Seeing Song Qianji about to broadcast his voice, Wuxiang instead smiled:
"Do you think revealing your identity will make them all obey you?"
His smile held no mockery, but rather a compassionate tone, as if watching a naive child struggle desperately before death.
Over ten thousand cultivators lined both banks of the Red River, practicing hundreds of different cultivation methods, each with distinct backgrounds, motives, and temperaments.
In the open, major sects and noble families watched coldly from the sidelines, while hidden enemies from Thousand Canals or the Northern Desert lay in wait.
No one could possibly unite these suspicious, mutually distrustful people with a single command, compelling them to obey in unison.
Not even if he were the King of Thousand Canals, the era's most powerful genius.
On the contrary, his identity would inevitably make some suspect he had secretly infiltrated the secret realm, only speaking up now as part of some long-planned scheme with ill intentions.
If Song Qianji spoke, it would only create greater chaos, with his supporters clashing first against the doubters.
The more chaotic the crowd became, the harder escape would be, until they all ended up as food for the awakening giant serpent.
Wuxiang chuckled, "Young Benefactor Song, others may not understand you. But to truly see you, this humble monk once lost an eye."
If Song Qianji stayed to kill, he would have no time to save.
If he returned to save, he could only let Wuxiang escape.
In this dilemma, Wuxiang had precisely calculated the timing, location, Song Qianji's maximum possible strength, and all variables.
Even if Song Qianji had mastered techniques like body-splitting to divide himself, the duplicates would inevitably be weaker than the original—neither strong enough to kill Wuxiang nor slay the serpent.
Most people in this world perish from greed. Trying to have both will only mean losing everything.
Song Qianji could only choose one.
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The bright moon hid. Great river waves rolled like crimson clouds.
The earth trembled faintly.
At first, no one paid it mind—just more rocks falling from the southern cliffs, more leaves shaking loose from northern trees.
With the fierce battle raging over the river, shaking earth and shifting Spirit Qi seemed perfectly normal.
Cultivators, prideful of their experience, summoned more defensive magical artifacts while Formation Masters reinforced protective arrays.
Everyone still watched the river intently, unwilling to miss a single move from the four combatants, while secretly transmitting messages:
"I heard Wei Wang is racing against time. At dawn, whether the river array is broken or not, he'll force a crossing!"
"Since Wei Wang's team entered the secret realm, they've marched straight in one direction without stopping. Some rogue cultivator teams followed them and said they'd rather leave uncollected monster corpses behind than waste time—clear proof they have a specific goal."
"There must be heavy treasure emerging nearby! Once they settle things with Thousand Canals, we'll quietly follow the winners... Wait, do you hear something?"
"Don't panic! It's Ji Bianxiu manipulating the tenth-layer array. Watch closely!"
The tremors grew increasingly violent, the intervals shortening.
"Thump. Thump. Thump."
One beat, then another, like the heartbeat of some massive living creature beneath the earth.
The water visibly clouded. Sand accumulated over years in the riverbed and corpses of dead fish floated to the surface, turning the water from red to black—like a thick, churning cauldron of filthy blood.
The night breeze, once carrying the fresh scent of mountain forests, was replaced by a strong, putrid stench.
Suddenly, a gale swept the land, water levels surged, and a massive wave crashed toward the southern bank.
Cultivators observing from protective arrays in the meadows beneath the cliffs, accustomed to waves hitting the shore, thought little of it.This wave was extraordinary, carrying immense power and a crushing weight of a thousand pounds, like a dragon soaring through the skies to slam directly into the crowd.
Alert cultivators hastily summoned their magical artifacts, flying up the cliffs to seek refuge.
Those who moved too slowly were unable to escape, their protective arrays shattered by the black wave.
In an instant, agonizing screams erupted from below the cliffs, so harrowing they defied description.
Meng Heze tried to block it but was instead engulfed.
"Pah, this tastes awful!" He cleaved through the black wave with his sword, spitting out a mouthful of filthy mud, then turned and shouted, "Ji Chen, what the hell are you doing?!"
