The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 264: The Imperial Ruler of the "Heavenly Sound Pavilion" Like Him

Former master and disciple had eventually become bitter enemies.

It was a battle at the pinnacle of their power.

In the end, Chu Wanning, with his weak spirit core, was no match for Mo Ran's ferocious might that could devour mountains and rivers.

"Don't struggle in vain anymore," the young demon jeered, growing bolder with each clash. His grin was wicked as he crossed blades with Huai Sha.

Golden light flickered on and off.

Yet, the eerie green flames illuminated the eyes of both master and disciple.

Mo Ran glanced at Chu Wanning's pale face and then shifted his gaze to Huai Sha's dwindling spiritual energy, mockery dancing in his eyes.

"You've run out of spirit power. If you continue fighting me, your spirit core will shatter. Master, you're so proud; you'd never be content with being an ordinary human, right?"

Chu Wanning gritted his teeth without responding. His thin lips were devoid of color.

In the end, Huai Sha's radiance faded entirely, and Mo Ran knew that Chu Wanning's spiritual energy was depleted. He laughed wildly, his voice echoing like a vulture's cry.

"What else do you have to resist me with, Wanning, Yu Heng... my exalted Master?"

Chu Wanning propped himself up on his sword, his white robes now stained with blotches of blood.

He lifted his gaze. At that moment, Mo Ran's hatred was so intense that he could only see the determination in Chu Wanning's eyes, but not the sorrow buried deep beneath it.

Years later, when the Heaven-Stepping Lord took his own life with a deadly poison, he unknowingly recalled this first exhilarating battle of his life.

He couldn't help but think that Chu Wanning had indeed been determined to die in order to stop him back then...

Putting others before oneself is the highest virtue, but ultimately, it leads to one's downfall.

He had once called Chu Wanning a despicable man who only spoke well but did nothing.

Yet, Chu Wanning truly did as he said.

"Think of kindness," he had said.

His master said,

"Do not harbor malice."

A flash of golden light illuminated the scene.

Before Mo Ran could fully grasp the serene expression in Wanning's eyes, the latter's palm burst with radiant light. This Supreme Immortal of the Northern Dipper, this man without kin or friends in the cultivation world, chose to sacrifice his own spirit nucleus to summon the three divine weapons once more.

Nine Songs, Heaven's Inquiry, Huai Sha.

How much of Qu Yuan's proud spirit did Chu Wanning inherit?

The vast army that Mo Ran had created was ultimately suppressed by Wanning's spirit nucleus, the black and white pieces crumbling into dust under the glow of the divine weapons.

It was strange, but Mo Ran stood right across from Chu Wanning, mere inches away. He watched this desperate, exhausted figure, yet didn't intervene.

He observed with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

He wanted to know just how far this fickle-hearted man would go for his so-called "world."

He watched, unflinching.

He witnessed Chu Wanning exhaust the last vestige of his spiritual energy.

The surging tides of the river calmed, and the flock of birds that had blotted out the sun dispersed.

One by one, the controlled living regained their consciousness, while the controlled deceased closed their eyes once more, returning to eternal slumber beneath the earth.

Mo Ran watched it all unfold.

He saw the spirit core of the Venerated Immortal of the Northern Dipper shatter, Chu Wanning's radiance fade, and his own master kneeling before him, ultimately collapsing into the dust.

At that moment, Mo Ran's expression was muted, his face turned slightly aside as he faintly recalled his mother's whispered words on her deathbed. That kind-hearted woman had stroked his cheek and told him, "Seek to repay kindness, not to avenge."

After so many years, he heard those familiar words again. Before Chu Wanning offered his own spirit core, he said to Mo Ran, "Think kindly, do not harbor malice."

Yet, he failed to do so.

His heart seemed to harbor an endless wellspring of resentment, and only blood could grant him brief respite.

He razed the Peak of Life and Death, slaughtered the Confucian Wind Sect, killed millions of cultivators, including his uncle and aunt, and turned the Heavenly Lake red with blood, leaving a mountain littered with bones.

In the end, the rebel forces surrounded the mountain, and he met his end before the tower.

All these deeds were committed by him, and those heinous crimes bore his fingerprints. In the horrifying tragedies, he was the creditor, his hands stained with the blood of a thousand, while the precious chess game claimed the lives of ten thousand.

It was him.

Mo Ran felt dizzy, gasping for breath under the overwhelming pressure.

Suddenly, he heard a muffled groan that pulled him out of his memories. He snapped back to reality, seeing Mu Yanli's shoulder pierced by a chess piece, her blood splattering across his face.

"Master!"

"Watch out, Master!"

The members of the Heavenly Sound Pavilion rushed forward to shield Mu Yanli.

Mu Yanli caught her breath, gritting her teeth. "It's nothing."

The precious chess piece before her elegantly twirled its long sword in a flourish, then, with all eyes on it, it gracefully knelt before Mo Ran. Its masked face lowered as it said, "I failed to protect and caused trouble for my master. I deserve death a thousand times over."

