He and It Chapter 231: Inquire Here (59)

Chapter 231: Inquire Here (59)

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: GaeaTiamat

 

Though Liu Fuguang knew the illusions in the mirror were fleeting, and despite the more than ten years of teacher-student bond, he still felt reluctant to see King Chishui under Yan Huan’s hand.

He knew Yan Huan’s jealous temper was like fire, and trying to intervene would be like adding fuel to the flames. He sighed and said, “I hope your methods work.”

As it turned out, Yan Huan’s methods not only worked, but exceeded Liu Fuguang’s expectations.

King Chishui had experienced a life full of twists. Rising to power, then being deposed, followed by having his limbs broken by an elder who had watched him grow up, and being cast out of the royal city like a dead dog. His status as the deposed king became known to all, then he suffered the tragic deaths of his wife and children…His once glorious youth turned into a distant memory, like the illusion of gold dust fading away. What remained was the cruel and dangerous reality of the Mortal Realm, which opened its blood-soaked mouth to him.

Now, he had fallen into Yan Huan’s hands. The Supreme Evil had many methods, including the teachings of the demonic path. Yan Huan reshaped King Chishui’s meridians, then casually retrieved a formula for severing emotions and forced him to practice it until he was on the verge of death.

King Chishui was utterly broken, then Yan Huan molded him as he pleased. The Evil One’s words and actions reshaped his will and completely changed him as a person.

“Power is the root of everything,” Yan Huan said slowly, as King Chishui lay in a bloodied heap beneath him. “You want to create a better world, and want everyone to follow your rules, but without power, how can that happen? When you hold great power, your ideals will be seen as heaven’s will, not the ramblings of a madman.”

“Big fish eat little fish, little fish eat shrimp, and the strongest eats all,” Yan Huan murmured with a smile. “This is the most simple, and most fundamental truth in the world. Since you didn’t understand it, you ended up in this situation.”

He lightly flicked his fingers and dropped a few of his tendrils onto the sand. Dark demonic energy surged, the black tendrils twisted like iridescent oil, and swelled when the wind touched them. In an instant, they became a chaotic, formless creature, who’s limbs and jaws thrashed as it lunged at King Chishui.

King Chishui only held a large knife, its blade glowing with fiery red light. He roared and fought the demonic beast in a fierce battle, while hurricane-like flames erupted from the ground and melted the sand into glossy, glazed surfaces.

Yet even within that sea of fire, King Chishui, a mortal empowered by the fierce flames, couldn’t stop the relentless regeneration of the demonic beast. In moments, his arm was ripped off, and blood spurted from his mouth and nose before he crashed hard into a stone pillar.

The demonic beast dragged him like a dead dog. Yan Huan transformed into a strange, black mist, and floated down beside King Chishui.

“Do you know,” he said. “There are so many kinds of people in this world, but there’s one type I absolutely despise.” He moved to the other side, and smiled coldly, his voice low and venomous. “Men who betray their wives…I loathe them most, because these kinds of men clearly have the opportunities I could only dream of, yet they don’t cherish them…”

The Supreme Evil’s face flickered in the wind, as his eyes swirled like rising bubbles, and tumbled from his body in all directions. They casually glanced at King Chishui, and even that brief glance made him tremble violently.

The encircling flames suddenly shrank, unwilling to die, as it jumped helplessly on the sand.

“Whose fault is it that your wife and children died?”

King Chishui murmured, “…My fault.”

“Whose fault is it that your kingdom was taken from you, and that your loyal subjects were purged?”

King Chishui’s lips quivered, “…Mine.”

“Who’s to blame for you falling into this state? From a king to being more humble and worthless than a dog?”

The flames, struggling to survive, died out.

King Chishui numbly said, “…Mine.”

The Supreme Evil scoffed and left him. Then used the same brutal methods to grow back his arm.

“You know this much, that’s good,” Yan Huan said with satisfaction, ready to continue with more heart-wrenching words. However, Liu Fuguang who was clearly displeased, stared at him from behind, with a definite threat in his gaze.

“Too much is as bad as too little, Yan Huan,” Liu Fuguang said. “What’s the point of pushing him to the brink today?”