The battle had been exhilarating, but the prolonged stalemate and dwindling strength had begun to breed frustration.
To his surprise, Ji Chen’s expression was even worse: "It wasn’t me! Damn it, it wasn’t me!"
The array lines, which had previously obeyed his commands like extensions of his own arms, trembled violently as he realized he was losing his connection to the formation.
Initially suspecting that Wei Zhenyu and his group on the opposite shore had unleashed some formidable technique, he noticed Li Ciquan’s face turning ashen, the silver threads from his array disk dimming as if his spirit qi was depleted.
Zhu Sheng’s veins bulged on his forehead, the flames on his blade weakening—he seemed to be struggling even more than Ji Chen and Meng Heze.
On the northern shore, Wei Zhenyu opened his eyes and suddenly roared, "Cease fighting!"
Li Ciquan and Zhu Sheng, who had also assumed the other side had struck first with a hidden move, realized something was wrong upon hearing Ji Chen’s denial and swiftly retreated.
As filthy waves surged repeatedly, Meng Heze cleaved through them, providing cover: "Something’s off—we’ll settle this another time!"
Seizing the opportunity, Li and Zhu broke free and dashed back to the cliff, their faces pale.
Turning back, they saw Ji Chen’s golden threads narrowly miss Meng Heze, who was trapped in the river’s center, nearly submerged.
"Boom!"
Wei Zhenyu remained motionless, but his sword light swept through the air, shattering the murky waters and sending Meng Heze back to the opposite shore.
The rogue cultivators panicked, their faces blanched as they scurried in frantic circles like rats trapped in a maze.
Lu Zhou anxiously wrung his hands: "Wei Wang, is something major happening?!"
Wei Zhenyu had no time to answer, only raising his voice to command, "Prepare for battle!"
The silver-armored guards drew their blades in unison, their gleaming silver light sparkling like stars.
At the same time, Ji Chen helped Meng Heze to his feet and shouted, "Thousand Canals disciples, beware!"
Black waves churned as thousands of people scrambled chaotically like headless flies, on the verge of erupting into full-blown chaos.
Suddenly, a voice resounded, shaking heaven and earth.
It was an extremely deep male voice, originating from a distant source—as if descending slowly from the apex of the sky or traversing vast distances and long periods of time:
"The Blood River Valley Underground Palace is about to emerge." The first trial begins."
Echoes reverberated endlessly between the shores.
"The Blood River Valley Underground Palace is about to emerge…"
The cultivators were profoundly shaken, halting in unison to stare blankly at the sky.
The Blood River Valley Underground Palace?!
The legendary hidden legacy of a Great Adept who had ascended to immortality, rumored to contain endless supreme cultivation methods and immeasurable treasures of heaven and earth.
No one had ever seen or obtained it, but which cultivator who came to Blood River Valley hadn’t heard the tales of the underground palace?
The crowd erupted into a frenzy.
"They’ve been fighting for so long—sure enough, there are extraordinary treasures here!"
"This must be the lingering soul of an ascended senior guiding us!"
Many bowed to the sky in gratitude and respect for the predecessor.
As the masses descended into frenzy, a very few remained calm. Wei Zhenyu sensed something amiss and signaled his silver-armored guards to stay quiet.
Ji Chen and Meng Heze also gestured for the Thousand Canals disciples to keep their composure.
The voice spoke again, slowly: "A two-thousand-year-old river-guarding great python will appear. This is the first trial. All who contribute to slaying the python may enter the underground palace to seek treasures. Those who do not wish to enter should leave immediately."It seems this senior has a decent temper, and the trial isn't mandatory.
Cultivators who only wanted to watch the excitement without risking their lives, or those with low cultivation levels, breathed sighs of relief. They hastily grabbed their Flying Magical Artifacts and swiftly fled.
More cultivators felt their hearts stirred, eager to witness this once-in-a-millennium opportunity. Those who left amounted to less than one-tenth of the crowd.
