Chapter 2843: Refining

"Refine it for me."

On the peak of Yü Nü Feng, Ye Chen's low roars never ceased for a single day.

Three years had passed since the day he began refining.

For three years, he hadn't descended from Yü Nü Feng. His hair had turned completely white, his vital energy had grown weak and faded, and the stubble on his chin had become unusually long. Only his eyes still held an unyielding determination.

After three years, he still hadn't refined the broken sword and the small fragments. Not only was he exhausted, but even the Hùn Dùn Huǒ and Hùn Dùn Léi were dim and weary from fatigue.

"Ye Chen, stop refining."

Nán Míng Yù Shū and the others came up almost every day, persuading him each time. Continuing like this would surely damage his Dao roots.

However, Ye Chen's only response was a weary smile. The resolve in his eyes was pure obsession, just as it had been three years ago when he first climbed the peak. He wouldn't descend until it was refined. Without finding the Zhū Xiān Jiàn, this was his only way to seek a humble form of revenge.

The women felt helpless and could only raise their hands to replenish his true essence for him. Yet, the energy he expended couldn't be restored in just a day or two. It was less about obsession and more like he had become deranged.

Obsession this deep could turn into a demonic barrier.

It was another quiet night, and Ye Chen still hadn't come down.

Under the old tree, the women were all there, watching with heartache.

Three years had passed, and Ye Chen had been too reckless.

In those three years, Ye Fan and Ye Ling hadn't returned home. One was wandering through the starry skies, and the other was living as a mortal in Zhū Xiān Town. They had gone to see them once, and it broke their hearts. Especially for little Ye Ling, who had endured countless insults over the three years.

But they didn't dare interfere. That was Ye Ling's path to walk. Interfering would only harm her, and the guilt would be impossible to repay.

They could see it, and Ye Chen could see it too. Precisely because he could see it, he became even more frantic.

"You idiot, have you gone mad?"

At the base of the mountain, Xiè Yún shouted up toward the sky. Xióng Èr, Sī Tú Nán, and the others were the same—they came every day and yelled every day. No one refined like this. Before he could refine the broken sword and fragments, he would collapse first. Three years! He had persisted for three whole years—this was playing with his life.

Indeed, Ye Chen was playing with his life. He refused to believe he couldn't refine the broken sword. Even with its indestructible marks and will, he would refine it to destruction.

His hatred and anger toward the Zhū Xiān Jiàn were the source of his obsession.

"Tough, damn tough."

Xiǎo Yuán Huáng had come a few times and seen the broken sword and fragments unchanged each time, leaving him sighing in amazement. A half-step great saint body like his, driving the Hùn Dùn Huǒ and Hùn Dùn Léi day and night without rest for three years, still couldn't refine it. Even an ultimate Dao emperor weapon should tremble, but the reality was absurdly the opposite.

Not just them—even powerhouses like Dì Jī and Jiàn Shén were stunned. Just how high was the level of this Zhū Xiān Jiàn? It was unbelievably strong. Perhaps only a great emperor could refine it.

Or maybe, even a supreme being might not succeed.

In the fourth year, Ye Chen coughed up blood, but his resilient body didn't fall.

In the sixth year, the Líng Xiāo Bǎo Diàn hummed, and Ruò Xī, Chǔ Xuán, and Chǔ Líng became youthful again. The Rén Wáng guarding the place had grown accustomed to it.

In the seventh year, Piāo Miǎo Lǎo Dào triggered his emperor tribulation and was reduced to ashes. That day, the Tài Yīn Zhī Tǐ and Tài Yáng Zhī Tǐ cried inconsolably, and many others wept in grief.

In the eighth year, Lóng Wǔ and the male Yǒng Shēng Tǐ faced their final battle.

Lóng Wǔ won, merging his three souls, but the fight nearly cost him his life. At the brink of death, he forcibly unlocked his bloodline limits and defeated the Yǒng Shēng Tǐ.

That day, the Yǒng Shēng Tǐ dissolved his eternal life contract, and Lóng Wǔ took back Dōng Fāng Yù Líng. Three days later, he fused with the memory immortal light.

That night, Dōng Fāng Yù Líng's sobs echoed throughout Héng Yuè.

In the ninth year, a humming sound spread across Zhōng Zhōu.

Tiān Xū had unsealed itself.

For this, the elders of the various heavens gathered in a single day, blocking the entrance to Tiān Xū and cursing for three full days and nights.

No one knew if it was because they couldn't stand the noise or for some other reason, but on the fourth day, Tiān Xū sealed itself again.

Still, the old folks kept cursing enthusiastically.

Yet, there was no response from Tiān Xū.

In the tenth year, Wǔ Léi Chéng appeared unusually, not in the starry skies but on the domain plane. It happened to encounter the Wéi Miàn Zhī Zǐ passing by, and for some reason, they fought, giving Xī Chén a thorough beating.

To this day, the Wéi Miàn Zhī Zǐ is still hanging from a tree.

That year, countless people came to Dà Chǔ, and many gathered outside Héng Yuè Zōng.

