Eternal Tale

As they spoke, Chen Xun decided to shift the conversation. “Marshal, do you know where the path lies?”

Bai Li Zhonghu looked at him, slightly puzzled. “What do you mean by that?”

“We ventured deep into the War Realm,” Chen Xun explained, “but found no sign of a path forward.”

“The path is ahead. We, the living beings of the Realm, push forward every day, and one day we will eradicate the corrupted beings,” Bai Li Zhonghu replied, his expression hardening as he became once more the formidable Marshal admired by thousands. “With your strength, Daoist Chen, why not join the War Realm Camp?”

The fervor in Bai Li Zhonghu’s gaze was evident. Anyone who could kill so many corrupted beings and still have blood as robust as a dragon had likely cultivated a unique technique. This was his true reason for coming here—to invite Chen Xun personally. Too many Deity Transformation cultivators feared death, biding their time for a path to open up, haunted by the karmic weight of slaying the corrupted.

“Marshal,” Chen Xun said, shaking his head slightly, “there is no path forward. I prefer a life free of obligations and would rather not join a military camp. Your Bai Li Clan has been around since ancient times, so surely you know that the so-called end is just the birthplace of these corrupted beings?”

The atmosphere grew tense at his words, the very air becoming thick with a suffocating weight.

A dark cloud fell over Bai Li Zhonghu’s expression as he locked eyes with Chen Xun, his ink-black hair lifting in an unseen wind, an intense killing aura radiating from him. “What are you implying?”

Xiao Chi’s fur bristled with unease, and he felt a chill run through him.

Brother Ox let out a warning bellow, standing tall and glaring at Bai Li Zhonghu, ready to activate their escape formation if things turned hostile.

In the distance, ten War Realm vessels ignited a crimson glow as a faint killing intent spread from them. The troops aboard sensed the tension on the mountain and stood ready, awaiting the Marshal’s command.

Yet, Chen Xun only offered a small, calm smile as he sipped his tea, seemingly unafraid. There was no trace of actual intent to kill from Bai Li Zhonghu, only a profound unease.

“Marshal,” Chen Xun began, his gaze sharpening, “all the sacrifices of your people are in vain, and this advance is pointless.”

His voice deepened, carrying an intensity that pierced the silence. “There are countless Deity Transformation-level corrupted beings in the depths of the War Realm. Are you going to keep sending your people to die without purpose?”

Bai Li Zhonghu’s lips curled into a humorless smile, and he replied calmly, “It seems you know some truths, Daoist Chen, perhaps even as a descendant of the ancient clans.”

“It’s irrelevant who I am. The truth remains: the path is blocked. Instead of pushing forward, the focus should be on fortifying the Celestial River, nurturing stronger cultivators.”

Bai Li Zhonghu cut him off, standing with fierce resolve that made his very voice tremble. “Daoist Chen, do you even know the truth of the ancient wars?”

“Does the truth change anything now?” Chen Xun countered, rising to meet Bai Li Zhonghu’s gaze with equal intensity. “The corrupted beings are using up the life force of the living beings in this Realm, while their strongest cultivate in the rear. What are you advancing with?”

A fierce wind whipped around them as the tension between the two men reached its peak. Brother Ox and Xiao Chi stared at Chen Xun in shock—he had never shown interest in such matters before, and now he stood, challenging the very Marshal of the War Realm Camp.

Bai Li Zhonghu’s face darkened like a gathering storm, his eyes cold as a bloodthirsty beast’s. The two men locked gazes, their powerful energies clashing, filling the space between them with an oppressive, electric tension.

Cracks spread across the ground beneath them, the mountain quivering from the sheer force of their confrontation. Bai Li Zhonghu’s black armor shimmered, his ink-black hair floating as he spoke.

“You, a mere Deity Transformation cultivator, dare to spout such madness? Who says our advance is meaningless? Who dares claim that the sacrifice of the beings in this Realm is for nothing?” he roared, his voice thundering across the landscape.

“Do you not realize,” he continued, voice thick with conviction, “that if the War Realm Camp were to cease its advance, all hope for this Realm would be lost? People would know there’s no path forward, and with that knowledge, chaos would consume us. Corrupted beings would overrun us, and we would be defenseless!”

He swept his hand toward the distant mountains. “The Bai Li Clan, the people of Da Li, the countless beings who have bled on this battlefield for a thousand years—all proclaim that there is hope beyond, a path past the Celestial River!”

He pointed to the mountain of corpses surrounding them. “Chen Xun, you stand here only because of the so-called meaningless sacrifice of those who came before. Without that sacrifice, you wouldn’t even exist in this Realm!”

Bai Li Zhonghu’s voice carried through the heavens, filled with an unshakable resolve that left Chen Xun speechless.

“Since the day I entered this battlefield,” Bai Li Zhonghu declared, “I never once thought of returning alive. I’ll fight until my last drop of blood is shed!” Ｒἁ𐌽∅ᛒËＳ

This was a true War Marshal, a leader who, despite knowing the grim reality, stood firm, unaffected by the heart-devouring demon trial, committed not to personal gain or survival but to preserving hope for future generations.

Chen Xun took a deep breath, his heart stirred by the Marshal’s words, struggling to find the right words.

Brother Ox and Xiao Chi were equally moved, retreating a few steps, their jaws dropping at this revelation. Such a cultivator was beyond anything they had ever seen—a warrior who had truly placed his life on the line, thinking not of his cultivation but of others.

Xiao Chi, who only half-understood, whispered to himself, “Four thousand years of life… isn’t it better to just live in peace?” His face was solemn, still somewhat in awe.

Chen Xun’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “I was just sharing a thought, Marshal. There’s no need to take it too seriously.”

He gave a slight shrug and added with a mischievous glint, “But I will say, Marshal, you’d have a hard time cutting me down. If you don’t believe it, feel free to try.”

“Moo!” Brother Ox snorted proudly. What Brother Xun said was true—if things got rough, they’d just teleport out and regroup elsewhere.

Bai Li Zhonghu’s expression flickered, a frustrated look passing over his face. He had to admit that Chen Xun was quite the slippery character. He couldn’t figure out the man’s origins, but one thing was certain—this was no ordinary cultivator. The surname “Chen” was too common to draw any conclusions, yet there was an unmistakable mystery about him.

Realizing this, Bai Li Zhonghu’s fierce demeanor softened slightly. With a deep sigh, he slowly sat down, his posture still upright and dignified, but his eyes took on a distant, weary look.

The hardened lines of his face softened with sorrow, his once-steely gaze now filled with the weight of time. Years of hardship and countless battles lay heavy on his brow, and he seemed for a moment like a man carrying the grief of a thousand lifetimes.

Chen Xun quietly took his seat, letting the silence stretch, waiting for the Marshal to continue.

“At the dawn of existence,” Bai Li Zhonghu began, “the Realm was open and without corrupted beings. There was always a path beyond.”

His frown deepened as he struggled to keep the bleak truth from being shared, desperate to preserve the hope so many had died to keep alive. “Daoist Chen, please, listen carefully.”

Chen Xun nodded, his expression serious.

Beside him, Brother Ox and Xiao Chi let out quiet sighs of relief. The moment of tension had passed, and now, they leaned in, eager to learn the truth.

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