Volume One: Youthful Encounters in Subtle Times Chapter One Hundred Fifteen: The Hermit's Choice, Part One

In the heart of the lake, the Sword Saint posed a question to the Daoist: "If it is ultimately proven that your belief is mistaken, and because of you, no future generations will ever ascend, would you regret it?"

The Daoist, in truth, did not have absolute certainty. Even though he knew more than others, he could not guarantee that his path was flawless. What if those so-called immortals had deceived him?

Thus, he could not give a definitive answer to such a question of the heart. When one encounters matters even they cannot be sure of, they cannot rely on such a question to find the answer.

Fortunately, the Daoist knew how to face this dilemma. He did not respond directly but instead asked, "Can one shrink back in fear and hesitate just because the road ahead is uncertain? Is this the way of the sword cultivator?"

Though he gave no direct answer, he answered profoundly. He used the Sword cultivator's own spirit—the spirit of the Way of the Sword—to respond, turning the sword’s own spear against its shield. Fortunately, he won the gamble, yet in the end, he gained little.

Just as the Sword Saint was about to withdraw, Li Hongxiao of the Li family saw through the situation. How could she allow the other party to stop just like that? She said to the Sword Saint, "Have you forgotten your duty, elder? Your existence is to guard the Celestial Gate. Now that the Daoist still seeks to destroy it, how can you simply cease? Are you not afraid this will affect the clarity of your Dao heart?"

The Sword Saint frowned slightly upon hearing this. He disliked being forced into decisions, but what she said was indeed true. As a True Spirit, his very being was dedicated to protecting those who had left him behind, even at the cost of his own True Spirit.

At that moment, the Sword Saint of Blades spoke up, "If the elder still wishes to act, why not come spar with me? I have longed to test myself against you!"

The Sword Saint of Blades turning traitor at this critical juncture was unexpected by the others present. The five ancestral elders of the Celestial Gate quickly retorted angrily, "Sword Saint of Blades, how can you do this? Don’t forget, we are on the same side."

The Blade Saint crossed his arms over his sword with a hint of disdain and said, "I never said I was on your side. You assume that yourselves; that’s your business, not mine!"

The Sword Saint saw in the other’s boldness a kindred spirit. The Blade Saint’s path was also one of great swings and freedom—unrestrained. What attracted him most was the Blade Saint’s character—not a hypocritical, sanctimonious man. He was happy to spar. "Very well, then. Let us begin."

With that, he drew his steel-blue sword and struck at the Blade Saint. Facing the Blade Saint, the Sword Saint no longer held back. Each strike contained the full depth of his swordsmanship, representing his strongest combat state.

Why had he not used this profound sword technique against the Daoist? On one hand, he believed the Daoist’s understanding of Daoist magic was equal to his, so no matter how many maneuvers he used, he could not absolutely suppress the Daoist in swordsmanship. Thus, he resorted to challenging the Daoist’s heart and mind. On the other hand, he felt a certain camaraderie with the Daoist and wanted to see just how far he could go.

Now, facing the Blade Saint, he saw that though the Blade Saint’s cultivation hovered around the Fourteenth Realm without breaking through to the Fifteenth, his blade technique was just one step from returning to simplicity—approaching the pinnacle of mortal blade mastery. If so, why not help him, give him a hint?

Therefore, every move was unleashed with full force, putting tremendous pressure on the Blade Saint. Yet, even so, the Blade Saint felt his blade cultivation had long been stagnant, now trembling on the edge of collapse.

The Sword Saint’s first strike was called "Stars Hang Over Boundless Plains." This sword was born when he first killed a man on the open plains early in his sword journey, then looked up to the stars and was inspired. It became the first cornerstone of his sword path, embodying the soaring spirit after taking a life.

The second sword was "A Thousand Miles Without a Trace." After tracking down a culprit on foot, the Sword Saint single-handedly wiped out a demonic sect. Behind this sword, unknown to others, was the feat of killing a person every ten steps—a ruthless, merciless strike. Now wielded again, it was less a contest and more a lesson.

