Moonlight Mystique

Chapter Fifty-Two

A long silence lingered before the nameless tombstone.

The blood-soaked past from a thousand years ago had been brutally unveiled—who was truly at fault?

Was it Kunlun's mistake? With the immortal-yao feud spanning millennia, recalling their sole disciple to protect the Immortal Realm and sealing his memories had violated human ethics. Yet for the Elder Sect Leader and Elders of Kunlun at that time, wasn't it all for safeguarding the peace of the Immortal Realm?

Or was it Rong Xian's fault? As an immortal, he fell in love with a member of the Yao Race, torn between his debt to his sect and his devotion to his wife and child, ultimately accidentally killing his own daughter and driving his wife to death.

"Who was wrong? Who was wrong? Linglong, was it my mistake or the Heavenly Dao's?!" The hunched figure before the tombstone bent low, his hoarse voice filled with anguish.

Dark clouds veiled the moon as chaotic Spiritual Qi erupted from Rong Xian's body. Birds scattered in panic from the nameless mountain, and a sound between a wail and a roar tore from his throat. The group felt an eerie chill radiating from him, but before they could react, the figure before the tombstone suddenly turned.

"Blood... Linglong, Xin'er—their bodies were covered in blood." Rong Xian stretched out his hands, his gaze wild as he stared at them. "Master, Elders, look! My hands are drenched in their blood. I killed them with my own hands—all for your so-called immortal Dao, for your Kunlun!"

"Damn it, why's he lashing out at us? The old Kunlun Sect Leader's been dead for centuries!" Mu Jiu shivered, glancing around nervously.

"This is bad. The memory of Clan Chief Linglong's tragic death has awakened Sect Leader Rong Xian's killing intent. His mind is trapped in the battlefield from a thousand years ago. Right now, in his eyes, we are the old Kunlun Sect Leader and Elders!" Bai Shuo's heart sank.

"What?!" Mu Jiu yelped, turning to Bei Chen with an indignant shout. "You damned Sword Cultivator, your Kunlun—ah!"

Before Mu Jiu could finish, Rong Xian waved his hand, and the snow-white iron sword embedded in the ground suddenly flew up, slashing toward them. Overwhelming Sword Qi descended indiscriminately from above. Without hesitation, Fan Yue grabbed Bai Shuo and leaped aside. Chong Zhao, a step too slow, was grazed by the Sword Qi, grunting as he staggered back several paces.

At that moment, Bei Chen stepped forward, channeling Kunlun's Sword Qi to form a small protective barrier around the group.

"Sect Leader! You must stop!" Bei Chen strained to maintain the barrier, trying to snap Rong Xian out of his trance. "Wake up! The old Sect Leader has long since transcended this world!"

"Shouting's useless! He's lost it—can't you see that?!" Mu Jiu dodged the Sword Qi while yelling in frustration.

"They're all dead—why are you still alive?!" Rong Xian's eyes burned with madness as he advanced toward them, his killing intent palpable.

With each step he took, the iron sword slashed downward. Before he even reached them, Bei Chen's Sword Qi barrier began to falter, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.

The overwhelming Sword Qi breached the barrier, striking the group. Even the slightest contact shredded their robes instantly.

"Damn you, Bei Chen! You Kunlun Sword Cultivators are all lunatics! Why should I, a member of the Yao Race, die for your immortals' stupidity?!" Mu Jiu dodged frantically behind Bei Chen, his voice shrill with anger.

As another wave of Sword Qi descended, Bei Chen's barrier shattered completely. The group coughed up blood, thrown to the ground by the impact. Rong Xian, his eyes filled with murderous rage, raised the iron sword once more. The overwhelming Sword Qi of a Peak Upper Immortal surged toward them like a tidal wave—

"A-Shuo!" Chong Zhao struggled to his feet, lunging forward to shield Bai Shuo."Mu Mu, watch out!" Bai Shuo instinctively closed her eyes, her heart skipping a beat as she reflexively pulled Fan Yue close, shielding him with her own body against the incoming Sword Qi.

Chong Zhao's outstretched hand froze mid-air, his gaze faltering.

In the same instant, Fan Yue swiftly turned Bai Shuo around, positioning her back against the Sword Qi—

Just as the Sword Qi was about to strike them, a flash of red light erupted with a thunderous crash, shattering the countless Sword Qi into dust.

Rong Xian landed heavily on the ground, his Kunlun iron Sword clattering beside him.

Having narrowly escaped death, the group stared ahead in bewilderment—only to see a flamboyant figure clad in colorful robes, the heavily powdered Hua Da Tie, standing with his iron Staff pressed against the Kunlun Sword Cultivator's head.

