Within the ancient mirror.
A man in blood-red robes strode through the vast, boundless desert, holding a blood-colored longsword.
His blood-red robes snapped and fluttered in the howling wind.
Seen from afar, his lonely silhouette resembled a smudge of blood-red setting sun.
Clutching her dripping, bloody wound, an injured young girl pursued the blood-red figure without looking back.
The onlookers were all moved by the sight.
"To pursue him across thousands of li after suffering such a ruthless, merciless slash... Palace Master of Heavenly Heart Palace, you truly are... devoted," Ling Yayi sighed.
Ning Tao's expression did not waver as she stared fixedly at the mirror's surface. "She is she. I am I."
Naturally, she was unwilling to accept that the girl in the ancient mirror was her true self.
The scene shifted once more.
Carved of powder and jade, with arched willow-leaf brows, the girl found the blood-robed man yet again. She gazed blankly at him, softly murmuring, "Blood Pearl..."
It seemed she desperately wanted to say something, yet no words would come, leaving her able only to softly murmur his name.
The blood-robed man looked up, his gaze frigid and devoid of emotion. In the line of his sight, there was no girl at all.
All he saw was empty air—an illusory figure whose face could not be discerned.
"All is vanity. All is oblivion."
He drew his sword again, and a blood-red sword shadow flashed.
This time, his strike seemed to carry even more force; the girl was cleaved cleanly in two at the waist.
Incredulity washed over the girl's face, tear tracks already glistening on her cheeks. "Blood Pearl..."
Yet she could say nothing else, able only to murmur that name.
Watching this unfold, the crowd wore complicated expressions, an anger stirring in their hearts toward the blood-robed figure.
"This man is far too callous!"
"Cold and heartless—a demon through and through."
"I don't know what happened either. Let's keep watching."
A trace of melancholy also flickered through the eyes of the White Emperor's avatar.
Was this the agony endured within the Gate of Myriad Demons?
The scene continued. The blood-robed figure wandered aimlessly through the mortal world.
Without the girl tethering him, he seemed to walk faster, and to kill more ruthlessly.
When he came upon a town, he drew his sword and slaughtered it.
When he came upon a city, he drew his sword and butchered it.
Every living creature that met his eye was killed, killed, killed.
The onlookers looked horrified. "This is a god of slaughter!"
"He's fallen into madness!"
"Palace Master of Heavenly Heart Palace, how could you ever love such an Archdemon?"
Ning Tao watched coldly, biting her lip without saying a word.
The blood-red figure was like the world's most terrifying demon, slaughtering every enemy in sight.
Wind and snow raged, howling wildly.
Astride the city wall, a heavily armored general led an army of tens of thousands out of the city gates to confront that blood-red figure.
Tens of thousands of soldiers marched bravely to their deaths.
The great battle raged for seven days and seven nights.
The military might of an entire nation had gathered there.
Like a reaper of death, the blood-red silhouette ceaselessly harvested the realm's living souls.
At last, one night, the blood-robed man finally exhausted his strength. Clutching his broken sword tightly, a puzzled look appeared in his eyes. "Am I... this weak?"
The blood-robed man could not understand why he was so frail.
He clearly remembered slaughtering three thousand cultivators of his own rank without batting an eyelid.
Why could an ordinary mortal army bring him down?
The blood-red figure was captured and bound in heavy chains.
Layer upon layer of iron shackles wrapped around his entire body.
The citizens of the royal capital poured into the streets, spreading the news far and wide. Watching the blood-red figure in the prisoner's cart, they danced with joy, broad grins on their faces.
They cursed and reviled him.
Rotten eggs, pebbles, and spoiled cabbage pelted the blood-red figure.
The Grand General Protecting the Realm had captured the Blood Demon. The demon would be paraded through the streets for seven days, then burned at the stake before the Meridian Gate.
For those seven days, the capital was a bustling frenzy.
All the accumulated gloom and dread of the populace was vented onto that blood-robed figure.
Seven days passed, and the blood-robed man was bound tight against an iron pillar.
Piled high below was a towering stack of firewood.
