered terribly fragile by having been stretched taut for far too long, endured the torment of those deafening explosions. He did not know how much time passed before the final thunderous blast rang out, as though it had erupted right beside his ear.
Through his half-closed eyes, he suddenly saw vast waves of snow rolling toward him from the distant edge of his vision. Fierce, icy flakes struck his already-cold face.
He closed his eyes. Yet his overstrained nerves still retained the last fragment of clarity, sensing the sounds around him.
“Is Lingchen dead?” he heard a woman ask.
“I shattered him. But those puppets cannot be killed. I do not know what to do with them,” an old voice replied. “We should see how the young Human Emperor is doing first.”
Before long, Ye Mingke felt the snow covering him being brushed aside, and someone gently lifted his upper body.
“There is also a little girl. She is merely unconscious, though her vitality has suffered some damage.”
“His injuries are severe, and he has lost a great deal of blood. We must bandage him and stop the bleeding first,” a woman said above his head.
Then came the sound of cloth tearing. He felt the wounds that had been causing him endless pain being wrapped in something.
“What should we do with those puppets? They are temporarily sealed inside this wooden casket, but the astral energy sealing them will lose its effect before long.”
“Those things are so sinister. If they escape into the mortal world, who knows how many ordinary people they might kill or injure?”
It sounded as though the woman had brought something over. From the direction of her approach, Ye Mingke suddenly heard countless faint, hoarse whispers of hatred. Even his remnant consciousness felt a trace of fear, and he instinctively shrank back.
It was the instinctive aversion, vigilance, and dread felt by one raised in the light toward darkness and evil.
He suddenly felt a searing pain behind him, accompanied by an intense heat, as though a red-hot iron had appeared there.
Unable to bear it, he let out a muffled groan of pain.
“What is wrong with him?”
“What is he carrying on his back? It is glowing, and it is scalding hot. Quickly, take it off.”
Ye Mingke felt something being removed from his back. The bone-searing heat vanished at once.
After the violent pain, comfort and peace returned. The last fragment of consciousness he possessed could no longer hold on and slid into the abyss of darkness.
The final things he heard were two astonished remarks from the old man and the woman.
“It is a strange sword case. It seems to have no opening at all. Wait—it has opened by itself.”
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“What a powerful aura. This sword case seems to have suppressed that puppet ghost casket. Perhaps we can seal it inside.”
“Is that the sword case Uncle gave me?”
That was the final thought to pass through Ye Mingke’s mind. Then he sank completely into darkness and lost all sensation.
He slept for an extraordinarily long time.
…
When his consciousness gradually awoke from the abyss of unconsciousness, he could still hear the woman and the old man speaking beside him.
“Father, is he really a Human Emperor Physique? He possesses two matching traits—the fire blood and an exceptionally powerful physique—but he does not have golden eyes. He is still different from the Human Emperor Physique described in the legends.”
“Moreover, rapidly healing through blood nourishment carries the risk of losing control. Once he does, he will be no different from a bloodthirsty savage beast. There also seems to be something sinister about him.”
“Anyone who can wield the Human Emperor Sword is naturally a Human Emperor Physique—perhaps even the next Human Emperor. He is the one we have been searching for all these years. Did you not sense the laws of the Martial Dao radiating from the Human Emperor Sword that day?”
“He truly succeeded in awakening the Human Emperor Sword. He is the person we have been seeking all these years.”
“Being somewhat bloodthirsty is hardly a problem. The Human Emperor led humanity out of the primordial wilderness and established our race as the foremost among the myriad peoples. To carve out human territory amid that ancient wilderness, one would naturally have to be somewhat bloodthirsty and warlike.”
The old man’s voice carried stubbornness as he argued in reply.
The two of them were speaking on Ye Mingke’s left and right, pecking at his fragile, sensitive nerves like a pair of woodpeckers. Their incessant voices made his head ache.
He struggled to open his eyes. Before him lay a dimly lit mountain cave. A faint, gloomy light entered from outside; it might have been morning, or perhaps dusk.
“Where is this?”
His eyes were dull and bewildered, and his throat was hoarse with thirst as he asked the question.
“You are awake? Ha! As expected of a Human Emperor Physique. With injuries that severe, you regained consciousness after only a day once you had replenished your blood.”
A huge head, more than half of its face hidden beneath a filthy, tangled beard, suddenly thrust itself before Ye Mingke’s eyes. The old man spoke with obvious excitement.
“Good, you are awake. Boy, once your body has recovered a little, we will set out for the Human Emperor’s inheritance in the south tomorrow. After you fully receive the inheritance and raise your cultivation, the entire human world will depend on you.”
“As for those cultivators who dare to bring calamity upon the human world, remember this: not one of them may be indulged or tolerated.”
“The survival of humanity rests entirely upon your shoulders. You must not show even the slightest negligence.”
The old man fired off his string of words like a rapid volley, battering the newly awakened and still dazed Ye Mingke’s mind into even greater confusion.
I only went to sleep. How did the survival of humanity end up resting on my shoulders when I woke up? Who tied it there?
“Wait, wait. Do not speak so quickly. Let me get my bearings first.”
Ye Mingke raised one hand to interrupt the old man. With his left hand, he rubbed his forehead and struggled to sit up, but no amount of rubbing could make sense of the situation.
In the end, he lifted his head and began with the very first question.
“Where is this?”
He asked in bewilderment, utterly unable to tell north from south.
“This is the Myriad-Mile Dragon Ridge,” replied the woman beside him, who had been silently watching them. Her name was Liu Xi.
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