Across the surface of that dazzling, brilliant golden cocoon, countless arcane runes appeared and disappeared of their own accord. Within the cocoon, destruction and new life were proceeding in parallel.
Lang Jiuchuan was like a butterfly straining to break through its chrysalis — if she shed the old and emerged transformed, breaking free, she would emerge a butterfly reborn. If she could not break free, she would decay within the cocoon, reduced to dust.
Within this dragon vein space, from the moment she had set the dragon energy in motion, the immense power of that force swept through her meridians, flesh, and bones with brutal force. The physical body — already unable to contain her soul — began under this tremendous impact to fracture apart inch by inch, like porcelain, shattering and crumbling.
Lang Jiuchuan’s mind moved swiftly; her seal mudra shifted rapidly. She funneled the power accumulated over months of nourishing her divine soul into her physical body, pouring refined vitality into it — continuously restructuring, continuously reforging. And with every inch of flesh and blood that disintegrated and was reborn, the suffering it brought was soul-shattering and bone-rending: exquisite agony comparable to being dismembered alive, so intense that even her divine soul was wracked with acute pain.
To reforge a true body was not a simple matter of repair — it was total annihilation and reconstruction. It meant truly shedding every last remnant of the original owner’s old shell, and forging in its place a perfect new Dao body, truly her own, in perfect unity with her divine soul.
To speak of transcending tribulation by shattering body and severing soul — it was no exaggeration to say this was something of that order.
Even so, Lang Jiuchuan did not dare hold back a single fragment of herself. She poured her entire Dao resonance into it, reforging the crumbling physical form piece by piece, and anchoring her divine soul firmly within.
Then — an abrupt and violent change.
Hum!
A surging, ice-cold force of will crashed in without warning, slamming into her light cocoon, attempting to prevent her from drawing upon the dragon vein’s aura — and more than that, attempting to sever her line of life itself.
It was domineering and overwhelming, carrying supreme authority, mobilising the power of the dragon vein, pouring everything into grinding the cocoon to dust and extinguishing it without mercy.
Lang Jiuchuan felt her divine soul being compressed, nearly unable to breathe, the power within her turning sluggish and obstructed.
She was in the most fragile moment of the transition between old and new. If this force of will were allowed to grind and extinguish her unchecked, everything she had worked toward would be utterly ruined, and both her form and soul would be annihilated.
And this force of will…
She snapped her eyes open. Those bright clear eyes were entirely cold. This force of will was not unfamiliar — it was deeply, intimately familiar. It was the sealing power she had encountered locked within the Rong family head’s divine soul. It was that person.
That most familiar stranger.
Her master. The current Imperial Preceptor. Tantai Qing.
As her divine soul settled back into place and merged, Lang Jiuchuan’s memories returned to her, piece by piece. The memories most impossible to forget, the most deeply familiar, were bound up with this very force of will. Her own power had at one time carried an extension of it — how could she not know it?
A cold arc curved at the corner of Lang Jiuchuan’s lips. Master — what is there to be done? Our paths diverge, and thus our fellowship ends. From the moment you raised your hand against me, this bond between master and disciple was severed.
“I wish to live — and even if you are my master, you will not stop me!” She murmured the words softly. Her seal mudra shifted, and with the force of her soul-thought she set into motion the boiling dragon energy surrounding her. A clear, resonant cry rang out like a long, soaring call.
Hidden in a corner of the space, utterly soundless, Feng Ya silently withdrew his hand. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and cast a cold, indifferent glance upward at the void. He had not intervened, had not broken the rules — there was nothing that could be done to him.
He looked back at the cocoon, his lips pressed in a thin line, moving almost imperceptibly. If she could not hold on, he would chase her all the way into the Nine Nethers and tear her to pieces — after all the soul-power he had expended, for it all to come to nothing at the last moment was not something he could afford.
At Lang Jiuchuan’s shift of the seal mudra, a roar like the cry of a dragon resounded through the entire dragon vein space. It roused innumerable ancient dragons that seemed to have been slumbering for ages. Disturbed from their long sleep and made wrathful, the golden dragon-formed aura of the earth’s veins let out a roar and surged skyward from all directions — as wild as furious mother dragons, they lunged at that force of will, attacking the intruder that had so suddenly forced its way in.
