Chapter 1571 — Sword Dao Ascends to the Heaven Beyond Heaven

It was a sword born of Kaihuang's purest sword dao, and a sword transmuted from his heart of the Dao once he had washed away all worldly adornment and washed away the guilt that lay within it.

The Sword of No Sorrow stood for the Land of No Sorrow: with his own sword dao as the blueprint, he had forged the Thirty-Three Heavens of the Land of No Sorrow, hidden the Land of No Sorrow within the Sword of No Sorrow, and carried it into the Void of the Far Shore. To forge the Land of No Sorrow and to move the Kaihuang Heavenly Court into it had been the most important decision of his life, and a right decision, but it was likewise the decision most decried by others.

Now the Sword of No Sorrow had shattered, yet this was no denial of himself on Kaihuang's part. He had never believed that he had done wrong; he believed only that he had not done well enough, that his deeds had failed the people of the Kaihuang era.

In that moment his sword dao sublimated.

The guilt born of his past deeds had been an obstacle holding back his heart of the Dao and his dao realm from advancing further, a thing that had become his inner demon, preventing him from taking the final step.

In outward appearance he was adamant, giving all who beheld him the sense of a heart of the Dao unshakably firm.

He was Kaihuang, whom no one could change, whom no one could break.

He was the god of the Land of No Sorrow.

So long as he stood, the Kaihuang era stood; so long as he lived, the Kaihuang era would never close.

Yet in truth he had never been a god.

He was only a man.

He too had his weakness, his hesitancy and his doubt; he too had pain upon his heart of the Dao, wounds upon his heart of the Dao, demons upon his heart of the Dao.

When Shen Mu stripped away his adamant exterior with the God-Slaying Platform and the God-Slaying Mystic Blade, peeled open his heart of the Dao, laid it bare layer after layer until his original heart was exposed, that was when the pain and the demons of his heart of the Dao were at their most violent, and when he was easiest to break.

Yet it was likewise the hour when his heart of the Dao ascended. To keep the tragedy from repeating itself, he had to wash away the pain and the demons of his heart of the Dao, wash away the guilt upon it, so that in the years to come there would be no more such guilt and no more such regret. The Sword of No Sorrow in his hand shattered; his heart of the Dao ascended; he took his original heart as his sword.

The instant that sword was complete, all his sword dao fused into one.

Upon the God-Slaying Platform, the hues of blood and the light of the blade were drowned and shattered by the radiance of that dao-sword; within the bloody glare the God-Slaying Mystic Blade in Shen Mu's hand broke inch by inch, forcing him to retreat and fight with all his strength, and yet that sword-light was like the sword dao itself, leaving no gap unentered, so that in an instant he was covered in countless wounds. Shen Mu had no choice but to withdraw from the God-Slaying Platform, and yet the sword radiance upon it only grew fiercer and vaster, layer upon layer of sword dao swelling, sweeping across the heaven and earth of the Land of No Sorrow, battering the Void of the Far Shore until even that void could no longer conceal such piercing keenness.

A sword-light suddenly appeared in the void, bright and glittering, its blade shining over the great chiliocosm.

The glory of that sword dao shone upon all the heavens and the myriad worlds, so that every cultivator of the sword suddenly sensed that within the universe the sword dao had become incomparably clear, incomparably dazzling, and every cultivator of the sword suddenly beheld a figure of incomparable grandeur, a sword-light of incomparable brilliance. The sword dao was rising, sublimating, branding itself upon layer after layer of void, reaching down to the deepest place of the void, to its ultimate place. Jingping, the Wenda Academy.

The village headman was teaching the younger generation of Jingping how to use a sword, and in that moment he raised his head, his face solemn and reverent, gazing up into the void, his eyes brimming with tears. He had sensed the birth of an undying great Dao.

This was precisely the summit of the great Dao he had dreamed of all his life.

At the Ancestral Court, Jiang Baigui and Emperor Yanfeng walked one behind the other, when Jiang Baigui suddenly lifted his head with the solemnity of a pilgrim, made a distant salute, and then continued on his way. Emperor Yanfeng asked curiously, "Baigui, what are you saluting? " "I salute the one who has attained the Dao through the sword.

" Jiang Baigui's expression was grave.

"Today, someone has attained the Dao and become a monument of the sword dao.

" In that moment, wherever they might be, all who cultivated the sword dao could not help but grow solemn and reverent, and they saluted toward one and the same direction. The swords in their hands, the sword sheaths and sword caskets upon their backs, the sword pills they had raised in offering, all were rejoicing for that one who had attained the Dao, all ringing and humming.

The sword-light danced in the air, feeling the inconceivable power of that great Dao of heaven and earth.

And within the Land of No Sorrow, Yan Yunxi, Zhuo Cha, Han Tang and the other Celestial Masters looked up at that sword-light, their heroic ardor surging and swelling.

That day had finally come. Ever since the Kaihuang Heavenly Court had become the Land of No Sorrow, they had accumulated a bellyful of grievance.

Even when Shen Mu came to the Land of No Sorrow and woke its people, rekindling their will to fight, that grievance had never truly dissipated.

For they were still in a position of being beaten.

The Heavenly Court's armies of gods and demons had attacked the Taixu, occupied the lands of the Taixu, and forced them to retreat into the Void of the Far Shore, turtling up and refusing to come out.

That grievance had turned to wrath; forever turtling up, never daring to give battle, wrath indeed was in their hearts. But now Kaihuang had attained the Dao. Which meant that at last they could strike back.

In the distance, the woodcutter Wen Tiange seemed far calmer.

Watching that sword-light, he recalled a day forty thousand years ago, when he had met Kaihuang; after a long and thorough talk, he had counted him a kindred spirit.

From then on, they had set foot upon a road steeped in legend.

To attain the Dao in the post-heaven, that was the goal they had fixed at the very beginning, and now, at long last, that goal had been realized in some small measure. "But the sword dao is only the first step.

The post-heaven paths, the three hundred and sixty great Daos, those are the true aim of Kaihuang's reforms.

" By now Shen Mu had withdrawn from the God-Slaying Platform.

Kaihuang Shen Ye upon that platform exerted too great a pressure upon him; he was drenched in blood, covered in wounds, and yet his blood was flowing backward and his wounds healing at astonishing speed.

He too was a cultivator of the sword, and in that moment he sensed that the sword dao, as a great Dao, had been accepted by heaven and earth and had become a great Dao of heaven and earth.

And Kaihuang, a Heavenly Venerable of the Longhan era, one of the Nine Heavenly Venerables, now seemed likewise to be branded between heaven and earth, become eternal.

At Shen Mu's waist, the Tribulation Sword trembled faintly, giving out a light and cheerful ring; the sword dao's becoming an eternal great Dao had made the Tribulation Sword quite elated. Yet it was not Shen Mu's Tribulation Sword that thrilled, but the sword dao that Shen Mu cultivated.

"I imagine every master of the sword dao under heaven can feel this immense joy?

" Shen Mu smiled, gazing with deep gratification at Kaihuang upon the God-Slaying Platform, his heart full of pride and joy.