Volume One: Youths Meet in Humble Times Chapter Twelve: Let Me Teach You How to Become a God

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The Mountain God, having just dealt with the torrents of the Heavenly River, looked weary, his strength waning. Seizing the opportunity, Lu Ming’s blade found its mark; the Mountain God, unable to evade, could only watch as the sword pierced his celestial crown.

If it had been an ordinary sword, the Mountain God would hardly have cared; such a blade would not even have broken his defense, and even if it did, his formidable divine consciousness would have dispelled it with ease. But as the sword light entered his body, he realized this was no mere sword—it was a Dao Sword.

This Dao Sword, though lacking the flamboyant spectacle of Lie Yankong’s three-legged Golden Crow, birthed from the inferno of solar flames, or Shui Linglong’s Heavenly River cascading from the sky, shocked those present more profoundly. Even the hidden sage lurking in the depths of space revealed a look of admiration, murmuring, “With such a disciple, Green Mountain’s Dao lineage shall never perish.”

Lie Yankong and Shui Linglong, seeing Lu Ming’s Dao Sword, were equally astonished. Though neither wielded the sword as adeptly as Lu Ming, the aura of the Dao Sword emanating from his strike was palpable. Had either of them faced such a blow, only death would have awaited them.

The Mountain God, bearing the brunt of the sword, felt its impact most acutely. Within his sea of consciousness, no matter how his divine sense fought, it could not dispel the sword light. He could only watch as streaks of Dao Sword energy churned his mind, causing excruciating pain. Forced to focus all his attention on this internal turmoil, he had no choice but to ignore the three adversaries outside, whose predatory gazes bore down on him.

Yet this was not the end. As the Dao Sword penetrated his sea of consciousness, turbulent waves rose, and from the surface surged billows of black mist. These vapors melded into the sky above his spiritual sea, dyeing it a profound, inky black.

The Mountain God’s face changed dramatically. He understood what this black mist was: every being, god or not, harbors inner demons so long as they possess desire or emotion.

Normally, these demons were suppressed deep within his consciousness, but the Dao Sword had drawn them forth, fusing them with the sky above his spiritual sea to form a new, ominous firmament.

Previously, the Mountain God had not grasped the true intent of the Dao Sword. Now, however, Lu Ming’s plan was clear. Above the sea of consciousness was the spiritual platform, where the divine soul resided. Lu Ming knew his Dao Sword could not shatter this barrier unaided, but with the Mountain God’s own inner demons as allies, the effort would be halved and the reward doubled.

Thus, the Dao Sword had plunged into the depths to enlist the aid of the Mountain God’s heart demons.

Those demons were born of the resentments and obsessions of those who had perished due to the Mountain God’s selfishness over the years, their hatred toward him boundless. Now, with someone offering the chance to destroy the Mountain God, they would not hesitate.

The Mountain God could only watch helplessly as the Dao Sword, empowered by his own demons, surged toward the sky above his sea of consciousness.

Regret now seized him. For Lu Ming truly possessed the power to kill him; within the Mountain God’s mind, the true seal of his mountain spirit was useless. The Dao Sword thus represented Lu Ming’s true strength, amplified by all the innate sword intent he could muster—a blow, the strongest he had ever struck in his life.

As the Dao Sword entered, Lu Ming’s spirit followed. When the moment was ripe, his left hand formed the sword gesture, gathering the last of his strength, and pointed at the Mountain God’s brow, shouting, “Break!”

Though wracked by agony from the havoc within his consciousness, the Mountain God kept a sliver of attention on the world outside, wary of further attacks. Yet he did not expect Lu Ming’s next move, which, though physically distant, still resonated within his inner world.

The hidden sage, witnessing this, was even more impressed. “First, the Dao Sword pierces the body; then, it becomes the guide; finally, with the wielder’s own spirit forged into a blade, bestowing its final strength—a masterful blend of courage and wisdom. Truly a prodigy destined for the way of the sword.”

With the combined forces, the Dao Sword finally pierced the blackened sky. From that darkness burst a dazzling white light, instantly shattering the clouds into pieces, which were then devoured. Gradually, clarity returned, the sky and sea vast and serene once more.

As the Dao Sword’s power manifested, Lu Ming’s spirit was expelled from the Mountain God’s body, and a surge of force flung him to the ground.

Li Yu, who had watched in anxious silence, felt useless for not being able to help. All he could do was pray for their safety and furtively glance at the sage, hoping he would intervene. But the sage remained an observer, never showing any intention to help, which left Li Yu feeling helpless.