Regardless of their initial intentions, their thoughts at this moment were strikingly similar—
As the voice from the sky had said, the condition for entering the Underground Palace was "those who contribute," not "those who slay the flood dragon." Even if they only landed a single strike, it should count as contribution.
As for whether they could kill the flood dragon—since this was a trial, as long as they followed the senior's instructions, how could they possibly fail?
Ji Chen frowned deeply when suddenly, his ear itched, and a faint, mosquito-like voice drilled into his ear canal:
"The situation is urgent, don’t ask too much. I will teach you the Dragon Slaying Formation tonight. Change the formation immediately."
Ji Chen’s heart surged with joy—it was Senior Brother Song!
His exhausted spirit instantly revived, and his body filled with strength.
He hurriedly nodded, but his eyes stung slightly: "So Brother Song has been watching over us all along..."
A thousand layers of giant waves split toward the riverbanks.
"Boom!"
The great flood dragon surged out of the water!
Its head was like a mountain, its eyes like fire. Its body covered the river surface for a hundred zhang.
"Roar!"
The great flood dragon raised its head and roared!
The moment it opened its eyes, it unexpectedly met tens of thousands of blazing, intense gazes.
They were even hungrier and more fervent than it was.
...
Above the wilderness, heaven and earth stretched vast and desolate.
Wuxiang had already suffered two sword wounds—one on his shoulder, the other across his abdomen. Blood gushed wildly from the injuries, leaving him in a miserable state.
"Song Qianji, you... you..."
He had personally listened as Song Qianji deployed troops and made arrangements step by step, his expression shifting from pity to astonishment.
The screams from the riverbank had, at some point, turned into cheers.
Song Qianji offered him no explanation. Most assassins in the world died from talking too much, and he wouldn’t make such a classic mistake.
Only when he delivered the final sword strike and felt the other’s life gradually fading did he slowly tear off the Sound Amplification Talisman and speak:
"It’s been too long since I last did this—I’m a bit rusty."
It really had been too long.
For him, tonight wasn’t about choosing between "killing one person" or "saving ten thousand."
It was about choosing to "leave" or "stay."
Killing this person and fulfilling Xian Jianchen’s request would allow him to return to Song Courtyard and live a good life of farming and gardening, with no one knowing he had ever come to the secret realm.
Sparing this person and going to the Red River to slay the flood dragon would mean plunging headlong into the stormy conflicts of Blood River Valley. If he missed this opportunity, this person’s injuries would gradually heal, and the next time they met, it would undoubtedly be harder to kill him.
In the end, he used the Dragon Slaying Formation passed down to him by Chess Devil, which meant he had formally accepted this legacy.
He had avoided the choice Wuxiang forced upon him, but he did not evade the choice within his own heart.
Song Qianji sheathed his sword, wiped off the blood, and gently returned it to its scabbard:
"Did you think I was going to painstakingly persuade them to run from danger? Or send Meng Heze and Ji Chen to rescue people?"
Wuxiang opened his mouth, vomiting large amounts of blood. His voice was hoarse:
"Exactly. How does one secure victory from a thousand miles away and control the situation? Of course, it’s through interests and fear. I always knew you weren’t soft-hearted, but I never imagined you..."
Song Qianji clicked his tongue and muttered under his breath, "No one wants this, and I don’t either. If you want to blame someone, blame that bastard Xian Jianchen."
The light in Wuxiang’s eyes gradually faded, like a lamp extinguished.Song Qianji looked at his miserable state and recalled what this person had once said to him in his previous life: "Creation is harder than destruction, saving one person is harder than killing one." Finding it utterly absurd, he slightly bent down and reached out his hand.
Suddenly, he noticed a strange smile flicker at the corner of the other's lips, his voice barely audible:
"You are more suitable than I imagined…"
Before the words faded, he breathed his last.
Suitable for what?!
A thought stirred in Song Qianji's heart. His five fingers descended, gently closing the other's eyelids.
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