After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 66

Ethereal, wispy smoke enveloped the grand hall, where hundreds of celestial officials knelt with their heads bowed to the ground.

 

Each kept their gaze so low that they dared not even breathe loudly.

 

The woman seated high upon the throne leaned lazily against her chair, her cold eyes sweeping over the prostrate figures.

 

“Worthless.”

 

Two icy words from Xianzhu were enough to make the deeply bowed celestial officials wish they could turn into a handful of dust and vanish into the floor.

 

“Divine Maiden…” Wuji Xuanshi, standing below the throne, lifted his eyes but immediately knelt again upon meeting her gaze. “We beseech Your Highness to lead the expedition personally, to eradicate the Crow Python Sea and unify the three realms!”

 

At once, all the kneeling celestial officials echoed in unison: “We beseech Your Highness to lead the expedition personally, to eradicate the Crow Python Sea and unify the three realms!”

 

“May the Divine Maiden lead the expedition personally, eradicate the Crow Python Sea, and unify the three realms!”

Wave after wave of pleas reverberated through the Qingyang Hall, grating on Ye Qingge’s nerves unbearably.

 

Ever since returning from Mount Taibai that day, Ye Qingge had slept for three full days.

 

During those three days of slumber, she was tormented by nightmares. Endless blood drowning her until she could no longer breathe.

 

Her love tribulation had just been broken, allowing her to break through the final layer of her cultivation. Before losing consciousness, the last thing she remembered was the voices of the celestial beings around her exclaiming: “Congratulations, Divine Maiden, for achieving the Great Perfection of the Path of Heartlessness.”

 

In the three days Ye Qingge lay unconscious, Wuli and Siji had slaughtered the twelve clans stationed in the mortal realm, gathering countless demons and preparing to drench the human world in blood.

 

With the borders breached, not one of the hundred celestial beings in the heavenly realm could lead the troops into battle. All were awaiting the Divine Maiden’s command.

 

Ye Qingge, having just regained her full spiritual power and not yet fully accustomed to her body, forced herself to ascend the throne.

 

The hall was already filled with those who had come to plead for mercy.

 

Countless celestial officials and the annihilated clans filled Qingyang Hall.

 

Amidst the incessant wailing, the figure seated high on the throne declared coldly, “All celestial beings, heed my command: we march to the Crow Python Sea.”

 

The order echoed through the hall, met with a chorus of agreement.

 

It was the third day of the third month, and the snow had yet to cease.

 

Luoyang City, blanketed in white, remained bustling and lively. The plains, which rarely saw snow, were now caught in an unending snowfall. Though spring was delayed, people remained in high spirits, viewing the persistent snow as an auspicious sign.

 

“Eh? Why has the sky suddenly darkened?”

 

Hearing the exclamation, many diners looked up. A dark cloud drifted across the previously azure sky, plunging the surroundings into instant gloom.

 

“They say the immortals in the heavens are fighting!” someone in the crowd remarked. “Otherwise, this snow wouldn’t have lasted three months!”

 

Another immediately retorted, “What do the affairs of the heavens have to do with us mortals? The weather worsens each year, the seasons shift later and later, and day and night are constantly reversed. Are we heading toward the destruction of heaven and earth?”

“Didn’t they say a Divine Maiden rules the heavens? You’d better go pay your respects at the Divine Maiden Temple later!”

 

“Pah, what Divine Maiden? I don’t believe in any of that.”

 

“Don’t be so dismissive. They say four years ago, at the end of the year, when Huashan was massacred, the Divine Maiden appeared and saved the entire mountain.”

 

“Wasn’t it said that unceasing snow is an auspicious sign? ‘A timely snow promises a good harvest,’ but this snow has gone on far too long!”

 

Sitting at the edge of the crowd, a young girl seemed oblivious to the discussions around her. She remained seated, quietly sipping the sweet soup from her bowl.

 

Meanwhile, the dark clouds in the sky had already descended, and the previously bright day instantly turned gloomy.

