The Journey of Immortal Cultivation

Chapter 1117 - 608: Changtian, You’re Free (Double - s Combined)_3

This is her man, hers. She longs to touch him once more with her own hands.

Changtian finally finished reciting the spell, then directly pressed the Gold Essence into the Nanming Lihuo Sword.

This Divine Sword was already extraordinary, but only after the Gold Essence’s shine completely merged into the blade did the Nanming Lihuo Sword explode with dazzling red light. Such vibrant and lively glow exceeded even the ever-flowing magma of the Earth Core, both hotter and more majestic!

The Divine Sword had a spirit, it let out a long phoenix song, filled with joy and gratitude towards Changtian. That ungrateful wolf, she thought, it was she who had asked the White Tiger to refine the Gold Essence, and she who had risked everything to bring the Divine Sword into prison, so why does it only thank Changtian?

Even with geothermal heat sustaining it, after all being buried in snow for tens of thousands of years, only at this moment did the Nanming Lihuo Sword truly regain the magnificence of its prime!

Changtian did not hesitate any longer, he pulled the Dragon Binding Rope taut with a reverse grip.

This silver chain, which had trapped the Shaking Heaven God for more than thirty thousand years and caused him much suffering, also seemed to sense its end was near, trembling uncontrollably, wanting to escape from his hand, but how could it?

The fiery red sword light flashed by, unparalleled in beauty, like the brightest firework in the summer night sky.

This was her first time seeing Changtian wield a sword.

She had watched many experts wield swords: the cold arrogance of the Chaoyun Sect Leader Bai Qing, the vastness from Nangong Zhen’s heart, the faultless actions of Jin Wuhuan, even the reduction-simplification when Yin Jiu You struck. But no one’s strike could compare to Changtian’s; when his sword fell, the primordial chaos split open, leaving the world without light.

It was just the power of one sword, yet it seemed to cut down everything, so domineering, so unrestrained, so contemptuous of all living things!

"Screech," a sharp sound echoed.

She widened her eyes, unblinkingly, and indeed clearly, saw—after this sword, the Dragon Binding Rope, stronger than almost anything, finally couldn’t withstand the power of the Divine Sword, broken obscurely in two. This process, in her eyes, was as clear and complete as in slow motion, something she wanted to etch into her heart, to savor slowly.

Thus, Changtian shook off all restraints, all his Divine Skills restored!

In her heart, endless joy surged, so full it was almost painful, almost overflowing the next second. She wanted to boast to everyone she’d meet in the future that she was so fortunate, so joyous, so... delighted.

The person she admired was an undeniable hero, reaching the heavens and standing tall. He should be roaming freely within the Three Realms, exploring the world between Heaven and Earth, not stuck in this inch of space, day and night enduring the humiliation and pain of his divine power being drained and his body being restrained.

She had finally fulfilled the agreement between them.

Changtian, you are free now.

I am so happy. You, are you just as happy?

Within the God Demon Prison, a sudden, absolute darkness fell. This great prison was operated by Changtian’s divine power, and now that he had broken free of the Dragon Binding Rope, the God Demon Prison was naturally forced to shut down.

Mr. Yan’s words "gain and loss are inevitable, weigh the balance," and what Ning Yu’s divination described as "soul-stirring" and "fulfilling one’s wishes," she finally understood their profound meaning.

It was worth it, all of this was worth it, she willingly accepted.

Even if she were to do it all again, she would never regret it.

In this safe and quiet darkness, she smiled, letting out a gentle breath.

#####

In Fengtian Prefecture.

The night had deepened, and Miluo had taken a new battle report to review. Recently, the Northern Sect’s attacks had become increasingly ferocious, each advance of a hundred meters to the south was practically achieved at the cost of lives. He understood the reasons yet had no good solutions. Stationed in the North was the White Tiger, an old monster who had lived for hundreds of thousands of years, impervious to persuasion; getting any benefit from him was no easy task.

The evening wind, carrying a chill, pushed through the window, lifting his long robes, rolling the wide sleeves back, revealing a red thread wrapped around his wrist.

Attached to it was a small Beast Tooth.

The strong wind nearly blew away the sandalwood scent in the room, and Miluo inexplicably felt a daze. As he was writing with dragon-snake fluency, this slight pause caused ink to drip from the pen tip onto the paper slip.

He reached out, touching his chest, where a sudden, sharp, unbearable pain emerged, as if a silver needle had deeply pierced him. A voice was softly laughing near his ear, whispering low, as if someone was bidding him a quiet farewell.

Yet he felt an indescribable sorrow and reluctance from the depths of his heart. This was an unfamiliar emotion locked in the recesses of his memory, a feeling he had not experienced since his mother passed away.