He walked on the long central walkway in the front hall of the Heavenly Palace. Every brick under his feet shone like thin ice, reflecting his figure.
"Thud." "Thud." "Thud."
Step by step, the sound of his empty footsteps echoed in the hall.
But Mo Ran was not alone. He was standing in the middle of the endless walkway of the Confucian Wind Sect's Sacrificial Hall. Both sides of the walkway were densely packed with people. Men, women, the old, and the young. They all had different expressions on their faces.
He stood in the middle, which was like a small city. To his left were the corpses of the members of the Confucian Wind Sect, the people who had wronged Xu Shuanglin. They had all been reduced to lowly people, dismembered by a thousand cuts, executed by all sorts of torture, and then brought back to life, only to be executed again. On the other side, there was singing and dancing, free and unfettered.
He even saw Luo Xianxian. That was probably not a real soul, but an appearance made by other corpses using illusions. She was under Hei Zi's control, just like Jin Chengchi's flood dragon people.
Luo Xianxian's hair was tied up in a bun. She was with her husband, Chen Bohuan. The two of them looked peaceful and leisurely.
He also saw Minister Chen's youngest daughter. She was sitting beside her brother and sister-in-law, talking to them with a smile. Luo Xianxian was leaning against Chen Bohuan. When she heard something interesting, she would cover her mouth with her sleeves and smile brightly.
The scene was beautiful and dreamy, but it made Mo Ran's back feel cold.
He paced in the long walkway. It was half hell and half heaven. Good and evil were clearly distinguished. On his left was laughter, and on his right was painful moans.
He walked forward, as if he was walking through water and fire, light and shadow. He looked to his left and saw hundreds of butterflies fluttering in the air and clusters of flowers. A stream of water flowed out from behind a pillar, and there was clear wine flowing in it. Beside the wine stream, some people were reading books leisurely, some were reciting poems, children were laughing, and women were lying on their bed in a drunken stupor.
He looked to his right. The cauldron was boiling hot, and the fire was boiling oil. Writhing bodies were doused in boiling oil, and their tongues were pulled out and pierced through their hearts. People cursed and tore at each other, and their eyes flashed with a cold light like that of a wild beast.
He also saw the former Abbot of Wubei Temple, the old monk who had single-handedly plotted the conspiracy behind the Holy Mountain Conference. He was surrounded by three people, each holding a small, rusty knife in their hands. They were cutting his face, legs, and chest separately. Cut after cut, the flesh that was cut quickly recovered, and the cycle repeated. The old monk kept screaming, but it was only a roar of unknown meaning. His rumor-making tongue had long been torn off.
The more Mo Ran walked, the more he shuddered.
He didn't even want to look around anymore. Crying, laughing, angry, happy.
A woman on the left was chanting softly, "Life and death, lonely and cold life. A lover can't call out his lover's response … "
On the right, a woman was being bitten by a vicious dog and was screaming.
Half of his peripheral vision saw light, and the other half saw darkness. The light and darkness were absolute, like chess pieces on a chessboard. Black and white faced each other, and good and evil were clear.
Mo Ran only felt a splitting headache.
He stood in the middle. He simply stopped and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the scene of the nine heavens and purgatory mixing.
He stood in the same place, waiting for the large group who was not as fast as him to catch up.
"Falling leaves startle the remnant dream, leisurely strolling in the fragrant dust, counting the falling red …"
"No! Don't do this to me again! I beg you! Save me … save me … "
But the voices on both sides were endless, like arrows, penetrating the wood.
He heard Luo Xianxian saying gently to her husband, "Chen Lang, the orange flowers in the courtyard have bloomed. I'll take you to see them, okay?"
He heard the former leader of Jiang Dongtang, Qin Shi, laughing crazily, "Adultery? Hahahaha, yes, I'm adulterous with Nangong Liu! I'm a slut, a whore, I'm a slut, a poisonous woman — I killed my own husband, I want to be the leader — hahahaha, all of you come and see my true face, see that I'm an ugly bitch, ahahahaha … "
Everything was gathered together.
The living, the dead.
Reality or illusion?
Was it black or white, good or evil?
The voices around him gradually rose and fell like tides. He seemed to see two giant dragons breaking out of the water, and the moonlight shone on their cold and wet scales.
Were those two evil dragons?
No, those were his two spirits.
They began to fight again, roaring and spitting dragon's breath, biting and colliding fiercely.
The earth shook and the mountains shook.
Mo Ran couldn't stand the crazy noise. He covered his ears, but he still couldn't block out the two chaotic voices. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. He raised his hand and was about to cast a spell of silence.
He suddenly opened his eyes.
The scene around him disappeared.
Mo Ran was terrified.
He was stunned on the spot — what happened? Why did the scene around him disappear?
Where was he?
Why was it so dark everywhere? It was a boundless darkness …
Was this an illusion set by Xu Shuanglin?
Mo Ran looked around, but there was nothing, only darkness.
He walked a few steps and tried to call out, "Master?"
"Xue Meng?"
"Is someone coming?"
No one answered him. It was dark, as dark as death.
Even though he had seen countless storms, this kind of darkness was still terrifying. He walked forward, and goosebumps appeared on his arms. He walked forward …
Suddenly, he saw a faint white light in front of him, which seemed to be the exit.
He walked towards that place.
Suddenly, figures appeared around him, and he couldn't see their faces clearly, but he heard those people's ravings, and they knelt down in front of him like a tide.
Those people were chanting, and their voices were low, and they gathered into a rumbling river —
"Congratulations to the Emperor Ta, and may he live as long as the heavens."
