The Venerable One’s Three Questions

“Just with you?”

Elder True Monarch watched the cultivators from Sword Sect and the Northern Lands charging towards her in unison.

Even in her current state, gravely wounded and on the verge of death, she was not someone these cultivators, whose highest cultivation was merely Golden Core, could hope to besiege.

One had heard of rats gnawing an elephant to death, but never of ants biting one to oblivion.

What’s more, as a cat demon, Elder True Monarch had no fear of mice.

“This True Monarch, Elder True Monarch, long ago attained the Nascent Soul Dao and ascended to the rank of True Monarch.

I have also taken Haqi as my foundation, proving the Dao of Haqi, which can manifest as Ha, as Qi, as the Elder Immortal Arts, as a foundation, as a grain, as the Haqimi lineage.

In the mortal realm, an Elder True Monarch must emerge!!!”

Having declared this, Elder True Monarch soared out of the colossal pit, an aura of immense dread radiating from her form.

Her gaze sweeping over the human cultivators, who seemed no more than ants before her, she instantly exhaled a ‘Haqi’.

A gust of clear, ethereal wind assailed all the human cultivators present, its mere sight causing an involuntary shiver to run through them.

Indeed, even a gravely wounded, dying Nascent Soul cultivator was beyond the reach of these Foundation Establishment realm cultivators.

In that instant, despair began to bloom in the hearts of the multitude.

Qin Yan observed this, and in that very moment, he felt as though everything before his eyes had begun to slow.

The dust motes dancing in the air, the whiskers on Elder True Monarch’s face, the astonishment etched on Fangyuan’s countenance, the terror in Sect Leader Murong’s eyes, and the sheer despair of the other cultivators.

From a third-person perspective, the entire world seemed to have pressed a pause button at that moment.

A figure, clad in white robes with three thousand strands of black hair tied up, appeared before Qin Yan, not far away.

Her back seemed as though a mere breeze could scatter it, yet it was solidified like a towering mountain.

‘Right,’ he thought.

‘This Azure Sprout Secret Trove was a legacy left by the young cultivators of the Northern Lands.’

‘If a Nascent Soul demon cultivator were to appear here, it wouldn’t be a legacy at all, but outright murder!’

Gazing at the white-robed figure, a strange clarity dawned in Qin Yan’s heart.

“Qin Yan, the newest young prodigy of the Yanqing Sect in the Northern Lands, and a male cultivator at that.

Truly intriguing.”

A ethereal voice drifted into Qin Yan’s ears, and without needing to ponder, he knew it belonged to the woman in white robes whose back was turned to him.

“Are you the Nine Heavens Demon-Slaying Celestial Venerable?”

Qin Yan hesitated for a moment, then cautiously inquired.

“Indeed!”

The simple affirmation made Qin Yan’s mind buzz.

As the saying went, a centipede dies but never falls stiff; a cultivator rumored to have died in battle thousands of years ago now stood before him.

Was she human, a ghost, or perhaps an even more terrifying existence?

“Will you help us eliminate this Elder True Monarch?”

Qin Yan pondered for a moment before asking again.

“Of course!” The white-robed cultivator’s reply was unequivocal.

“When this cat demon first intruded into my memories, she was merely in the Golden Core stage, useful as a whetstone.

I never imagined she would then roam freely within my memories and attain the Nascent Soul Dao.

It is time her life was taken.”

A single, simple sentence had sealed the fate of the Nascent Soul Elder True Monarch.

After all, this was the white-robed cultivator’s domain.

If one were to liken it to Western mythology, this place was her divine realm.

In the context of the Huaxia cultivation system, she was the Heavenly Dao of this place.

She could arbitrarily alter the Heavenly Dao of her own world, much like the covenant.

If she didn’t exist, then in the real world, there would be no such thing as a covenant that could communicate with the Heavenly Dao.

Perhaps such things existed, but Qin Yan had neither seen nor heard of them to date.

“Senior, you are truly formidable!”

