Chapter 112: Asking the Master Through All Things

A mighty Sword aura surged across the heavens above the Divine General's Residence, vast and unyielding. The youthful figure in the golden divine sword manifestation stood like a deity forged from blade and spirit, commanding the allegiance of a thousand swords in awe.

Inside the courtyard, Bian Ruxue tilted her head upward, her eyes wide with wonder. Countless sword shadows reflected in her pupils, leaving her momentarily dazed. Such overwhelming Sword might—it could shake the very foundations of the world. She had only ever witnessed such power in her Master’s hands.

But her Master was a Sword Saint, a peak cultivator of the Four Foundations Realm, one who wielded the Sword to probe the soul, whose strength was absolute. And yet, Li Hao—only at the Fifteen Li Stage—had already begun to manifest such a terrifying presence. His Sword Dao had already caught up to his Master’s pace, far surpassing her own understanding.

High above the mansion, the guests who had earlier left now paused mid-air, gathering on the rooftops of Qingzhou City, their gazes fixed on the epic clash unfolding within the illustrious residence.

Shock and disbelief painted their faces.

They had thought the Li Clan’s young heir—having nearly slain a Buddha’s disciple with nothing but a chopstick—was already unmatched in his generation, peerless at his level.

But now they realized: that was not even his true power.

The torrent of swords now raging through the sky—the true killing technique of this boy—was what had been concealed all along.

Had this Sword Art been unleashed during the True Dragon Contest, Li Qianfeng would have never even needed to step onto the battlefield.

Even among the few Masters present, the pressure was overwhelming. Their hearts pounded, as if facing a celestial war god.

“That child…” Jian Wudao stared, stunned. In mere moments, his shock deepened again and again. The boy—his eyes devoid of any sword reflection—had achieved such terrifying mastery in the Sword Dao.

Could it be that this boy had merely practiced the Sword casually, without passion, without truly entering the heart of the art… and yet still became a Sword Dao Champion?

Jian Wudao refused to believe it. It defied everything he knew.

Above the Divine General’s Residence, countless waves of sword energy coalesced, swirling under Li Hao’s divine manifestation. With a single sweep of his form, the torrent surged downward like a waterfall of swords a thousand zhang high.

Li Tiangang’s pupils contracted. His mind surged with shock. Though he was a swordsman of the Dao of the Blade, not one of the boundless Cultivation Seas, he still knew the final form of this Sword Art was nearly impossible to master.

And yet, Li Hao had mastered it.

Gazing at the approaching tide of sword qi, Li Tiangang’s eyes flared with fury. This boy… is truly trying to kill his father?!

From above, his Spirit Soul erupted forth, its blade blazing with divine light, a radiant sword of celestial might. With a single stride, he plunged into the storm of sword shadows.

The white sword shadows crashed like ocean waves. The crimson figure—Li Tiangang—was like a blazing sun, his divine blade carving through the air. The sword shadows shattered instantly, torn apart by the sheer force of his divine light.

But the sword tide was too vast—endless, infinite—surging forward like a flood, relentless and overwhelming. Even the divine light was drowned beneath the wave.

“Break!!”

Li Tiangang roared, unleashing his Divine Might.

This was a technique only a Sect Master Realm cultivator could wield. Yet, with his Spirit Soul at the Three Immortalities level, the power he unleashed far surpassed even that of a true Sect Master.

As if a divine emperor had descended, crushing pressure erupted in waves—spiritual sound waves, thunderous and violent—shattering the sky.

The entire sword tide fractured into pieces.

The strongest sword technique of the boundless sea had been obliterated by his roar.

At the same moment, the overwhelming Divine Might struck Li Hao. His face turned deathly pale. Blood surged in his chest. A trickle of crimson spilled from the corner of his mouth.

Before him, it felt as if a celestial god king stood. A primal urge to prostrate himself welled up in his soul—overwhelmed by the sheer might of the Divine Might, he wanted to kneel.

But kneel?!

Li Hao’s eyes flashed crimson with fury.