More importantly, within that force of will itself there existed a trace of aura belonging to the vein’s power — and that trace was immediately identified by the dragon vein as that of a thief. If this intruder dared to force entry again, it would be counted as a provocation. To steal was shameful; thieves deserved to be killed.
This was the dragon vein defending its territory, resisting the intruder — repelling and striking down the encroachment.
The ancient dragons coiled and lunged, twisting toward that force of will, forcibly stripping away the trace of vein aura stored within it — for that trace had always belonged here.
A counter-strike. Without the slightest hesitation.
The moment the two forces collided, energy raged like a storm run amok, causing the space to tremble and shudder, and great quantities of stalactites snapped and fell.
Lang Jiuchuan let out a low sound, steadily bracing her physical form with the strength of her soul-thought. Her ten fingers shifted through seals at a flying pace.
On the other side of the void, the Imperial Preceptor likewise gave a muffled grunt. His divine soul erupted in sharp, stabbing pain. A thread of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. His eyes held a flash of genuine shock — where was she? Which dragon vein in Daan had he overlooked?
To be able to counter-strike against him with dragon vein aura, to damage his foundations — it could only be a place where the dragon energy was supremely strong and pure. Could it be… the core eye of the dragon vein itself?
A rapid flicker of calculation crossed the Imperial Preceptor’s eyes. He abandoned any further attempt at attack and shifted his seal, his mind surging forward — enduring the agonising pain of his counter-struck divine soul — swiftly tracing that thread of aura back to its source.
He needed to find this core.
He had ceased his attack. Lang Jiuchuan was momentarily taken aback; she was on the verge of pressing her advantage — but then, as though something occurred to her, she immediately drew back her offensive seal and forcibly severed the aura of this space from the outside. Then she gathered all her power into a single unified whole and drove her cultivation technique with full force.
If not now — when?
“The Dao body is complete by Heaven’s decree; divine soul and body become one — this is my true self!” She unleashed the words in a sharp, clear cry.
The dragon vein’s primordial essence pressed tight around the cocoon, grinding inward and permeating through it. Crack. Ptch.
The sounds of bone and flesh being compressed and fracturing rang out — and then that same force knit bone back to bone and regrew the flesh anew. Within Lang Jiuchuan’s sea of consciousness, scenes of past life and present lifetime flashed by at dizzying speed, like lantern-slides spinning in the wind: the confusion and reverence and dependent affection of the past; the betrayal and rupture and bitter struggle of later days; the loss of control over her own body; the agony of her soul scattering to nothing; the bewilderment of borrowing a corpse to return to life; the exhilaration of settling every score and grievance; and this moment —
About to break free of every shackle, and seize her own fate with her own hands — the iron resolve.
She was determined to defy Heaven and change her fate — to be reborn in fire.
A column of light of breathtaking brilliance descended from the sky and struck the cocoon, detonating in a white blaze as brilliant as the sun. Then a vast, indifferent voice seemed to descend from the highest Heavens through that column of light, resonating within the core of her divine soul:
“Foolish child — for what do you cultivate? For what do you seek rebirth? What are you, as a person? And what is the Dao?”
All the turmoil of the past swept through her mind in an instant and dissipated like smoke, leaving behind only stillness. Her Dao-heart ached faintly, and she answered: “I cultivate not for eternal life, but to attain the freedom to follow my own heart. I seek rebirth only to settle every cause and effect, to right every wrong, to offer consolation to the people. I am no foolish child — I am Jiuchuan. As the mountains halt and the rivers flow forward; as cranes cry out from the depths of the marshland — my path is this: though ten thousand stand against me, I will go forward.”
A reckoning of the Dao-heart, striking at the very root.
Her answer held not a trace of hesitation — only steadfastness, decisiveness, and purity. Not a shadow of confusion could be found.
Boom!
The column of light crashed down upon the cocoon. The laws of Heaven and Earth poured into her body in a frenzied torrent, forcing that cocoon to spin faster and faster at terrifying speed — until, with a resounding crack.
Bang.
The cocoon shattered, transforming into a rain of golden mist spreading in all directions.
Within that golden mist, a slender, upright new silhouette stood proud and unmoving in the air.
On the other side, the Imperial Preceptor — who had been tracing the dragon vein in pursuit — had no time to withdraw his power before he was struck with tremendous force, and spat out a mouthful of dark blood, sent flying backward.