Chapter Thirty-One: On the Brink of Despair

In his mind, images of the Divine Healer of Hundreds of Herbs, Lu Xuemei, Lu Yao, Lu Zhengtian, Lin Huashu, and the trio of Kuihu flashed by one after another. Lastly, he recalled the moment he interrupted Du Qingfeng’s registration and broke both his legs—now, he more or less understood why he was being hunted down. Yet even so, if by some chance he survived, when confronted with such injustice again, he would never stand idle; he would make the same choice as he had today. At this moment, Li Hao did not regret his decision—only lamented his own lack of strength.

Forced to leap from the cliff, Li Hao descended slowly into an abyss without end. Closing his eyes, scene after scene replayed within his mind. He thought to himself: there are still so many things I have yet to accomplish; I have not seen my mother, nor my father, nor have I found my grandfather. The more he thought, the more he realized he might perish here, and an unyielding bitterness welled up inside him. Tears quietly slipped from his eyes.

At this very moment, the realm he had forcibly attained by borrowing external power began to steadily collapse, falling back to the peak of the Foundation Building Realm before finally coming to rest. In truth, it was not that the borrowed power had vanished, but rather, the primordial chaotic force within him had forcibly compressed the strength of an entire higher realm down to the very pinnacle of Foundation Building.

Such was the defiant power of primordial chaos—if it had been any other power, it would have long since dissipated, and not only would he have reverted to his original state, even his previous cultivation would have suffered. But primordial chaos was different: it could compress and refine external force, transforming it into one’s own. Li Hao had no knowledge of this, nor did Xiao Jiu; the little spirit simply thought this was the backlash from Li Hao’s reckless breakthrough, achieved by borrowing the force sealed by the Divine Lord Liyang in the Nine-Dragon War Halberd. Xiao Jiu vaguely sensed that this peculiar power within his master’s body could temper the flesh, but as for its true nature or other effects, he was entirely ignorant.

Not to mention this bottomless abyss—even if they were traversing the storms of the void, Xiao Jiu could keep Li Hao safe. Unfortunately, Xiao Jiu was sealed by the Divine Lord Liyang within the Nine-Dragon War Halberd, which now lay submerged in Li Hao’s sea of consciousness. Unless Li Hao broke through to the Roaming Realm, he could not summon the halberd, nor could Xiao Jiu break the seal.

If Li Hao were to perish here, Xiao Jiu would not escape either. Inwardly, the little spirit roared in defiance: “No! I cannot just sit and await death. Think! Think! Remain calm—there must be a way!”

Li Hao’s descent grew ever swifter, yet Xiao Jiu was still at a loss. The sense of helplessness was overwhelming—possessing the power of the Peak Return-to-Origin Realm, yet unable to deploy even the strength of the Roaming Realm. In that moment, Xiao Jiu was like a battle-hardened marshal facing a newborn infant—utterly powerless.

The force Li Hao released by biting his finger and pressing it to his brow earlier was not Xiao Jiu’s power from the halberd, but rather the mighty force sealed by the Divine Lord Liyang together with Xiao Jiu. This force carried the Lord’s ten thousand years of cultivation, but each use diminished it, and once depleted, the halberd would only be as powerful as Li Hao himself—Xiao Jiu’s enhancement notwithstanding. After all, as the Divine Lord once said, even Xiao Jiu’s own power could only match Li Hao’s current realm.

Xiao Jiu could only comfort himself: “Master will be fine—fortune favors the worthy.”

Li Hao continued to fall, the distance growing ever greater.

A hundred meters.

A thousand meters.

Ten thousand meters.

Yet the abyss below remained bottomless. As time dragged on, Xiao Jiu, in despair, closed his eyes and waited for death.

Far away, millions of kilometers from the Lujia Mountain Star Region, in the grand hall symbolizing the supreme authority of the Liytian Star Domain, the Supreme Lord Liytian suddenly felt a stifling weight in his heart, his brow furrowing, his face paling. Seeing this, the Dragon Emperor at his side asked, “Brother, what’s wrong?”

The Supreme Lord waved it off, “Dragon Brother, it’s nothing.”

The Dragon Emperor, half-convinced, replied, “As long as you’re fine.”

Just then, a beautiful maid hurried into the hall, dropping to her knees ten paces from the throne. “Reporting, Your Majesty—the Lady has just fainted.”

The Supreme Lord turned to the Dragon Emperor. “Brother Dragon, let’s postpone the meeting until tomorrow.”

“Go on, brother! I’ll inform the others.”

No sooner had he spoken than the Supreme Lord vanished from the hall, reappearing instantly in the palace chambers. “What happened?” he asked.

A gentle voice replied from the dressing table, “Husband, I’m alright.”

“You may all leave,” the Supreme Lord ordered, dismissing the attendants. Sitting beside his wife, Mo Rou, he asked, “Rou’er, I heard you fainted just now. What happened?”

“I don’t know, I just felt a sudden tightness in my chest and became drowsy,” she replied, equally confused.

“I think I felt the same just now,” the Supreme Lord shared what had just happened to him.