When they first met, even a single word from Li Tiangang would have made him drop to his knees. Son to father. Kneeling out of bloodline, out of gratitude—for the man who had risked his life to slay three thousand-year demons, who had forged his Blood-Melting Foundation.

But now… that bond was broken.

He would rather die than kneel.

“Aaaaahhh!!”

Li Hao screamed into the sky, hair wild with rage. A feral roar tore from his throat. He unleashed the essence of his Body Dao—Tiger Press.

Though no sound came from his mouth, the air trembled. A monstrous tiger seemed to burst from his body, its roar echoing like thunder, shaking the heavens.

Li Tiangang’s eyes widened in shock. A Sect Master’s Divine Might?!

Though the power was still crude, it had already taken form.

He hissed coldly, his Spirit Soul gripping the blade, stepping forward with intent to annihilate Li Hao’s manifestation and suppress him utterly.

Seeing that Tiger Press couldn’t stop him, Li Hao’s gaze turned feral. He swiftly summoned the ancient scrolls he had collected—artworks gathered after the battle in Cangyu City, still unembedded.

The scrolls were:

- Thousand Mountains Bird Flight Scroll

- Snow Mountain Spirit Fox Scroll

- Qilin Steed Scroll

- Blood Sea Ferocious Dragon Scroll

- Panshan Scroll

- Qiongqi Mountain Scroll

Without hesitation, Li Hao embedded them all into his Body Dao, no time to ponder their individual effects.

In an instant, his bones and muscles seemed to undergo a transformation beneath an invisible, cosmic force.

A flood of information surged into his mind—each scroll’s unique abilities, their powers, their essence.

Among them, three scrolls offered effects similar to Tiger Press.

Li Hao’s eyes turned blood red. He activated them one by one.

Blood Sea Ferocious Dragon Scroll!

A dragon’s roar erupted from within him. The air around grew thick with crimson qi. A phantom image of a colossal dragon, a hundred zhang long, spiraled above him, writhing in a sea of blood. It roared at Li Tiangang, its fury shaking the heavens.

Yet the Spirit Soul’s divine light—though momentarily dimmed—did not falter. Its stride accelerated.

Then came the second scroll.

Panshan Scroll!

A mountain—majestic, towering, ancient—rose behind Li Hao. Its presence stabilized him, making him unshakable, grounded like a peak.

“Hmph.” Li Tiangang’s Spirit Soul sneered. Mountains? He had slain demons across Yanbei, crushed spirit beasts, and leveled mountains before.

All would fall beneath his blade.

But then—a low, bovine roar echoed from the shadows.

A dark, monstrous figure emerged behind the mountain—part tiger, part ox, with wings on its back. Its eyes burned with ancient bloodlust. Its gaze locked onto Li Tiangang, radiating a primordial aura of slaughter.

Qiongqi—the Great Wild Beast.

Its Divine Might was no illusion—it was real, terrifying, like a true beast of legend.

Li Tiangang’s expression shifted. The divine flame on his blade flickered, then vanished, leaving only the polished steel.

Three powers—combined with the original Tiger Press—now surged through Li Hao.

His hair stirred without wind. Around him, a phantom aura of a hundred beasts gathered, like a king of the wilds. His presence radiated primal terror and raw dominance.

Li Tiangang’s Spirit Soul hesitated. Even he felt the weight of this presence. Such power—enough to make a Master bow.

This… is my son?

Fifteen Li Stage. Yet capable of facing a Master.

Such innate talent—unparalleled in history. A source of pride.

But… his spirit was wild, untamed.

Li Tiangang’s eyes hardened again. Regret flickered. Perhaps I should have taken him with me to Yanbei. Even if it was dangerous. If I had raised him beside me, he wouldn’t have grown this feral.

With such talent, he could have illuminated the entire world.

“Good. But you’ve taken the wrong path.”

Li Tiangang inhaled deeply. His eyes blazed with divine light—cold, piercing, soul-chilling.

No more mercy.

His Spirit Soul clenched the blade. He unleashed a single, overwhelming slash—one so fierce it threatened to split the Blue Lotus Courtyard, the entire Divine General’s Residence in two.

