Chapter 2188 – To Imprison a Monarch
UNedited Chapter – Rubble
The Dreamweaver Kingdom of God.
Meng Chaoyang stood before Meng Kongchan with his eyes slightly lowered, and his gaze tilted ever so slightly. He was also exuding an unmistakable air of complicated feelings.
“It is quite rare to see the most composed and detached of the nine Dream Lords displaying such a conflicted expression.”
Meng Kongchan set down the object in his hand and fixed his gaze on him. “Is it about Yuan’er?”
Only then did Meng Chaoyang meet his Divine Regent’s gaze and said, “Before we left the realm, you once told me that I only need to ensure the Divine Son Yuan. I must not interfere with anything unless there is danger, and there is no need to report back upon our return. But….”
He paused, and the air in the hall seemed to grow still for a moment. “There are certain matters I still feel that it is necessary to discuss with you, supreme one.”
Meng Kongchan said in a calm tone, “Is it regarding the matter of Yuan’er wishing to return the dragon marrow and dragon soul within him to the dragon race?”
Meng Chaoyang showed no surprise. Instead, he narrowed his eyes slightly and said with clear sarcasm in his voice, “As expected… no matter how fast one travels, it can’t keep up with the speed of a sound transmission. I fear that the moment His Highness and I left, that old dragon had already eagerly spread the news to every corner it could reach.”
Meng Kongchan showed no sign of surprise, his voice as level as before. “Though it is somewhat unsightly, the dragon race’s behavior is understandable given their predicament. Besides, at its roots, this is something Yuan’er had actively brought upon himself… or is the matter not as the rumors suggest?”
Meng Chaoyang shook his head. “The matter of ‘returning’ the dragon marrow and dragon soul to the dragons was indeed initiated by His Highness, and His Highness’ stance was extremely firm as well. Otherwise, no matter how bold the dragons might be, they would never dare to speak falsely or make baseless claims regarding matters involving our Dreamweaver Divine Son.”
“However…” Meng Chaoyang lowered his voice slightly while keeping a close eye on the subtle shifts in the Dreamless Divine Regent’s expression. “I must say that His Highness’ actions and reactions in this matter are quite… unusual.”
Meng Kongchan offered no reply.
“Meng Chaoyang continued, “The rumors likely did not mention this, but after only arriving at the dragon’s place for a short while and exchanging brief pleasantries with the old dragon, His Highness had suddenly demanded to see Long Xi. After meeting her, he abruptly took his leave without a word and departed the place… Then, mid-air, His Highness abruptly lost his senses and fell to the ground, vomiting uncontrollably and writhing in agony.”
“……” Meng Kongchan slowly stood up, his eyebrows unconsciously furrowing into two menacing arcs.
His reaction did not cause Meng Chaoyang to balk. He continued, “At the time, faced with my doubts, His Highness had hastily concocted a flimsy excuse. After we returned to the dragon’s place, he proposed returning the dragon marrow and dragon soul to the dragon race, and explained that his earlier departure without notice stemmed from a sense of shame born of selfishness. He also confessed that, during his sudden departure, his personal desires had clashed against his master’s orders, tormenting him like a swarm of ants gnawing at his soul and causing him unbearable agony.”
“But….”
Meng Chaoyang narrowed his eyes slowly. “From what I had observed, His Highness’ explanation was, in truth, meant for my ears.”
“……” Meng Kongchan remained silent.
Meng Chaoyang lowered his voice once more, even though there was no one here to eavesdrop. “Selfishness and personal desire are the true colors of all living being’s nature. On this Pure Land, I had witnessed with my own eyes how His Highness had endured twice the amount of punishment of devouring rage without uttering a single word of complaint. Such unwavering will and resilient spirit are a sight I have never seen before in my life until then. Knowing that, I find it hard to believe that such trivial personal thoughts possibly inflict such unbearable agony upon him.
“On the journey back, as I reflected on everything, I gradually came to suspect that His Highness’ sudden change in demeanor was most likely connected to that Long Xi—”
“Chaoyang.”
It was one soft cry of two words. Yet they sent a tremor through Meng Chaoyang’s soul, causing his eyes to cloud over instantly. As if an invisible force had violently stirred up a still pond, all his thoughts, conjectures, and the words on the tip of his tongue were shattered in that instant.
Yet, in that same fleeting instant, he was forced back into clarity.
But the words on his lips could no longer be spoken.