Yan Huan, too carried away by his success, realized belatedly that he needed to rein in his malicious demeanor. He leapt into the air, turned the demonic beast to ashes, and coughed discreetly to cover up.

“Severing emotions is how it’s done,” he said. “I can’t help it…”

“You just want to torment him to get back at the Drought God for hurting you,” Liu Fuguang interrupted flatly. “Stop pretending. Do you think I can’t see through that?”

If you could see through that, why couldn’t you see that the Drought God’s attitude toward you is very complicated? Yan Huan felt wronged but didn’t dare speak up. He could only nod submissively, fearful that Liu Fuguang would turn away in anger and ignore him.

With the Supreme Evil’s guidance, King Chishui’s cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds. His blade grew cold and hard as ice with only a faint trace of burning red light left near the back of the blade.

Yan Huan ordered him to steal camels from a merchant caravan and he obeyed. Yan Huan ordered him to drive away dying refugees and he obeyed. Yan Huan ordered him to take up his large knife and slaughter a tribe that had once sheltered him and he did that as well.

“When I command you to do these little things, can you understand my intent?” Yan Huan asked.

“Small wrongs pave the way for greater good,” King Chishui, covered in blood, answered calmly. His face was a lifeless mask. “I follow your orders to learn more of your skills, and to fulfill my ideals. They are sacrificed for a better tomorrow.”

Yan Huan smiled without speaking. After a while, tendrils shot out from his sleeves like lightning, and he struck King Chishui across the face. The slap caused his neck to twist, and his spine to snap with a sharp crack.

“Mm, you answered well,” Yan Huan said lazily. “Now my hands are itching.”

The world within the mirror replicated the real world exactly. In this place, where spiritual energy was scarce and he was subjected to inhuman punishment, King Chishui quickly reached Foundation Establishment stage.

When he broke through to the late-stage of Foundation Establishment, Yan Huan handed him a knife and said, “This is the knife that killed your wife and children, the executioner’s knife from Chishui City. Take it and do what you must.”

King Chishui didn’t hesitate to take it. After many years, he returned to his long-lost homeland. The last time he left, he carried with him humiliation and pain, but this time, he returned with death and war.

The once kind and soft-hearted king, whose words and actions were so naive they were almost foolish, was changed. He swung his blade and then sheathed it. Torrents of blood spilled everywhere, yet not a single line on his face shifted. Mortal armies couldn’t rival the power of cultivators, and the towering city walls couldn’t withstand the light of the clouds in the sky. King Chishui cut through the city from one side to the other, and the bodies piled up like mountains. The waves of Chishui were more brilliantly red than ever before.

The Prime Minister, frail and old, was so terrified that he couldn’t stand straight. King Chishui raised his blade and made three bloodstained holes in his body, offering that as a tribute to his wife and children.

When it was all over, he sat alone in the bloodstained throne room, his eyes devoid of light. He slowly stroked the knife in his hand. It was ultimately just ordinary iron. Its blade was worn down with deep pockmarks, and its back covered in cracks, nearly ready to shatter with the slightest touch, so he handled the blade carefully, afraid to apply any pressure.

Yan Huan, dressed in black, walked from the side of the throne room. His steps made ripples in the blood on the floor as he raised an eyebrow. He didn’t move while the knife in King Chishui’s hand already turned to dust, and blew away with the wind.

“You really believed pulling out a broken blade would work?” he asked indifferently. “You’ve accomplished your dunce dream, now just go back and cultivate.”

King Chishui stood silently. From beginning to end, he never asked Yan Huan why he helped him because the devil’s will was ever-changing, and the intentions of devils were a subject never to be touched upon.

He ascended to the throne a second time, reorganized his army, led them into battle, and set the world ablaze with war. He conquered every country along the way, slaughtered every king and warlord, and no one could stop him. The strongest practitioners and the most elite armies, were nothing more than dust beneath the feet of a cultivator.

When he broke through to the Golden Core stage, the world no longer needed laws – he became the embodiment of law itself. King Chishui used unimaginable power, and with his supernatural hands, he redistributed wealth and resources. Under his pure white iron curtain, he created an absolute sense of justice.