 

The diners who had been sitting outside hurriedly picked up their bowls, rushing into the shop while shouting, “Waiter! Light the lamps! It’s getting dark!”

 

People jostled one another in the rush, and a diner accidentally knocked over a sword from a neighboring table.

 

“Sorry! So sorry,” he said, bending down to pick it up. But just as his hand reached for it, the sword flew into the air and landed steadily back on the table.

 

The sword’s owner didn’t even lift her eyes, merely saying calmly, “It’s fine.”

 

The diner was stunned by the flying sword and momentarily forgot to run inside, staring intently at its owner.

 

A young woman in a bright yellow dress, her black hair tied up with a white jade crown, seemed completely indifferent to the sudden, eerie darkness.

 

From this angle, her full face couldn’t be seen, only her slender, elegant profile—spirited and sharp—sitting upright in the dark like an ever-burning lamp.

 

“It’s dark, miss. Aren’t you going inside to take shelter?” the diner asked, captivated, his voice softening.

 

Ling Lan finished the sweet soup in her bowl in one gulp and set it down. “No need, I’m done.”

 

As she stood, the sword on the table immediately flew up and hovered obediently by her side.

 

Even after she had walked far away, the diner remained standing there, dazed and unable to snap out of it.

 

The sky had completely darkened. Ling Lan stepped into the snow, her shoes and socks already soaked, but she paid it no mind.

 

After passing Luoyang City, she would ascend Serpent Mountain.

 

It was said that Serpent Mountain was the only path to the Crow Python Sea, and the entire mountain teemed with demons. Each one sinister and treacherous, making it an extremely perilous place.

 

Yet that most dangerous of places was Ling Lan’s final destination.

 

She touched the pouch close to her heart, inside which lay a shattered white jade button.

 

Three years ago, during the human world’s New Year festival, she had climbed Mount Taibai. Amid the fireworks and celebrations covering the mountain, Ling Lan saw Jiang Mianhao lying in a pool of blood.

 

Before she could reach her, Jiang Mianhao turned to ashes and vanished before her eyes. Meanwhile, Lu Jiu was escorted back to the heavenly realm by a crowd of immortals.

 

Ling Lan had dug three feet deep in that small wooden cabin, only to find this shattered white jade button, stained with blood.

 

They had parted just half a month earlier, never imagining it would be the last thing Jiang Mianhao left behind in this world.

 

And from that night on, Lu Jiu had vanished without a trace.

 

Mount Taibai remained as lively as ever, but it lacked Jiang Mianhao’s laughter.

 

Ling Lan firmly believed that Jiang Mianhao was still alive somewhere. For three years, she had searched tirelessly. Climbing countless treacherous, perilous places, narrowly escaping death time and again yet found nothing.

 

This time, Ling Lan was staking her last hope on Serpent Mountain.

 

Legend had it that among the demon tribes there was one skilled in a forbidden art capable of resurrecting all things. Whether a soul had scattered or a body had dissipated, this forbidden art could bring them back.

 

Ling Lan ran her fingers over the bones beneath her skin and stepped into the darkness ahead, carrying her only bargaining chip.

 

With the Goddess leading the troops, the deities had a pillar of strength.

 

Along the way, they slaughtered countless demons that attacked them, their black blood spreading across the ground and flowing straight into the Crow Python Sea.

 

The serpent birds, in the midst of their breeding season, couldn’t react in time and were tragically slain by the sword before they could escape.

 

Ye Qingge stood with her hands clasped behind her back on the Crow Python Sea, coldly watching the slaughter unfold beneath her feet.

With a mere flick of her sleeve, countless ice blades shot forth, moving so fast that the guarding serpent birds perished before they could even react.

 

Having broken the first taboo of killing, the Goddess led the charge, and the remaining celestial soldiers roared as they surged toward the Crow Python Sea.

 

When the soldiers fought their way into the Crow Python Hall, they found that neither Wuli nor Sijiu could be seen.

