Honor and Disgrace

The wind stilled, the waves calmed, and all fell silent, plunging the world outside the Border Realm into a dead hush as well. All the artisans subconsciously widened their eyes, watching with rapt attention. Wherever the silver light passed, the rain of tears, corpse-fire, ossuary, and decaying wind... all vanished without a trace. The blood flowing over the earth dried rapidly; clay effigies resembling human bones turned to flying ash, leaving the land as desolate, dead, and riddled with fissures as before. It had not fallen into hell, nor had it been welcomed into heaven. It had merely returned to its original state... Yet that was precisely the most terrifying part! Amid Torch Plague's corruption, everything was forcibly corrected anew. All the rot, taint, and mutation of Stagnant Rot were completely expelled, returning everything to its pristine form as though time itself had turned back. Not off by a hair, without missing a single speck. When Ji Jue stepped forward, everything beneath his feet abruptly began to expand, as if an invisible wall had risen from the ground before Torch Plague's contagion, pressing back against the overwhelming tide and shoving it outward inch by inch... No matter how hysterical the mad laughter in the sea of fire grew, no matter how ferociously it struck back in fury, it could not advance forward by even a fraction. Everything within sight gradually fell under the sway of that pair of invisible hands. Struggle was futile. "The prosperity of all things was fashioned by these hands; everything in the world was wrought by these ten fingers..." Jiang Tongguang let out a sigh of admiration. Gazing at the silver radiance, he raised his cup and drained it in a single gulp. "As expected of Non-Offensive!" Snap! Ji Jue flicked his fingers again. Another silver ripple burst from his fingertips, spreading out and freezing the surging counterattack in its tracks. Solid Alchemy! All etheric reactions and transmutations were forcibly locked down by physical properties. Bound by matter, the ether was shackled; caged by the vessel, the soul was trapped. Whatever mess of creations you tried to forge, all were frozen solid—none could escape. Then, Vapor Alchemy began extracting ether to strengthen matter. Once every drop of etheric corrosion had been drained dry, Fluid Alchemy stepped in to purify and reconstruct it. As the three disciplines cycled faster and faster, operating autonomously like a closed loop, everything naturally reverted to the blueprint Ji Jue had laid down. Rather than restoration, it was more like erosion and transformation—taking an area infected by one virus and reinfecting it with another! The seemingly ferocious and savage tide of Torch Plague was, to Ji Jue, no different from a gentle breeze brushing against his face. Compared to the Flame Tide, what was this little firefly glow over rotting grass, this so-called Torch Plague, even worth? As for the mutating erosion of Stagnant Rot? Ji Jue almost laughed out loud. Setting aside Non-Offensive's inherent resistance, did they really think he had attended Kanemoto's cram school for nothing? He merely chose not to use it; it wasn't as if he didn't know how. Kanemoto certainly possessed the caliber of a Grandmaster. While most of what he taught was foundational, the underlying theory undeniably struck at the very core of Stagnant Rot and Embers. Though its heart was unadulterated Stagnant Rot, in practical application it crossed between both paths completely unhindered. Furthermore, with the forced enlightenment and empowerment from the Formula of Illumination, Ji Jue's grasp of Stagnant Rot was more than enough to deliver a dimensional-reduction strike against the vast majority of mediocre figures from the Profound. What he was doing now was merely testing the waters, practicing the demonic art in reverse. By leveraging his comprehension of Stagnant Rot, he could dismantle and deconstruct his opponent's craft. In the Dissociation Art, that was the most fundamental of basics—it had practically become instinct, a reflex of his very soul. Boom! A hysterical, slurred voice rang out from within the torch flames. The shattered figure seemed enraged, convulsing violently as living flames writhed out of its face, forming blurry expressions of venomous hatred that glared fixedly at Ji Jue. Perhaps that was what Torch Plague truly was. Its essence was none other than the lingering resentment of an artisan! It wasn't some shallow love or hatred born of personal grievance, but greed and abhorrence rooted in the very nature of an artisan: resentment that the creations of heaven and earth could not belong solely to him, hatred that the myriad phenomena of this world could not be wrought by his hands alone! In a sense, the artisan who had been completely consumed and reified by Stagnant Rot had ultimately fulfilled his creation—what he had forged was precisely what he had become today! Even though his intellect was gone and his soul extinguished, this hatred and greed burned all the fiercer, unshackled by anything. It was precisely for this