Volume One: The King’s Command Chapter Sixty-Seven: Braving the Five Trials Alone

“Fellow cultivators, I must take this man back for interrogation. After a few days, I’ll return him to you. What do you say?” Shi Yuan ordered his men to bind Feng Zhang and carry him back to his side.

Dao Xuzi frowned. “Shi Yuan, he is a disciple of Heavenly King Dao. It’s not your place as an outsider to deal with him, is it?”

“That’s not quite right. Swallowing the Iron Man Pill and cultivating blindly has already damaged his foundation. If he’s not treated in time, his life is at stake.” The Iron Man Pill was considered a miraculous elixir among the disciples of the Mountain-moving Sect, but to outsiders it was a deadly poison. Without the corresponding techniques to neutralize the toxins, over time it would harm the soul and turn the user into a complete madman.

“There’s another matter. I must ask you to let this person come with us.” Shi Yuan gestured toward Liu Xiaoyi, releasing a powerful oppressive aura. Yet, when it fell upon Liu Xiaoyi, it felt like a gentle spring breeze.

Though they all studied the Command of Presence, each person’s insights were different. Yet the source was the same, and there was no ill intent. From a distance, Liu Xiaoyi nodded at Shi Yuan.

Perhaps this was his chance. In that fleeting moment, he felt his understanding of the Command of Presence deepen slightly.

“No, he is the Supreme Elder’s disciple. It’s not my decision to make,” Dao Xuzi refused firmly.

“I agree!”

A vigorous voice echoed from the mountains. “Little disciple! Come!” A wisp of white energy appeared out of nowhere, wrapping around Liu Xiaoyi and carrying him into the mountains. Shi Yuan was in no hurry; he pressed his palms together and waited quietly.

When Liu Xiaoyi regained his senses, his feet were firmly planted on the ground before a magnificent golden hall, no less grand than the palace itself. At the entrance stood an elderly man with a childlike face, smiling at him warmly.

“Greetings, Supreme Elder!” Liu Xiaoyi hurriedly bowed.

The elder beckoned him over and welcomed him inside. The four walls of the main hall were carved with rare and exotic beasts, none of which Liu Xiaoyi could recognize. The four sky-pillar columns supporting the structure were engraved with the Four Sacred Beasts, each one lifelike. No matter where one stood in the hall, the eyes of the beasts seemed to look straight at you.

“That old Yellow Crane introduced quite the troublesome one to me. You’re here to borrow the Fire Seal to dissolve the Golden Dragon Soul, aren’t you?”

“Indeed, my soul was damaged, and I was fortunate enough to be saved by a senior. I used the Golden Dragon Soul to preserve my life, and now I wish to borrow the Fire Seal,” Liu Xiaoyi answered respectfully.

The elder stroked his beard and stomped his foot. The Four Sacred Beasts moved from the columns and slithered to the corners, opening their mouths to emit beams of light in four colors, which gathered in the center to form a portal of light.

“The Fire Seal is inside. Go ahead.” The elder gave Liu Xiaoyi a gentle push, and he carefully stepped through the portal.

Looking back, the path had vanished. He now found himself on a forest path, lush greenery behind and tranquil silence ahead.

The Supreme Elder’s voice rang in his ear: “Only by passing the Heavenly King Dao can you command the Fire Seal. Good luck, young one!”

“Supreme Elder! What’s inside the Heavenly King Dao? Supreme Elder?” Liu Xiaoyi called out, but the surroundings fell silent. No one answered.

Inside the hall, the elder was laughing heartily. The portal had become a screen displaying Liu Xiaoyi’s situation.

Dao Xuzi, sensing something was amiss, took out a delicate mirror and infused it with true energy. The mirror shone with light, revealing the same scene within the Heavenly King Dao.

“Shi Yuan, the Supreme Elder wants him to first pass the Heavenly King Dao. That will take at least three days. Can you wait?”

“No problem, no problem,” Shi Yuan settled down like an old monk. The bronze men he’d brought stood motionless, statues frozen in their original poses.

Within the Heavenly King Dao, Liu Xiaoyi had no idea what awaited him. The path was somewhat narrow, just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. He could hear insects and birds, but not see them.

After about thirty paces, a three-way fork appeared ahead. Looking into the distance, all three paths looked identical—wondrous and mysterious.

“The Yellow Crane Daoist told me to enter where flowers bloom. The path with blooming orchids should be the way, then?” Liu Xiaoyi muttered, choosing the leftmost path. As soon as he stepped in, the scene changed to a small courtyard where a man in black stood, his face obscured.

Without hesitation, Liu Xiaoyi drew his sword and rushed to help the man fend off attacking assassins.

But a dart flew at them. The man in black couldn’t dodge and was struck in the chest. Liu Xiaoyi turned to save him, but it was too late.

“Father!” As a child of five, he’d been too young to understand life and death. Now, reliving this moment in the Heavenly King Dao, regret surged within him.

Sword energy slashed fiercely toward the door, felling an assassin in an instant. The final attacker was cut in two. Now, with his current skills, Liu Xiaoyi was not weaker than his father had been. He realized the assassins were nothing but minor threats.