Everyone was shocked.

"It's a chess piece under Mo Ran's control!"

"He called him 'master'!"

Mo Ran said, "N-No... That's not right..."

But who would believe him?

Who could possibly believe him!

Mo Ran shook his head in despair and retreated, staring at the faces filled with hatred and suspicion.

It wasn't like that.

He looked towards Xue Meng, but he was too far away and hadn't noticed the commotion. Then, he saw Madame Wang and Xue Zhengyong.

Both of them witnessed this transformation, their expressions turning extremely grim.

Mo Ran's lips quivered as he tried to say something, but he found himself at a loss for words to defend himself.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a swarm of chess pieces surging from behind Madame Wang. In the blink of an eye, he shouted, "Auntie! Be careful!"

This sudden outburst startled everyone, causing Xue Zhengyong to snap back to his senses. However, with chess pieces surrounding him on all sides, it was already too late for him to react.

"Auntie!"

"Mother!"

"Clang!"

The sharp ring of metal echoed as Jiang Xi emerged from the crowd, his Snow Phoenix Sword radiating an intimidating aura, forcing back the precious chess piece that was closing in on Madame Wang by several yards.

Madame Wang was astonished. "Junior Apprentice Brother..."

"..." Jiang Xi turned to glance at her coldly, uttering only a single phrase, "Open your eyes."

At that moment, Master Xuanjing suddenly noticed a massive, inky cloud looming on the horizon, heading straight for the Peak of Life and Death. He couldn't see clearly at first, but when he finally did, he found it hard to believe.

It wasn't until many others had also noticed the surging black clouds that he finally confirmed it, his beard quivering as he shouted, "How is this possible?! How many chess pieces are there?!!"

The black chess pieces resembled an endless, surging tide.

Some were corpses, while others were still alive. All of them had been burnt by some kind of spell, their faces melted and tongues removed, rendering them unable to speak even if their consciousness returned.

Behind them, there were birds and beasts manipulated by the Precious Chess Pieces, from canines to dragons and snakes.

"Mo Weiyu!!"

"Mo Ran..."

When these people turned back to glare at him, fear now outweighed their anger. Some who had been approaching him even took a few steps back uncontrollably.

"Madman... Mo Ran, have you gone mad...?"

"How many chess pieces have you refined?!"

Mo Ran opened his mouth.

He wanted to say, "No, it wasn't me."

But if not him, then who else could it have been?

The Door of Time and Life once again swung open, and Heaven-Stepping Lord descended upon the world with an army of a million soldiers.

What difference was there between him and Heaven-Stepping Lord?

They shared the same memories, wielded the same spells. The precious chess game that Heaven-Stepping Lord mastered, Grandmaster Mo was equally proficient in. The chess pieces created by Heaven-Stepping Lord would, without specific orders, recognize Grandmaster Mo as their master.

Thus, he had killed kin and razed cities, delving into forbidden arts.

An army of a thousand, turned into soldiers with a scattering of beans.

Overturning the mortal world, regarding all beings as mere fodder.

All these deeds were his own doing; no one had wronged him.

An endless barrage of chess pieces pressed closer, resembling black ink rapidly spreading across a sheet of paper, advancing relentlessly.

Someone cried out in panic, "What should we do?!"

Mu Yanli, however, raged, "Mo Ran! What more excuses do you have?! This is all your doing! I only regret that the Heavenly Sound Pavilion didn't intervene sooner and put an end to you!"

Dark clouds blotted out the sun, casting the world into gloom.

The mountain echoed with the mournful winds and the stench of death, as these tens of thousands of zombie chess pieces hung above like colossal chimes ready to crash down at any moment, shattering the lands and oceans, treating human lives as mere ants.

Mo Ran's pupils constricted as he gazed at the sky.

None wished to surrender. With swords or bare hands, they engaged the chess pieces in fierce combat. This battle was far more intense than before, with blood and screams echoing everywhere.

Heads rolled.

Guts spilled.

Yet, the horizon continued to pour forth an unceasing tide of black, an endless, chilling spectacle.

Amidst the chaos, Xue Meng's voice echoed from afar: "Dad! Mom!"

Mo Ran swiftly turned his head to see Xue Zhengyong and Jiang Xi covered in blood, the vibrant red stains so abundant that it was impossible to discern whether the injuries were their own or from enemies they had slain.

Struggling through the crowd, Xue Meng fought valiantly towards his parents, but he was outnumbered.

"Xue Meng—!"

Mo Ran attempted to rush to his aid, but Xue Meng appeared conflicted upon seeing him, actively avoiding him.

Suddenly, a Confucian Wind Sect loyalist lunged with a sword, piercing Xue Meng's shoulder, causing blood to gush out and soak through his light armor.

"Xue Meng... Xue Meng!"