There was no more plundering, because the robbers were long turned to bones; no more poverty, because no one would die of hunger again; no more crime or conspiracy, because everyone had to follow the new king’s rules. They were forced to unite and be friendly with one another. Even dissent and rebellion disappeared, for the new king’s eyes could see into anyone’s soul. Before any criticism could leave someone’s lips, the dissenters had already lost their heads.

“This is what I dreamed of,” King Chishui said, his face as hard and stiff as steel. “Everyone living in peace, united like family, loving and harmonious like siblings. My world.”

The demonic energy shook, and his voice echoed throughout the royal city like an all-encompassing thundercloud, overshadowing everyone beneath it.

Yan Huan stood in the shadows, and smugly wagged his tail at Liu Fuguang.

“How could you say my method didn’t work?” he boasted. “He’s become a Golden Core, and although his cultivation base is still weak, who in this world can kill him now? I’ve rewritten his fate. What can this broken mirror possibly say now?”

In truth, once a person is under the roof, they must bow their head. If his cultivation base wasn’t locked, even a thousand Mirrors of the World would have shattered. Now, trapped within the mirror, he could only grudgingly endure, and barely guess the mirror’s demands.

Liu Fuguang had too many complaints of his own, but he said nothing. He only gave a brief warning, “I’m not so sure.”

Time didn’t stop, and each day passed by. Slowly, the calendar flipped to the crucial page.

The four corners of the land were shrouded in pure black, and Yan Huan, too, was trapped in the other space within the mirror together with Liu Fuguang.

The dragon god clung to Liu Fuguang’s side like sticky candy, as its tail swished around in excitement. “Fuguang, I missed you so much!”

Liu Fuguang sighed, accustomed to it.

“Watch closely,” he said. “If this fails…”

“If this fails?” Yan Huan repeated.

Liu Fuguang said, “Then we’ll be powerless to help. We can only break out. We can’t be trapped here forever.”

Seven days of endless darkness stretched on, with neither of them seeing anything. After those seven days, the rumors swept through the sands – the once powerful king had turned into an evil monster, and the drought was a punishment from the heavens. He was not only a tyrant, cruel and ruthless, but also the legendary drought demon.

Where the rumors started, no one could say for certain. Maybe they came from an ancient book of legends; maybe from the mouth of a half-crazy blind man, whose physical disability and erratic behavior added credibility to his wild tales; or perhaps it was just a shared belief among the common people, spread through looks, gestures, and unspoken signals…

In any case, Yan Huan’s face darkened.

“I told him to pay special attention to such rumors,” Yan Huan said coldly. “He can’t even handle this small thing. Truly useless.”

Liu Fuguang said nothing, his expression full of concern.

After the solar eclipse, King Chishui’s cultivation base became extremely unstable and almost plummeted. He anxiously searched for a way to recover, but all attempts proved futile. He even called out to the devil and begged for its terrifying aid.

Liu Fuguang could almost see the end.

No matter how many there were, ants couldn’t kill an elephant, but could they kill a weak wolf, or a crippled bull?

That was hard to say.

With a frown, he suddenly leapt into the air, ignoring Yan Huan behind him, and flew high into the vast, boundless sky.

Liu Fuguang had been wondering about those seven days of darkness. He had his suspicions, but his instincts made him unwilling to explore them further.

Passing through the clouds, across the stars, and the separation of the universe, the vision through the world mirror seemed to stretch to its extreme in an instant.

In the dim starlight and endless dust, Liu Fuguang saw all the answers.

As expected, it perfectly confirmed his suspicions.

—Six thousand years ago, the Xuan Sun rose in the sky.

The nine-eyed dragon, carrying the black sun, flew across the star-dust scattered world sea. Its chaotic, violent, and blind nature was just like the solitary will of the heavens in a lifetime – unstoppable and impossible to defy.

Liu Fuguang’s voice was dry as he spoke, “…It’s you.”

Yan Huan, who had chased behind him, witnessed the scene, and remained silent.

There was no need to confirm further. Liu Fuguang knew in his heart. No matter how much King Chishui was loved by his people; how perfect and benevolent his country was; how high his cultivation base was; and no matter if the Supreme Evil or the Supreme Good intervened, his fate could not be changed.

He would always be publicly executed by the fervent crowd as the “Drought Demon,” then offered as a sacrifice to the heavens.

