INE Chapter 123: Returning to Dust

After leaving Phoenix Terrace, Ji Rong flew on her sword for a long while before finally reaching the Divine Sect.

Passing through the Wutong Forest on the mountain peak of the Divine Sect, she arrived at the entrance of the Sect’s main hall.

This area was the Sect's plaza, usually deserted except during major gatherings.

Looking around, only disciples who had completed their Sect tasks were sweeping the grounds with brooms.

The center of the plaza was vast, with several statues standing tall.

One of the statues resembled Feng He quite a bit, but the other statue was strikingly different in appearance.

Ji Rong glanced casually at the statues, noticing the inscription beneath one of them:
"Ninth Sect Master of the Divine Sect, Feng Lan."

She didn't care much about who Feng Lan was, and with the Qingshuang Sword in hand, she walked directly toward the door.

The disciples, seeing Ji Rong, did not immediately recognize her. However, when they saw the sword in her hand, their expressions changed drastically.

This sword was known throughout the cultivation world.

The disciple bowed to Ji Rong and respectfully said, “Sword Saint, please wait a moment. I will inform Sect Master Feng.”

He understood that Ji Rong had come to find Feng He, not him.

In fact, Ji Rong’s only intention was to take Feng He’s sword, with no interest in troubling the young disciples or seeking revenge.

She nodded to the disciple and replied, “Thank you.”

In a flash, the young disciple returned.

He cupped his hands and said to Ji Rong, “Sword Saint, Sect Master Feng invites you in.”

Ji Rong nodded, and as the disciple pushed open the gates of the Divine Sect, she stepped inside.

In the courtyard of Feng He’s private residence, a peach tree had been planted. Its blossoms had already begun to wither.

Petals lay scattered on the soil, and in a few days, they would likely turn into flower mud.

Feng He himself stood at the end of the fallen petals, holding his sword.

Wearing a Daoist robe, his thin figure stood tall, and a fluffy yellow bird perched on his shoulder.

To be honest, Ji Rong was somewhat surprised.

After all, whether in the cultivation world or in games, Feng He had always been portrayed as stern and serious.

Yet, at this moment, a small yellow bird had approached him.

Surprisingly, Feng He didn’t seem angry, which suggested he might not be as unapproachable as the rumors suggested.

It wasn’t until Ji Rong reached the peach tree that Feng He slowly raised his hand and shooed the bird away.

The little bird chirped unhappily, flying to a branch and chattering non-stop.

When Feng He turned around, Ji Rong inexplicably felt that his expression had softened.

But as he fully turned and fixed his gaze on her, his expression became calm and impassive.

"Sword Saint, you’ve come." he said, his voice as calm as if he had expected her.

Feng He’s words were somewhat cryptic.

Ji Rong responded in kind, “I’ve come.”

"With Sword Saint’s arrival, I presume you’re confident in victory?"

Ji Rong nodded. “Yes.”

Feng He asked, “So, where would you like to fight?”

"Anywhere works."

Feng He held the Longyuan Sword and silently stared at Ji Rong.

After a moment, he finally asked, “Is Sword Saint really so confident?”

Ji Rong answered flatly, “I am indeed confident.”

If this conversation had been with an ordinary person, it would have long ended.

But Feng He was clearly no ordinary person.

Feng He had been raised in the Divine Sect, his heart set on the Dao.

He followed the heavenly path with a clear mind, and so he always believed that there was nothing that could stand in his way.

Because he trusted that as long as his heart was steadfast in the Dao, no challenge could shake him.

Until the day Mei Lixue died.

Feng He looked at Mei Lixue’s body and recalled a long-forgotten event.

A thousand years ago, the heavenly Dao had entrusted two tokens to the Divine Sect, making them its emissaries.

The entire Sect believed that this was a sign of the heavens blessing the Divine Sect, and they were certain that the heavens would protect them forever.

It was then that the Divine Sect established the High Priest and the Saintess.

The High Priest was responsible for guarding the crystal ball given by the heavens, while the Saintess observed the stars and controlled a dark bronze pocket watch.

Afterward, the heavenly Dao bestowed even more abundant spiritual energy on the Divine Sect, and they became one of the four great sects.

But on that day, Mei Lixue died.

As a loyal follower of the heavenly Dao and its emissary, she perished.

Feng He’s Dao heart wavered.