Women spat curses at him. "Demon! Burn him! Burn him to ash!"
"A monster like him deserves to die! Cast him into eternal hell, never to reincarnate!"
As the torrent of abuse entered his ears, a touch of bewilderment touched the blood-robed figure's eyes. "I am... a demon?"
He felt as though he had forgotten something.
Raging flames were ignited, the choking smoke making it impossible to keep his eyes open.
A somewhat familiar voice drifted in: "Blood Pearl..."
A petite figure flew over the crowd below and threw her arms tightly around the chained man. She tugged frantically at the iron links, but it was utterly in vain.
"Blood Pearl..." The girl's voice was fraught with anxiety. As the inferno spread, she held the blood-robed man close, shaking him repeatedly in an effort to wake him.
"You..." A sliver of clarity surfaced in the blood-robed figure's eyes. "Who are you?"
He opened his eyes, yet saw nothing.
He clearly felt someone embracing him, yet he could not see her.
"I..." The girl wanted to speak, yet no words could leave her mouth; she could only keep crying out his name: "Blood Pearl."
The fire spread steadily under the watch of tens of thousands, their faces radiating delight and jubilation.
The girl clung to that blood-red robe, refusing to let go even as the flames engulfed her body.
Amid the freezing ice and snow, the petite, delicate girl held the blood-robed man tight, both swallowed by the roaring inferno.
Snow fluttered down as the fire burned ever brighter, until... nothing remained.
Ning Tao remained silent.
Ling Yayi continued to sigh, "A truly lovesick soul." As he spoke, he glanced at Ning Tao with a tragic expression.
"The demon deserved his death, but it's a pity for the girl who leapt into the fire with him," He Wu remarked.
"Truly foolish," a woman lamented. "Though we are the Thirteen Northern Demon Fiends, a fiend who slaughters the innocent deserves no sympathy or pity, let alone devotion."
"Palace Master of Heavenly Heart Palace, who could have guessed you had such a past?" someone nearby added.
In the eyes of everyone present, the girl in the mirror had acted foolishly beyond reason.
Just then, the scene in the ancient mirror shifted again.
Everyone froze. "It's still not over?"
The White Emperor's avatar said softly, "Samsara exists in this world. Observe together, everyone."
Everyone turned their gaze back to the mirror.
It was still an expanse of ice and snow.
Clutching an infant to her chest, the girl walked barefoot through the snow.
The sky was pitch-black; only the snow remained white.
Countless torches formed a blazing trail behind them, accompanied by furious shouts.
"Put down the demon infant!"
"This child is an omen of calamity and must be slain!"
Clutching the infant tightly, the girl fled from the pursuit of hundreds.
The two escaped into the mountains and took shelter in a cavern.
Looking down at the baby, a tender smile surfaced in her eyes. "Blood Pearl..."
Her finger instinctively moved close to his mouth.
Who could have expected the infant to snap his mouth open, biting down hard with dense, sharp teeth until fresh blood stained his lips red.
The girl's heart lurched, yet she only drew the infant closer.
The onlookers wore grim expressions. "A true demon... He deserves death!"
The scene shifted. The demon infant of before had grown into the blood-robed man once more.
He was solitary and eccentric, rarely speaking to anyone.
He sat by a stream, staring blankly at the water day after day.
When a fish swam past, a flash of bloody light flickered in his eyes.
Rip! The fish was impaled.
Blood spread like drops of red ink diffusing in the water.
The delicate girl appeared, heartache in her eyes.
The blood-robed man spun around abruptly. "I am not Blood Pearl! I... am a demon! I am the Archdemon!"
After entering the Gate of Myriad Manifestations, the Archdemon's consciousness had begun assimilating him.
The path he walked was the path once trodden by the Archdemon.
Otherwise, if he were truly Qi Yuan, how could an ordinary army ever capture him?
He was merely experiencing the Archdemon's endless cycles of samsara.
He cast a glance in the girl's direction, then vanished into thin air.
The girl chased anxiously after him.
Hearing this, the onlookers were seized by horror.
"He is the Archdemon...!"
