Chapter 10. "Meng Chiwan, you said, the ultimate goal of cultivating immortality..."
"You are a mortal, but I can sense that you have spiritual veins within you. So, what is your purpose in cultivating immortality?" His voice was a pleasant, youthful tone, and if his eyes were covered, it would complement his handsome face perfectly.
"To survive." Meng Chiwan said without the slightest hesitation.
But the boy frowned, stared at her with his empty eyes, then sighed softly, and the candlelight suddenly went out.
His voice echoed in the empty sword mound, the bytes bobbing back and forth against each sword: "You can't save me. At least not yet."
Her vision was blurry.
A thick fog blanketed the area.
The stench of blood mixed with the scent of sand filled her nostrils. The sound of talismans being rubbed against her ears gradually drew her into a new scene from left to right.
Then the fog dissipated.
In her confusion, she was pulled along and hurriedly dodged a burst of spiritual magic.
"What are you staring at!" Someone shoved her, their voice panicked and urgent. "Even if you want to die, not now! Do you know what happens to cultivators captured by the demons?!"
I am no longer an ordinary person.
Based on her memories, she raised the magical weapon in her hand and aimed it at the demon who was casting a spell on her.
One arrow, two arrows!
Each arrow contained a spiritual power she had never experienced in her entire life. In her eyes, it seemed capable of devouring the heavens and the earth.
But the arrow was easily blocked by the demon. The demon turned its scarlet eyes and raised its hand, unleashing three sword strikes towards her. The fierce momentum seemed to be aimed at severing her head.
Except for those eyes.
In fact, it looks no different from a human. It can also use a sword and learn martial arts techniques.
She dodged aside. But three bloody scratches still appeared on her cheek, and a few strands of hair were cut off and fell from her ears into the sand and blood.
For the first time, she felt her body was so light, as if she had merged into the air. It was also the first time she had truly witnessed a battle between cultivators and demons.
But even then, she still had no intention of changing her mind. What was the point of becoming a cultivator? For her, it was simply to live.
You really can die here.
Here, strength comes first.
Even though she possessed those memories about cultivators, they weren't truly her own. Therefore, she always seemed somewhat slow-witted, like a toddler learning to walk. Moreover, this was the first time she had truly become a cultivator capable of combat.
Her companions seemed to notice her sluggishness and unusual behavior.
He dealt with the demon in front of her, then shouted at her, "What's wrong with you?! Do you really want to die?"
She quickly regained her composure, drew her bow again, the bowstring brimming with spiritual energy, and replied, "I'm fine! Thank you!"
But she soon discovered that the growth of spiritual energy could never keep up with the consumption. She went from squandering the spiritual energy in her body at the beginning to gradually depleting it.
That's not enough. Far from enough.
She quickly glanced around and found that almost all the cultivators around her looked exhausted. Their usual white robes were stained with bright red blood, it was hard to tell whether it was their own or that of their enemies.
On the contrary, the demons on the battlefield seemed to have an inexhaustible source of energy, showing no signs of fatigue.
The Demon Race. What exactly are they?
Her doubts grew stronger. Her body also began to struggle more. Perhaps none of this was real, but she had no choice but to give it her all, because everything was uncertain.
At that moment, a magical arrow materialized and pierced through the thousands of blood mists, heading straight for her. When she looked up and met its gaze, she only had time to see the glowing arrowhead.
At that moment, she was too late to dodge.
One zhang (approximately 3.3 meters).
One inch.
The difference is minuscule!
The distance was closed in an instant.
And then...
dissipate.
The barrier was broken.
The companion beside him seemed to be a different person.
He appeared neither afraid nor flustered.
He quickly erected a protective barrier, shielding her from the arrow, but merely smiled at her. He neither scolded her nor pushed her.
She was too slow to react and was waiting for the arrow to pierce her eye.