Meng Kongchan looked at him, his expression calm and unhurried. “This is why I specifically instructed you to merely provide distant protection, without any interference or unnecessary words.”
“Supreme one…”
Meng Kongchan raised a hand, cutting off the words on his lips. “I know you worry for him, but… Yuan’er’s strength and character both come from his master and himself. Though we are his closest elders, we have never offered him any assistance, never witnessed his growth… and even failed to keep safe.
“Now, what right do we have to dictate his choices or pry into secrets he wishes to keep from others?”
He fixed his gaze on Meng Chaoyang, his words piercing the soul. “Chaoyang, remember this. No one may force Yuan’er to do what he does not wish to do; no one may press him on what he does not wish to say; and no one may pry into what he wishes to conceal—on the contrary, we must help him keep it hidden… even from me!!”
Meng Chaoyang furrowed his brows slightly before letting out a soft sigh. “Supreme one, even now I cannot discern whether your feelings toward Jianyuan are driven more by regret, or by affection.”
A touch of tenderness flickered in Meng Kongchan’s eyes. It looked as soft as an ancient jade bathing in the warm glow of moonlight. “As his father, it is only right that I grant him my trust.”
His remark caused Meng Chaoyang to be taken aback slightly.
“You Dream Lords know better than anyone what Jianxi is capable of. Yet now, he is willingly stepping back and letting Yuan’er take the lead—is that not enough??”
After a brief silence, Meng Chaoyang slowly nodded. “I understand your meaning, supreme one.”
“Let him do as he pleases. I believe he will bring us pleasant surprises that we could never have imagined. And even if he fails, makes a mess of things, or even causes a catastrophe of unimaginable proportions… So what?” Meng Kongchan turned away. His voice was neither loud nor harsh, yet it carried an intangible majesty that made the entire hall fall silent.
“In this world, beneath the Pure Land, is there anything that I, Meng Kongchan, cannot handle!?”
————
In the Divine Son Palace, Yun Che was leaning back in a wicker chair beside the courtyard pavilion. His eyes were closed gently, the picture of serenity and easiness from the outside. In reality, the intense pain within his heart had never abated.
Inside his mind, a new piece—heavy and shrouded in a dark, devilish aura—had appeared on the game board.
The dragons….
He rose to his feet and suddenly ordered, “Laisheng, close the doors. No outsiders are to be received today.”
“All of you, withdraw as well. Do not disturb me.”
Yun Che walked into the reception hall, took his seat at the desk, and raised his hand. A faint white glow started flickering softly between his fingers.
It was the tiny crystal that Mo Su had personally given him half a month ago—the one imbued with a trace of his divine soul.
Eyes narrowing, Yun Che caressed the surface of the tiny crystal for a long time. Finally, he gently snapped his finger.
Bang!
The tiny crystal shattered, and a white glow dispersed silently before vanishing in an instant.
The talisman—arguably the most powerful, and indeed the only one of its kind in the entire Abyss—was thus casually destroyed in a situation that posed no danger whatsoever.
Shiiing—
A faint hum rang out, and a pale fissure split open in the space ahead.
Yet within Yun Che’s eyes and perception, beneath that seemingly pure white glow, layers of profound, dark energy were clearly concealed.
A name emerged silently within his soul sea:
The Original Nether Void Breaching Mirror.
A figure slowly stepped out of the spatial fissure. He looked at Yun Che with a faint smile that brought a hint of warmth to his otherwise aloof face—along with a touch of resignation rarely seen on his features.
Yun Che rose to his feet and greeted him with a smile, “Big Brother, you showed up so quickly that I didn’t even have time to prepare wine to welcome you.”
Mo Su, clad in immaculate white, descended slowly. “Had the Soul Stars[1] not been scattered across the realm of Dreamweaver, and there were absolutely no danger to speak of, I would have arrived in an instant. You asked me for this item of your own accord half a month ago—was it merely to invite me to drink with you?”
Yun Che shook his head with a smile, showing not the slightest hint of regret for having “wasted” the Abyssal Monarch’s soul crystal. “Traveling such a great distance through space would undoubtedly require an immense amount of energy. Big Brother, I imagine you’ve been fully occupied with the affairs of the Eternal Pure Land lately. Unless it was a matter of great importance, how could I have disturbed you so lightly?”
Mo Su’s faint smile deepened a little. “You are the exception. I permit you to disturb me even for trivial matters.”
