Chapter 69
The attacks exploded into the walls behind him.
Dust clouds rose everywhere.
But Wuming still moved calmly through the destruction.
Another slash came directly toward his neck.
He disappeared instantly.
Then reappeared several meters away already stepping around the next attack before it reached him.
At one point he completely flipped upside down in midair while avoiding two intersecting slashes beneath him, his long black robes and hair flowing downward from gravity.
Every movement was precise.
Controlled.
Beautiful.
Like a lightning phantom dancing through death itself.
Even Ming's breathing became unstable watching him evade all thirteen attacks continuously.
One slash carved apart an entire stone wall behind Wuming.
Another split the courtyard floor open.
Another exploded against the distant training pillars.
Yet none touched him.
Not even once.
The entire battlefield had gone silent except for explosions and clashing qi.
Even Elder Jiu slowly stood up now.
And Elder Gu finally realized something terrifying.
Wuming was not merely testing Ming.
No-He was forcing him.
Cornering him step by step.
Pushing him toward Excussatio.
Wuming thought the Heaven Arts were impressive to be used by a kid like this. It surely consumed an enormous amount of energy. The slashes came from every direction, leaving almost no space to escape, yet every single one had a perfect delay of exactly four seconds between them and that alone gave Wuming enough time to move away smoothly while weaving through the attacks.
On the other side Elder Gu silently watched the battlefield, his eyes narrowing as another crimson slash exploded against the walls. The fight was becoming more intense with every passing second.
"Elder Jiu," he said calmly, "don't you think this fight is getting out of control for children of their age?"
Elder Jiu only grinned while watching the battlefield. "Is that so? Well, I don't think so. The same applies to your disciple too, Elder Gu."
Elder Gu remained silent for a moment before speaking again. "We both already knew these children possessed advanced martial understanding and combat abilities. But these arts, these movements and stances... they are at least above the Nascent level of Renshou."
Elder gu sat down so did epder jiu. Wei zhi saw the empty cups and brew the tea to both the elders. Elder jiu looked at wei zhi and narrowed his eyes for a brief second, as if remembering something se didnt made the eye contact though se felt his unkind eyes on her.
Elder Gu calmly placed the tea cup down while the cold night wind moved through the training grounds. His old eyes looked toward the four children standing before him.
"There are seven levels of cultivation within both the righteous and demonic paths," he said slowly. "The beginning stage is known as the Nascent Level. The stage where one first learns to awaken and control qi, internal force and the flow of one's existence."
The old man's voice remained calm yet heavy.
"After that comes the Heaven Defier Level for the demonic path... and Heaven Will Level for the righteous path. Then comes the Harbinger Level, the Radiant Level, the Venerable Level and finally the Transcendent Level."
The night became quieter.
Even the wind seemed to slow.
Then Elder Gu continued, "The final level differs according to the path one walks."
"For demon cultivators, it is known as the Crimson Vessel."
"And for righteous cultivators..."
His eyes narrowed faintly.
"The Angel Level."
Wei Zhi quietly listened beside Wuming while Weiyang crossed his arms thoughtfully.
Elder Gu then looked directly toward them.
"Currently, all three of you are on the verge of breaking through Nascent Level and stepping into Heaven Defier or Heaven Will."
Wei Zhi immediately spoke calmly, "Me and Wuming have already chosen the demonic cultivation path, Master."
Elder Gu looked unsurprised.
"I see."
Then his gaze shifted toward Weiyang briefly.
"So Weiyang and that friend of yours... Yinghua... are on the Heaven Will path?"
Wei Zhi nodded once.
"Yes, Master."
Elder Gu closed his eyes briefly before speaking.
"It is good."
Elder Jiu said, "Isn't that boy a Yaksha?"
Elder Gu calmly lifted his gaze. "Dear brother Jian, that boy has a name. Xiao Weiyang of the Xiao Clan. And even if Yakshas are demons by nature, cultivation is merely a path to strength shaped by one's beliefs and methods. What matters is not what blood flows in someone's veins, but the direction they choose."
Elder Jiu stayed silent.
Elder Gu continued, "And is it not better that he chose the righteous path instead of the demonic one?"
Elder Jiu finally nodded. "Yes. The righteous path carries more limitations... but fate and destiny favor it in return." His eyes narrowed slightly. "I believe that was your doing."
Elder Gu simply smiled in agreement.
On the battlefield, Ming's blade suddenly sliced across Wuming's hand. Blood dripped from his fingers for the first time since the fight had begun.
The disciples watching widened their eyes.
Meanwhile Ming himself was no better condition. His breathing had grown heavier, his robes burned and torn from the violent clashes. Yet his eyes remained calm like still water.
After another fierce collision, both of them pushed away from each other, their feet dragging across the cracked ground. Dust swirled between them while the pressure from their qi weighed heavily upon the arena.
Then Ming slowly raised his left hand.
His thumb, ring finger, and little finger folded inward while only his forefinger and middle finger remained extended upright before him.
The moment Elder Gu saw that stance, his expression changed.
Elder Jiu's eyes widened slightly too.
Ming spoke coldly.
"Excusatio."
A crimson glow erupted within his pupils.
The second Inevta.
The patterns within his eyes twisted and rotated unnaturally, sharp crimson rings forming around the pupils as if reality itself was cracking apart inside them.
Wuming's face instantly lit up with excitement.
A grin spread across his lips.
"So you finally decided to use it?" he laughed softly. "The second stage of Excusatio... Two Inevta."
The air exploded beneath Ming's feet.
He vanished.
The next instant he appeared behind Wuming with terrifying speed, nearly ten meters crossed in a breath.