They went to look at the peak of Yü Nü Feng, and Ye Chen was still there.

From the day he ascended Yü Nü Feng ten years ago, that once peerless war god had become utterly aged. His face had no trace of color left, and he could barely stand. His eyes no longer had pupils, obscured by crisscrossing blood vessels. The ancient saint body, which should have been brimming with life force, now looked like a dried-up corpse, like someone on the verge of death, emaciated and on the brink of collapse at any moment.

"Stop this at once."

Xuán Huáng let out a cold hum, his tone carrying the authority of an elder. He spoke as an emperor and as a father-in-law. As a peak quasi-emperor, he could see clearly that Ye Chen's Dao roots were on the edge of collapse. If he persisted, a thousand years of achievements would be wiped out in an instant.

Ye Chen said nothing and continued refining.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

The Fourth Divine General thundered, his voice like a peal of thunder.

Unfortunately, there was still no response.

"Kid, let's talk this out."

"If you don't stop, I'll start cursing like a madman."

"How about a newly acquired rare edition?"

The crowd of old folks chimed in, one after another—some cursing, some threatening, some coaxing. It was like interrogating a prisoner, using every trick from intimidation to persuasion, throwing out all sorts of words, good and bad.

The heavens had finally produced a half-step great saint, and if he fell here, it would be a waste. If he had to die, it should be on the battlefield, at least taking down an emperor with him. Dying on the path of refinement would make the ancestors of the saint body roll in their graves.

"Ye Chen, let it go!"

Jǐ Níng Shuāng and the others were already on the mountain peak, their voices choked with tears.

Ten years had passed, and Ye Chen had truly reached his limit. If he passed this point, it might be irreversible, and starting over could mean waiting for the next reincarnation.

"Trust me."

Ye Chen's words were devoid of tone, hoarse and ragged. He was so exhausted he could barely blink, but the determination in his eyes still shone with an undying light.

The Hùn Dùn Huǒ and Hùn Dùn Léi said nothing, their flames burning and lightning tearing—mere forms without true power.

Ye Chen had held on for ten years, and so had they. His Dao roots were about to shatter, and their gathered origins were on the verge of collapse. Yet, they didn't stop. As long as Ye Chen didn't speak, they would accompany him. At worst, they could start over. Not being human cultivators, it was rare for them to go all out like this.

In the void, the Rén Wáng descended from the sky, hands tucked behind his back, pacing back and forth.

"How about that rare edition?"

"Xī Chén got beaten up by Wǔ Léi Chéng."

"Take a break and let's chat somewhere."

This guy was a real chatterbox. Since landing, he hadn't stopped talking. As long as Ye Chen stopped, he'd strip naked and run through the streets without a care. If it saved Ye Chen, who needed face anyway? Face was useless.

The awkward part was that Ye Chen showed no reaction.

"If that's how it is, you're forcing me to get rough."

The Rén Wáng took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeves, ready to intervene by force. For all his know-it-all nonsense, he was reliable in critical moments.

Crack!

But before he could step in, a crisp cracking sound echoed.

Though faint, everyone on the mountain, in the sky, and on the ground heard it clearly. Their eyes lit up—it was definitely a cracking sound, coming from the broken sword and the small fragments, which were shattering inch by inch.

"Refined it?"

"It actually worked!"

The group of old folks swarmed up to the peak of Yü Nü Feng, a massive crowd that even pushed Jǐ Níng Shuāng and the others aside. Their old eyes gleamed with dazzling light, fixed on the broken sword and fragments. The indestructible marks and will on them were collapsing. Once they were destroyed, the rest would be easy.

"Good job."

The Rén Wáng laughed, excited enough to jump, but jumping was out of the question—the place was too crowded, no room to land.

He reached out and placed his hand on Ye Chen's back, channeling his essence. The gods, emperors, saints, Dì Jī, and Jiàn Shén did the same, channeling true essence or origins to supply him with power.

In reality, what Ye Chen needed was energy. Ten years had drained him dry.

"Hey, at the crucial moment, I have to step up."

Xiǎo Líng Wá arrived like a streak of light, landing on Yuè Huáng's shoulder. His plump little hand was particularly naughty, reaching out to touch Yuè Huáng's cheek, making both Yuè Huáng and Qián Shāng Yuè's faces darken. You little brat, who do you think you are, touching anyone?

"You've got spirit."

The crowd of mischievous old folks looked at him with meaningful eyes. Among all the talents in Dà Chǔ, they favored this little one. Originally a tyrant dragon, he had turned into a chubby little figure, pink and plump, always groping people. He went straight for anyone attractive, regardless of seniority or status—just touch first and ask questions later. It seemed to be his specialty.

Because of this, his father, the Tyrant Dragon Emperor, and his great-uncle, the Storm Dragon Emperor, had taken many beatings. Unable to find Xiǎo Líng Wá, people took it out on them. As the saying goes, the sins of the son are paid by the father, and having such a troublemaker meant the two dragon emperors hadn't dared show their faces for years.