 

The remaining snakes and birds in the Crow Python Sea were of all ages, from freshly hatched eggs to those in the midst of giving birth.

 

“Goddess, it seems Wuli and Sijiu have already fled!” the leading celestial soldier knelt at Ye Qingge’s feet. “However, this is the breeding season for snakes and birds, and all remaining remnants have been eliminated.”

 

Ye Qingge hummed in acknowledgment. “Just moments before we arrived, they descended into Snake Mountain.”

 

“What does the Goddess mean?” The soldier dared not act rashly, waiting quietly for Ye Qingge’s command.

 

“Leave one squad here to clean up the remnants,” Ye Qingge said indifferently. She lifted her eyes lightly, and the Frostblade Sword beside her soared into the air.

 

The sword shimmered, its sword spirit materializing into human form and kneeling before Ye Qingge.

“Frostblade awaits your command, Goddess.”

 

“Descend into Snake Mountain and eliminate the remnants.”

 

“Yes!”

 

The blue sword spirit vanished in a flash.

 

The celestial soldiers who had received their orders quickly divided into teams and followed Frostblade down into Snake Mountain.

 

Just as the group dispersed, mature red snakes and soaring birds hidden within the hall’s pillars suddenly lunged forward.

 

They pounced on the unprepared celestial soldiers, knocking them to the ground.

 

“Fools.” Ye Qingge flicked her sleeve and descended straight into the Crow Python Hall.

 

Countless ice blades shot forth with her movement, pinning the ambushing red snakes and soaring birds to the ground.

 

The leading soaring bird transformed into human form mid-flight, raising a sharp blade to strike at Ye Qingge.

 

But before it could get close, Ye Qingge cut it down.

 

Standing firmly in place, Ye Qingge watched the blood splatter near her feet. Her vision blurred for a moment, and she staggered a few steps.

 

The clamor and chaos behind her faded away.

 

The person lying dead in a pool of blood slowly rose at that moment, a gaping hole in their chest gushing blood incessantly. Their limbs seemed newly attached, wobbling unsteadily.

 

Ice blades twirled at her fingertips as Ye Qingge coldly watched the figure rise. Just as she was about to launch the ice blades, the person lifted their head.

 

The ice blades at her fingertips embedded themselves into the ground.

 

Ye Qingge felt as if struck by lightning, staring in disbelief at the face before her.

 

Jiang Mianhao.

 

The ‘Jiang Mianhao’ wobbled to her feet without speaking, merely staring coldly at her, her eyes filled with resentment, hatred, and confusion.

 

Ye Qingge’s face paled slightly. She instinctively reached out, but the ‘Jiang Mianhao’ before her opened her mouth—crimson blood flowing from her lips and nose, trembling as she whispered:

 

“Goddess!”

 

“Goddess!”

 

Ye Qingge’s outstretched hand froze mid-air. In an instant, the figure vanished, replaced by the corpse of a soaring bird that had reverted to its original form at her feet.

 

It was a nightmare. Ye Qingge frowned, forcing herself to steady her mind.

 

A suffocating heartache spread through her entire body.

 

She swayed under the turbulent spiritual energy raging within her, the metallic taste of blood rising in her throat.

 

“Goddess, are you alright?” the guard beside her asked softly. “Why are you drenched in sweat? Everyone in the hall is waiting for your return.”

 

Ye Qingge coldly raised her eyes, suppressing the pain in her heart, and resumed her usual aloof, distant demeanor. “What is it?”

 

The guard looked at her pale face with concern and said gravely, “Your Highness, while clearing Serpent’s Cove, we discovered a plant in the Soaring Bird’s bedchamber. It seemed completely out of place among the rest of the chamber’s decor. When we entered, the plant had just sprouted. Should we destroy it along with everything else?”

 

“A plant?” Ye Qingge’s heart skipped a beat, a flicker of emotion coloring her tone. “What kind?”

 

The guard hesitated, then replied solemnly, “I am too ignorant to identify it clearly.”

 

“It seemed to be a blade of grass.”