ILDV Chapter 47.2

Shen Muxuan swung out a sword and sighed. “Disciple, do I look like someone skilled in array formations? I can’t even find where I came in from anymore…”

Xu Rong: “…………”

Tianji Daojun—this person wasn’t a sword cultivator yet wielded excellent swordsmanship. Outside of the sword path, he had mastered nine out of ten skills. Rumor had it that when the Sword Elder wanted to guide him into sword cultivation and was refused, the reason given was that he felt he wasn’t sincere enough toward the sword to qualify as a sword cultivator. When this got out, he was mocked as a blockhead for a long time.

If one had to be sincere to the sword to qualify as a sword cultivator, then ninety percent of the sword cultivators in the Lantian realm would have to break their natal swords!

“Then how did you find the direction to escape so precisely?” Xu Rong complained.

Having been forcibly pulled out of the collapsing section of grotto by Shen Muxuan using his full Tribulation stage strength, their current footing should be closer to the array’s core. The grotto’s stability was clearly much higher here. The master and disciple temporarily stopped to rest.

Shen Muxuan was gripping his sword hilt forward and backward, tapping around everywhere. “Because I was trapped here once several hundred years ago. The famous Nine-Curve Myriad-Ravine Array—I can’t find the array eye when it’s flowing, but can this dead thing still stump me now that its master is dead?”

“…” Xu Rong watched Shen Muxuan’s confident stride forward, really unable to bear telling him he’d already gone off course by eighteen thousand li.

Something still felt wrong. “Then back then, with over a hundred small secret realms, if you didn’t know anything about array formations, how did you have the courage to draw your sword?”

Shen Muxuan’s voice was light and decisive. “What else could I do? If the secret realms really collapsed, you’d all be finished. I couldn’t just watch you all die.”

“But…” Xu Rong’s brows furrowed together. “Before drawing your sword, didn’t you think about the consequences of failure? The condemnation of thousands—even Taihua Immortal Sect couldn’t possibly protect you against public opinion…”

A warm hand landed on his head, rubbing vigorously twice. “Little brat, where do all these complicated thoughts come from? There was no time to think about all that before drawing the sword—when I thought of it, I did it. And the facts proved I bet correctly. The disciples all survived. Everyone’s happy.”

A single wrong thought leads to eternal hell. What kind of ‘everyone’s happy’ was that…

Xu Rong’s heart felt bitter, only feeling suffocated. He slapped the stone in displeasure and stood up, wanting to continue arguing, but his feet suddenly gave way. His throat was forced shut, and he fell silently downward.

The Tianji Sword’s faint light rapidly shrank, distant as a candle in the wind about to be extinguished. In an instant, a hand reached out and firmly grasped his fingertips. A sigh sounded from above. “Disciple, this won’t do. In the time it takes me to turn around, you’re gone. You’re not tormenting yourself—you’re making things difficult for someone who doesn’t know anything about arrays. A few more times like this, and I really won’t care about you anymore.”

Xu Rong opened and closed his mouth several times but couldn’t make a sound.

“I tried—there’s no way to pull you up.” Shen Muxuan quickly noticed the abnormality. After a brief silence, he sincerely made a suggestion. “Since you can’t come up, then let’s go down together. Hold on tight, disciple. I’m jumping down.”

Wha— The howling sound by his ears suddenly grew louder. He really jumped down!

Xu Rong’s eyes widened. Is this how you play?!

The hand gripping his fingertips never let go. Xu Rong could hear the wide sleeves and robes snapping fiercely in the wind. Soft fabric brushed across his cheek. He instinctively reached out to grab it and looked down—

“What are you smelling? It’s just a bloody smell!”

His feet suddenly touched solid ground. Before he could see his surroundings clearly, the robe hem in his hand was pulled away. Shen Muxuan glanced at him irritably and casually removed his blood-stained outer robe, setting it ablaze. He muttered quietly, “What’s wrong with this child? It’s not like he hasn’t seen blood before…”

Xu Rong didn’t catch what he was saying, his gaze captured by the waistline revealed when the outer robe fluttered away.

So… so slender.

It looked even slimmer than the willow waists of those female cultivators called the Ten Great Beauties of the Lantian realm in his past life. Being this slim, wouldn’t it really break during battle?

Yin Lang had no idea what yellow trash was running through this dog thing’s brain. He gripped the Tianji Sword tightly and warily swept his gaze in all directions.

This was a quite spacious plaza. Where they stood seemed like small stone steps at the edge, with a full four paths all leading to the large sacrificial platform at the very center. The plaza appeared to have existed for many years, with weathering scratches everywhere, decayed skeletons and fresh corpses abundant. Even though some symbols were covered, it didn’t prevent him from recognizing what this was.

The entire plaza was itself a complete Nine-Curve Myriad-Ravine Array. He could mistake any array formation in this life but not this damned thing.

Yin Lang didn’t plan to move forward. He was too clear about his array formation skills. Just as he was about to wake up the cheap protagonist to have him probe ahead, his gaze suddenly landed on a fresh corpse that had rolled not far away.