The sheer power of that strike surpassed even Li Hao’s earlier Sea Without Shore Sword Art—ferocious, merciless, terrifying.

“Li Tiangang!” Li Qingzheng shouted, his face pale.

But Li Tiangang ignored him. The blade plunged straight toward Li Hao’s Spirit Soul.

The killing intent within it was colder than ten thousand years of ice, carrying the power to cleave open the heavens.

Li Hao’s face paled. Even with the three scrolls’ powers, he could not withstand this.

No hesitation. He instantly drew his Spirit Soul back into his body, merging soul and flesh. Then, with Control-Objects Power, he fled at maximum speed.

His body lightened tenfold—thanks to the Thousand Mountains Bird Flight Scroll and Snow Mountain Spirit Fox Scroll—his movement now a blur.

Yet the blade came too fast. Despite his evasion, it struck him.

Li Tiangang had accelerated mid-swing.

Spurt!

Blood sprayed from Li Hao’s mouth. His body flew backward like a broken sack, crashing through several walls before finally stopping.

Servants and maids inside the courtyard stared in shock as Li Hao crawled from the rubble, coughing blood.

He didn’t pause. He sprinted toward the outer gate, his heart burning with fury.

But the Realm gap was too wide. Staying meant death.

“Where do you think you’re going?!”

A roar echoed. Li Tiangang’s form streaked through the sky like a burning comet of divine light.

Li Hao didn’t look back. He pushed his Control-Objects Power to the limit.

His spiritual object manipulation reached forty li per breath. Then, channeling his entire Great Meridian, he unleashed the dual Yin-Yang Meridians’ power—his speed surged again.

This far exceeded the limits of the Fifteen Li Stage.

But behind him, the pursuit was faster.

Li Tiangang, having inherited the True Dragon’s power and received ancestral hall enhancements, was at the Three Immortalities Realm. Though wounded, he still outpaced any Fifteen Li Stage cultivator.

Boom!

A palm seal slammed down from above.

Li Hao had barely exited the residence when he was struck mid-air, crashing into a building with bone-shattering force.

He crawled from the wreckage. People nearby were injured by the shockwave—but he had no time for them.

As he rose, he saw two figures outside the ruins.

Zhou Zheng and his father.

Li Hao’s body trembled.

A memory surged—those words he’d overheard before class, the furious shout:

“I know my son is a man—honest, upright. He’s not some rotten porridge pot rat!”

“He failed at cultivation—but that doesn’t mean he’s unworthy of being human!”

“My son may have little potential, but his heart is pure. Even if he’s only at Strength Integration Realm, he’s my pride. How dare you insult him like this?!”

Li Hao coughed up blood. A bitter smile touched his lips.

Strange… why did he remember those words so clearly?

Was there ever a part of him that secretly hoped for such a voice?

Was it the power of bloodline? Or the worldly belief that father and son should share deep affection?

Or was it the memory of that day—when Li Tiangang had slain demons to save him, forging his foundation?

That debt had once stirred gratitude in his heart.

Who could have known it would now leave him broken, bleeding?

Above, the wind howled. A second palm seal descended—like a god’s hand crushing the earth.

Li Hao looked up. The divine palm loomed above him.

He laughed—cold, bitter.

Then, without a word, he turned and fled into the distance.

He didn’t expect mercy. His life was his own. He wouldn’t die here.

“Don’t run!”

Li Tiangang’s eyes were ice. He withdrew his palm seal—avoiding collateral damage.

Then he leapt after him.

On the long street, in the sky—father and son locked in a deadly chase.

Ordinary people couldn’t see it. But the waves of killing intent rippled through the air, making countless onlookers gasp, their hearts frozen with dread.

Boom!

Li Hao was struck again—sent crashing into another building. He rose, rolled, and pulled up his Character Panel.

What else can I level up? What can save me?

He saw the Musical Tone Scroll. Without hesitation, he embedded all the melodies into his Yi Dao.