reason that he was insatiably starved, endlessly devouring everything, dragging all things and phenomena into chaos. Now, the artisan's hatred embodied as Torch Plague had gone completely berserk. Because right before his eyes, his creation had been killed! It wasn't correction, nor transformation, but something colder and crueler—throttling this thriving, burgeoning creation inch by inch until it was completely dead! In his blind rage, transmutations that had long since become pure instinct began once more. Taking himself as the crucible and the entire Border Realm as material, the ossuary shook violently in an instant. The rain of tears and corpse-fire swirled, thousands of creations wrought in the blink of an eye. Countless clay effigies like skeletal remains converged, swallowing the decaying wind, transforming into the idol of a wrathful deity—hideous and savage, two streaks of bloody tears streaming from its eyes. It opened its mouth and spat out a dim, searing glare. Ji Jue waved a hand. Before him, the boundless corrupt poison scattered and tore apart with a single sweep. Immediately after, the skeletal deity raised its hands. An endless hail of blades rose from the fire and rained down from the sky like a torrential squall, only to crumble to pieces under the sweeping arc of etheric swords. The deity tore off its own hand and hurled it forward. In midair, the severed arm transformed abruptly, its blood-drenched flesh writhing violently into a three-headed black serpent that lunged through the sky. Ji Jue lifted his hand slightly. The ripples within the quicksilver boiled, and a blade entwined with bloody light and black flames rose into the air, caught firmly by a hand of quicksilver. With a slash, it cleaved the serpent in two. High above, the rain of tears froze, congealing into pearls that plummeted from the heavens, bursting open one after another. Boundless worms crawled out, only to be utterly wiped out by the silver light. "Annoying." Ji Jue flicked his finger. From the boiling quicksilver, a hand reached forth, extending boundlessly, clenching into a fist, and slammed down with crushing force. A savage shockwave swept outward, blasting the deity into oblivion. Only the weeping and mad laughter within Torch Plague's fires overlapped relentlessly, like a roaring accusation. "This can hardly be called a creation—just an expendable trinket slapped together at random. In other words, this is the limit of the threat your skill poses to me." Ji Jue shook his head. Turning toward the wreck engulfed in violent flames, he flicked his finger and effortlessly shattered the fire-forged blade into dust. "The creations of Stagnant Rot? Nothing more than this!" Boom! As Ji Jue hooked his finger upward once more, boundless silver light converged and surged from the ground. Countless razor-sharp blades thrust outward, ignoring the erosion of Torch Plague, impaling the battered wreck, hoisting it high, and shackling it fast. "The malice of the Profound is far too shallow... nothing more than wishful thinking." Ji Jue glanced at the charred, rotting face, sighing in contempt: "Could the evils of the mortal world ever be so limited?" Torch Plague went wild, struggling in fury, expanding again and again, yet unable to break through the suppression of Solid Alchemy. Only that cold voice rang out: "Ideals plunge into the abyss, life withers with time, law turns into chains, freedom begets slaughter, fire is quenched by frost and rain, the mortal realm shatters, and change collapses into a closed loop..." "Of all the evils and hardships in the mortal world, there is one that I excel at above all." Ji Jue raised his finger, tapping gently toward that twisted, mangled face. "Take a good look." "This," he said, "is the greatest honor of your life." Boom! Silver light erupted from his fingertip, thoroughly engulfing Torch Plague's broken form. More than that, rolling waves swept through, echoing across the entire Border Realm. It encompassed everything, proclaiming true destruction and finality to this conceited artisan of Stagnant Rot. Not a lie named redemption, nor a descent mistaken for hope. Instead, it was eternal, pure nothingness! Wherever the silver light passed, everything fell into deathly silence and vanished. Quicksilver flowed as endless flowers blossomed, easily taking root within the lingering contamination of Stagnant Rot and assimilating it all. Assimilating, assimilating, and assimilating further. Until finally, brilliant silver-white blossoms blanketed everything, swallowing all. In the dead silence, no other sound remained—no embers, no stagnant rot, no ether, no change, and no perdition. However magnificent and breathtaking it appeared, it still sent a chill straight to the marrow. No matter how harmless and gentle it seemed, only by standing within it could one experience the terror that made the soul wail and shatter. Nothing held any value anymore. Neither creation nor destruction. Everything hopelessly returned to eternal nothingness, no matter how dazzling the flowers within that void bloomed. Including Torch Plague. Blossom