Mu Jiu and Bai Shuo blinked in astonishment, while the others remained silent.

Only Fan Yue seemed entirely focused on Bai Shuo, gripping her hand tightly, his lips pressed together in unspoken anger.

Bai Shuo, oblivious to her disciple's expression, suddenly remembered something and anxiously turned to look at Chong Zhao nearby.

By then, Chong Zhao had already withdrawn his hand. His gaze was indifferent as he observed the two figures—one standing, one fallen—before him, as if Bai Shuo no longer existed. Only he knew that his fingers, hidden within his sleeves, had dug into his palms, drawing cold blood.

Seeing him unharmed, Bai Shuo sighed in relief, completely unaware of the turmoil in his heart. She carelessly averted her gaze and instead stared at the burly blacksmith standing like a small mountain in the distance. Licking her lips, she swallowed hard.

This was a thousand-year-old Kunlun Sword Cultivator, a Peak-level Upper Realm expert! His full-powered strike had been effortlessly dispersed by a single iron Staff?

What the hell? If this blacksmith was so powerful, why was he wasting his time catching her stealing chickens? Did he have nothing better to do???

"Holy shit! That was insane! Brother, what's your name? Let's be friends! I'm Mu Jiu from Silent Abyss..." Mu Jiu's eyes sparkled as he bounded forward, about to clap Hua Da Tie on the shoulder.

Suddenly, Hua Da Tie swung his Staff, sending Mu Jiu flying face-first into the dirt. Just as Mu Jiu was about to curse, he froze in horror—Rong Xian had abruptly risen, his head lowered, the Kunlun iron Sword flying back into his grasp. Mu Jiu had unwittingly leaped right beside him.

Clutching his racing heart, Mu Jiu quickly scrambled behind Hua Da Tie.

"Senior, what happened a thousand years ago is in the past and has nothing to do with us," Hua Da Tie said lazily, rubbing his iron Staff and yawning. "If you seek vengeance, you should go to the underworld and find the Kunlun Sword Cultivators from back then."

In the distance, Rong Xian suddenly lifted his head, his crimson eyes filled with nothing but killing intent. He coldly swept his gaze over the group and raised the Kunlun iron Sword once more.

A peerless Sword Intent surged into the sky, dark clouds rolling over the mountaintop as lightning struck the iron Sword. The Sword Qi intensified tenfold, far surpassing its previous strength.

Hua Da Tie's expression shifted. His iron Staff pointed directly at Rong Xian, its red glow flickering as his casual demeanor vanished.

"Damn it, what are the Celestial Clan doing?! Didn't Jin Yao seal the Spiritual Qi in the Abyssal City? Why isn't he affected?!" Mu Jiu's courage shattered at the sight of the terrifying thunderclouds. Cursing, he raised his Minor Annihilation Wheel, but no matter how hard he tried, it could only muster faint traces of demonic light.

Bai Shuo, however, was suddenly struck by realization as she stared at Rong Xian.

So that's it!

No wonder Nan Wan's strike had seemingly left Rong Xian unharmed. While everyone else in the Abyssal City had their Spiritual Qi sealed, he still wielded such immense power.

The Abyssal City only sealed the Spiritual Qi of Celestials and Demons. There was only one kind of person unaffected—the Abyssal Clan.If Rong Xian could become an immortal, and he wasn’t of a different race, then there was only one possibility left—he was neither immortal nor demon. Or rather, he was never Rong Xian to begin with!

Human strength has its limits. For a being like him, unless he chose to give up himself, no one could defeat him!

"Senior Linglong was born of the fox clan!"

At the moment the Kunlun iron sword, crackling with lightning, slashed toward the group once more, Bai Shuo suddenly shook off Fan Yue’s hand and rushed in front of Hua Da Tie, shouting at Rong Xian.

"A-Shuo!"

"Bai Shuo!"

Chong Zhao and Fan Yue both paled, stepping forward to intervene, but Bai Shuo abruptly raised her hand. "Don’t come any closer!"

The two halted in their tracks—because the Kunlun iron sword had stopped.

Rong Xian lifted his gaze, reacting for the first time since descending into madness. His eyes locked onto Bai Shuo with terrifying intensity.