“Could it be something happened to Hao’er?” she wondered. For both of them to feel the same blood-deep connection, it could only mean Li Hao was in danger.

“Don’t worry, Rou’er. I’ll send someone to check on the Lujia Mountain Star Region right away.”

“Alright.”

They could do nothing but worry and wait. For ten years, they had yearned for their son, and the Divine Lord Liyang, none of whom had returned.

“Brother Golden Crow, may I trouble you to send a messenger to the Lujia Mountain Star Region to check on Hao’er?”

“Don’t worry, brother, I’ll see to it at once.” With that, the Golden Crow Sovereign disappeared from the grand hall.

“Hao’er! Forgive me! I have been an unworthy father—ten years, and never once have I been at your side, not even for a moment.”

The Supreme Lord’s heart ached at the thought of his son growing up without their protection.

...

In a daze, Li Hao seemed to see once again that dignified, beautiful woman who often appeared in his dreams. She felt indescribably gentle, but no matter how hard he tried, her features remained indistinct, her name inaudible—only her anxious calling reached him. In his half-conscious state, Li Hao uttered two words: “Mother!”

As he cried out, he felt as though the woman was calling to him. Instinctively, he reached out, and his hand grasped the talon of the Golden-Winged Roc. In his sea of consciousness, Xiao Jiu, seeing the roc come to the rescue, finally felt the weight in his heart lift—a weariness deeper than any he had known before.

After killing the first masked assailant, the second wave of attacks from the next black-robed figure descended. Luckily, the roc’s wings had regained some feeling, allowing it to shrink its body severalfold by instinct, barely dodging the blow. The assailant was startled—he had struck the left wing with full force, yet it remained unscathed.

At last, the Golden-Winged Roc, with a desperate, do-or-die move, smashed the masked assailant’s skull with a single talon. Yet its steel-like claw was also slashed by the enemy’s sword—so nearly severed, the wound gaped and bled alarmingly.

Having defeated four opponents of equal strength, the roc, enduring the pain, mustered the last remnants of its power to the cliff’s edge, just in time to see Li Hao’s form dwindling below, falling faster and faster.

At this point, the roc cared for nothing else—using the last of its strength, it dived after Li Hao at full speed. Misfortune never comes singly: the deeper it flew, the heavier the gravity became. By the time it reached Li Hao, it could barely withstand the crushing force of the abyss. It managed to grab Li Hao’s collar, but with a rip, its sharp talons tore the fabric, and Li Hao began to fall again. The roc realized that if it went further, both it and Li Hao would be crushed by the abyss’s gravity. To its surprise, Li Hao suddenly reached out and seized its claw.

Had it not been for the roc’s earlier, exhausting battle, diving another hundred thousand feet would have been nothing. But as Li Hao grabbed its claw, the roc shrank itself to roughly Li Hao’s size and, with the last ounce of its power, began to ascend.

As Li Hao clung to the roc’s talon, his mind cleared. When they were three thousand zhang from the cliff top, the roc’s strength gave out and they began to fall again. In his sea of consciousness, Xiao Jiu sensed danger and urgently called out:

“Hurry! Channel the power of your own laws and lend it to the roc!”

At the reminder, Li Hao responded instantly, imbuing the roc with his own strength. With the boost, the roc managed, through sheer force of will, to carry Li Hao back up the cliff.

Once they reached the top, the Golden-Winged Roc collapsed, its strength utterly spent, reverting to its true form and falling unconscious atop Li Hao, pinning him to the ground. Using hands and feet, Li Hao finally managed to push aside its wings and crawl out.

Emerging, he saw the ghastly wound on the roc’s talon, its left wing hanging limp. Quickly, he reached into his chest pocket for all sorts of restorative pills and healing salves.

After swallowing a pill, the Golden-Winged Roc slowly opened its golden eyes to look at Li Hao, then closed them again, drifting off. Li Hao, seeing it sleep, quickly applied the healing salve to the wound, watching it heal with the naked eye. Noting the severe injury to the left wing, he applied a soothing, pain-relieving ointment. As he worked, he circulated his own power to help the medicine penetrate the roc’s meridians and bones.

When all was done, Li Hao sat quietly at the roc’s side. Seeing the creature in such a wretched state, his heart brimmed with guilt. In that moment, his resolve to cultivate and become stronger was firmer than ever.

With heartfelt sincerity, he said, “Friend, you’ve suffered greatly—thank you.”

Hearing his gratitude, the Golden-Winged Roc slowly opened its eyes and shook its head, signaling Li Hao not to worry. Having faced death together, their friendship had deepened beyond words.

Had Li Hao not risked his life to lure away the two masked assassins, the roc could never have triumphed alone against four. Without the roc, Li Hao would also have perished—each was indispensable to the other.

After such a harrowing ordeal, they had come within a hair’s breadth of annihilation. Now, sitting by the roc’s side, Li Hao silently recalled every terrifying moment—from being hunted by masked assassins, to luring them away, to leaping off the cliff, to the desperate climb back up as the roc collapsed. Each time, death had been only a breath away.

As he sat there, images of these perilous moments flooded his mind, leaving him with a lingering dread.