"The Archdemon!"
The Sovereigns of the Southern Lands might not know much about the Archdemon, but the Sovereigns of the Northern Lands knew all too well.
Legend had it that all demonic monstrosities in the world were created by the Archdemon.
The present North-South Accord, the tragic plight of the current Liufeng Realm—all of it had been wrought by the Archdemon's hand.
This blood-robed man was actually the legendary Archdemon.
Then wouldn't that make Ning Tao... the demoness!
Everyone looked at Ning Tao with profound wariness, instinctively edging away from her.
Surprise flickered in Bai Ze's eyes. Realizing something, he said in a low voice, "This is an illusion, not reality. Rather, he has fallen into the Archdemon's samsara. Far from being events that happened to him, this is the Archdemon's past!"
These events were all things that had happened to the Archdemon, none of which were real.
Only for that incongruous Canary, who had ceaselessly tried to awaken the blood-robed man, was every bit of it true.
In the mirror, the blood-robed youth departed the mountains, like an evil spirit unleashed from Pandora's box.
Sword in hand, he slaughtered without end.
On a rainy night, he slaughtered an entire household.
The girl appeared once more, crying anxiously, "Blood Pearl..."
A murderous intent shone in the blood-robed youth's eyes. Speaking to thin air, he said, "I... am not Blood Pearl. I am the Archdemon. All who are demons must butcher all living things. All who are demons are loathed by Heaven and reviled by mankind."
Yet the girl held him tightly, refusing to let go.
"Die!" A merciless sword strike burst forth, dyeing the girl's robes red as blood trickled from the corner of her lips.
Time flowed on. Clasping a longsword, the blood-robed figure who called himself the Archdemon slaughtered every living soul, as if that alone were the meaning of his existence.
Ten years later, masters of the eight great sects mobilized in full force to suppress the Archdemon.
In the battle at Tianduan Cliff, the Archdemon slew half of his foes before his strength gave out.
There was no fear in his eyes, only a thread of bewilderment and endless slaughter.
At that moment, the familiar girl appeared. Wrapping her arms around his completely drained body, she leapt down into the boundless magma below.
This life... came to an end.
In the first life, he had slaughtered all living things, was captured by an army of tens of thousands, and suffered being burned alive; she held him tight, enduring the agony of being swallowed by the flames.
In the second life, he slaughtered without end, was besieged by the eight great sects, and exhausted his strength; she embraced him and leapt into the roiling magma.
The third life raised its curtain.
She chained him up and confined him within an ancient pagoda. Dressed in simple plain robes with an unadorned face, she prayed for him every day.
One night, he remembered once more that he was the Archdemon.
He broke free and wrought endless slaughter.
Ultimately, he was suppressed by three thousand Buddhas in Guke Purgatory. She accompanied him inside, suffering fifty years of burning fires, piercing swords, and freezing waters.
In the fourth life, he brought disaster to an entire realm and was sunk to the bottom of the ocean. She searched the whole seabed before finally finding him, sinking into ruin alongside him.
Life after life.
For the blood-robed figure, it was always kill, kill, kill.
He seemed to have forgotten who he was, remembering only that he was the Archdemon.
He had to slaughter everything.
And she watched over him, accompanied him, and sank with him through samsara.
Reviled by ten thousand people, enemies with the entire world, suffering Heaven's wrath—that was the Archdemon, and it was also Blood Pearl.
Through it all, she stood unfailingly by his side.
Everyone was genuinely moved.
Even Ning Tao felt somewhat numb.
She did not know how many times the girl had been pierced by his sword.
She did not know just what kind of agony that girl had endured.
She only knew that it must have hurt so terribly.
No matter what happened, the girl foolishly stood at his side, supporting him without reservation.
It was incomprehensible, impossible to understand.
At this moment, Bai Ze, who had remained silent, spoke again: "The scenes in the ancient mirror may be illusions. Back then, to save all living souls under Heaven, our revered master stepped alone into the Gate of Myriad Manifestations to suppress inner demons... while you entered the Gate of Myriad Demons to awaken him..."