He understood: if the sage wished to act, he would do so unbidden; his inaction meant he was either unwilling or simply uninterested.

When Lu Ming fell from the sky, Li Yu hurried to his side, asking, “Are you all right?”

Lu Ming spat out a mouthful of blood, wiped it away, and offered a gentle reassurance, “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

With that, he turned his gaze to the Mountain God, who, having unleashed his power, could not sustain it for long and soon plummeted from the sky.

All three felt a heavy weight in their hearts, for though the Mountain God was gravely wounded, he was still alive.

Finally, the Mountain God could bear it no longer. He spat a mouthful of blood, collapsed to the ground, and growled, “I thought you would just stand by and watch me die.”

Behind him, the dark, monstrous face began to reemerge, its tone mocking, “I never imagined you’d be so useless, nearly destroyed by those three.”

Indeed, though the three seemed to fight independently, their cooperation was flawless.

Lie Yankong first shattered the Mountain God’s suppression, then Shui Linglong struck to weaken him further, creating the perfect moment for Lu Ming’s decisive blow. Lu Ming seized that chance with precision and speed, catching the Mountain God off guard.

Unfortunately, despite their meticulous planning, they had failed to anticipate that the Illusion Demon would intervene to shield the Mountain God’s spiritual platform.

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Their estimation of the Illusion Demon’s power rose yet again.

The three exchanged glances, each giving a bitter smile. They had underestimated their foe.

After a moment’s recovery, the Mountain God stood, his expression vicious as he faced them. “No matter what tricks you have left, this ends now.”

The Illusion Demon had not only blocked the Dao Sword’s final strike but also restored some of the Mountain God’s strength.

Now, the Mountain God’s body was shrouded in black mist, laced with crimson malice; he could no longer be called a Mountain God, but rather—a Mountain Demon.

No sooner had he spoken than his hands flashed through a series of incantations. He thrust his palms down, releasing a rune that slammed into the earth.

The ground exploded; the entire mountain, save for the portion protected by the barrier, fractured and scarred.

From the fissures emerged three dazzling orbs of light, which flew before the Mountain Demon. He sliced his brow, letting a stream of blood fall onto the orbs, which quickly transformed into three beings identical to the Mountain Demon—gods, or rather, demons.

Lie Yankong could no longer restrain himself and roared, “Are you truly going to exhaust all the earth energy in this place? You’ve watched over these lands for a thousand years—do you feel nothing for them?”

Those three orbs were the source of vitality for a hundred miles around Red Spring Mountain. Without them, the land would become barren, devoid of life forever.

They had not expected the Mountain God could cultivate to such a degree, breaking the ultimate taboo to extract the very root of his existence.

Indeed, those orbs were his life-source, the key to his undying divinity.

The Mountain Demon sneered, “If I care not for my own divinity, why would I care for the fate of mere ants? How naive you all are.”

With that, the three demons each launched themselves at Lu Ming and his companions, their attacks merciless and savage.

Wounded and depleted of strength, the three could not withstand many exchanges before being overwhelmed. Li Yu, desperate, glanced at the sage, hoping for help, only to find himself paralyzed. The battle’s shockwaves could not touch him, nor could he move.

As they neared their breaking point, Lu Ming sent them a message; the three retreated to Li Yu’s side.

Seeing this, the Mountain Demon sneered, “Trying to run? Foolish—none of you will escape.”

As he spoke, the True Seal of the Mountain Spirit materialized above them, forming an isolated world. The three orbs merged into a trident, brimming with murderous energy, which stabbed toward them.

The oppressive force bore down on all four—a shackle of the Great Dao itself.

Though the Mountain God had not yet truly entered the Dao, his cultivation was half a step into it. Even this half-step left them powerless, their deaths seemingly inevitable.

At that critical moment, a bloody line appeared on Lu Ming’s brow, revealing the tip of a sword.

Lu Ming shouted, “Open!”

A fissure appeared before them. Lie Yankong and Shui Linglong, faces alight with hope, grabbed Li Yu and Lu Ming, leaping into the rift just as the trident struck. The weapon shattered the fissure, but those within were already gone.

The Mountain Demon, furious, prepared to give chase, but the Illusion Demon said coldly, “If you want to die out there, I won’t stop you.”

“But just let them go? I can’t accept that!”

The Illusion Demon remained disdainful. “Rashness unmatched by strength is but recklessness.”

Before the Mountain Demon could protest, the Illusion Demon continued, “I am on the verge of success; the drought fiend is about to ascend, and I cannot risk anything now. I cannot lend you more power. If you insist on going, I won’t stop you.”

