pjbooks Chapter 153 Take the chapter
Chapter 153 Take the chapter
The night wind of the Alps, carrying the chill of the snow-capped peaks, poured into the makeshift camp from the depths of the valley. The last few wisps of dark golden light left after the collapse of the Apostle's Temple drifted in the night sky, like a swarm of fireflies about to go out, making their final struggle under the starlight.
Jiang Chen stood at the edge of the camp, his back to everyone. His uniform was covered in cracks and bloodstains, turning a dark reddish-brown in the moonlight. The light blue hairband on his right wrist fluttered gently in the night breeze, its end brushing against the back of his cracked hand, like a mother's hand gently stroking a wound.
Footsteps sounded behind him. They were very light, as light as stepping on snow, but Jiang Chen knew who it was.
"Brother Chen." Wang Kai's voice came from behind him, so hoarse it was almost inaudible, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, "The medical team is here. Old Chen said you should treat the wound first."
Jiang Chen didn't turn around. He looked down at the six-colored flame pattern on his right palm, watching the six colors of light slowly flowing within the pattern, and remained silent for a moment.
"Wang Kai, how's your hand?"
Wang Kai paused for a moment, then subconsciously raised his right hand. New fingertips had grown about half an inch from the cut surface; the pinkish-white skin shimmered with a faint reddish hue in the moonlight, and the nails hadn't fully grown in, revealing the tender red nail bed beneath. He slowly flexed and extended his fingers, the newly formed joints making a soft clicking sound, like the awkward creaking of a newly installed door opening and closing for the first time.
"It's still growing," Wang Kai said. "The emerald green light of the Immortal Emperor is still inside me. It hasn't left."
Jiang Chen turned around and looked at Wang Kai's right hand, at the half-inch of newly grown fingertip, at the bone fragments and flesh still slowly growing at the broken end of the fingertip. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
"The Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life has chosen you." Jiang Chen's voice was very soft, as if he were stating something that had already been destined. "Your Chaos Spiritual Root can absorb the power of all attributes, including the Dao Fruit of an Immortal Emperor. The remnant soul of the Immortal Emperor of Life has awakened within you, and it will not leave."
Wang Kai's pupils contracted slightly. He looked down at his right palm, at the extremely faint emerald green line emerging from beneath his skin. The line was so faint it was almost invisible, yet it was undeniably there. It moved slowly in his palm, like a newborn fish that hadn't yet decided where to swim.
"Brother Chen, do you mean I've also obtained the Immortal Emperor Dao Fruit?"
"It's not that you possess it. It's that the Immortal Emperor Sheng Sheng chose you." Jiang Chen raised his right hand, and the Primordial Sword emerged from his palm. Six stars on the blade slowly rotated, and the emerald green star among them flashed for a moment, as if greeting the emerald green patterns on Wang Kai's palm. "The Immortal Emperor's Dao Fruit is not an inherited legacy; it is a living being that chooses its own master. Thirty thousand years ago, the Immortal Emperor Sheng Sheng used his Dao Fruit to create a life shield for the entire battlefield. Thirty thousand years later, his Dao Fruit awakens within you because your Dao Heart is the same as his."
Wang Kai was silent for a moment. Then he raised his head and looked into Jiang Chen's eyes.
"Brother Chen, what is the Dao Heart of the Immortal Emperor of Life?"
"Protection." Jiang Chen sheathed the Primordial Sword in his palm, turned around, and looked at the busy medical team members in the camp, at the students lying on stretchers, covered in wounds, and at the young faces that could finally cry out loud after the collapse of the Apostle Hall. "The Dao Heart of the Immortal Emperor of Life is Protection. He protected life itself, those Immortal Emperors wounded in the war, and those humans who did not give up in despair. Thirty thousand years ago, he used the power of 'life' to support the entire battlefield. Thirty thousand years later, he awoke in your body because he saw you in the First Apostle Hall, using your own body to block the dark golden pillar of light of Kahn's true form, exchanging your right hand for my three inches of life."
Wang Kai lowered his head, looking at his still-growing right hand, and remained silent.
"Your Dao Heart is the same as his," Jiang Chen said. "Therefore, you don't need to deliberately cultivate the Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life. It will naturally integrate into your Chaos Spiritual Root and become a part of you."
He started walking towards the camp. After a few steps, he stopped and didn't look back.
"Wang Kai, from today onwards, you are not only among the first batch of students at Qingyun Academy, but also the successor of the Immortal Emperor of Life."
Wang Kai stood there, watching Jiang Chen's figure disappear into the camp lights. He looked down at the emerald green line on his palm, feeling it slowly flowing through his body.
He felt something spreading from the lines on his palm throughout his body.
It's warmth. It's the warmth of a March breeze brushing against your cheek, the warmth of your mother pressing her hand on your forehead when you were sick as a child, and the warmth of Brother Chen saying "Your sword is still here" on the ninety-ninth floor of the First Apostle Hall.
The Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life took root within his body.
Shen Qingxue sat on a folding chair outside the medical tent, her right arm wrapped in thick bandages. Icy blue spiritual energy flowed slowly beneath the bandages, repairing the torn muscles and blood vessels layer by layer. Bing Li sat beside her, her long silver-white hair cascading over her shoulders; her face was still pale, but much better than before.
"Your right arm needs at least a week of rest." Bing Li's voice was as cold as ever, but a few degrees softer than usual. "Ice Profound Power can accelerate the repair of muscles and blood vessels, but it is not very efficient at repairing bones and nerves. Do not engage in high-intensity combat with your right fist for a week."
Shen Qingxue looked down at the bandage wrapped around her right arm and remained silent for a moment.
"A week." She repeated the word softly. "Will Kahn come back in a week?"
Bingli was silent for a moment. Then she spoke, her voice still cold, but with a softness that Shen Qingxue had never heard before.
"No. Kahn's true form was repelled by Senior Brother Chen's six-colored pillar of light and retreated back to the depths of the void's origin. He was injured and needs time to recover. Maybe a year, maybe ten years, maybe a hundred years."
"One hundred years." Shen Qingxue raised her head, looked at the stars in the night sky, and smiled slightly. "One hundred years is enough for me to reach the peak of body cultivation."
Bing Li looked at her, at this girl who, just three months ago, had stood on the walls of the capital city with the determination to die amidst the ice flower storm, at the layer of icy mystic power slowly flowing beneath the bandage wrapped around her right arm, and at the faint, stubborn smile on her lips.
"That's enough," Bingli said. "One hundred years is enough."
In the distance, on the other side of the camp, Zhao Tieshan sat on a rock, the remains of his left prosthetic leg lying at his feet. His right fist was wrapped in new bandages, beneath which was new, rosy skin.
Zhang Ziming sat opposite him, the cracks in his glasses gleaming finely in the moonlight. His earthen wall, having lost the life-giving power after the collapse of the Apostle's Hall, had completely crumbled, but the debris had formed a thick, loose layer of soil beneath his feet. He looked down at the soil, at the few tender green shoots sprouting from it, and a slight smile played on his lips.
"Brother Zhao," he said, his voice hoarse but filled with barely suppressed excitement, "my earthen wall has sprouted grass in the Apostle's Hall."
Zhao Tieshan looked down at the soil beneath his feet, watching the few tender green grass shoots sway gently in the moonlight.
"That's not grass growing from your earthen wall." Zhao Tieshan's voice was hoarse and steady, carrying a calmness unique to veterans who had experienced too many life and death. "It's the Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life. It awakened in the Apostle Hall, using your earthen wall as a seedbed, and sowing the seeds of life into the cracks of the void's origin."
"How long can these plants live?"
Zhao Tieshan was silent for a moment. Then he raised his head and looked at the darkness in the night sky filled with stars.
"Perhaps a year, perhaps ten years, perhaps a hundred years. But as long as the Origin of the Void remains, these grasses will always exist. Because the Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life has already merged with the Origin of the Void. From today onwards, the Origin of the Void is no longer the source of the Apostles' power. It is the source of life."
Zhang Ziming looked down at the soil beneath his feet, and at the few tender green grass sprouts still swaying gently in the moonlight. He felt his eyes welling up with tears.
He took off his glasses, wiped the cracks and dust off the lenses with his sleeve, then put them back on and stared at the few grass sprouts for a long time.
"Brother Zhao," he spoke, his voice slightly choked, but a smile played on his lips, "do you think these grasses might grow into a vast grassland?"
Zhao Tieshan looked at him, at this boy who was kneeling on the ground on the 90th floor of the Apostle Hall, his hands pressed against the void, using earth elemental spiritual power to condense an earth wall, and withstanding the impact of the dark golden light pillar for a full three breaths. He looked at his bloodshot but still bright eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
"Yes," Zhao Tieshan said. "As long as someone waters it, fertilizes it, and guards it, it will."
He stood up, the bandage on his right fist gleaming coldly white in the moonlight. He walked up to Zhang Ziming, reached out his right hand, and pulled the boy, who was still sitting on the ground, up from the soil.
"Let's go," Zhao Tieshan said. "Back to camp. We have class tomorrow."
Zhang Ziming stood up, patted the dirt off his bottom, bent down and pulled a grass sprout from the ground. He carefully wrapped its roots with earth-elemental spiritual power and then put it in his pocket.
"Brother Zhao, I want to take this herb back to Qingyun Academy."
Zhao Tieshan looked at the sprout in his arms, watching the tender green leaves gleam slightly in the moonlight, and fell silent for a moment.
"Take it back," he said, "and plant it right in the middle of the schoolyard."