Gù Míng pointed his finger at Líng Fēng.
Instantly, the God of War felt an invisible force crush him from all sides, squeezing him so tight his bones began to creak. "I am the legendary God of War," Líng Fēng grunted, forcing the words out. "You won't kill me that easily."
Just then, the soldier from the Dark Realm returned, carrying a basket overflowing with food. He was not alone. Two Light Realm soldiers came along at the same time with him.
"General!" they called out to Líng Fēng. Líng Fēng's eyes flicked towards his men. In that split second of distraction, the crushing pressure vanished. He looked back. Gù Míng was gone. The basket of food was gone. The two Dark Realm soldiers had vanished.
"DAMMIT!" Líng Fēng roared, his voice shaking the street.
"General, there is an emergency!" one of the soldiers said, panting.
"Han Yuan has escaped!"
"What are you still doing here!" Líng Fēng shouted.
"Go search for him! Find him, whatever it takes!"
"There's another matter to report!" the other soldier added. "The Sword of Light has been successfully summoned!"
"Heh," Líng Fēng laughed, a low, dangerous sound. "Hahahaha!" he continued, his laughter echoing in the ruined street.
He looked towards a shadowed alley. "Did you hear that, Yè Liú, General of the Dark Realm?"
A man stepped out of the shadows, fanning himself with an elegant white fan.
"Ah, so you noticed me? Since when?" Yè Liú said with a lazy smile.
"I suggest you surrender now," Líng Fēng sneered. "You have no chance against the Sword of Light." Yè Liú just smiled. "I don't understand. You could have used Gù Míng to fight for you. Then you would have had a better chance of winning. Why let him go?"
Líng Fēng's face hardened. "I see. So this is how it is."
He took a step forward, his voice dripping with venom.
"This whole war… it was a distraction to free Han Yuan. As expected of a pretty playboy. All you know is scheming. You don't deserve to be called a general!"
Yè Liú laughed again, a light, carefree sound. "Hahahaha, see you around, Feng Feng." With a flick of his fan, he flew into the air and disappeared.
"Should we go after him?" one of the guards asked. "Nonsense! Do you think you two can defeat him!? Let's go back to the palace. We need the Sword of Light."
Lín'ān Chéng, the City of Approaching Peace.
Gù Míng walked calmly through the streets, carrying his basket of food.
Suddenly, the bright sky went dark. Thunder rumbled. An object, trailing pure white light, fell from the heavens and slammed into the ground right in front of him.
A sword. He looked around. No one else seemed to notice. Life went on around him as if nothing had happened. As he watched, the divine sword shimmered, shrank, and turned into a small, sharp knife. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. "Let's take a break."
From his sleeve, a tiny, fluffy white rabbit poked its head out. Xiangling.
She opened her ruby-red eyes, saw Gù Míng, and immediately puffed up her chest.
"Audacious! How dare a mere inheritor of the universe's orb light power keep the great Xiangling in a pocket!"
Gù Míng deadpanned. "You went in the pocket yourself."
"Lies!" Xiangling replied indignantly. "I am the guardian of the universe! I would never enter a mere inheri-"
Before she could finish, Gù Míng pulled a carrot from the basket and gently stuffed it into her mouth.
"Ridiculous!" she mumbled, already chewing furiously. "You dare humiliate me like this!?"
"You lost your powers, right?" Gù Míng threatened. "Keep talking and I will turn you into rabbit meat."
"You wouldn't dare," Xiangling scoffed.
Gù Míng took out the new knife he had just pocketed. The rabbit squeaked and panicked. He started peeling an apple.
"Wait," Xiangling whispered, her eyes wide. "Is that the…?"
"...The Sword of Light! Where is it!?" Líng Fēng roared, back in the Light Palace. A ritual performer trembled before him.
"According to the ritual charts, General, the sword has indeed been granted! But as for where it has landed… I have no idea."
"My great-great-great-great-(a few eternities later)-great grandfather, up to our generation, made all efforts to keep this ritual alive!" Líng Fēng was beyond angry. "Go find it! Don't come back alive if you don't!"
"Why is the Sword of Light with you?" Xiangling asked in a hushed voice.
"Don't you know that your great-great-great-(a few eternities later)-ancestors went through all that trouble just to get it? And here you are, using it to peel apples!"
Gù Míng ignored her. "Why are you more talkative than me?" He had arrived at his destination: a massive, shimmering gate that separated the realms. The Gate to the Mortal Realm.
"You can't go in!" Xiangling shouted, jumping down from his arms.
"Humans and immortals cannot mix! It is a law of the universe!"
She looked past him, her ears twitching. "And you can't go in either, white-haired boy," she said, her voice suddenly serious.
Gù Míng turned. Standing behind him, silent as a ghost, was a man with long, snow-white hair and eyes as cold as a winter abyss, Han Yuan.