The third sword was "Holding the Sword with a Heavy Heart." Once, the Sword Saint misjudged a person’s heart, killing an innocent by mistake. When he realized the error, it was irreversible. This event became his first test of conscience on the sword path. Fortunately, he regained clarity and redefined his way, creating this sword as a warning along his journey.

...

The eighteenth sword was "Drinking Alone, No Companions." The path of cultivation is like this—the farther one goes, the fewer companions remain. He remembered that his sect once had many fellow travelers, but over time, only a few could walk with him to the end. Ultimately, only he remained. Facing the long loneliness of life and cultivation, he created this final sword, seeking an adversary and a true friend in the sword way.

Each of the eighteen swords bore its own unique spirit. The Blade Saint watched the eighteen beams of sword light flying toward him, his eyes shining with unprecedented fervor. In blade or sword, few rivals could defeat him.

He had challenged powerful figures from the Great Sword Green Mountain, sparring with only three by agreement—unfailingly, he either won or drew, but none had ever imposed such pressure as the Sword Saint before him.

The Daoist, observing with his spirit, saw that although the Sword Saint struck mercilessly, it was more a teaching than a fight. He felt assured and no longer concerned about the Blade Saint’s chance.

He respectfully addressed the four True Spirit Saints before him, "I know you are giving me time to prepare fully, and I am deeply grateful. Now that I am ready, you may attack without restraint."

Indeed, once they understood that the current situation was orchestrated by the Daoist ahead of time, they refrained from striking first, giving him ample opportunity to prepare perfectly.

Now the Daoist spoke thus, they would no longer hold back. They wished to see how far Daoist magic had advanced. The Daoist’s strength was worthy of their serious consideration.

The Master was first to act. From his sleeve, he pulled out a brush and wrote three glowing golden phrases midair: "Respect in residence," "Reverence in duty," and "Loyalty among people."

Upon finishing, the phrases absorbed energy from heaven and earth, transforming into three ropes flying toward the Daoist.

The Daoist understood the intent immediately. The "Respect in residence" rope bound his feet, aiming to restrict his foundation of standing. If bound, he would have no place to stand in this world. The "Reverence in duty" rope targeted his hands, binding his conduct and words in the world. If restrained, he could no longer act among humans. The last, "Loyalty among people," sought to bind his throat. If trapped, he would lose his loyalty as a person—disloyal to others, to heaven and earth, and to himself, losing his very self among others and himself.

"Impressive technique—that must be true Confucian skill," the Daoist admired aloud.

The Master stroked his beard with a smile, "Just humble skills of a small path."

The Daoist then ceased holding back. Instead of withdrawing the "Universe in Palm," he manifested another power: "Heaven’s Heart Infinite."

At the same time, a hidden divine seed in Li Yuxin’s mind whispered, "Little Fish, this is my second divine power, Heaven’s Heart Infinite. Universe in Palm makes oneself the center of the world; Heaven’s Heart Infinite makes oneself the Heavenly Dao of the world. These two powers support each other, forming my strongest divine technique."

No sooner had he spoken than the Daoist’s body began to shimmer, existing between reality and illusion, elusive and mysterious.

When the three ropes flew at him, they passed right through the Daoist without effect. Then, with a hand seal, he commanded the ropes, "Disperse."

The ropes dissolved, their energy returning to the sword formation.

The Master was as shocked as when the Sword Saint had acted. He praised, "Remarkable indeed! Not only can he contain the universe in his palm, but he can also strengthen the Heavenly Dao itself, truly becoming the sovereign of this realm!"

The Old Monk then stepped forward and said to the Master, "He is no longer within this world. Your path of humanity no longer affects him. Allow me."

With hands clasped, he intoned, "All things are impermanent; birth and death are the law. When birth and death cease, blissful tranquility remains."

As he finished, the sky grew translucent and unreal. All established rules began to crumble as if never solid. In an instant, all things flickered between birth and death. Even the Daoist, the center of this world, began to fade as life ebbed from him.

This was the Buddhist divine power, culminating in Nirvana. The Daoist had once journeyed to the Buddha’s land and was not ignorant of this. Years ago, he had discussed Buddhist teachings with the Buddha and understood some of its principles, but this was his first time seeing a saintly monk wield Buddhist divine power.