He took a seat in front of Yun Che before remarking, as if in passing, “I had heard a rumor before arriving. It stated that you intend to hand over the dragon marrow and dragon soul within you to the dragon race to sustain their dying lineage?”
Yun Che laughed nonchalantly. “I didn’t expect such a trivial matter to actually disturb you, Big Brother.”
Mo Su raised his gaze slightly. “Younger Brother Che, the dragon race of today is unworthy of such a sacrifice from you.”
These simply words articulated an obvious truth.
Yun Che smiled faintly, making no denial. “Whether they are worthy or not is irrelevant. What matters is Master’s sigh and admonition from back then.”
“As I expected.” Mo Su’s eyes showed no surprise; he clearly had known this all along. “Brother Ni Xuan loves bestowing favors upon others, yet he is the least willing to owe anyone a debt of gratitude.”
“Looking back on those days, Big Brother Ni Xuan and the Supreme Dragon God (Primordial Azure Dragon) shared a profound friendship. Though the Dragon God addressed him as ‘Lord Ni Xuan’ in public, in private they were the closest of friends. Their bond, one transcending both hierarchical differences and racial divides, had left a deep impression on me back then.
“I was initially astonished when I sensed the dragon aura within you on the Pure Land, and realized that it was most likely a legacy of the Supreme Dragon God. But then, I came to understand.”
Yun Che’s expression remained utterly impassive, as if he didn’t care. “Indeed, nothing can escape your eyes, Big Brother.”
Mo Su said, “Given Big Brother Ni Xuan’s character and his bond with the Dragon God, if were to witness the current plight of the dragon race, he would certainly not stand idly by. That he left such a dying wish is truly the most natural thing in the world.”
When the dragon race first spread the news, it had naturally caused quite a stir. While everyone was astonished, perhaps only one part of them had praised Yun Che for his loyalty and filial piety, while the remaining nine parts lamented his naivety and self-sacrifice.
Mo Su, though, was one the least surprised by it all.
“Though the dragon race is unworthy, I suppose no one could have changed your decision.”
Yun Che smiled without speaking, personally pouring a cup of clear tea for Mo Su and pushing it toward him.
Mo Su also smiled faintly, letting out a soft sigh identical to the ones he’d made several times before. “You and Big Brother Ni Xuan are truly too alike. Sacrificing your own interests to aid a lowly race—such foolishness that the world cannot even comprehend—perhaps only the two of you, master and disciple, could ever do such a thing.”
He raised the teacup and took a light sip. Having said this much, he stopped trying to dissuade Yun Che and allowed the matter to rest.
He rested the teacup back on the table, and the aroma of tea filled the air. He looked at Yun Che with a clarity and openness in his gaze that he reserved only for him. “So, what is this matter of importance that you specifically invited me here today? Could it be that thing you mentioned last time?”
His voice was as gentle as a breeze skimming a shallow stream, free of the slightest emotion. Clearly, though he remembered what Yun Che had said earlier, he harbored no expectations regarding the object in question.
Or perhaps, between heaven and earth, there was nothing left besides his own obsessions that could move him.
“Yes.”
Yun Che’s expression grew solemn, and his voice dropped to a low, measured tone. “I had been torn by indecision for a long time, but this journey to the dragon’s land has finally allowed me to make up my mind.
“Whether ‘returning’ this body’s dragon marrow and dragon soul to the dragon race will save them from their peril, I do not know—perhaps no one can say for certain. Such is the way of the myriad causes and effects of the world.
“But even if I knew this act was in vain, I would still make the same decision.”
He tilted his head back slightly, his eyes clouded with nostalgia and reverence. “Because my master once said, ‘Do not ask about cause and effect; ask only your own heart.’”
A faint ripple appeared silently in the depths of Mo Su’s pupils—terribly light and faint, yet lingering for a long time without subsiding.
How could he ever forget those words…?
Back then, when he was torn and tormented by his uncontrollable feelings for Pan Xiaodie—the daughter of a Devil Emperor—it was precisely those words from Ni Xuan that had given him immense strength[2].
“That is why… regarding the fate of the item Master had entrusted to me, I choose… to leave that decision to you, Big Brother.”
Yun Che raised his hand, and a wisp of ethereal profound energy quietly cradled a streak of pure white profound light. It slowly floated toward Mo Su.
When the profound light faded, a jade stone… emitting a faint white glow was revealed.
