pjbooks Chapter 155 Demon God?
Chapter 155 Demon God?
Three days after the end of the Apostle Realm War, Qingyun Academy welcomed its first group of visitors from afar.
Jiang Chen stood behind the window of the dispatch room on the second floor of the factory, looking at the long queue that had re-formed outside the main gate of the academy, a freshly brewed cup of hot coffee in his hand. The rose bush on the windowsill had grown its seventh leaf, the leaves turning from light green to dark green, and the stem was also thicker than before. It gleamed with a warm luster in the morning light.
"Brother Chen." Wang Kai ran up the stairs, holding a thick list. "Old Chen just sent it. The results of the spiritual root tests for the second batch of students are out. The number of applicants worldwide has exceeded 30 million, and more than 50,000 people have spiritual roots. The General Administration has suggested that the second batch of enrollment be expanded from 1,000 to 5,000. Qingyun Academy has 30,000 acres of land, so 5,000 people should be enough."
Jiang Chen took the list and turned to the first page. It was densely packed with names, ages, nationalities, spiritual root attributes, and spiritual root purity. The first name listed was "Lin Wan'er," eighteen years old, from the capital of the Dragon Kingdom, possessing a Heavenly Spiritual Root, with a purity of Grade A. In the remarks section was a line of handwritten small print—"Her father, Lin Zhenting, is the current head of the Lin family in Jiangzhou. He apologized to Dean Jiang Chen after the bombing at the Emperor Hotel."
Jiang Chen's gaze lingered on that line of small print for a moment before turning the page.
"Five thousand people. The spiritual energy concentration of the Spirit Gathering Array needs to be increased from 15% to 25%. The Primordial Sword Intent will automatically adjust the array parameters, so we don't need to worry about it." He handed the list back to Wang Kai, picked up his coffee and took a sip. "Your current task is to stabilize the Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor, not to be the Dean of Studies. Leave the list to Elder Chen."
Wang Kai took the list and nodded, but didn't leave immediately. He stood at the door of the dispatch room, his right hand unconsciously pressed against his chest—there, a verdant light was slowly flowing beneath his skin. The Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life had awakened within him for three days, and during those three days, he dreamt every night of fragments of the war between immortals and demons thirty thousand years ago. The sky was filled with the phantom images of immortal emperors, the overwhelming fragments of the demon ancestor's primordial spirit, and that verdant shield that stretched across the heavens and earth—the life shield that the Immortal Emperor of Life had erected with his own Dao Fruit, covering the entire battlefield.
"Brother Chen," Wang Kai spoke, his voice a little hoarse, "I dreamt of that great battle again last night. The Immortal Emperor Sheng Sheng shattered his shield the moment it broke, smashing his Dao Fruit into countless fragments, scattering them to every corner of the universe. He said, 'The power of 'life' shouldn't belong only to the Immortal Emperor; it should belong to every life.' He looked up at Jiang Chen, 'Brother Chen, the Immortal Emperor Sheng Sheng's Dao Fruit awakened within me, not because I'm so strong, but because I'm human. It's because every human being possesses the power of 'life.'"
Jiang Chen put down his coffee cup, turned around, and looked at Wang Kai.
"That's right," he said. "The Immortal Emperor of Life chose you for his Dao Fruit not because of your Chaotic Spiritual Root, but because of your Dao Heart. His Dao Heart is to protect life, and so is yours." He walked up to Wang Kai and gently tapped his chest. A wisp of emerald light emerged from Wang Kai's chest, condensing at Jiang Chen's fingertip into a tiny, emerald-green light core the size of a grain of rice. Fine patterns flowed across the surface of the light core, their rhythm resonating with Wang Kai's heartbeat.
"From today onward, you don't need to deliberately cultivate the Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life. You just need to be yourself. Protect those you want to protect, and safeguard what you want to safeguard. The Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life will grow on its own."
Wang Kai looked down at the emerald green light core on Jiang Chen's fingertip, feeling his heart pounding, feeling the emerald green light flowing through his body, and feeling the pure white golden core in his dantian resonating with the emerald green light.
"Brother Chen, I understand."
Seven days after the end of the Apostle Realm War, the Abyss Rift became active again on the western border of the Dragon Kingdom.
This time, it wasn't a demon god of Balsaron's caliber, but rather the leader of the Seven Pillars of the Abyss—Nesario.
At three in the morning, the alarms at Liangzhou Fortress sounded simultaneously. Zhao Tiecheng awoke with a start, grabbed his sword, rushed out of the barracks, and stood on the city wall, gazing at the dark red chasm stretching across the Gobi Desert in the distance. The chasm was three times wider than when Balsalon descended three months ago, and the dark red light surging from its depths stained the entire sky blood-red. At the edge of the chasm, the golden sword intent left behind by Jiang Chen was still stubbornly operating, but its golden light was visibly dimming under the erosion of the dark red light.
