I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 68
The Eight-tailed Fox had already reached a bottleneck in cultivation, only one step away from becoming a Nine-tailed Fox. After receiving the approval of the Sacred Yao Spirit, he learned part of an ancient divine cultivation method. Using the limited divine power of the Mystic Fog Yao Valley, he successfully advanced to a Nine-tailed Fox, becoming the foremost figure of the Mystic Fog Yao Valley, utterly suppressing the other nine elders.
Yet, no matter how formidable the Nine-tailed Fox was, he could do nothing about the young foxes in his clan. Ever since Changkong Zhuoyu — that troublemaking fellow — had visited the Mystic Fog Yao Valley, the little foxes had all been infatuated with him. Every day, the little furballs would crowd around the Nine-tailed Fox, whining for the handsome white-robed “big brother.” The Nine-tailed Fox’s newly-grown tail fur was constantly soaked from their crying. In the end, he had to promise them that, once the yao of their clan reached sufficient strength, they could leave the valley to roam the mortal world in search of their own white-robed, handsome young man.
This rule of the Mystic Fog Yao Valley later gave rise to countless legends among mortals about fox spirits and scholars, which would be adapted over the generations into one touching tale after another. {How sweet}
Now, the Nine-tailed Fox, in human form, held the Map of Mountains and Rivers, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions.
The Mystic Fog Yao Valley was within the Map of Mountains and Rivers. The Sacred Yao Spirit had taught him how to move the valley out of the map. Using his great power, the Nine-tailed Fox turned the Mystic Fog Yao Valley into a small world hidden within the heavens and earth. From then on, even if the Map of Mountains and Rivers were destroyed, the yao clan of the Mystic Fog Yao Valley would survive under his and the Sacred Yao Spirit’s protection.
However, the Map of Mountains and Rivers — an innate divine artifact left by Nüwa, their home for countless millennia — would disappear forever.
He stood in the human world, looking up at the Celestial Star Formation in the sky. Ever since it had been laid down, six days and six nights had passed without daylight — only night skies filled with stars. Mortals knelt in prayer, begging the heavens for mercy to return the daylight to them, not knowing that this “starry sky” was their final shield, sustained by a group of cultivators fighting desperately to keep it in place.
Each shooting star in the Celestial Star Formation was a fallen cultivator. Now, the falling stars poured down like rain. Even the Azure Bird’s slaughter of the Jade Pool spirit cultivators could no longer keep the formation going.
The Nine-tailed Fox returned to his original form — a great white fox — and let out a long howl at the heavens. The Map of Mountains and Rivers unfolded, revealing a floating world in the starry sky.
The moment it opened, the last remaining main formation cultivator among reversed his true essence upon being tainted by demonic energy and self-detonated his Nascent Soul. The Celestial Star Formation could no longer hold and dissolved entirely. The main formation master, Yin Changkong, his hair turned completely white, spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed.
In merely six days and nights — in the fight to block the endless tide of demons pouring out from the Demon Realm’s entrance and to maintain the Celestial Star Formation — all Nascent Soul cultivators and above in the cultivation world had been slaughtered. If not for the Star Lord of Tribulations and the Nine Great Divine Artifacts, the end would have been the total annihilation of the cultivation world, with the human realm wholly becoming part of the Demon Realm, leaving the Three Realms and Six Paths in eternal turmoil.
Now, at least, there remained a sliver of hope.
Wanqi Xian had already led the younger disciples of Kunlun to hide in the mortal world, preserving a trace of bloodline for the cultivation world. After this battle, the spiritual energy of heaven and earth was greatly depleted by the Celestial Star Formation, senior cultivators had fallen in droves, and countless secret arts were lost forever. The cultivation world might never again rise to its former glory.
Even so — the human realm still endured.
In that moment, Yin Changkong understood why the Azure Bird had willingly sacrificed herself to protect the human realm, though understanding it did not mean he agreed with her methods.
“It’s up to you now.” The deeply wrinkled Yin Changkong glanced at his fallen junior, Elder Yin, then quietly closed his eyes.
He had done all he could. The rest was in Changkong Zhuoyu’s hands. His true essence exhausted, death was near. Still, with both Wanqi Xian and Changkong Zhuoyu as people he could entrust things to, he was content. His only regret was never seeing Li Xinglun return from the Demon Realm. Without Li Xinglun, was Changkong Zhuoyu still truly himself?
As Yin Changkong shut his eyes, the Celestial Star Formation shattered. The myriad stars in the sky fell as starlight into the human realm. Demons — reeking of blood and demonic energy — surged madly toward the lush lands before them, shrieking as they rushed in to devour every living being in sight.