A flood of information poured into his mind—like a phoenix’s cry, like the soft notes of Little Hujia.

New abilities appeared.

But Li Hao flicked through them—none offered speed, none provided a breakthrough.

He scanned the panel. His cultivation combat scriptures were packed—too many.

Yet none could save him now.

And then—the figure of divine might descended upon him, towering above, crushing the sky.

“Run, run! Why don’t you run?”

“You claimed you were so strong, that you could bully your brothers and kill your father. Yet you’re this weak?”

Li Tiangang’s voice was ice. He raised his palm once more.

Li Hao’s eyes burned with fury. He stared at the descending palm, then—without fleeing—he unleashed Sea Without Shore again.

The Sword aura surged, filling the sky.

Amid the storm of sword shadows, Li Hao did not run. He knew—he couldn’t escape.

Only one path remained.

Fight. Die fighting.

The sword light reflected in his eyes. His gaze grew calm.

The sea has the sky as its companion. What about me?

A flicker of sorrow passed through him.

But then he remembered the little white fox who had stood in front of him, fearless.

He thought of Li Yuanzhao—always believing in him.

Of Second Uncle. Old Feng. Fifth Elder.

He smiled.

At least, these past years, he hadn’t failed. He had friends—people who truly knew him.

His eyes blazed with resolve.

He watched as his sword shadows shattered beneath the divine might.

The swords were many—but they could not match one slash of Divine Might.

All these years, he had amassed countless combat scriptures… but no true path of his own.

Where is my way? Where is my home?

Then, memories of old stories from the Pavilion of Listening to Rain surfaced.

Most Masters had built their styles by studying others’ scriptures—or by observing the natural instincts of spirit beasts.

The true Master—was their own teacher.

If there was no Master, then one must create their own path.

And in that path, they become the Master.

So why cling to forms?

Suddenly—lightning struck in his mind.

A sudden enlightenment.

His combat scriptures—so many, so varied—were all borrowed.

They were tools for body enhancement or cultivation breakthroughs… but they were not his.

Some lower-grade scriptures—by his Dao Insight—could be distilled into Essence.

That Essence was a new path, a reference point. But it was still incomplete.

That was why he was only halfway into the Sect Master Realm.

So… what if he didn’t follow others?

Li Hao looked at the figure shattering his sword shadows. His gaze swept past it—toward the vast sky, the storm-laden clouds.

Time seemed to freeze. The wind stilled.

Even Li Tiangang—Three Immortalities Realm—was just a man beneath the same sky.

Why not use Heaven and Earth as reference?

Why not use all things as reference?

In that moment, all sword forms vanished.

All boundaries dissolved.

Only the Sword Intent remained.

His aura stirred on its own—flowing through his Great Meridian along a path unknown to him.

It surged into his eyes.

And there—before him—a gate appeared.

The Heavenly Gate.

It wasn’t in the heavens.

It wasn’t in the world.

It was within his heart.

Li Hao laughed—wild, triumphant.

His aura roared like a storm. He kicked open the Heavenly Gate.

A flood of boundless energy surged from within him.

For the first time, he felt the same exhilaration as in that old entertainment house poem:

“The great peng rises with the wind, soaring nine thousand miles to the sky.”

The Heavenly Gate opened—leading to another realm.

A feeling of pure clarity. As if rising from deep water, emerging into sunlight.

His senses sharpened—every dust mote visible, every detail of the world crystal clear.

This was ultimate control over the body.

And with it, he could push his combat scriptures deeper.

As his Mind State shattered the veil, a flood of suppressed knowledge burst forth—like a dam breaking.

Behind the Sea Without Shore Sword Art, a new form emerged.

Sea Without Horizon · Other Shore!

Clang!

The sword in Li Hao’s hand roared like a dragon—responding to his will, blazing with fierce light.

All of this happened in an instant.

Inside his Mind State, time flowed differently—hundreds of thoughts in a single breath, while outside, only a flicker passed.

The sudden enlightenment had pierced into the deepest layers of his consciousness—where thoughts raced a thousand times faster

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end