Chapter 77: No Need

Thin cracks had already appeared on the shaft of the pen.

“Ouyang Lianfeng, Seventh Generation Lord of the Sanctuary of Void’s End, now offers his life in exchange, beseeching Ancestor to descend and bless the Sanctuary with peace!”

As he finished speaking, Ouyang Lianfeng spat out a mouthful of blood. This was no ordinary blood—it was his vital essence. Human essence is finite; Ouyang Lianfeng had resolved to sacrifice even his life.

The instant his words fell, the pen, already marred by cracks, suddenly dissolved into powder, drifting away on the air.

A pillar of light shot upward from Ouyang Lianfeng, piercing the heavens.

It was celestial radiance.

Within the shimmering light, a figure gradually appeared. That silhouette held a pen in his hand, and behind him was a zither.

“I have ascended for many years; it seems my legacy is finally coming to an end.”

The man spoke as he surveyed the surrounding battlefield, and a hush fell over all. Everyone watched him in awe.

The pen’s glow lingered in the sky, its aura vast and overwhelming.

An immortal!

“That’s the Immortal of Void’s End!” someone cried.

“So he sealed his avatar within the pen?”

“No wonder that pen possessed such tremendous power.”

“With the Immortal of Void’s End appearing, the Sanctuary has hope at last!”

The crowd buzzed with excitement.

Those who had been despondent in the Sanctuary now revived. Their ancestor had arrived—what was there to fear?

Just moments ago, the enemy’s immortals and quasi-immortals had pressed their aura upon the Sanctuary, suppressing its people so thoroughly they could not exert their true strength. Now, as the Immortal’s presence spread, their spiritual power slowly returned; with the Immortal’s support, all obstacles were swept away.

“The Ancestor has appeared!”

“With the Ancestor, we are saved!” Many in the Sanctuary nearly wept, faces aglow with fervor.

They had thought death inevitable this day. Who could have guessed that, at the crucial moment, their ancestor would manifest? This was hope itself.

“With the Ancestor returned, let’s see who dares lay a hand on the Sanctuary of Void’s End!” Ouyang Lianfeng stood upon the earth, laughing wildly. Even with only a breath left in him, his defiance was unyielding.

“Void’s End!”

Ling Ji and Ziyang were now grim-faced, their expressions dark.

In all the years since the Martial Realm’s founding, the Immortal of Void’s End had always been a dazzling presence. Others had succeeded in ascending, but none could compare to him.

And now, the Immortal had appeared in person.

Ye Qingchen, however, remained utterly unperturbed, even serene. She turned her gaze to Void’s End and remarked, “Even if your true self were here instead of an avatar, what difference would it make?”

Void’s End merely smiled, his aura imposing.

He looked at Ye Qingchen, and in his eyes was nothing but admiration.

“I have been in the Celestial Realm for thousands of years, and now another has ascended. It seems the celestial world will be less dull henceforth.”

“I wonder, though—what has driven so many to strike at my Sanctuary of Void’s End?”

The immortal’s heart was troubled.

Ye Qingchen gestured casually toward Ouyang Lianfeng below, “He is the one who brought calamity upon the Sanctuary. You might ask him yourself.”

Void’s End followed her gesture and glanced at Ouyang Lianfeng.

Just a fleeting look.

Ouyang Lianfeng felt immense pressure, as if he stood naked before his ancestor, utterly exposed, bereft of secrets.

His mind grew faint, and then he knew nothing at all.

Void’s End withdrew his gaze.

“So that’s how it is?”

He shook his head. “I wished to leave two celestial artifacts in the Martial Realm, hoping to give more a chance at ascension. I never expected it would bring such consequences upon my descendants.”

“I am, in fact, quite curious—who is the predecessor behind you?”

Ye Qingchen’s tone was placid. “You do not yet have the capacity to know.”

Void’s End chuckled.

“Perhaps not, but after ascending to the Celestial Realm, I have made a name for myself.”

He stepped forward, celestial light flooding his eyes, as if he could see through all things.

He fixed his gaze upon the little mountain village, piercing even the void with his vision.

“How dare you!”

Ling Ji and Ziyang shouted in anger.

To stare directly at Senior Zhu’s village, attempting to spy on the elder—such insolence was intolerable!

“Immortal Ye Qingchen, please restrain him!” pleaded the Lord of Ziyang.

Though Ling Ji and Ziyang were quasi-immortals, they could not match a true immortal; only Ye Qingchen, herself an immortal, might have a way.

Ye Qingchen shook her head. “Senior Zhu has no desire to intervene. If he wished to stop this man, the latter would not have lasted long enough to appear—he would have been dispatched before he could even manifest.”

“Senior Zhu must have his reasons. Best that we do not meddle.”

“Besides, Senior Zhu’s two disciples share a connection with the Immortal of Void’s End.”

Ling Ji and Ziyang instantly understood.

Truly the wisdom of an immortal.

What she grasped with ease, they could not even fathom themselves.

They could never keep pace.

…

Meanwhile,

Within Zhu Xiaoyuan’s courtyard.

“The piece you played earlier has improved greatly, but there are still many places where discordant notes intrude, affected by the surroundings.”

Zhu Xiaoyuan guided Ruofeng’s playing, hand over hand.

The zither Ruofeng held was precisely the one left behind by the Immortal of Void’s End.

“Stand aside and listen to me play a tune.”

Ruofeng rose, and Zhu Xiaoyuan played with unhurried grace.

The music flowed like water, pure and melodious.

All else fell silent, leaving only the song lingering in the air.

What Zhu Xiaoyuan did not know was that, not far away, where two armies faced each other, someone’s eyes were watching his little courtyard.

Void’s End turned his gaze finally upon Zhu Xiaoyuan’s courtyard.

What he saw upon the gate were four grand characters:

“The Solitary Leisure Courtyard!”

Solitary… Void’s End trembled, and the gentle aura surrounding him vanished in an instant.

He could not help but shudder.

Impossible! How could anyone write such characters? Every stroke was imbued with the rhythm of Dao. Within the flow of meaning, faint celestial energy surged forth.

These were not mere words—they were a realm unto themselves.

Standing at the gate, he was awed by the script alone.

Within the courtyard, the sound of the zither drifted lazily.

“That is my zither…”

Void’s End recognized it. He could identify his instrument even if it were reduced to ashes.

Yet the melody it produced was unlike any he had ever imagined.