Chapter 14: Tower to the Heavens  

Another streak of blood appeared on Su Han Sheng’s cheek.  

A withered branch extended near his ear, rustling faintly. Moonlight spilled through the dense tangle of dead branches, casting a cold and eerie glow on his pale face, shrouded in flickering shadows.  

Zhuang Lingxiu was about to rise.  

Su Han Sheng spoke, “Senior Brother Zhuang.”  

“What?”  

Su Han Sheng closed his eyes slightly, as if observing something through his Lifebound Tree. “Someone has left, heading toward… Senior Brother Zhuang, what lies beside the Flower Dock Spirit Mustard Seed?”  

Zhuang Lingxiu froze, his expression shifting instantly.  

“That’s the helm.”  

The intruder had already stolen the Attendant Seal, entering the Helm Spirit Mustard Seed as if it were unguarded.  

If he took control of the helm and forced the Tower Ship to descend, the terrain below was a range of towering mountains. Should the ship lose control and crash into a peak, no one aboard would survive.  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s expression darkened.  

Su Han Sheng remained with his eyes closed and suddenly said, “Senior Brother Zhuang, give me the Attendant Seal.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu was taken aback.  

“The Lifebound Tree is enough to protect me,” Su Han Sheng said. “I can use the Attendant Seal to enter the Spirit Mustard Seed and stop him from altering the helm’s course.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu hissed, “Nonsense! A Nascent Soul’s strike is no trivial matter. If anything happens to you, Bu Bei will tear me apart alive!”  

“They’re too far away. Even if you strike with your sword, Senior Brother, you can’t kill two Nascent Souls simultaneously.” Su Han Sheng’s lashes trembled like a dying butterfly, yet his youthful voice was unnervingly calm. “We can’t let him change the helm’s course, or everyone aboard this ship will be in mortal danger.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu found himself unable to refute, but the situation was dire—there was no time for hesitation.  

“Fine.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu acted decisively, wasting no words. He tossed the golden Attendant Seal to Su Han Sheng and drew his sword, ready to move.  

“Senior Brother Zhuang,” Su Han Sheng called out again, opening his eyes.  

Zhuang Lingxiu steadied himself against the woven net of dead branches, glancing down at Su Han Sheng amidst the flickering flames.  

Su Han Sheng, who had remained unflappable from start to finish, now said,  

“I can’t defeat a Nascent Soul. Remember to come save me.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu tightened his grip on his sword, staring at Su Han Sheng in stunned silence.  

The Tower Ship rocked violently, yet he stood firm as an unshakable mountain. After a moment, he suddenly let out a soft laugh. “Understood.”  

With that, his figure vanished like the wind.  

Moments later, the vast deck trembled violently from the clash of Nascent Souls. The collision of spiritual forces reduced the Lifebound Trees rooted across the ship to dust.  

Su Han Sheng gathered the dense web of withered branches around him. With a light step, he silently descended along the Lifebound Tree to the side of the Flower Dock Spirit Mustard Seed. Using the Attendant Seal, he slipped inside the Spirit Mustard Seed without resistance.  

The helm was carved with an intricate Eight Trigrams Formation and countless Talisman Magic Patterns—far too complex for the black-clad Nascent Soul to fully master. When he noticed someone entering—and a mere Qi Refining Stage cultivator at that—murderous intent flared in his eyes.  

“A Qi Refining Stage dares to come here? Seeking death.”  

A blood-red withered branch suddenly sprouted from the wooden table beneath the helm’s Talismans, shooting toward the black-clad Nascent Soul’s abdomen.  

The Nascent Soul sneered, unafraid of such a weakling, and raised a hand to block.  

*Crack.*  

The branch shattered into four pieces.  

Pathetically fragile.  

The Nascent Soul scoffed, about to strike the intruder down, when the four broken crimson branches suddenly coiled around his limbs like living vines, binding him tightly.  

The Nascent Soul raised an eyebrow, intending to break free with spiritual power—but when he activated his Nascent Core, not a wisp of energy responded.  

For the first time, a trace of shock flickered across his previously disdainful face.

That was clearly a withered branch, yet as it coiled around his wrists and ankles, he distinctly felt a viscous, dripping moisture sliding down.

Blood?

The black-clad Nascent Soul cultivator’s expression drastically changed.

How could a Qi Refining Stage cultivator possess such eerie spiritual power?!

Su Han Sheng stood suspended in midair, bare feet resting upon the withered branches, a plain robe embroidered with lotus patterns draped over his shoulders. He curved his eyes into a smile, the bloodstains on his cheeks a vivid crimson, exuding a fragile yet striking beauty like that of battle wounds.

