Hearing the Child's assessment, Daoist Jiuyou gave a wry smile. He said,
"Master Ancestor, the Skyveil Hall you bequeathed is truly strange. For generations, the Sect Masters of the Skyveil Sect have been in charge of it.
We have faithfully followed the founder's precepts, severing worldly connections and cleansing ourselves of all worldly temptations in each generation. Yet, despite this, the Skyveil Hall has consistently shown us nothing but disdain. This disciple held stewardship over the Hall for many years."
Jiuyou continued. "Beyond using it as a place for cultivation and as a defense against foes, I could never discover any of the Skyveil Hall's deeper functions."
"Absurd!" These words, however, merely elicited a soft snort from the Child, yet the implied displeasure was enough to make Daoist Jiuyou instantly drop to his knees.
But then the Child sighed again, waving a dismissive hand. "Which fool was it," he demanded, "who told you the Way of cultivation requires severing all connection to the mortal world?! One hundred and thirty thousand years ago, the Azure Cloud region faced utter peril! We cultivators of that era stood united as one! If we had all truly cut ourselves off from the world, if everyone had ignored Azure Cloud region's fate, how could the Azure Cloud region you know possibly exist today?!"
"Still, I cannot entirely blame you," the Child softened slightly. "Unaware of the events of that era, you naturally could not grasp the Skyveil Hall's true nature." As he spoke, the Child seemed lost in memory, his expression filling with profound reminiscence.
"Back then, Azure Cloud region stood on the very edge of annihilation," the Child recounted, his voice calm but heavy with old memories. "The Wu Clan, wielding a fearsome treasure, pressed us hard. Our Azure Cloud region forces were left with no choice but to keep retreating, step by step, giving ground at every turn."
His gaze grew distant as he continued, "In the end, there was only one path left to us—we gathered the combined strength of the entire commandery. Every cultivator, no matter their rank, contributed their personal spirit artifacts and treasures. They poured in their painstaking effort, their life's work. It took three whole centuries of this relentless struggle before the Skyveil Hall was finally forged into existence!"
Hearing this, Daoist Jiuyou felt the blood drain from his face.
He struggled to imagine just how desperate that era must have been, for so many proud cultivators to willingly surrender their hard-earned spirit treasures for the sake of a collective cause.
The sheer scale of that sacrifice left him breathless.
The Child continued speaking, "Even reduced to a mere frame of its former self, the Skyveil Hall nevertheless remains an exceptionally rare Spirit Object. Over time, it developed a consciousness of its own, yet it still remembers the events of that distant era. Heh." The Child scoffed. "Severing worldly ties, you say? Without the determination to shoulder responsibility for all, without a spirit that drives ever forward, I doubt the Skyveil Hall would even spare you a single glance!"
With the Child's explanation, Daoist Jiuyou finally understood. "No wonder... no wonder!" Jiuyou lamented. "All this time, generation after generation, we took the wrong approach! It's no surprise the Skyveil Hall consistently treated us with disdain!"
The Child let out a soft sigh, a trace of melancholy flickering in his ancient eyes.
"That Skyveil Hall," he asked, "where is it now?"
"It was taken by my disciple," Daoist Jiuyou replied.
Just moments ago, Jiuyou had been weighed down by sorrow—but now, a faint smile broke across his face.
"At this very moment," he said, "that disciple of mine—and his family, the Li Clan—are fighting to protect the Azure Cloud region. And now that the Skyveil Hall has come into his hands… perhaps he will finally unlock its true power. It may not be impossible after all."
"Oh?" The Child arched a brow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You seem quite confident in this disciple of yours."
"Yes, Master Ancestor."
Daoist Jiuyou's smile deepened as memories of Li Yunlin's struggles flashed through his mind.
"That disciple of mine… he has been hounded by disaster since his youth, plagued by misfortune at every turn. Among the Li family, his natural talent is no more than average, nothing remarkable. And over the years, repeated hardships have pushed him into despair more than once."
Jiuyou's gaze turned firm.
"But I know this much: Yunlin carries the true bloodline of the Li family. And more importantly, he is someone who treasures loyalty and sentiment above all else."
He drew a deep breath and declared,
"There will come a day when he breaks free from the shadows of his past. And when that day comes… he will become the disciple I am proudest of."
"That," Jiuyou declared, "will be the day he emerges transformed, like a butterfly breaking its cocoon!"
Seeing the firm conviction etched on Daoist Jiuyou's face, the Child gave a slight nod. "If that is so," he said, "then I, too, genuinely hope to witness the day that disciple of yours fulfills his potential."
"That day will come." Daoist Jiuyou smiled, then seemed to collect himself for a moment. "Ah, Master Ancestor," he inquired respectfully, "Regarding the Skyveil Hall... what is its true function, actually?"
"That is a..."
"Weapon!"
...