after blossom slowly unfurled from his broken form, shrouding his scorched, shattered body, covering his face of charred crust and gaping cracks. They hid the venom and bitter hatred upon that face; neither horror nor trembling could be seen. There was no more fire. "You... you too..." The face swallowed by the blossoming flowers twitched and convulsed, its broken voice sounding like a sob: "You too... you're the same... you and I..." The voice cut off abruptly. Beneath the blossoms, Torch Plague was utterly annihilated. Only the final words echoed within the dissipating silver light. Disdainful and cold. "As if you're worthy." Ji Jue waved his hand. The fleeting blossoms all withered away, and everything returned to its original place once more. Only a broken husk was hauled up by the silver light and hung beside the battered corpse of Gongjiao and the head of Iron Valve. It made three—pity it couldn't cancel them out, only making the display look all the more terrifying and gruesome. As they swayed in the wind, the howling gusts sounded like eternal wailing. "Next!" Ji Jue turned his eyes back toward the Profound, completely indifferent. This time, a dwarf-like figure stepped out from the Profound as if facing a mortal enemy, approaching him step by step, brimming with vigilance and caution. He opened his mouth to speak. In the next instant, as Ji Jue flicked his finger, purple lightning and black flames that had long been gathering burst forth. Pure light and heat transformed into a torrent of destruction, completely submerging the newcomer. Incinerated to ash! The ashes clustered together and were casually tossed beside the fragments of Torch Plague, making four. "Pathetic. Don't try to insult me with trash like this!" Ji Jue cast an indifferent glance toward the Profound. "Next!" The next one lasted longer. Meaning he held out under the slashing blood-fire tempest of Pan Ying for a full two seconds before not even his bones remained. Ji Jue used the blade to flick up a bone that was barely in one piece and tossed it next to the heap of ash. He looked toward the Profound. "Next!" The next, and then the next... Like a guillotine on an execution platform, it welcomed guest after guest, only to string up one mutilated corpse after another. One, two, three, four, five, six... An uncanny spectacle unseen across the three Embers-Profound Duels in four hundred years unfolded right before everyone's eyes. So much so that within the dead silence between sea and sky, no other sound could be heard. Everyone widened their eyes, staring at this unceasing duel that bordered on outright trampling, hardly able to breathe. "He won again?" Within Tianshu, Huang Xu, who had been waiting all this time, rubbed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. He couldn't tell if he was exhausted or relieved, but his emotions felt like a roller coaster; he had never worried about anyone this much before. Several times, he opened his mouth only to hesitate. Truth be told, even if the person up there were his own son, he wouldn't be this anxious. But Ji Jue, you bastard, running around wreaking havoc on low health is one thing—could you at least return the Ring of Siegfried first?! Can you come out first? Let's talk this out, name your price! Bro, stop playing with fire, I'm begging you. Never had he longed so desperately for someone to take a massive blade and rob him blind; never had he wanted to bleed money and be a total sucker so badly. He felt absolutely pathetic, but he was worried sick. Anxious, terribly anxious! "What round is this?" Aignu turned and asked. "The eighth," Despina answered. "Heh, a little over a year ago he was just an apprentice. How long has it been? The so-called generosity of Embers... isn't this taking generosity a bit too far?" Aignu sighed in amazement. "At this rate, from now on, whenever we speak to the kid, we might have to call him Master Ji." "No need to wait for later," the old Captain, silently puffing on his pipe, said. "His Master appraisal is just a formality at this point. No one's going to vote against it." Aignu froze for a second, then nodded in realization. "True enough. First Gongjiao, then Iron Valve, Torch Plague..." "More than that," the old Captain shook his head. "Longdu died by his hands as well, and there were probably others before that. "Ye Xian might have a sharp tongue, but when push comes to shove, she always leaves a way out. That kid is different. When he plays dirty, he leaves zero leeway. "If you've seen one, it only means far more have died." Stunned for a moment, the Association's Masters fell silent as well, looking at the slender figure standing at the very front. No one spoke, looking almost absentminded. Ji Jue seemed lost in thought as well. His posture was relaxed, devoid of any vigilance or guard, completely indifferent to where he was. He merely yawned in boredom, waiting. "Next!" In the brief silence that was almost imperceptible, no one responded. Inside the hall of the Profound Shadow, chaos had already erupted! "Huinao! What on earth are you still doing?" At the long