“What did you mean earlier by ‘beheading’?” he asked.

The black-clad Nascent Soul cultivator’s face darkened. Instead of answering, he countered, “Who are you?”

The Nascent Soul cultivator’s cultivation was too high. Not daring to underestimate him, Su Han Sheng immediately employed a “life-draining” Move to forcibly restrain the man, lest he be counterattacked.

A slender withered branch reached forward and lifted the black-clad Nascent Soul’s mask.

…revealing a deathly pale face, unaccustomed to sunlight.

The Nascent Soul cultivator instinctively flinched away from the light as if afraid.

“Who is the person you mentioned who ordered you to behead someone?” Su Han Sheng repeated.

The black-clad Nascent Soul stared fixedly at Su Han Sheng, as if his face seemed familiar.

“That mad dog Su Xuan Lin… what is he to you?”

Su Han Sheng raised an eyebrow slightly.

The elders of Echoing Warmth Sect, who treated every casual word of Su Xuan Lin as gospel, always praised the Profound Advent Immortal Lord with lofty terms like “radiant as the sun” and “jade-like virtue,” using the most profound compliments to revere him.

This was the first time Su Han Sheng had heard someone curse the Profound Advent Immortal Lord…

“Mad dog.”

Quite novel.

Before Su Han Sheng could answer, the man suddenly realized: “A Soulbound Spirit… Hah, you’re Su Xuan Lin’s son.”

Growing impatient, Su Han Sheng flicked his fingers. The withered branches binding the man’s limbs instantly tightened, leaving deep bloody marks as countless tiny roots burrowed into his flesh, anchoring into his bones.

“I’ll ask one last time—who is that person?”

The black-clad man’s face paled, but he managed a strained smile. “A sage of my clan—do you think you’re worthy of knowing?”

Su Han Sheng’s hand paused.

Clan… sage?

As the roots drilled deeper into his bones, the black-clad Nascent Soul cultivator seemed to realize escape was impossible. His pupils suddenly turned a ferocious crimson, as if bewitched, and with a final burst of strength, he wrenched free—snapping his wrists clean off, blood gushing forth.

He struggled toward the ship’s helm, covered in Talismans.

Su Han Sheng frowned slightly. The Lifebound Tree surged forward instantly, its withered branch infused with Phoenix Bone heartblood piercing the man’s chest in a vicious arc.

Though the Phoenix Bone brought agony when activated, it was, after all, one of the four Heavenly Dao Artifacts. Having resided in his bones for years, even his blood could transform the withered branches into the sharpest of blades.

Unbreakable.

The black-clad Nascent Soul, as if possessed, laughed maniacally between coughs of blood: “Open the Avici Hell Realm Gate! The gate…”

Su Han Sheng froze.

Only a Heavenly Dao Artifact could open the Avici Hell Realm Gate. Were these people from Avici Hell?

Suddenly, a crisp sound reached his ears—

The activation of an Eight Trigrams Formation.

Su Han Sheng stiffened, whipping his head toward the helm, his pupils trembling.

The black-clad Nascent Soul had deciphered the Talisman patterns on the helm?!

The Eight Trigrams Formation spun wildly without anyone’s control, soon settling on a direction.

Southwest.

Abruptly, the Tower Ship, which had just stabilized, lurched violently again. A dull creaking groan echoed as everyone staggered, their heads spinning as they tumbled forward.

The Tower Ship had completely reversed course, now plunging steeply toward the thick clouds below!

The black-robed Nascent Soul cultivator had already perished, yet his body eerily glowed with a bloody light.

Su Han Sheng frowned deeply, leaping forward to try and take control of the helm to correct the ship’s course. However, he was utterly clueless about formations, his hands raising and lowering uncertainly, completely at a loss on how to proceed.

Just then, a surge of spiritual energy rippled through the Spirit Mustard.

Zhuang Lingxiu, covered in blood, hurried over. Seeing that Su Han Sheng was unharmed, he immediately let out a sigh of relief, his knees nearly buckling beneath him.

The last Nascent Soul cultivator had been exceptionally troublesome.

Several times, Zhuang Lingxiu had thought, “Let’s just perish together,” or “Better to expend my life—it’d be simpler.” But each time, he recalled Su Han Sheng’s pitiful, pleading expression as he begged, “Remember to come save me,” and it was as if he’d been injected with adrenaline, charging forward to fight for his life.