Mo Ran anxiously pushed his way towards him, but the chaotic battlefield was congested, and they were too far apart—he couldn't reach him... he couldn't reach him...

After being wounded, more adversaries swarmed towards Xue Meng, and soon, the young man's figure vanished amidst the frenzied onslaught of the Jumang puppets.

"Mon'er!"

"Mon-er!"

A shrill and anguished cry echoed.

It was the combined voice of Madame Wang and Xue Zhengyong.

Mo Ran had never heard such a shattering scream that seemed to tear his very bones apart.

His scalp prickled with discomfort.

Xue Meng...

No.

This couldn't be how it ended.

There must be a way! There had to be!

Since Hua Binan had summoned him and orchestrated this scene, it couldn't simply be to witness the destruction of Death Peak. What did Hua Binan want him to do?

What was he supposed to do? ! What on earth did Hua Binan want from him? !! For what purpose was this "surprise"? How could he make it all stop? How could he be released from this torment...

Suddenly, it dawned on him. He understood.

Mo Ran froze for a moment, then his heart began to race.

He finally got it.

Hua Binan was ruthless, not only seeking to ruin his reputation but also leaving him with no way back... He grasped the truth.

Nan Gongsi had done something similar on Dragon Mountain.

In his previous life, Chu Wanning had done it during their confrontation.

Though he was now devoid of spiritual energy, his spirit core remained intact.

He could sense the radiance flowing within his chest, pulsating in rhythm with his heartbeat.

The haunting, maniacal sneer of the Heaven-Stepping Lord from his past life seemed to resurface before his eyes---

"You've already lost your spiritual energy. If you continue fighting me, your spirit core will shatter. Master, you're so proud; even in death, you wouldn't be content with being just an ordinary person, would you?"

He knew what he had to do.

With a warmth in his eyes amidst the turmoil of war, Mo Ran's heart suddenly found peace.

In his previous life, Chu Wanning had sacrificed himself for his beliefs, personally showing him that putting others first and oneself last was not an empty phrase.

He could almost see the pale face of Chu Wanning before he had depleted his spirit core.

Back then, his master, believing he was about to die, had said to Mo Ran:

"Practice kindness, not evil."

The earth rumbled beneath them.

"What's happening?"

"What's happening?"

Everyone was stunned, dodging while searching for the source of the commotion.

In truth, there was no need to search.

Where Mo Ran stood, a sudden burst of blazing light illuminated the area — it wasn't actual flames, but rather an intense spiritual current resulting from the overexhaustion of his fire-type spirit core, engulfing Mo Ran entirely.

Mo Weiyu.

The Immortal Trampler from Mo Ran's previous life, now a renowned grandmaster.

He... in the face of this great calamity, he had... he had actually... stopped it all...

By forcefully shattering his own spirit core!

Just like Nan Gongsi and Chu Wanning, the destruction of his spirit core granted him a sudden surge of his maximum spiritual power. His eyes were tinged red with flames, yet his handsome, straight-featured face betrayed little sign of pain.

In this moment, who was he?

Could he possibly stop being the universally despised Heaven-Stepping Lord?

If possible, he would also like to be Chu Wanning.

The spirit core gradually shatters and melts within the chest cavity.

The flames burned ever brighter, piercing through the clouds and illuminating the heavens.

In that instant, he suddenly felt that those pure and pristine dreams from his childhood had gently descended back into the depths of his heart. Amidst the flames, he saw Duan Yihan, and he saw Chu Wanning.

Observing her in the woodshed, gently caressing his cheek as she said, "Choose to repay kindness, not hold onto grudges."

Remembering the young man outside Wubai Temple, carefully offering him rice porridge to drink.

"Take it slow, there's more if you need it..."

In both his lifetimes, he had always aspired to be a virtuous person.

He hadn't succeeded in his previous life.

Looking back on his life, he had been plagued with sorrow for nearly a decade. He didn't know how to make amends; no matter how he tormented himself day and night, he could find no solution. If he were to tell others about his past dream of sheltering all the world's destitute scholars, who would believe him? There would only be ridicule, insults, and mockery. Because he was Mo Weiyu, the Immortal Trampling God. He had missed his chance, he had taken lives, so no matter what he did to atone, it would be futile. It would all be wrong. No one could forgive him. Perhaps it was only in this blaze, only in the moment when his spirit core shattered, as he followed Wanning's path in his previous life and sacrificed himself for his belief, that he could find the slightest bit of solace. Only then could he cautiously utter:

"If possible, I wish to be Chu Wanning."

Please, when you hear this desire of mine, don't laugh at me.

Don't disdain me.

I'm foolish, and for a long time, I had no one to accompany me.

I wandered through two lifetimes, straying down the wrong path for twenty years.

How clumsy I was, not knowing why I eventually ended up in an endless darkness, not understanding how things could have turned out this way. Looking back, it's all wrong.

I can't find my mother anymore.

Nor my Master.

Please, hell is too cold.

Can you let me go back...?

I long to return home.