table, a shadowy, flickering figure pressed, "The Grandmaster entrusted this great responsibility to you! If all you want to do is stall for time and make a fool of yourself, get the hell out of the way!" Immediately, voices chimed in in agreement, and everyone around began to urge him on. Beating two or three in a row was one thing, but he's swept through eight of ours, for fuck's sake! How can you still sit there?! "What's the rush?" The gaunt man with the air of an old scholar adjusted his glasses and smiled nonchalantly. "If everyone's in such a hurry, feel free to go up first. I don't mind... "If the Grandmaster thinks I was timid before battle and useless afterward, I'll explain it myself." All the clamoring voices fell silent at once. Huinao had already looked away, casting his eyes down at the scroll in his hands. Upon the ancient parchment, line after line of text continued to surface, with intelligence and information regarding Ji Jue emerging ceaselessly, down to the minutest detail. From rising to prominence in Quancheng, laying his foundation on the Coast, to expanding into the Mid-Continent market and taking the Seven Cities, numerous recorded struggles and deductions manifested on the parchment, along with the many creations and arts in his possession... Yet even now, with so much intelligence gathered together, the photograph of Ji Jue on the paper had not even fully formed, remaining a black-and-white sketch. This meant that his understanding of Ji Jue still suffered from significant gaps! Too troublesome. Yet still within expectations. After all, the most troublesome opponents weren't established Masters, but rather 'nobodies' who had previously flown under the radar. The struggle between artisans was a struggle of creations; while it ultimately came down to technique, more often than not, victory was decided by information. A prodigy in his ascendance was simply too difficult to deal with, just like Ye Xian had been back then. One could tell that right now, Ji Jue was in the prime golden period of an artisan who had accumulated vast knowledge and was now unleashing it. His skill was advancing by leaps and bounds each day, transformed beyond recognition from day to day, potentially becoming a completely different person in just three to five months. Like an unknown black box, a bottomless pit. He had learned too much, understood too much, and concealed too much. Often, when you exerted all your strength thinking you had found his limit, all you would hear was a chuckle: Didn't expect that, did you? I've still got another inch of depth! Trying to counter him was simply too much trouble. Against an unblemished jade of talent like this, an Embers chosen capable of bringing about the descent of the Supreme Good, one couldn't give him room to perform and grow—he had to be utterly crushed by tier and raw numbers. As if anyone didn't fucking know that! Huinao felt bitter inside as well. Assigned by Elder Zhen to marshal the troops, he seemed to wield great power, but compared to the real higher-ups of the Profound, he was just a stray dog by the roadside, placed there solely to make enemies. It was the same in any workshop: the masters reaped the rewards, while the apprentices did the dirty work. How many veteran Sin-Bearing Fiends were there in the Profound who could firmly overpower an ordinary Master? Besides, almost all of them reported directly to the three Grandmasters. Even the rare exceptions answered to no summons and took no orders; they could only be enticed by profit or bargained with, utterly beyond his command! This warrant of authority had been a feather duster from the start. Iron Valve, Gongjiao, and Torch Plague were already the strongest cards in his hand. The stronger ones had either been traded away by the Association in earlier matches or refused to enter the ring until they had probed Ji Jue's depths. Without a direct order from Elder Zhen, no one wanted to take that kind of risk. If not for the improper occasion and his status, he would have flipped the table and cursed: How the fuck are we supposed to win this? You tell me—how else can we win?! Fortunately, in the end, there was still a move that, while hardly a proper solution, was better than nothing. Even if it wasn't aboveboard, who cared? As long as it worked, as long as it was effective! He turned his head, looked at the disciple behind him, and said: "Motu, you go." The artisan named Motu froze. His expression twitched, and he opened his mouth as if to protest or plead, but under Huinao's expectant gaze, the words died in his throat. In that instant, he finally understood his purpose. Yet he had no choice. And so, the pale artisan reined in his trembling and walked toward the Border Realm step by step. And thus, he stood before Ji Jue. Ji Jue fell silent as well. Weak. Far too weak—so weak it was almost offensive. Was the Profound so bereft of Masters now that they had to send out scrap like this? Yet before Ji Jue could even speak— Right before Ji Jue's eyes, Motu's face twitched again, and he gave a wretched smile. Then... he exploded. Boom!