"Commander!" Adjutant Chen Yan's voice came through the communicator, sharp and distorted, "Large-scale energy fluctuations detected deep within the rift! Energy level—out of measurement range! Repeat, out of measurement range!"
Zhao Tiecheng's hand gripping his battle sword trembled slightly. Three months ago, Jiang Chen shattered Balsaron's abyssal true form here with a single sword strike, sealing the rift with his primordial sword intent. Three months later, the rift has reactivated, and is stronger, wider, and deeper than before. This time, it's not a demon god of Balsaron's caliber. It's the leader of the Seven Pillars of the Abyss, the Eternal Darkness—Nesario.
"Headquarters!" Zhao Tiecheng roared into the communicator, "Liangzhou Fortress requests emergency reinforcements! Abyss Rift—"
Before the words were finished, a hand reached out from the crack.
The hand was so enormous it blotted out the sky, each of its five fingers as thick as the walls of Liangzhou Fortress. Its surface was covered in dark red scales, from which surged black, magma-like chaotic power. The hand pressed against the edge of the fissure, tearing it open into an even larger gap. Then, Neltharion's head emerged from the fissure.
It was the head of a half-human, half-dragon. The left half of the face belonged to an old man in his seventies, with skin as white as tree bark and deep-set eyes containing a constantly rotating dark red eyeball. The right half of the face was the skull of an ancient black dragon, with horns curving backward from its forehead. The surface of the horns was covered with dense ancient runes, each of which was slowly wriggling, crawling from the base of the horn to the tip, and then back to the base, like a living creature.
"Humans," Nesario spoke, his voice aged and calm, yet it shook the entire Gobi Desert. "Three months ago, Balsalon's Abyssal True Form was shattered here by your Celestial Emperor's sword. Three months later, I have come in person, not to avenge him."
His dark red eyes slowly rotated, sweeping over the walls of Liangzhou Fortress, over the trembling soldiers on the walls who held weapons but did not retreat, and over the golden sword intent in the distance that was being eroded by the dark red light.
"I've come to confirm something. Your Celestial Emperor suffered severe injuries in the First Apostle Hall."
He raised his right hand, fingers spread, palm facing the city wall of Liangzhou Fortress. In his palm, a dark red light was gathering, its temperature so high that even the air seemed to be burning, so high that the defensive barrier on the city wall began to crumble from its edges the moment it came into contact with the light.
"If he's still alive, I'll back down. If he's already dead—"
He clenched his fists tightly. A dark red beam of light shot out from his palm, hurtling towards the walls of the Liangzhou Fortress.
The beam of light was blocked by a sword a hundred feet away from the city wall.
The sword was entirely silver-white, its blade gleaming with a chilling light, and a faint scratch marked its hilt. It flew in from the eastern horizon, moving so fast that even Neltharion's dark red eyes could only catch a fleeting afterimage.
Ye Wuhen leaped off the sword. The silver-white longsword drew a graceful arc in the air, landing precisely at his waist. He stood on the city wall of Liangzhou Fortress, his right hand gripping the hilt, his thumb habitually tracing the shallow scratch on the guard. His expression was calm, but his grip on the sword was tighter than usual.
"Nesario." Ye Wuhen spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly piercing through the hum of the dark red light and the howling wind on the Gobi Desert, "Three months ago, you used Absolute Stillness to lock Jiang Chen in place for three breaths on the hundredth floor of the First Apostle's Hall. After three breaths, he broke your stillness and pierced Kahn's heart with the Primordial Sword."
He took a step forward, and a ring of cracks appeared in the bricks of the city wall beneath his feet.
"Today, you took advantage of his injury and launched a surprise attack on Liangzhou Fortress. Do you think I'll let you pass?"
Nesario looked at Ye Wuhen, at the silver-white longsword in the hands of this Dragon Kingdom Sword Saint, and at the shallow scratch on the hilt—a mark left by the Primordial Immortal Emperor when he was young practicing swordsmanship. Thirty thousand years had passed, and that sword was still there. The person who wielded it had changed from the Primordial Immortal Emperor to Ye Wuhen, but the sword intent had never been extinguished.
"Ye Wuhen." Nesario's voice was old and calm, but with a hint of seriousness he himself didn't realize. "Your sword is indeed formidable. But how long can your sword withstand my attacks?"
Ye Wuhen did not answer. He drew his silver-white longsword, the tip pointing at Nesario's dark red eyeball between his eyebrows.
"I'll block your way until you back off."
He drew his sword.