"Well... hello there."
BOOM-
Wuming's back was struck violently.
He coughed blood from the impact as his body slid across the ground, leaving deep marks behind him.
But instead of anger-
he smiled.
His eyes gleamed brighter than before.
"So this is the speed of Two Inevta..." he muttered while wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "Not bad."
He slowly stood upright again.
"I can already reach this level through Heaven Defier cultivation alone..." Wuming said, gripping his sword tighter. "But Excusatio grants this power even to someone still at the Nascent Level... or even to those who never cultivated at all."
Lightning crackled around him again.
And this time-
the smile on Wuming's face no longer looked playful.
It looked dangerous.
Ming appeared before him once again.
Wuming had fallen onto one knee from the sheer force of the previous strike. Blood dripped slowly from his lips onto the cracked ground beneath him.
"So it enhances physical strength too..." Wuming thought quietly.
Then Ming vanished.
The next instant countless blue streaks exploded around the battlefield as Ming kept slashing his sword relentlessly. His movements became impossibly fast, appearing from every direction at once. The pressure of each strike distorted the air itself while afterimages surrounded Wuming completely.
Ming was everywhere.
Above him.
Behind him.
Beside him.
His sword flashed repeatedly like endless crossing lights tearing through the battlefield.
And Wuming...
did nothing.
The speed had become too overwhelming even for him to counter directly.
Ming's voice roared through the arena.
"Well?!"
SLASH-
"What do you think now, Wuming?!"
Another strike landed across Wuming's chest.
"Do you see it now?! This is my perfect victory!"
The crimson patterns within Ming's eyes spun violently.
"Excusatio demands pain. Emotional or physical mastery... and I possess both!"
Blood sprayed through the air as another slash struck Wuming.
Yet suddenly-
Wuming smiled.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
A terrifying smile.
"How boring..." he muttered softly while suspended in the air from the force of the attacks. "I expected more."
Then-
he vanished.
Completely.
No movement.
No sound.
It was as if his existence had been erased from the battlefield itself.
But before disappearing, everyone saw that manic grin stretched across his blood-covered face.
And after he vanished...
something slowly fell from the empty air.
Blood.
The droplets took a moment to finally hit the ground.
Drip.
Drip.
Only after the blood landed did everyone realize-
Wuming was already gone.
Elder Jiu laughed loudly.
"Well done, boy!"
But Ming did not smile.
He stood perfectly still in the center of the arena, sword lowered slightly while facing forward. The red irises of Excusatio remained active, black patterns rotating inside his eyes carefully.
Silence spread across the battlefield.
Then-
silver-white hair appeared behind him.
Flowing softly in the wind.
Wuming emerged soundlessly from the shadows behind Ming, walking slowly and calmly as though he had always been there. His pale hair swayed quietly while his cold eyes remained fixed on Ming's back.
Kai froze.
Ning's smile vanished instantly.
Even Elder Jiu stopped laughing.
Ming himself slowly stilled.
The crimson glow inside his eyes weakened slightly.
Wei Zhi smirked knowingly.
Meanwhile Weiyang grinned excitedly.
"He's so cool..." he thought while watching Wuming walk through the silence like a phantom.
Ming stood still, breathing heavily, his red irises burned faintly in the darkness. Then slowly, everyone's expression changed. Behind Ming, wuming stood perfectly aligned with him, their heights exactly the same, their shadows overlapping so completely that from afar it looked like only one person was standing there.
No one could even tell another figure existed behind him.
The only thing that inside Wuming's presence was his silver-white hair flowing quietly in the air behind Ming's dark figure. The pale hair moved slowly like cold mist while Wuming himself remained completely motionless, standing so close he looked like mings own shadow had come alive.
Kai's smile disappeared instantly while Ning stiffened beside him. Elder jiu's eyes narrowed slightly and even ming stopped moving, sensing that terrifying presence behind him. Wei zhi only fault faintly while Weiyang grinned instantly excitement thinking, how his fight would go.
Then suddenly-A sword pierced through Ming's lower abdomen from behind.
The blade naturally just beneath his heart, blood splattered onto the floor as Ming's eyes widened violently. The strike was perfectly controlled, missing every fatal point by mere fleeting. Wuming never intended to kill him. He only wanted ming to understand the difference between them.
Mings moment trembled violently the moment the blade pierced through him. The sword slipped from his fingers and crashed against the stone floor with a sharp metallic sound. Blood spilled slowly from the corner of his lips while the black patterns continued his red irises flickered unstably.
Then his eyes slowly rolled upwards.
His legs lifting all strength beneath him as his body weakly leaned against wumings sword for a brief second. A broken hand escaped his mouth before his consciousness slowly started fading away. Then gradually-his body slid down from the blade, blood dragging along the silver steel as he collapsed heavily onto the cold ground beneath the moonlight.
And slowly -he lost consciousness.
And thump.
Ming's body hit the ground heavily, the sound echoing across the ruined training grounds. His sword slipped from his trembling fingers while blood slowly spread beneath him. Kai and Ning immediately rushed toward him in panic.
"Big brother!"
But Wuming did not even look at them.
He stood silently over Ming with his head lowered slightly, strands of silver-white hair falling over his face exactly like a curtain. The blood sprayed across his pale hand and fingers beautifully contrasted against the white skin, some of it slowly dripping down past his wrist. His long thick hair flowed behind him all the way below his back, moving gently in the wind like white silk. Under the moonlight he looked breathtakingly beautiful, almost holy, like an angel that had descended into the battlefield.
Yet his face held nothing.
No smile.
No pride.
No anger.
Only complete emotionlessness.
End of 69