Qin Yan wore an expression of profound admiration, for as the saying went, one did not strike a smiling face; though a thousand things might pierce, flattery never failed.

“I am aware of what transpired earlier.

Your ability to unite the cultivators of the Northern Lands in resisting the demon race is something I have rarely witnessed in thousands of years; it is truly a meritorious deed.”

The white-robed cultivator spoke thus.

“Senior flatters me,” Qin Yan replied, a flicker of guilt in his heart.

Yet, he quickly straightened his back, for as the adage stated, a gentleman is judged by his actions, not his intentions, and no one is perfect when judged by their heart.

He bowed deeply, then implored, “Senior, please make your move and slay this cat demon!”

“I cannot act.”

The white-robed cultivator declared this abruptly.

“Since I have become the minor Heavenly Dao of this world, I must naturally abide by certain rules of this realm.

Otherwise, there would be too many loopholes, and maintaining this secret realm already pushes my power to its absolute limit.”

“Then I dare ask, Senior, what should be done next?” Qin Yan inquired, his heart filled with doubt.

“Do not be hasty.

First, I shall ask you three questions.”

The white-robed cultivator shook her head.

“Young man, observe these myriad beings.

Most are frail, their lives barely spanning a century, like mayflies in the eyes of cultivators such as you and I.

With my power alone, I can repel tens of thousands of demons, safeguarding their peace for a lifetime.

If you were in my place, and there came a day when the assembled might of the demon race beyond the pass became insurmountable for me, and only by sacrificing my life and burning my primordial spirit could I activate an ancient restriction to eternally seal the demons outside the mountains—though it would also sever the spiritual ley lines of this land, making cultivation impossible for future generations—should I sacrifice myself to protect the peace of all beings for a lifetime, yet sever the very foundation of their future self-reliance?

Or should I preserve my useful body, temporarily evade the conflict’s intensity, and teach them to resist on their own, even if it means potentially witnessing the deaths of the majority during this demonic calamity?

How would you choose? And why?”

This question plunged Qin Yan into deep contemplation.

The deeds of this Venerable One before him were known to every cultivator in the Northern Lands.

She had single-handedly carved out a space for humanity to survive in the Northern Lands, then died in battle, yet left behind the Azure Sprout Secret Trove.

Clearly, the Venerable One before him had chosen the latter path, for she could have easily allowed the Northern Lands to sink into ruin.

“Venerable One, I would not choose to sacrifice myself for a fleeting peace.

True protection is not bearing everything for them, but empowering them to protect themselves.

I would dedicate all my efforts to simplifying and imparting my life’s knowledge, organizing the young and strong to practice array formations, and igniting the will to resist in everyone.

Even if there are sacrifices this time, those who survive will gain strength and conviction.

The spiritual ley lines may be severed, but martial arts and spirit can endure eternally.

The awakening and power of the people themselves are the true ‘restriction’ that will eternally seal the demon race.”

The current dynasties and sects thrived and developed precisely by relying on the precious legacy left behind by this Venerable One.

Perhaps all of this was within the Venerable One’s expectations.

****

Then, the scene shifted, and the two found themselves in a village graveyard.

Gravestones stood like a forest, each inscribed with the name of a villager, the cause of their demise, and how they met their end.

“Those buried here are not cultivator heroes, but ordinary villagers who, during the demon race’s first large-scale invasion, used hoes, choppers, and even their own flesh and blood to delay the demon beasts, all to cover the retreat of their kin.

History books are written by cultivators; they will only record when and where Sword Sect disciples defeated demon kings, yet not a single word about these villagers.”

The Venerable One gazed at Qin Yan.

“In your opinion, was it I, the one who ultimately slew the demon king, who determined the outcome of that battle, or these nameless ones who went to their deaths?

Does the vast historical progression of the mortal realm truly stem from the impetus of a few powerful individuals, or is it an accumulation of countless, seemingly insignificant choices made by ordinary mortals?”