Because, it was Yan Huan, the Evil One, who had caused this situation. Long ago, the strongest Supreme Evil, the Dragon God, had radiated the Xuan Sun across the world for seven days and nights, then ignited the already brutal world and turned rumor into deeply believed legend. After the death of King Chishui, the obsession of the people lingered, and the powerful “aura” twisted reality, bringing forth the first Drought God from ancient times.

Yan Huan flicked his tail and spoke softly, “Fuguang…”

“Shh!” Liu Fuguang furrowed his brow and held up a finger. “Quiet, I’m thinking.”

The only remaining question was, what was the purpose of the Mirror of the World?

As a divine artifact of the Drought God, the Mirror of the World had one very strange feature: although Liu Fuguang and Yan Huan had accidentally entered its interior, they felt no rejection or hostility from it. Instead, it seemed to guide their actions, as though it wanted to tell them something…

They already knew the root of the Drought God.

The way out? Without the Mirror of the World’s permission, to try to break through the mirror would likely come at a great cost.

Liu Fuguang slowly curled his index finger, as he focused intently.

The mirror had urged them to help the young King Chishui in the ways of the Supreme Good and the Supreme Evil, but both methods failed. The King’s death remained tragic and chilling.

There was no doubt that the interventions of the Supreme Evil and the Supreme Good carried some deeper meaning, but what did they symbolize?

“Female Drought Demon…” Liu Fuguang’s mind suddenly flashed. He slowly asked, “I’ve heard that once, Shujun expelled the Female Drought Demon with just three words. Is that true?”

Yan Huan froze, then hurriedly replying, “True. Just ‘Shen Bei Xing’ – those three words were enough to expel the Female Drought Demon.”

 – “Goddess, go north!”

Those three words, though brief, carried the weight of a mountain. They contained the power to drive away an imperial daughter, for within them lay the spirit that interpreted the world and explained the truth.

The Supreme Evil and the Supreme Goodness, representing the extremes of black and white, murkiness and purity, yin and yang, when joined, balanced the great Dao. When separated, they meant calamity across the worlds.

Liu Fuguang crouched down, sketching a Tai Chi diagram in the air.

“What’s this?” he asked Yan Huan.

Yan Huan answered, “The union of yin and yang. This is the Dao.”

Liu Fuguang nodded thoughtfully. He stood up, murmuring, “I think I’ve found the ‘spell’ to expel the Drought God.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the world inside the mirror trembled violently once more.

Blinding white light pierced through the universe’s stars, shattering the illusions before their eyes! Their limbs and bodies shone like mirrors, reflecting the myriad beams of Dao crystals from afar.

Then, from their hair tips to fingertips, a sharp, crisp shattering sound filled the air. Cracks rapidly spread across their bodies, blooming brightly. With a sharp, bird-like cracking sound, the power that bound them in the Mirror of the World began to flow back into their bodies. Yan Huan seized the moment and swiftly wrapped his arms around Liu Fuguang’s waist, transformed into a dragon, crashed through the pure white space-time, and returned once again to the long-awaited real world.

In the real world, time had hardly passed, while the years in the mirror felt like a long, never-ending dream. The Drought God’s furious roars echoed from afar. They were still in the ruins of the collapsed Chishui Palace, rolling amidst the scorching air. A moment’s heat rose, steamed them with water vapor, and turned the air into mist, as if they were in a sauna.

The years in the mirror were truly like a long, endless dream. As the Drought God wildly crashed forward, Liu Fuguang shouted, “King Chishui, stop the war! I’ve learned your origin!”

The Drought God saw the overturned mirror and grew even angrier. With disheveled hair, he roared, “Despicable scoundrels!”

“You see, I told you,” Liu Fuguang said. Behind him, a familiar voice – so familiar it made his heart race – suddenly spoke, “Even the Supreme Goodness has its tricks, but you wouldn’t listen.”

…Yan Huan?

No, it wasn’t Yan Huan!

Liu Fuguang turned sharply, but Yan Huan was already standing behind him, to take the dagger that was aimed at his back.

“It’s been a long time, dear Fuguang,” Internal Demon smiled widely as he gazed at Liu Fuguang with affectionate eyes. “What’s the matter? Didn’t expect me to escape, did you?”