But Bai Shuo turned her attention to the three nameless gravestones behind Rong Xian. "I initially thought one of these three tombs was empty—that you had guarded the graves of your wife and daughter for a thousand years. But then it struck me… The Seal on Senior Rong Xian was placed by the former Sect Leader of Kunlun. If the blood of loved ones could awaken you and break the Seal, then Senior Rong Xian must have been a man of profound emotion and loyalty. His sect owed him both gratitude and grievances—debts he could neither repay nor avenge. How could such a man bear to live on in disgrace? If I’m not mistaken, he must have followed Senior Linglong a thousand years ago. You are not Senior Rong Xian."

The group was stunned into silence. Mu Jiu rubbed his nose. "Girl, what nonsense are you spouting? If he’s not Rong Xian, how can he wield the Kunlun iron sword?"

"He can!" Bai Shuo’s gaze burned as she stared at Rong Xian. "If Senior Rong Xian chose the most excruciating death, then he can!"

"W-what kind of death…?"

"Ancient texts say that to die by having one’s Golden Core forcibly extracted ensures the Divine Soul will never rest, condemned to eternal torment in Hell!" Bai Shuo spoke slowly.

Silence fell over the graveyard. Everyone turned to the white-haired old man.

Among the immortals and demons of the Three Realms, one would rather destroy their own Golden Core than let it be taken. For as long as the Golden Core remains intact, the Divine Soul can never find peace.

"He had already reached the Peak of Lord-level cultivation. Who but a god could extract his Golden Core without a sound?"

But a god would never do such a thing.

"Himself." The moment Bai Shuo uttered this, the group fell into stunned disbelief.

"The forbidden city suppresses spiritual power—immortals and demons alike are no exception. You remain unaffected by the Spirit-Sealing Array because you are neither immortal nor demon. But the Kunlun iron sword recognizes its master. In this world, the only ones who can wield it are Senior Rong Xian… or his Golden Core."

"You’re saying… it’s…?!" Mu Jiu’s eyes widened in shock.

"Senior, you were born from Senior Rong Xian’s resentment. Or rather, you are that very Golden Core he tore from himself alive, aren’t you?"

A Golden Core inherently lacks human consciousness. But this one, extracted in agony, bore all of Rong Xian’s grief and fury. Tainted by worldly suffering, it gained sentience—becoming "Rong Xian," the vessel of his thousand years of remorse, and the guardian of these three nameless graves.

"Rong Xian" stared at Bai Shuo, offering no denial. His gaze gradually cleared, yet the killing intent remained, cold and unyielding.

"It’s not even human. How are we supposed to fight it?" Mu Jiu muttered in exasperation.

"Senior, for a thousand years, the Sword Cultivators of Kunlun have remained in seclusion, passing down their lineage to only one disciple. Lord Bei Chen abandoned his Sword upon meeting you—out of Kunlun’s remorse."

As Bai Shuo spoke, Bei Chen seemed to understand. He stepped forward, knelt, and raised his own sword toward "Rong Xian," his voice heavy with sorrow.

"Kunlun bears this guilt, a remorse spanning millennia. Sect Leader, may you rest in peace.""Although the fox clan suffered heavy losses a thousand years ago, after centuries of recuperation, they have flourished with numerous talents. Senior Linglong, if aware in the afterlife, should find solace." Bai Shuo looked at Mu Jiu, his gaze meaningful.

As everyone turned to him, Mu Jiu pressed his lips together but remained still.

He already understood what Bai Shuo intended. This "Rong Xian" was a manifestation of that person's resentment, his obsession and Heart Demon. No matter how powerful the spiritual arts, they could never truly erase him—except through... repentance and forgiveness.

But why should he forgive him?! Were the lives of his fox clan's hundred elders not lives too?

"Rong Xian's" murky, aged eyes fixed on Mu Jiu, as if pleading for something.

Mu Jiu did not move. He clenched the small Wheel of Annihilation tightly, silent.

"Having his Golden Core gouged out alive, his Soul restless for a thousand years... Your Highness..." Bai Shuo sighed softly, but before he could finish, Mu Jiu shuddered. He put away the small Wheel of Annihilation and slowly walked toward "Rong Xian."

"Enough. What you've done... is enough. Go now."

With Mu Jiu's sigh, two drops of bloody tears fell from "Rong Xian's" eyes. The Kunlun iron Sword in his palm trembled with a mournful hum before crumbling into dust.

The madness in "Rong Xian's" eyes faded. He turned to glance at the three unmarked graves, a relieved smile touching his lips as he vanished along with the Kunlun iron Sword before everyone's eyes.

The lightning dispersed, and silence returned. A faintly glowing Golden Core hovered midair.

Peace settled once more before the unmarked graves.

Bai Shuo reached out and caught the Golden Core.