They fought to rush into the human realm at full speed, devouring weaker demons along the way to strengthen themselves, so that in the bustling mortal world to come, they could dominate and consume even more.
They did not even know what they would become in the end, or what they truly desired — for they were demons without thought, driven only by the urge to consume.
Just as they were scouring for prey, a cold voice rang out: “Close the map.”
The Nine-tailed Fox, hearing this, poured all his remaining true essence into closing the Map of Mountains and Rivers. The demons, realizing something was amiss, struggled violently. But even as a Heavenly Fox wielding a divine artifact, he could not fully close the map.
Demonic energy kept leaking out. The Nine-tailed Fox’s fur stood on end, his nine tails lashing restlessly. The map was already half rolled up, yet was slowly opening again — and his strength was nearly gone.
The Celestial Star Formation had fallen; sunlight returned to the earth. Mortals were kneeling in gratitude, unaware that the true danger lay beneath this sunlight.
The Nine-tailed Fox gave a soft cry and began to chant an ancient spell — an archaic yao incantation that burned the yao’s soul to gain immense power for a brief instant.
But such a spell came at a terrible cost. One by one, his tails vanished; his snow-white fur turned gradually to green. Even so, he could only just keep the map from opening further — not close it entirely.
He could easily abandon the Map of Mountains and Rivers and flee. His mission was already complete. That the demonic energy had not been sealed within the Candle Dragon’s remains in time was Changkong Zhuoyu’s failing, not his. But thinking of the Mystic Fog Yao Valley behind him, the Nine-tailed Fox knew he would never allow even a wisp of demonic energy to enter the valley — not even at the cost of his life.
His great body grew ever smaller, his white fur completely gone. Now he was but a small green fox with only one tail — barely able to take human form.
His essence ebbing away, the little fox felt colder and more dazed. Even the words of the ancient spell were slipping from his mind. He could only lower his head weakly, watching as the map slowly opened and demonic energy seeped out.
He could no longer even hover in the air. Glancing once at the Map of Mountains and Rivers, he fell toward the ground. With the meager true essence left in him, if he struck the earth now, he would be reduced to a smear of blood.
There was nothing more he could do.
The little fox closed his eyes, waiting for the moment of impact — but it never came. Instead, he fell into a warm embrace.
Opening his eyes, he saw a white-robed, cold-faced man holding him with one hand, tucking his small body into his arms so that only his head stuck out. In the fox’s crystal-clear eyes was reflected the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure, transformed into twin dragons whose bodies formed the sword blades, locking the Map of Mountains and Rivers on both ends and trapping the demonic energy inside.
The little fox gave a soft cry, realizing he could no longer speak in human words — only make the sounds of a beast. He did not know if Changkong Zhuoyu understood.
“I know.” Changkong Zhuoyu reached out and patted the little fox’s head. The little fox closed his eyes, surrendering to the gentle touch. No wonder the young foxes of his clan adored Changkong Zhuoyu — only when one leaned into his embrace could they understand how intoxicating it was.
The Map of Mountains and Rivers shuddered, the Twin Swords ringing with a dragon’s roar. Clearly, they could not hold for long on their own. Changkong Zhuoyu looked to the sky. The entrance to the Demon Realm was no longer spewing demonic energy, but there was no sign of the Dripping Blood Sword — nor of Xue Qianjie.
He sighed deeply, then tapped the little fox’s forehead with a fingertip, speaking solemnly: “I can’t wait any longer.”
Tearing off a strip of his sleeve, he transformed it into a white cloud. He placed the little fox on it and said softly, “This white mist shares its origin with the Mystic Fog Yao Valley. It will carry you home. Once you return, take this divine pill under the Sacred Yao Spirit’s guidance — perhaps you can restore your nine-tailed form.”
The little fox struggled to stand, but his legs gave out, and he collapsed again onto the cloud. He looked up at Changkong Zhuoyu and let out a mournful cry.
“Do not worry,” Changkong Zhuoyu said, lowering his eyes to the human world below. “You have all done well. It will be fine.”
Another sad cry.
“Me?” Changkong Zhuoyu looked again to the sky. The entrance to the Demon Realm was slowly closing. He shook his head. “I am, after all, the foremost of the Nine Divine Artifacts. To have gained these three years of freedom, and to have met you all, my friends — that is enough.”
With a wave of his hand, the cloud shot away faster than any sword flight, carrying the little fox far into the distance. The fox’s plaintive cries lingered in the air, blending with the Twin Swords’ long, mournful song — a requiem before the final battle.
~ Chapter End ~
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