Zhuang Lingxiu barely managed to slay the Nascent Soul cultivator.

—Though, truthfully, it was also sheer luck. After a prolonged battle, both men were exhausted. Just as they were about to deliver the final blow, the Tower Ship’s helm suddenly turned downward, and the unfortunate Nascent Soul was swept aside by the ship’s paddle, plummeting toward the abyss below.

The black-robed Nascent Soul reacted swiftly, grabbing onto a rope and barely clinging to the edge.

Zhuang Lingxiu’s eyes flickered. To everyone’s surprise, he sheathed his sword and stood calmly at the ship’s edge, extending a hand toward the man.

The black-robed Nascent Soul stared at him in shock, unable to believe this man intended to save him. “You…”

Zhuang Lingxiu’s face was streaked with blood, yet his gaze remained gentle and warm. “Students of Enlightenment Academy uphold benevolence, frugality, and humility. We never claim victory through underhanded means.”

A trace of shame flickered across the Nascent Soul’s face, but he was utterly drained of spiritual energy and on the verge of collapse. With his last strength, he reached out toward Zhuang Lingxiu.

Just as their hands were about to meet, Zhuang Lingxiu’s fingers casually shifted to the side.

The black-robed Nascent Soul, who had poured all his remaining strength into that desperate grasp, suddenly found himself clutching empty air. His eyes widened in disbelief.

“Ah.” Zhuang Lingxiu still wore that gentle smile. Under the man’s incredulous stare, he straightened leisurely and sighed. “You look to be at least a hundred years old. How are you even more naive than us students?”

The man: “???”

Without another word, Zhuang Lingxiu formed a blade with his fingers and casually severed the rope.

The man: “…”

A sudden weightlessness seized him as he plummeted, his furious scream echoing through the clouds.

“YOU SON OF A—!”

Zhuang Lingxiu, long accustomed to such curses, turned and picked up his sword. As he glanced up, he noticed the new students within the Spirit Mustard Seed, shielded by the giant eagle, staring at him with mixed expressions.

Zhuang Lingxiu raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

The students jolted, immediately breaking into applause.

“Senior Zhuang is amazing!”

“Praise Senior Zhuang!”

Zhuang Lingxiu chuckled and dashed into the Helm Spirit Mustard Seed.

Su Han Sheng exhaled in relief at the sight of him. “Senior Brother, I don’t know how to steer this helm.”

“It’s fine.” Zhuang Lingxiu steadied himself against the doorframe, his face paling from the excruciating pain in his organs. Even his high tolerance couldn’t mask his agony as he forced himself forward step by step. “I can do it.”

Zhuang Lingxiu was just one step away from the helm.

The faint red glow emanating from the blood-soaked black-robed Nascent Soul suddenly flared violently, as if triggered by something.

Su Han Sheng’s Lifebound Tree, ever-vigilant, caught the flicker in his peripheral vision. His heart lurched.

A dead man could still detonate his Spirit Pill?!

Su Han Sheng reacted instantly, lunging toward Zhuang Lingxiu.

“Senior Brother!”

In the next moment, the Nascent Soul’s Spirit Pill exploded in a burst of crimson mist. The Lifebound Tree swiftly wrapped itself around Su Han Sheng and the unprepared Zhuang Lingxiu, layer upon layer, shielding them completely.

**Boom—**  

The massive Spirit Mustard exploded into fragments, leaving the ground scorched and cracked.  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s ears rang as he belatedly realized what had happened. He hurriedly checked on Su Han Sheng, relieved to see that aside from his pale face, the boy was unharmed.  

If anything happened to the young master, Xu Nan Xian would likely lose his mind.  

The Tower Ship was still plummeting rapidly, its rudder destroyed, making it impossible to steer.  

Zhuang Lingxiu frowned deeply.  

The enemies had all perished, and a few new disciples stumbled out from the Spirit Mustard beneath the giant eagle’s wings. Seeing their senior attendants sprawled in the wreckage, they clumsily rushed to tend to their injuries.  

Su Han Sheng, leaning weakly against a withered branch, suddenly perked up and pointed.  

“Senior Brother Zhuang, is that a shadow?”  

Zhuang Lingxiu followed his gaze, and his pupils constricted sharply.  

Amid the dense clouds in the distance stood a towering black silhouette, stretching endlessly into the sky like a pillar holding up the heavens.  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s usually composed expression finally cracked.  

That was no shadow.  

—It was the Heaven Reaching Pagoda of Buzhou Mountain, piercing the sky!  