"Clang!!!"
Within the Tian Xing Cultivator Abode, as Li Yunlin cried out, "Skyveil Hall, aid me!", the unmistakable sound of grinding metal suddenly echoed! Behind Li Yunlin, the black heavenly screen manifestation of the Skyveil Hall flickered. The Asura and blazing flames previously seen within it vanished, leaving behind only an endless, profound depth.
At that moment, the expression of Nangong Yazhi – still shimmering with the golden light powered by ambient Spirit Qi – changed yet again. The Skyveil Hall seemed to fall dormant. The flames enveloping Li Yunlin began to recede; he had apparently exhausted his spiritual power in the failed assault. Even his signature wondrous object, the Nine Spirit Fire, flickered as if about to disperse entirely.
However, that soft hum still emanating from the Skyveil Hall gave Nangong Yazhi pause, instilling a faint sense of crisis. It made her hesitant to press the attack against Li Yunlin just yet; she sensed some profound terror lurking!
However, just because she sensed the lurking danger didn't mean the sole surviving Nangong Elder shared her perception. Having already been wounded by Nangong Yazhi, this Elder was now terrified she might finish him off. He was desperately seeking an opportunity to prove his loyalty and thereby save his own skin.
Though he had been momentarily startled by Li Yunlin's earlier surge of power, the Nangong Elder quickly saw through it, realizing that Li Yunlin was now little more than a spent force.
Gritting his teeth against his own injuries, the Elder floated upward once more, deliberately positioning himself in front of Nangong Yazhi.
Staring at Li Yunlin with a malicious grin, he addressed Nangong Yazhi directly,
"Why waste your strength on such a trivial matter? This Li family whelp dared to offend the favored daughter of our Nangong clan! Allow me to finish him off and take this dog's worthless life for you—right here, right now!"
Nangong Yazhi frowned faintly. Of course, she could see through the Elder's true intentions. Still, she merely offered a thin smile and took a small step back, silently recalling her spirit artifacts. With a calm gaze, she watched as the Elder advanced toward Li Yunlin.
High above, Li Yunlin still hovered in the air, his body hunched over, bloodied and battered—like a lone wolf, wounded but not yet fallen.
And then… Nangong Yazhi witnessed a scene she would never forget for the rest of her life.
The Nangong Elder gathered the Spirit Qi of Heaven and Earth, his aura flaring as he activated his killing technique.
With a roar, he summoned his Life-Bound Spirit Artifact—a gleaming Golden Spear—and lunged straight at Li Yunlin, aiming to strike the final blow.
Kacha… kacha… kacha…
The sound of cracking rang out, sharp and clear.
Behind Li Yunlin, the illusory image of the Skyveil Hall suddenly began to fracture, splitting apart, shattering inch by inch like breaking glass!
At that moment, the battered lone wolf raised his head.
His proud, unyielding eyes burned with defiance, refusing to bow, refusing to break.
Catching sight of Li Yunlin's star-like eyes, Nangong Yazhi couldn't suppress a violent shudder that ran through her entire body.
Fragmenting... Everything was breaking apart!
The Nangong Elder's spearhead had reached within inches of Li Yunlin's chest, yet there it stopped, seeming frozen solid, as if caught in time itself, completely unable to move forward even a fraction. Behind him, the Skyveil Hall—that manifestation like a deep night sky brimming with stars, transformed into fragment after fragment. These fragments slowly drifted to orbit around Li Yunlin. It was the sheer overwhelming pressure emanating from this fragmenting artifact that completely immobilized the Peak Nascent Soul Elder, rendering him unable to move!
In that instant, the very world seemed to lose its color; everything felt utterly still. The Skyveil Hall, revealing itself as the terrifyingly fearsome weapon it truly was, was finally emerging!
These fragments of the Skyveil Hall seemed possessed of an incomparable pride. Slowly, they drifted to Li Yunlin's side and coalesced, transforming into a mighty polearm!
It was no ordinary weapon, but an ornate halberd: a long spearhead gleamed at its tip, while two crescent blades curved outward beneath it.
"What is this? What in the heavens is this?!?"
The pupils of the Nangong Elder dilated uncontrollably; no one felt the sheer terror radiating from that polearm more directly than he did. The weapon itself held the profound depth of the starry cosmos. Points of starlight glittered along the halberd's length. The sheer pressure radiating from it felt identical to the suppression from Nangong Yazhi's millstone Dharma Body, leaving him utterly unable to move a single inch!
No... This was even more terrifying than her millstone!
Li Yunlin's voice sounded, completely devoid of any discernible emotion. However, he wasn't looking at the immobilized Elder; instead, his gaze was fixed intently upon Nangong Yazhi, who was already preparing her retreat!
"Now then..." Li Yunlin asked softly, "Who is the frog at the bottom of the well?"
"And who is the worthless trash?!"
---
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