Emperor Ta?
No … no!
He stammered, he trembled, and he shuddered. He tried his best to run forward, but it seemed like there were thousands of hands coming from all directions, trying to catch him.
"Your Majesty —"
"Emperor Ta will be blessed for eternity."
"Longevity is endless, and blessings never end."
Mo Ran was driven crazy. He tried his best to break free from those invisible hands, and he ran towards the light, "No, it's not me … go away … all of you go away!"
"Emperor Ta …"
But those voices followed him like shadows, and Mo Ran began to think that Xu Shuanglin had gathered the souls and evil spirits of the World of Spirits and Souls, and at this moment, they were all out to catch him, a ghost who had escaped.
"Why are you leaving, Your Majesty?"
"Your Majesty, your Majesty …"
Mo Ran staggered, and his eyes flashed with a crazy light. He wanted to leave, but all the evil spirits were trapping him. He was forced to be trapped, and he had no way to escape, so he suddenly became angry. He turned his head angrily, and suddenly, he pulled out his sword and slashed those shadows into pieces of darkness.
His face was like a wolf or a leopard, and he was almost ferocious.
"Get lost!" he roared, "All of you get lost! Get lost! "
As soon as his voice fell, his face turned pale.
He heard the people around him murmuring and snickering, "Your Majesty?"
"He said 'Your Majesty' … Yes … He said 'Your Majesty' …"
"Your Majesty, where did we go wrong? You should know who you are in your heart, and where you came from. You can't escape. "
Mo Ran held his sword and retreated, shaking his head, "No, it's not like that … It's not like that …"
The black smoke that he had cut into pieces gathered again, and a blurry shadow fell in front of him, closing in on him step by step.
The shadow said softly, "What's not like?"
"I'm not the Emperor Ta!"
"How are you not the Emperor Ta?" The voice was ethereal and soft, like thin smoke curling up in the summer, "Of course you are. Every injustice has its perpetrator, and every debt has its debtor. Only you, you can't escape …"
"But it's over!" Mo Ran stared at the shadow, "It's over! The Emperor Ta has already died in front of the Tower of Babel, and it has nothing to do with me if he enters the tomb! I just … I just … "
The shadow smiled gently, as delicate as a flower stamen, "You just what?"
Mo Ran was speechless.
"You're just a soul that returned?" It asked, "You're just a physical body with a memory? You're just an innocent life that lives in the Emperor Ta's shadow? Or … you're just a dream? "
If it could be said that he was angry and scared before, after this sentence, Mo Ran's emotions were like ice, and the blood in his body froze.
He was almost at a loss, and did not react. He wanted to speak, but for a long time, he could not form a complete sentence. When he opened his mouth, his voice was dry, and he could only dig out a broken word, "… Dream?"
"You've always thought that you were reborn, but who can say for sure? Do you really think that it's true? At this moment, is the real you, or me? " The blurry smoke surrounded him, becoming clearer and clearer, "You said that you died in front of the Tower of Babel, but you're standing here alive … Are you really dead?"
Mo Ran stared at the black smoke.
He was no longer trembling, but he felt cold, as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and stepped into a bottomless abyss.
It was so cold.
Was he really dead?
The desolation of the Witch Mountain Palace seemed to still be in his bones, and the flames of the uprising of the ten great sects were like long snakes that slithered from the foot of the mountain, trying to bite off his neck.
Xue Meng seemed to be standing in front of him just a moment ago, with tears in his eyes, and said fiercely, "Mo Ran, give me back my teacher."
Was he really dead?
He remembered that he took the poison, and the poison pierced through his heart and lungs. He staggered to the front of the Tower of Babel, and with the last of his strength, he crawled into the grave and lay down in the coffin.
The begonia flowers bloomed gently, and the light of the sky and the shadows of the clouds lingered.
He closed his eyes …
"Then you opened your eyes. You went back to the year when you were sixteen years old, to the time when everything could still be salvaged, right? "
The black shadow seemed to be able to see through his heart, and whispered with a low laugh.
Ye Wangxi didn't die, and neither did Shi Mingjing. You've seen through your own thoughts. You've fallen in love with Chu Wanning. You've become Grandmaster Mo, and he's finally accepted you. You thought you were free. Now, you're the leader of the rebel army, Daoist Qingzheng, and the young hero of the generation who's going to arrest the leader of the evil tyrants, Xu Shuanglin — "
There was a deathly silence.
The blood vessels on Mo Ran's neck were pulsating, along with his intense heartbeat.
The black shadow did not have a face, but it was staring at him. He knew it was staring at him.
"You wish."
The cold sword pierced his heart, and the poisonous fangs pierced his neck.
Mo Ran could hear despair spreading in his body, spreading like a poison, just like the deadly poison he took when he was thirty-two years old. It spread … into his liver and gallbladder … into his heart …
"You didn't come back to life at all. Everyone is dead. Xue Meng is still alive, but he hates you very much," the black shadow said. "Now you have woken up from your dream. Open your eyes, Emperor Ta. You are still the Lord of Darkness."
"No …" Mo Ran heard someone speak. The voice was so weak and broken, as if it had been broken down countless times and then glued back together. Then he was surprised to find that the person who said this was actually himself. "No …"
He urged the courage in every inch of his bones and every drop of his blood. He opened his eyes, and there was a burst of madness in them.
"You are lying! Absolutely impossible! Impossible! "
He gathered his sword and slashed, panting furiously.
The cloud of black smoke dispersed again.
But its voice did not disperse. It was laughing in a low voice. "Lie? But Your Majesty, why don't you look down and see what you are holding in your hand?"