He was dressed in a red robe, rising into the air, his entire being resembling a blood moon. And that arrow seemed to contain immense power far exceeding hers, enough to utterly kill her.
This was merely a stroke of his pen, made lightly and casually, as he confronted a powerful figure from the immortal sects.
In her dying moments, she clearly felt the sound of the arrow tip slicing through the air; the arrow seemed to have cut off the air supply, making her forget to breathe.
She realized more clearly than ever before that she was only a hair's breadth away from death, that the string of life was as thin as a silkworm's thread.
Strength is everything.
The reason she couldn't avoid it was precisely because she was inferior to him. Here, she was like one of the millions of specks of dust on the ground.
If that's not the case, what exactly did that boy want to tell her by bringing her here?
A thick mist of blood gathered again, obscuring her vision.
Talismans exploded around her one after another, and various formations spread beneath her feet. The spiritual energy within her body began to revive, and the spiritual power flowing through her spiritual veins was like mountain spring water gushing down from the mountain.
As she pierced the demon not far away with an arrow, she glanced back behind her.
Someone was kneeling on the ground, constantly forming hand seals, channeling spiritual energy forward little by little. Meanwhile, the person drawing the array on the other side dared not relax for a moment, even though their own spiritual veins were already completely empty.
is that so?
Is the intention to tell her that as long as she moves forward, there will be people behind her to help her?
She felt as if her heels were floating on the soft sand, unable to find solid ground.
The child barely reached her shoulder, his innocent face still showing signs of immaturity, yet her expression was focused and composed, as if she had been prepared for everything long ago.
Her moves looked more skillful than Meng Chiwan's.
"Help me!"
Meng Chiwan seemed to be hallucinating. But was it really a hallucination?
At the critical moment, the talisman in her hand flew out, and she shielded her with her own body, using up all the spiritual power in her spiritual veins to block that heavy blow for her!
But she couldn't stop that sword technique at all; the three long swords that the technique conjured still passed right through her body.
Blood splattered everywhere, and finally, along with her, they crashed heavily to the ground.
She saw the child's eyes and brows filled with terror, which quickly turned into grief.
But she only thought to herself that she seemed to see the human world, to see all living beings.
But living is never a simple thing.
Perhaps one can live for oneself, or one can live for the sake of others.
These monks stand here, striving not only to live, but also to ensure the survival of others.
Therefore, she did nothing wrong.
Will this be death?
She thought to herself in the end.
But the pain is persistent.
She lay on the ground coughing up blood, but her breathing grew calmer and calmer. At that moment, everything around her slowed down. Everything seemed to be avoiding her.
Someone squatted down in front of her and sighed softly, as if regretting, or perhaps...
Then he gently took her hand, and her pain slowly subsided. His hair fell onto her cheek, like willow branches swaying in the water, brushing against her face in the wind, again and again.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say thank you, but she had no strength left. Finally, she saw another scarlet arrow hurtling through the air, and a wave of sorrow washed over her once more.
Then, everything went completely dark.
Darkness enveloped her once more, leaving her adrift and uncertain of where she would end up.
She didn't know how much time had passed. So long that she felt her breath was about to stop.
"Meng Chiwan. Tell me, what is the purpose of cultivating immortality?" That familiar young voice rang out again.
She wanted to ask the boy what kind of answer he wanted. What kind of answer would be worthy of being the savior in his heart, the one who could wash away all the resentment in his heart and restore the fairness and justice he deserved?
Yes.
Savior.
But if he's the savior, then as long as she's willing to give everything to save him, isn't that enough? What exactly does he want?
Is it just for him alone?
The heartbeat became clearer and clearer.
The boy's voice echoed repeatedly, like the deepest sound that is silent. Yet it was clearly just a boy, or even just a boy whose eyes had been gouged out, whose resentment lingered in the courtyard and refused to dissipate.
But she was just a child herself.
He asked her.
She then answered.
She is always being forced to make certain decisions.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com