Xiǎo Líng Wá ignored everyone. His little hand had already dipped into his pants and pulled out a treasure box. Though sealed, the medicinal fragrance was unmistakable—extremely rich, and just one whiff was invigorating.

"A nine-pattern pill?"

Kūn Lún Lǎo Dào and Dān Zōng exclaimed in surprise. As fellow alchemy masters, they wouldn't mistake it.

"That little guy hides his treasures well!"

Lóng Yě sized up Xiǎo Líng Wá from top to bottom. As descendants of the primordial ancestral dragon, how did you turn out so exceptional? Where did that nine-pattern pill come from? I had no idea.

"You should've thought about robbing him, right?"

The old folks stroked their beards with one hand, their eyes on Xiǎo Líng Wá full of deeper meaning. They felt like they'd missed out on a treasure trove. That was a nine-pattern pill, after all!

"Pulling it from there, what a scent."

Shèng Yuán Huáng scratched his fur, particularly focused on Xiǎo Líng Wá's little pants. You're truly outstanding! Keeping a nine-pattern pill in your pants—can your little one handle it?

"He's a step behind this guy."

Kuí Niú Huáng took a deep breath and glanced at Ye Chen.

That was no exaggeration.

Back in the day, this guy had stored Dì Huáng's blood in a chamber pot—that was real audacity.

"Don't move, the moment to witness history is here."

Xiǎo Líng Wá shouted and opened the treasure box.

Immediately, a pill rainbow shot into the sky, piercing a massive hole in the firmament, with pill visions manifesting and covering the vast heavens.

"Are you sure that's a pill?"

The Sixth Divine General was stunned, his mouth twitching.

Like him, the old folks present felt the same.

It wasn't that they were overreacting; it was just that the pill Xiǎo Líng Wá pulled out was enormous. The pills they'd seen before, from one to nine patterns, were usually grape-sized, but this one was as big as a watermelon.

Kūn Lún Lǎo Dào glanced at Dān Zōng, and Dān Zōng glanced back at Kūn Lún Lǎo Dào. As the pinnacle of alchemy, their expressions were oddly similar.

On their word of honor, they'd never seen a pill this big.

"Who took a bite out of this?"

Chǔ Jiāng Wáng leaned in for a look. It was indeed a pill, but not whole—a small chunk was missing, and the bite marks looked more like dog teeth than human.

"I found it like that."

Xiǎo Líng Wá shrugged.

"Where did you find it?"

"This story's a long one. It was a dark and windy night, and I—"

"Enough with the nonsense."

Dōng Huáng Tài Xīn snatched the pill, crushed it into powder, and infused its essence into Ye Chen's body.

Instantly, Ye Chen's entire body radiated with divine light. The essence of the nine-pattern pill was as vast as the sea, its energy surging. Ye Chen's weakened vital energy was instantly replenished, his depleted strength nourished, and his emaciated saint body regained its vitality in a flash.

Boom!

Crackle!

With him, the Hùn Dùn Huǒ and Hùn Dùn Léi also surged with power—one blazing fiercely, the other tearing with lightning—their nearly collapsed origins reformed and solidified.

At that point, the quasi-emperors all withdrew their hands. A nine-pattern pill was more effective than anything else.

"My pill!"

Xiǎo Líng Wá pouted, his eyes welling with tears. That watermelon-sized pill had been his treasure for years, and he hadn't dared to eat it.

Now, it was all given to Ye Chen. If he wanted to smell a nine-pattern pill again, he'd have to pull down his pants and look at his little one.

"Tell Grandpa, are there more?"

"More your sister, get lost."

Xiǎo Líng Wá cursed loudly and landed on Dōng Huáng Tài Xīn's shoulder. He was about to grope her, but she casually picked him up and tossed him away.

"Refine it, refine it for me."

Ye Chen gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing with divine light. He exhausted the pill's power to the utmost, replenishing his strength as his origins roiled wildly.

Crack! Crack!

The broken sword and fragments couldn't hold on any longer and shattered even faster.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Deep in the black hole, the Zhū Xiān Jiàn hummed continuously, as if in pain, like enduring a torturous punishment. The sword was already badly damaged, and the parts Ye Chen had taken were being refined—it would never recover.

"Damned, damned."

"Snatch it back, snatch it back for me."

The Zhū Xiān Jiàn spoke again, its roars from the soul, filled with overwhelming resentment and fury.

It was speaking to the person beside it.

That was a figure in a black robe, face unseen—or rather, features blurred and indistinct. Only a pair of desolate eyes delved into the abyss, manifesting destruction.

The black-robed figure didn't respond to its words. You think you're so tough? Go ahead yourself! With my level, if I enter the Dà Chǔ heavens' gate, do you think I'd make it out?

And another thing, get this straight: you're just a weapon. Do you really think you're your master? How dare you give me orders? Who gave you the right?

Buzz! Buzz!

Seeing the black-robed figure unmoved, the Zhū Xiān Jiàn trembled even more violently, whether from pain or anger. The black-robed figure wouldn't go, and neither would it.

Ten years had passed, and it was still in a weakened state.

All because ten years ago, it had been gravely injured.