The jade stone was about the size of a palm and shaped like a lustrous white jade plate. Its edges were engraved with irregular, strange divine patterns. The lines of these divine patterns were ancient and crude, as if they were engravings that had existed since the dawn of creation. Each one seemed to contain some inexplicable, mysterious significance.
Its center was hollow, and within it floated a crystal-clear water jade. It looked like a suspended water droplet, or the shedded tear of a beauty.
If the object had appeared before anyone else, they could have read countless records about it and still find it difficult to recognize it immediately.
But he, was Mo Su.
He had recognized the object instantly. It was none other than…
The Primordial Seal of Life and Death!
Mo Su’s gaze silently met the luminous white glow mere inches away from him. He neither made a sound nor tried to touch it. He simply stared at it… for a very, very long time.
So long that it felt as if the entire world had sunk into a silence that transcended time itself, nearly frozen in place.
Yun Che too, was motionless and silent within this stagnant time, seemingly frozen. His heart did not grow heavy or anxious from this almost terrifying stillness; if anything, it gradually relaxed.
After all, his greatest fear was Mo Su showing no reaction at all.
And this prolonged silence had already dispelled that greatest fear.
Finally, Mo Su spoke, softly uttering its name. “Primordial… Seal… of… Life… and… Death.”
His voice remained elegant and detached from the world, yet something seemed to have shifted within that calm.
It was as if, deep within his soul, some emotion that had lain dormant for ages—nearly dead—had been reawakened by the white light before him.
Right now, the world in Mo Su’s gaze was nothing but a shimmering white; nothing else could exist within it. Even Yun Che’s voice sounded distant and ethereal to his ears.
“When master entrusted it to me, he told me to decide whether to give it to you or not. It’s because he feared that, not only would it fail to help you, it might plunge you into another kind of terrifying obsession instead…”
“An obsession with eternity.”
Mo Su still showed no reaction.
Yun Che looked at him and continued, “That day, you told me that light profound energy wouldn’t be able to save Xiaodie. But…”
“What about eternity?”
Mo Su’s eyelashes fluttered slightly.
Though it was only the slightest of movements—like a petal floating on still water, its edge gently lifted by a breeze—it was enough for Yun Che to know that the word “eternity” had truly touched on the deepest recesses of his soul.
“I cannot fully comprehend or be certain whether the word ‘eternity’ could give rise to a terrifying obsession.”
Yun Che’s voice was as light as wisps of cloud, as if he did not wish to disturb the still waters of Mo Su’s heart at the moment. “But I believe that there must be a reason why master is concerned about this. However, based on what I had observed and come to know about Big Brother, I believe that what you need most at this moment—even if master’s worries may turn out to be well-justified—is hope.”
“So….”
Yun Che gently moved his finger forward, pushing the faintly glowing Primordial Seal of Life and Death a fraction closer to Mo Su. “Today, at this very moment, I shall entrust to Big Brother the item master had entrusted to me. How should it be used, and what choices should be made with it—I leave it all up to you, Big Brother.”
Mo Su slowly raised his hand.
His movements were slow and cautious, as if he was afraid that he might disturb a silent, emerging dream. But just as his fingertips were about to touch that white blow, they paused. His gaze, which had been frozen for so long, slowly shifted toward Yun Che.
“Are you truly giving this to me?”
He asked a question that was utterly unlike anything the supreme Abyssal Monarch would ever ask.
“But of course.” Yun Che’s reply was devoid of any hesitation or impurity.
He looked into Yun Che’s eyes and found only a pool of clarity. “Did you know… that even the ancient gods would go mad with obsession over the word ‘eternity’?”
Yun Che, though, smiled indifferently. “Master had told me many tales of the legend of the Primordial Seal of Life and Death, and I’ve heard bits and pieces since setting foot in this world. But no matter how powerful or profound its true form may be, in my hands, it remains nothing more than a lifeless object. At the very least, I have never sensed any trace of ‘eternity’ from it.
“I believe that you are the only one in the entire world who might possess the power to revive it. In my hands, it would likely remain in this state of lifeless slumber forever—a waste of such a divine artifact.
“Therefore, just as I am returning the dragon marrow and dragon soul to the dragons, I too will surrender the Primordial Seal of Life and Death, which could only lie dormant in my hands, to its rightful master.”
Mo Su’s hand finally reached forward and gently clasped around the Primordial Seal of Life and Death.
There was no rejection, no strange glow. The seal simply and calmly changed hands.