“And besides, how do you know this isn’t a trap to lure you out?”

Reminded thus, the Mountain Demon recalled their secret communication moments ago. If this was truly a ploy, charging in would be suicide.

Reluctantly, he swallowed his frustration and did nothing.

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Meanwhile, the four managed to escape by the narrowest of margins.

Lu Ming, already spent, had to break through not only the Mountain Spirit’s true seal but also the great defensive array of Changlin City. Thus, they only managed to reach the vicinity of Li Yu’s home.

Shui Linglong asked, “Senior Brother Lie, are you sure they won’t pursue us?”

Lie Yankong looked back at the ruined Red Spring Mountain, his voice weary. “They shouldn’t. The Illusion Demon has never truly intervened—he must be at a critical juncture and unwilling to risk it. As for the Mountain Demon, even if he wants to chase, the Illusion Demon won’t let him.”

None of the three were fools; having experienced so much, they quickly understood Lie Yankong’s meaning.

And indeed, from the moment Lu Ming split open space to their emergence, Red Spring Mountain remained silent—proof that their gamble had paid off.

The Illusion Demon’s sole intent was to raise the flying drought fiend; now, on the cusp of success, he would not abandon his goal. The Mountain Demon, needing him, could only obey.

Li Yu looked at his three disheveled companions, wanting to speak, but no words came. He had witnessed the entire desperate battle, and though he did not understand everything, he sensed how perilous it had been. Their escape was nothing short of miraculous. If such powerful cultivators could not destroy the evil within Red Spring Mountain, what could he do?

No—even if there was little he could accomplish, he would still try. Some things must be done, not out of reckless passion, but with the resolve to perish together if need be.

Lu Ming noticed Li Yu’s silence. At first, disappointment flickered across his face, but it was quickly replaced by steely determination. Remembering all Li Yu had done along their journey, Lu Ming knew he was resolved to die if necessary. He patted Li Yu’s head, and said solemnly, “Trust me. Though we failed to destroy them this time, I swear that within my lifetime, I will slay that fiend with my own hands.”

Shui Linglong, hearing Lu Ming’s promise to Li Yu, chimed in, “That’s right. We will not let him go unpunished.”

Lie Yankong, after a moment’s thought, said, “I fear things are not so simple. With the Mountain God fallen to demonic ways, and with the Yellow Springs Sect involved—hiding their meddling from even the heavens—this is clearly about more than just them.”

Shui Linglong asked, “Could it be related to the Imperial Supreme Hall in Heavenly Capital?”

Lie Yankong shook his head and sighed, “It’s only a guess; I can’t be sure. The best course is to report to the sect—this is beyond our ability to resolve.”

Shui Linglong fell silent, understanding the significance of the Imperial Supreme Hall. Her own sect could not hope to oppose them; of the three, only Lu Ming’s Great Sword Green Mountain might attract their attention.

Her gaze drifted to Lu Ming and Li Yu—seeing their growing closeness, she felt a pang of envy.

Lu Ming’s strength had been proven; to split open space with a single sword was to have entered the Dao, yet his true cultivation was only at the seventh realm. If he ever truly stepped into the Dao, unleashing all his talent, how terrifying would he become?

And then there was Li Yu, whose sword embryo was no less than Lu Ming’s. If he joined Great Sword Green Mountain, in time it might rival even the Imperial Supreme Hall.

It seemed the greatest beneficiary of this journey was Great Sword Green Mountain.

Lie Yankong saw what Shui Linglong saw; when their eyes met after glancing at Li Yu, both recognized the bitterness and envy in each other.

But then a thought struck them—so long as Li Yu had not yet joined Great Sword Green Mountain, there was still a chance for them! If they succeeded, not only would their sect gain a rare talent, strengthening its ranks, but they themselves would earn greater favor, perhaps even the friendship of one destined for greatness—a prospect with nothing but benefits.

Though nothing was certain, the two could not help but feel a surge of hope and anticipation.

Lu Ming and Li Yu both sensed the change in the other two’s gazes—like hunters spotting prized game.

Li Yu, quick-witted since childhood and well-versed in the ways of the world, was especially sensitive to such looks.

Lu Ming, cultivating a sword path of clarity and brilliance, was even more finely attuned to shifts in emotion. He knew what they were thinking but did not mind—such things were governed by fate, not force. His true concern was not Li Yu’s future, but whether Li Yu might seek death.

Lu Ming pulled them from their reverie, and together the four slowly made their way back to Li Yu’s home.

As for what the future held, they would simply leave it to fate.