The Tower Ship, uncontrollable, was hurtling straight toward the pagoda.  

Zhuang Lingxiu sprang to his feet, summoning wisps of spiritual energy with great effort. With a flick of his Attendant Seal, the energy dispersed outward in a flurry.  

“The Enlightenment Academy’s Tower Ship is about to collide with the Heaven Reaching Pagoda. Fellow Daoists at the Beacon Tower, we request immediate assistance!”  

But it was already too late.  

With the rudder destroyed, there was no way to control the ship’s speed or direction. The colossal pagoda loomed before them.  

The massive Tower Ship, compared to the Heaven Reaching Pagoda of Buzhou Mountain, was like a mayfly facing a giant tree. An indescribable pressure and terror bore down on them, causing the new disciples’ legs to buckle in fear.  

Even Zhuang Lingxiu felt a rare surge of despair.  

Meanwhile, Su Han Sheng clung to the ship’s bow, gazing up at the visually terrifying pagoda in awe. “This is my first time seeing the Heaven Reaching Pagoda! Senior Brother Zhuang, the books say Mahayana cultivators can use it to ascend to the Immortal Realm and become Immortals. Is that true?”  

Zhuang Lingxiu: “…”  

Zhuang Lingxiu couldn’t tell if the boy was simply carefree or genuinely unafraid of death, but he still answered gently, “Yes, silly child. We’ll be ascending through the pagoda soon too.”  

The others: “…”  

You two… really don’t know how to speak like normal people, do you?  

The giant eagle swooped down, and Zhuang Lingxiu quickly ordered everyone into the Spirit Mustard to escape, roughly tossing the severely injured attendants inside as well.  

A few of the attendants, barely conscious, still managed to curse him.  

“Zhuang, you bastard, you’ll die a horrible death.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu ignored them.  

The Heaven Reaching Pagoda was now within reach. He had thought there would be enough time to board the Spirit Mustard and flee, but before he could get everyone on, the ship’s bow suddenly scraped against something with a deafening screech.  

The Tower Ship shuddered violently.  

Zhuang Lingxiu, who had been moving people on the deck, whipped around in horror.  

He had forgotten one crucial detail—  

The Heaven Reaching Pagoda was surrounded by a Barrier.  

The ship had already collided with the Barrier. In less than ten breaths, it would be crushed to dust, killing everyone aboard.  

Zhuang Lingxiu made a swift decision and shouted at the giant eagle, “Go!”  

The eagle let out a piercing cry and spread its wings to take flight.  

—But it was too late.  

Just as the entire Tower Ship was about to be pulverized, a faint, resigned sigh echoed from the Spirit Mustard on the top deck.  

In that instant, time itself seemed to freeze.

The half-destroyed tower ship seemed to be controlled by an uncontrollable surge of spiritual power, slowly retreating and narrowly avoiding the tragedy of crashing into the barrier in an instant.

The survivors, having narrowly escaped death, sat in stunned silence, their minds still reeling from the near-death experience, their gazes vacant.

Even the giant eagle dared not move.

Su Han Sheng couldn’t care less about his brush with death, tilting his head to look toward the top floor.

Wasn’t this supposed to be about following the will of heaven?

Zhuang Lingxiu gasped for breath, his expression dazed.

In the urgency of the situation, he had almost forgotten…

The World Honored One of Mount Sumeru, the only man in the Three Realms who could rival the Profound Advent Immortal Lord, was on the top floor.

***

In the vast Spirit Mustard space of the top floor, a small incense burner wafted tendrils of white smoke, serene and peaceful—a stark contrast to the chaos and wreckage below.

Moonlight poured like water through the half-open window, illuminating Chong Jue’s cold and detached features.

A fierce wind rushed in, tossing his dark hair and plain robes.

…Amidst the fluttering fabric, faint traces of slender chains could be glimpsed intertwining.

Chong Jue stood by the window frame, the prayer beads in his hand now still. In the void behind him, several slender chains engraved with intricate runes coiled around his spine. Upon closer inspection, those eerie chains even pierced through his wrists and legs.

The chains were no thicker than a little finger, yet they bore countless densely carved ancient symbols resembling Restrictions, evoking fear at a mere glance.

Though the chains appeared impossibly heavy, they also seemed weightless, stretching endlessly into the horizon, swaying like willow catkins in the wind.

Chong Jue slowly closed his eyes.

His inner Dao quietly withdrew its spiritual power, and as the wind stilled, his plain robes and long hair settled gently.

…The traces of those chains had vanished without a trace.