His heart was not shaken by Mei Lixue’s death, he was steadfast in the Dao. Rather, it was the heavenly Dao itself that shook him.

He began to question: If the heavenly Dao truly existed, how could it allow its followers to be killed?

Feng He pondered this possibility for a long time and suddenly had a thought:

Perhaps, to the heavenly Dao, the Divine Sect wasn’t so important after all? Was it simply a temporary pawn serving the heavens' interests?

He began to doubt the very heavenly Dao he had believed in all his life.

Because of this, despite having broken through to the state of absolute will, Feng He knew he could not defeat Ji Rong.

His Dao heart was disturbed, and thus, his swordsmanship faltered.

However, to avoid a fight was cowardice.

So, Feng He drew the Longyuan Sword and calmly said to Ji Rong, “Please, Sword Saint, teach me.”

Ji Rong shook her head. “I’m not here to teach. But if you lose, please leave the Longyuan Sword with me.”

Feng He stared at the Longyuan Sword in his hand and nodded.

With that, Ji Rong unsheathed the Qingshuang Sword.

She intended to defeat Feng He in the blink of an eye, so she unleashed three strikes.

But those three strikes were actually one move.

It was called “The Three Paths of Forgetting the River." which involved three distinct stages.

The Three Paths: the Path of Fire, the Path of Blood, and the Path of the Blade.

They were also known as the Three Evil Paths: Hell, the Beast Path, and the Hungry Ghost Path.

As the black flames erupted from Qingshuang Sword, Feng He frowned. “Sword Saint, why are you using demonic cultivator’s sword techniques… Have you fallen into darkness?”

Thousands of red lotus petals bloomed around Ji Rong.

The petals were enchanting and exquisite, as though formed by countless drops of blood and tears.

Ji Rong held her sword, stepping on the red lotus beneath her feet.

The black flames covering the sword's tip burned fiercely like infernal flames, exuding a menacing aura.

The eleventh move of the "Heavenly Demon Scroll", Three Paths, Forgotten River.

Even with the demonic sword technique unleashed, Ji Rong's gaze remained as calm as water.

She looked at Feng He but did not directly answer his question. Instead, she spoke of another matter: "Sect Leader Feng, I once had a disciple. She was gifted, kind-hearted by nature. Yet, she eventually became the leader of the demon cultivators, feared by all and cursed as a sinner beyond redemption."

"But, Sect Leader Feng, do you know? At the moment of her death, the spiritual power flickering at her fingertips was still a clear white flame."

Ji Rong spoke softly, "It was then that I understood. In truth, there is no clear boundary between the demonic path and the Dao. Often, it's only a matter of one thought."

"Some cultivators of the Dao fall into evil thoughts and become demons. Some demonic cultivators commit countless sins but still follow the path of the Dao."

"After that, I realized, my disciple did not follow the heavenly Dao or the righteous path, but her own path."

"Now, I follow my heart: I do not commit killings, nor do I harm others. Even when using the sword technique of a demon cultivator, what wrong have I done?"

Feng He fell silent.

Before delivering the final blow, Ji Rong calmly said to Feng He: "Sect Leader Feng, I have not fallen into demonic ways."

"I am simply thinking, since my disciple Chu Changli could play the 'Jinshi' of the Heavenly Sound Division, even if I were to go astray and fall into demonic ways today, I would still use the 'Three Paths, Forgotten River' from the 'Heavenly Demon Scroll.'"

"Because I wish to tell you that good and evil are not so clearly defined."

With that, Ji Rong struck the final blow.

In that instant, the red lotus fire reflected in Feng He's eyes, burning fiercely like a blooming flower in full glory.

The flames licked at his sleeves, yet his expression remained unchanged. It was as if he was stunned, even failing to unsheathe his sword to block the strike.

Seeing this, Ji Rong furrowed her brow.

A slight change appeared in her expression as she asked, "Why don't you block it?"

The infernal flames were like blood and like blades.

The sword shadows cut across Feng He's body, but he neither dodged nor intended to avoid.

Feng He's face had already been scorched black by the flames, but holding the Longyuan Sword, his voice remained resolute: "I do not dodge, for I have not drawn my sword for three years. I am no longer worthy to hold this sword."

"My heart is set on the Dao, and I follow the heavenly Dao. Now, with my heart shaken, I can no longer make progress in the sword path. To me, it is no different from death."