Then, someone vaulted over the wall, saw the man in black dead, and pulled off his mask, crying, “Old Liu! Why couldn’t you hold on until I came?”

“Xia Liang!” Liu Xiaoyi knew him well. He pressed his sword to the man’s neck. “You two were old friends—why did you lead people to kill my father?”

Xia Liang was shocked, parrying the blade with his fingers. He was certain he’d never met this youth, but those eyes—he recognized them.

“Put the sword down. We can talk this out.”

“There’s nothing to say! You deserve to die!” Liu Xiaoyi’s eyes were bloodshot as he pressed the blade down, cold sweat freezing into flecks on Xia Liang’s face.

Ten years of hatred erupted at their reunion. Liu Xiaoyi hadn’t realized the depth of his resentment. He hated being too young to protect his father; hated Xia Liang, the old friend who turned killer.

Xia Liang took a deep breath, his expression relaxing. “That temper of yours is just like his. Though I don’t know why, I can tell you this—he asked me to kill him, to protect his son from the turmoil of the King’s Command.”

“There was no other way? You adults always act so recklessly!”

“What do you know! The Liu family was charged with guarding the King’s Command! His living would have violated the oath!” Xia Liang retorted angrily. “A true hero serves the nation and the people! When the King’s Command surfaces, it brings suffering to the common folk! It should never reappear—only be sealed away forever!”

Guarding the King’s Command was meant to prevent its resurfacing. In the previous dynasty, five great families were entrusted to watch over it, and the Liu family was one of them.

After years of war with the Iron Dynasty, the other four families had all been wiped out, leaving only the Liu family, scattered and hidden among the people.

Despite their efforts, the Iron Dynasty eventually discovered them. The Liu family moved from place to place but was finally tracked down.

That desperate day was the one five-year-old Liu Xiaoyi witnessed—when the one-armed blacksmith from next door and the storyteller beneath the old tree, all his father’s close friends, protected him with their lives until he was fifteen.

His real enemy was the entire Iron Dynasty. Realizing this, Liu Xiaoyi slowly lowered his sword and walked alone out of the courtyard, onto the desolate street.

Behind him, Xia Liang called out, “Let not hatred pass to the next generation, nor cloud your vision. Your father didn’t wish for you to seek revenge, nor do I.”

“The Iron Dynasty is not at fault; the fault lies with the King’s Command.”

Liu Xiaoyi sheathed his sword and walked to the end of the street, only to bump into a solid obstacle, seeing stars from the impact.

Steadying himself, he saw it was a towering tree, nearly twenty zhang high, its branches and leaves spreading wide, sunlight dappling the flowers and grasses below.

Somewhat relieved, Liu Xiaoyi didn’t hurry on but sat beneath the tree to gather his thoughts. For the past ten years, every day had been spent growing stronger for the sake of vengeance.

In the end, Xia Liang too was dead, and it felt as though his fist had struck nothing but air, the frustration stuck within him.

The power within the King’s Command resembled the magical force spoken of by cultivators. Only after being protected by the Golden Dragon Soul had he come into contact with their world. Could it be that there were cultivators within the Iron Dynasty as well?

The strongest in the royal family was at the twelfth level of the Earth Soul Realm, still merely mortal. Yet the abilities of Dao Xuzi and the Supreme Elder were far beyond that.

His perspective, he realized, was still too narrow—unable to see through the mists shrouding the martial world.

If the Iron Dynasty’s cultivators sought the Dragon Soul, then the implications were immense. The strange and powerful figures before him left him utterly bewildered.

He must find Meng Qiaoqiao to learn the basics of cultivation, to prepare for the next clash with the Iron Dynasty.

“Enter when you see flowers, retreat when you see trees, go with the current, descend against the wind”—the mnemonic taught by the Yellow Crane Daoist. Now he faced a tree, but did not understand how to retreat.

There was no turning back on the Heavenly King Dao. Behind him was a wall of black mist. If he tried to walk into it, an invisible barrier blocked his way. He could either give up and call out to be transported out, or search for a way forward.

Every move he made was watched from outside. The others had seen the King’s Command, and some were already secretly plotting to seize it.

Even within the territory of the Heavenly King Dao, there were those unafraid of them—the lure of the King’s Command was simply too great.

“Retreat when you see trees, but there’s no way back. What am I supposed to do?” Liu Xiaoyi sat beneath the tree, pondering bitterly to no avail.

Everyone entering the Heavenly King Dao would face five trials. That he’d passed the first so swiftly was unexpected.

Many, unable to leave the maze, would repeat the ever-multiplying paths endlessly until forced to give up.

“Retreat when you see trees—retreat in heart, not in body.” On the roof of Lingxiao Palace, the Yellow Crane Daoist muttered over his crystal ball, which showed the same scene, as if seeking a way to hint to Liu Xiaoyi.

Unable to think of a solution, Liu Xiaoyi simply began to practice his sword beneath the tree, moving steadily and calmly through each stroke of his familiar forms. Swordplay could be used to face an enemy—or to quiet the mind.