This corpse was covered with arrows and darts, the clothes mostly destroyed, and the exposed skin covered with several layers of talismans that hadn’t yet dissipated.

Yin Lang raised his hand and flicked out a thread of spiritual qi. The corpse’s face was revealed—it was none other than the Beiyu Young City Lord who had fallen into the dense forest with Xu Rong earlier, Zhao Hejing.

“This is…” Xu Rong finally snapped out of his daze.

“Dead through and through, no saving him.” Yin Lang withdrew his gaze and removed the jade pendant from his waist, tossing it over. Xu Rong caught it clumsily. “If you like it, just say so. I’m not so petty I’d be reluctant to give away a decorative item.”

Xu Rong’s old face reddened, but he secretly reminded himself to be cautious. How could Shen Muxuan, a newly advanced Tribulation stage great cultivator, fail to notice such an obvious staring gaze?

“Master, this place is…?” He seemed to ask casually. The person before him suddenly stopped and turned. Xu Rong’s heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t call me Master, call me Shizun.” Shen Muxuan didn’t let him gloss over it and directly corrected Xu Rong’s form of address, but had no intention of explaining the reason. He raised his chin slightly. “It’s an array master’s inheritance. If you’re interested, go up and try. I’ll wait for you here.”

(TL: “师尊” (shīzūn)-It’s stronger and more respectful than 师父 (shīfu / master), often implying higher status, seniority, or great skill.)

Xu Rong’s pupils dimmed somewhat as he pretended to laugh. “What’s the difference what I call you? I didn’t expect Master to be someone who quibbles over words.”

Shen Muxuan was noncommittal, only repeating once, “Go up.”

Xu Rong realized that the casual, joking tone he habitually used had disappeared when repeating these words. At the same time, an indescribable rage slowly rose from his heart.

Is Feng Lan that special to you? You won’t even share with others the right to use the same form of address? In your eyes, is there really such a vast difference between one you raised with your own hands and one who sought you out?

“Why are you standing there? If you don’t like it, speak up. No one’s forcing you to accept the inheritance. We can leave right now.”

Xu Rong lowered his head, gripping the jade pendant stuffed in his chest tightly, and said coldly, “If Shizun bestows it, there’s no reason not to like it.”

He strode toward the inheritance platform. With each step he took, the talismans on the ground lit up partially, but not a single mechanism was triggered. The smoothness made Yin Lang couldn’t help but sigh—truly worthy of the Child of Destiny.

When passing Zhao Hejing’s body, Xu Rong suddenly stopped, slowly turning around with his head lowered, expression unclear. “…Can you wait outside? The Nine-Curve Myriad-Ravine Array activates simultaneously with the inheritance. If you stay here, I’m afraid I won’t be able to look after you.”

Yin Lang stared at him for three seconds, then turned to leave the plaza. Xu Rong sensed he had truly completely left this space. His heart relaxed, and he quickly crouched down to hide something that had rolled out of Zhao Hejing’s corpse into his Xumi ring.

—An ancient scroll emitting a faint yellow glow.

Who would have thought that the treasure map the major immortal sects and Demon Sovereigns had fought tooth and nail over had actually fallen into ‘Zhao Hejing’s’ hands?

Looking at his manner of death, he’d probably triggered every trap set up in the entire inheritance space… No wonder nothing was triggered when he and Shen Muxuan fell down.

After thoroughly searching to confirm nothing was missed, Xu Rong finally turned to continue toward the altar to go through the inheritance process. It was true that this Soul Separation stage cultivator’s cultivation wasn’t high, but the Nine-Curve Myriad-Ravine Array’s usefulness was real. In his past life, this array had helped him escape with his life many times when his cultivation was low.

Who knows which Demon Venerable this unlucky ghost had provoked—even the Nine-Curve Myriad-Ravine Array couldn’t save his life, but at least all the good things ended up benefiting himself.

Yin Lang leaned against the stone wall with closed eyes, sensing the spiritual power fluctuations from the plaza. After confirming Xu Rong had completely entered the inheritance state, he reached out and grabbed at empty air—

“Ah! How can you grab me?!” A translucent gray mass was yanked from thin air. He stared at Yin Lang in terror. “Aren’t you that Shen… Shen something-or-other… the protagonist’s Shizun?!”

Yin Lang’s two fingers holding the pointed bottom tightened. Too lazy for small talk, he directly released a hair-thin wisp of demonic qi. This fragile soul that couldn’t even take form immediately let out a series of shrieks.

“You… you’re actually a demonic cultivator!” ‘Zhao Hejing’s’ soul body was in severe pain, his eyes terrified. “That’s not right—how can you be a demonic cultivator? If you’re a demonic cultivator, wouldn’t the entire novel collapse? The protagonist’s best friend, the second male lead of the whole book becoming the protagonist’s Shizun is already terrifying enough. Add another demonic cultivator identity on top—is the author planning to feed readers shit and cut off their own livelihood?!”

He rattled off a string of self-talk. Yin Lang didn’t stop him, even listening carefully from beginning to end.

This version seemed different from what he’d heard before.