Surprise showed in everyone's eyes.
If this was an illusion, it was indeed easier to accept.
Yet even if it were an illusion, the endless slaughter across multiple lives remained difficult to swallow.
Merely watching was enough to make one feel the girl's anguish.
To say nothing of experiencing it firsthand—being repeatedly slaughtered by the person dearest to her heart.
What kind of agony must that be?
"An illusion?" Just then, a contemptuous voice rang out. "Is this truly an illusion? This is clearly... the Archdemon's entire life, merely reenacted within an illusion. Blood Pearl is clearly the real Archdemon!"
Along with this voice, a woman in white robes appeared, a charming, coquettish smile on her face, oozing boundless allure.
Seeing the newcomer, the eyes of everyone present snapped wide. "The Venerable!"
Confusion flickered across the White Emperor's face, followed by a darkening scowl. "Venerable, do not twist the facts!"
The newcomer was none other than an avatar of the Venerable.
"Bai Ze, why deceive yourself?" The Venerable smiled seductively. "For the sake of a so-called revered master, are you unwilling to trust even your wedded wife? Are you unwilling even to say my name?"
As she spoke, sorrow showed in her eyes. "You have never been willing to believe in me. Look at that demoness. In the illusion, even as the Archdemon slaughters the world and beats and kills her at every turn, she never abandons him, seeking always to awaken him. The only pity is that while the demoness has feelings, the Archdemon has none. Bai Ze, could you ever trust me the way the demoness trusts the Archdemon?"
Following the Venerable's words, seven terrifying figures descended onto the scene.
The auras of these seven were unmistakably Grand Sovereigns, and by no means ordinary ones.
The seven silhouettes surrounded Bai Ze and the Thirteen Northern Demon Fiends present.
Bai Ze wore a desolate look. "Yanran, why make wild guesses about groundless things? The Slate of Fate has influenced you far too deeply."
The Venerable was none other than the wedded wife of the White Emperor Bai Ze—Shang Yanran.
Shang Yanran stepped forward, her overpowering aura washing outward.
The Thirteen Northern Demon Fiends felt an immense pressure weigh down on them.
Ning Tao's eyes also held deep dread. Such power was not something she could possibly resist.
"The Slate of Fate is merely a treasure; how could it influence me?" A sliver of contempt showed in Shang Yanran's eyes. "In truth, whether the master is the Archdemon, and whether she is the demoness... won't we have our answer if we keep watching? Bai Ze, if Master is the Archdemon and she is the demoness, would you suppress and execute both of them for the sake of the world? Only when the Archdemon and demoness are utterly wiped out can the Liufeng Realm restore peace across myriad realms! Only then can the North-South Accord and the struggle over the Gate of Myriad Demons truly be put to rest!"
Hearing this, Bai Ze hesitated.
A smile touched Shang Yanran's eyes; she knew she could not convince him right now.
In fact, she too was curious about how the former Blood Lord had ever walked out of the Gate of Myriad Manifestations.
The Gate of Myriad Manifestations was not something one could easily wake someone from just by entering the Gate of Myriad Demons.
Once trapped inside, even if one were not the Archdemon, one became the Archdemon.
He would walk the Archdemon's path all over again, reliving everything that had ever happened to the Archdemon.
The seven powerhouses stood behind the Venerable, regarding everyone coldly.
Surrounded, the White Emperor felt immense anxiety in his heart.
This avatar of his could barely hold off Shang Yanran's avatar.
As for those seven powerhouses, the Thirteen Northern Demon Fiends stood no chance against them.
He said nothing, accepting Shang Yanran's suggestion to watch the ancient mirror together.
Within the images, the cycles of reincarnation were endless.
For the blood-robed figure, it was all slaughter.
For the petite girl, it meant being wounded again and again by the person she loved most, only to die alongside him in the end.
It seemed an insoluble loop of samsara.
Thousands of years, tens of thousands of years—only the most deeply etched memories surfaced within the ancient mirror.
Yet none of them could count how many sword thrusts had been dealt, how many deaths had occurred.
What they saw was already so excruciating.