Since its reappearance, the Primordial Seal of Life and Death had never recognized a master. With the departure of Li Suo’s remnant soul, it contained not a trace of soul imprint or soul aura either. If someone were to conduct a preliminary probe with their perception, they would only find a pure, white void.
This time, even Mo Su’s aura stirred with a faint ripple.
Eternity….
For Mo Su, his greatest fear was the passing of Pan Xiaodie.
That was why he had laid her to rest in the “Cradle” and kept vigil in solitude for three million years.
Now, the “Cradle” was on the verge of collapse.
Even the “Eternal Pure Land” was merely the greatest glimmer of hope… Behind that hope lay the cruelest of losses—eternal loss.
But, if she were to possess eternity…
If she could exist forever, then there would be eternal hope… that one day, she would awake from her slumber and return to his world.
He murmured softly, “The Primordial Seal of Life and Death—from the moment the Ancestral God had created the universe, it had ranked as the third greatest Heavenly Profound Treasure, surpassed only by the Heaven Punishing Ancestral Sword and the Evil Infant’s Wheel of Myriad Tribulations. It is the vessel of eternity and coveted by all beings under heaven… Brother Che, even as the Abyssal Monarch, I know not how to repay you for this favor.”
Yun Che, though, waved his hand and said with a smile, “There is no need for talk of repayment between us brothers. Just consider this… a special gift Big Brother Ni Xuan has left behind for you. I have merely been keeping it safe for you all this time.”
Mo Su, though did not accept this or let it go. He gazed ahead, eyes deep and inscrutable… After a few breaths, he cracked a faint smile as if suddenly remembering something.
“There is one thing that Big Brother Ni Xuan had once asked of me many times. Though I held him in the utmost respect and admiration—sharing every experience and possessions I had ever had with him—there was this one thing that I had guarded with unwavering devotion. I had never wavered for even a moment, and so he had never gotten his wish.”
He sighed softly, his smile tinged with the melancholy and resignation of countless years. “Looking back now, how foolish and absurd my steadfastness had been. After all, it was merely an inanimate object—how could it have compared to the bond between Big Brother Ni Xuan and me?”
He raised his hand, and a gleam gathered at his fingertip. He then directed it toward the space between Yun Che’s eyebrows, saying:
“Today, I entrust it to you, Younger Brother Che, both as a token of gratitude for your gift today, and an atonement of regret from those olden days.”
The soul light gathered, coalescing at Mo Su’s fingertip into a vortex of dark energy an inch wide. Then, it came to a halt in mid-air.
It was at this moment Mo Su’s form began to fade slowly. At the final possible instant, it froze into a gentle, serene smile.
He had departed in a great hurry, as if he could not wait to pursue eternity… not eternal life, but eternal hope.
“Phew!!”
Yun Che exhaled deeply, then narrowed his eyes and smiled. “Very good. Things went exactly as I anticipated… Well, no. He had departed even more hastily than I had imagined.”
He turned to Li Suo, the only known master of the Primordial Seal of Life and Death in history. “Are you certain… that within the seal lies a hope capable of binding all of his thoughts?”
“Faint, yet undying. The obsession he has clung to for three million years should be enough to drive him to try again and again, at any cost and by any means. Yet, he will never succeed.”
Li Suo replied before asking, “Won’t you first take a look at what he left behind? An object that even Ni Xuan could not obtain back in the day….”
Curiosity had long been surging uncontrollably within Yun Che’s heart. As soon as Li Suo finished speaking, he reached out and touched the vortex of profound light left behind by Mo Su with both caution and anticipation.
The moment his fingertip touched it, it suddenly shot out, transforming into a streak of light that struck Yun Che’s brow and vanished in an instant.
Strange characters slowly started appearing in Yun Che’s soul sea.
Though they were clearly words manifesting within his soul sea, each stroke resembled a sword scar originating from the unbelievably distant past—one that had existed since the very beginning of time, in fact. It carried the supreme will to cleave through the primal chaos and divide heaven and earth.
When the first four words took solid form, as if four ancient sword souls that had long lain dormant had suddenly awakened, a vast, overbearing, and intangible sword intent started stirring up his entire soul sea, pervading every corner and every soul string.
Outside his soul sea, Yun Che’s body trembled uncontrollably for an instant, and his pupils contracted sharply:
Heaven—
Punishing—
Sword—
Art!
1. Not sure what this is. ☜
2. I thought there would be a line somewhere and went back to look for it… but there was none. Ugh what a waste of time it was. ☜