He commanded, “I want to know the complete and detailed ‘novel’ plot from your mouth.”

‘Zhao Hejing’ wasn’t willing. Before transmigrating, he was just a loser. If he hadn’t secretly read many so-called transmigration novels on some green website, he wouldn’t have realized after transmigrating that instead of being the domineering protagonist, he’d settled for the next best thing—clinging to the domineering protagonist’s coattails.

Submitting to the protagonist was one thing, but why should he submit to a mere supporting male character! And this supporting male character even had a hidden identity as a demonic cultivator—probably prepared by the author as a mid-to-late boss for the protagonist. After his identity was exposed and he betrayed his sect to fall into the demonic path, he’d work for the final big boss, used to let the protagonist righteously kill his relatives and boost reputation.

‘Zhao Hejing’ raised his ‘proud’ head. “Ptui! Just because you want to hear it means I have to tell you? What are you even worth!”

Yin Lang stared at this fragile soul that couldn’t even take form, chuckled softly, then suddenly raised his hand and kneaded this soul mass like cotton, rolling it into a ball. Demonic qi flooded his palm. The screams broke pitch, and he slowly kneaded it back together bit by bit, saying unhurriedly, “Still able to cry out—looks like it’s not painful enough.”

The demonic qi infusion gradually increased. ‘Zhao Hejing’ went from screaming in agony to suffering, then to intermittent wailing, until finally he couldn’t even cry out. His soul color faded to near-transparency, barely clinging to life as he lay in his palm.

“Tsk, just Golden Core stage demonic qi and you can’t take it? With this little ability, you dare to stick your neck out and ask who this Venerable is? These ‘transmigrators’ of yours—are they all as arrogant as you, unable to recognize how much you’re worth? Think you’re the ‘protagonist’ with Heavenly Dao protection to act as you please? This Venerable has broken more tough bones than you have hairs on your head!”

‘Zhao Hejing’ trembled and curled into a ball. “Ask whatever you want. I’ll tell you everything I know without holding anything back.”

He was already scared witless, not even daring to try figuring out which Demon Venerable in the book this so-called ‘this Venerable’ referred to.

“First, tell me about the ‘plot’ you know.” Yin Lang closed his eyes again.

“From… from where?” Yin Lang moved slightly and ‘Zhao Hejing’ couldn’t help trembling, his voice nearly crying. “Venerable, the original novel is so long—several million words. It would take until dark to finish… hiss!”

Yin Lang warned him, “Don’t play tricks or presumptuously guess this Venerable’s identity. If you can’t think of what to say, this Venerable doesn’t mind practicing soul-searching techniques on you.”

‘Zhao Hejing’ indeed didn’t dare any more tricks. The cultivation world common knowledge he’d inherited from Zhao Hejing was enough for him to know what he could and couldn’t say now.

He’d never displayed his comprehension and summarization abilities so perfectly before. He forcibly distilled an unbearably long online novel, condensed it several hundred times, and started from the inheritance Xu Rong was currently receiving.

With each sentence he spoke, thunder rumbled overhead. Startled and shedding snot and tears, the great demonic lord watched him closely. Any slacking and demonic qi would pour into his soul body, tormenting him to the point of wishing for death.

“You took the Daoist Tianxuan’s secret treasury map?”

“Yes… yes. I… this lowly one originally wanted to use it to curry favor with the ‘protagonist.’ I didn’t expect to take a wrong step in the Nine-Curve Myriad-Ravine Array earlier and lose my life.”

“The map is still on you?”

“Yes! It’s in my chest! I clearly followed exactly what the original novel said, didn’t get a single step wrong, yet somehow triggered all the mechanisms. I died horribly from ten thousand arrows piercing my heart, wuwuwu…”

“Shut up.”

“Wuwu… yes.”

“Who ultimately got the Tianxuan Secret Treasury?”

“Of course the protagonist. The entire world was created because of him. All the secret realms, treasures, inheritances—like that array inside—all exist because the protagonist needs them. All the good things should belong to the protagonist.” The soul spoke as if it were obvious.

“Protagonist…”

Yin Lang took a deep breath. His five fingers pressed against the stone wall sank deep inside, but still couldn’t suppress the murderous intent in his heart.

The thunder overhead grew more urgent, each tribulation lightning bolt larger than the last. If he weren’t under the Nine-Curve Myriad-Ravine Array right now but on the surface, even a Tribulation stage cultivator couldn’t withstand such terrifying heavenly might.

This was a warning from Heavenly Dao. Warning him not to harm the ‘protagonist,’ not even to harbor half a thought of killing.

Was this world truly entirely revolving around the so-called protagonist? If the protagonist died, would everyone go down together?

He could tolerate his temper and trade with Heavenly Dao for his goals, could patiently play the master-disciple game with the ‘protagonist,’ but he couldn’t bear his entire life being lived for someone else, his life and death controlled by another’s single thought.

If this was the truth, then he might as well rush in now and kill that thing to be done with it! At least death would be his own choice!

“Ahhh—boss, please calm down!” The soul screamed endlessly.