How much more remained unseen?
North winds howled wildly as the blood-robed figure slaughtered an entire city to the last soul.
This time, he did not strike the girl down with his sword.
Looking at the girl with a face like pear blossoms, a tremor rippled through his voice for the first time: "I am a demon; you should not follow me. I have never seen you, nor do I know where you truly are. Or perhaps you do not exist at all, and you are merely my delusion. This city... is named No Return. Wait for me here—perhaps a thousand years, perhaps ten thousand. If I can return, I will come see you. If I cannot return, then leave."
After slaughtering across endless ages, the blood-robed man seemed to recall something.
From the moment he stepped into the Gate of Myriad Manifestations, he had become the Archdemon.
He was the Archdemon!
The girl looked at the blood-robed man with reluctance written across her face, clutching his sleeve tightly and refusing to let go. "Blood Pearl..."
The blood-robed man raised his sword. The girl stared stubbornly back at him, still refusing to release her grip.
Seeing this, the Thirteen Northern Demon Fiends were moved. Would that sword swing down just as it had in the past?
A flash of blood-red light swept past, spraying crimson. A severed arm remained tightly clutched in the girl's hands.
The blood-robed figure had severed his own arm before vanishing into the endless desert.
Clutching the severed arm tightly, she was finally able to speak a full sentence, yet only as he truly departed: "Blood Pearl... you must remember, you are not the Archdemon!"
This had been her true purpose in coming here.
The moment he believed he was the Archdemon, he could never be awakened.
She sat alone in the empty city.
One person, one city, waiting for one man.
In the mortal realm, peach blossoms bloomed, light skiffs drifted past myriad mountains, and the spring breezes of Jiangnan were tucked inside letters—when opened, the unreturned beloved seemed to feel spring even in the biting winter chill.
Years turned, seas changed into mulberry fields, and the girl sat atop the city wall day after day, not even knowing whom she waited for.
She took one glance, and ten years passed, a hundred years, a thousand years, ten thousand years...
After endless ages, the blood-robed figure emptied another city in slaughter. Suddenly, he let out a soft laugh. "I am not the Archdemon..."
When he had stepped into the Gate of Myriad Manifestations, he had been the Archdemon.
Yet now, he had forgotten.
"I am not the Archdemon... then who am I..."
Within the barrier, a flicker of astonishment passed through the Venerable's eyes.
Upon stepping into the Gate of Myriad Manifestations, regardless of who the Blood Lord had been before, he was bound to become the Archdemon.
Yet right now, why had the Blood Lord inside the Gate of Myriad Manifestations broken free?
She could not understand it; she was utterly baffled.
Naturally, she did not know.
The origin divine ability Qi Yuan had awakened was Oblivion.
He had forgotten the fact that he was the Archdemon.
Thus, he broke free of the Gate of Myriad Manifestations' confinement.
Thus, he was not the Archdemon.
The imagery in the ancient mirror blurred into haziness.
The blood-robed man killed no more, instead fading into the mortal world.
Sometimes, he stood by a stream in a daze, murmuring, "Who am I?"
Sometimes, he sat languidly under eaves watching the falling rain. "What did I forget?"
Sometimes, he stared at ants on the ground. "It seems I've forgotten everything."
He crouched there like a stone.
Dust settled over him.
Withered leaves drifted onto his shoulders.
Deep in the mountains, he turned into a boulder.
One thousand years, ten thousand years—the mortal realm had already passed through endless cycles of reincarnation.
Suddenly, a voice drifted to his ears: "In the midst of the desert, a city has appeared. Inside is a woman who has been waiting for one person all along."
A city?
The boulder pondered.
Fragments of rock crumbled away, and a blood-red figure emerged.
Endless thoughts flashed through his eyes.
"Someone is still waiting for me."
PS: These experiences actually belonged to the Archdemon and the demoness; Qi Yuan merely entered the Gate of Myriad Manifestations and experienced the Archdemon's samsara of falling to demons, while Canary witnessed these scenes within the Gate of Myriad Demons and constantly strove to awaken Qi Yuan.
Chapter 128