"Now defeated beneath the sword of a stronger opponent, I, Feng, die without regret."

Ji Rong was taken aback, for she only intended to take his sword, not to kill him.

But by the time she retracted her strike, it was too late.

Once the infernal flames had consumed everything, only ashes remain.

The ashes scattered across the ground, like dust about to be swept away by a broom.

A gentle breeze blew, and the dust swirled.

A yellow sparrow chirped from a branch, then vanished into the courtyard bathed in golden light.

Ji Rong lowered her gaze, staring at the Longyuan Sword lying on the stone tiles.

When everything seemed within her grasp, she found herself somewhat lost.

Feng He, the strongest cultivator in the immortal realm, top of the rankings, had died just like that.

It felt as though she had passed the level without spending a single coin.

But in her heart, Ji Rong did not feel joy. Instead, she felt a sense of sorrow.

For Feng He did not fail to block her strike, he simply chose not to.

Feng He valued his Dao more than life itself.

Thus, he had not lost to her, but to the Dao, to himself.

Ji Rong looked up at the heavens, suddenly filled with anger.

She never wanted to come here, yet by some invisible force, she had been brought to this world.

Now, she wanted to defeat Feng He, but the heavenly Dao had defeated him for her, and even killed him in the process.

It was as if the Dao could see through everyone, yet at the same time, it seemed to be toying with everyone.

"So, was everyone arranged by you?"

Ji Rong looked at the sky and asked this question.

The white clouds drifted lazily, the heavens vast and distant.

No one answered.

Just then, an electronic voice rang out:

【Please, player, collect the final divine sword, Longyuan.】

The final one?

Ji Rong frowned. "Aren't there five divine swords? Why are you saying this is the last one?"

The system did not respond and simply repeated its previous message.

【Please, player, collect the Longyuan Sword to complete the ultimate task.】

Hearing the mention of the ultimate task, Ji Rong stepped forward and grasped the Longyuan Sword.

The moment her fingers touched the sword, a burning pain shot through her Blood Jade Bracelet.

She had reached the Absolute Intent Realm, and by all logic, such intense pain should not have been possible.

But the pain she felt now was a hundred times worse than the pain from the sword strike that Yan Haiyao had inflicted on her wrist.

She frowned and spat out blood. In a daze, the Longyuan Sword slipped from her hand and flew into the Blood Jade Bracelet.

As the four swords flew into the bracelet, it felt as though heavy snow had covered the mountaintop. In an instant, it melted into water, leaving nothing behind.

The world turned into an endless void, and all pain faded away.

When Ji Rong finally stood upright, she realized it wasn’t the bracelet that had been burning her, but rather the swords themselves that had tormented her.

But at this moment, she felt no pain at all.

She stretched out her hand and wiped her face, only to realize there were tears.

Yet, she did not feel sorrow.

Ji Rong gazed at the water droplets on her fingertips and suddenly remembered: she had once shed tears for someone.

The feeling back then, however, was now impossible to recall.

She opened her eyes, and the world seemed dull, devoid of any lingering heartbeat.

Staring at the falling peach blossoms, Ji Rong extended her hand and gently caught a petal.

She lowered her head, remembering the origins of the peach blossoms. Remembering the petals she had once sliced through on a moonlit night.

Back then, those peach blossoms had bloomed for her four disciples.

Ji Rong closed her eyes.

It was then she was truly certain: she had lost all feeling.

All things are born from dust and return to dust.

That is the return to dust.

When she opened her eyes again, Ji Rong found herself in the sea of consciousness.

The once tumultuous waves were gone, leaving only a vast emptiness.

In the center of the void, there was a chair.

Someone was sitting on the chair.

That person’s back was to Ji Rong, so she couldn’t make out their features.

【Thank you for your hard work.】

Ji Rong heard the system’s electronic voice, but her expression remained unchanged.

She had only one question: "Who are you?"

Upon hearing Ji Rong’s words, the person stood up from the chair, slowly turning to face her.

Standing so close, Ji Rong could finally see their face.

At that moment, having reached the Return to the Dust realm, her heart was not stirred, yet she still found it absurd.

For that person was someone she had never imagined. The one person she had trusted in another world.

Thoughts swirled in her mind, and Ji Rong gazed at that face, finally speaking in a calm voice: "Sister."