Forge a path to success.

Chapter 192 The Art of Seeking the Dao with a Broken Heart (End)

His aura was extremely fierce, and there was no hesitation in his stance. Behind the mask, his eyes contained a dark killing intent.

This is the gaze of someone with a broken heart, the aura of someone who steps onto the battlefield with resolve. Just like the elders in a family when they are angry, just like the patriarch when he used to practice martial arts.

That powerful entity now stands opposite him, brandishing a knife.

“Mr. Longyu…?” Qingye said blankly, “Why…”

Genuine killing intent. Just being angry wouldn't evoke this much. Something must have gone wrong. Think carefully. Mr. Longyu's earlier words must have a hidden meaning. He said all the Heartbreakers were dead, yet he could still mourn his former comrades. Why was he the only one who survived? That's because he was…

"...The messenger of fear!"

Then, the first strike came.

A swift, fluid sword slash, its trajectory from the lower left pointing straight for the shoulder, aimed to sever the enemy's arms. Qingye dodged with a series of backward leaps. Yexing slashed at her neck with his blade, but Qingye nimbly flipped backward to avoid it. Then, she mustered all her strength and sprinted away from Yexing.

Start running away!

Even Ye Xing was stunned. Rushing forward, Qing Ye clasped his hands together and cried out desperately, "Mr. Long Yu, please spare my life for the sake of us both being people with broken hearts! Please!"

What a joke! We absolutely can't win. There's no hope of victory at all. The difference in swordsmanship between us is like heaven and earth. Hoping to turn the tide with some kind of improvisation or a sudden breakthrough is just a pipe dream! To use four ounces to move a thousand pounds, you need at least four ounces. Right now, a mere point 2 doesn't even have one ounce. What are you going to do? Escape is the priority!

Nightwalker doubted his own hearing: "What did you say?"

"Yes!" Qingye repeated loudly, "I am very sorry for my previous offense. Please spare my life!"

Then, a rage even more terrifying than murderous intent erupted behind Qingye.

A weapon imbued with intense emotion was drawn, and rage swelled violently, spreading in all directions like a tsunami roaring in a storm. Nightwalker stood atop that wave, like a raging silver dragon.

Qingye went from desperately running away to sprinting for her life, her scarf billowing behind her like a mouse's tail. "Why are you so angry?!"

Night Walker glared angrily: "On the battlefield, how can we beg for the enemy's mercy? How can we abandon our dignity for our lives!"

"But I think life is more important than dignity!" Qingye shouted. "If I'm alive, I can always find a way later, but dying for dignity won't change anything! If I just lay here and give up, my family will be heartbroken, and the village will lose its fighting strength, but if I run back, at least I can still help with the hunt!"

"Enough," Nightwalker said in a deep voice. "You really... disappoint me!"

As the words fell, the blade tore through the air. The distance created by their rapid movement was bridged in a single step. Nightwalker drew his blade with one hand, the short knife piercing Nightwalker's head and snapping his spine. The immense force crushed the flesh into a pulp, his blade like a long nail pinning a living human to the ground.

Immediately afterward, the blood and mud vanished without a trace, turning into mist and dissipating. That was a clone created using the mist!

Nightwalker swung her blade behind her. The blade sliced ​​through two shadow shuriken and tore through the invisible misty robe—the very mist concealment technique that Nightwalker relied on to hide. Instead of fleeing, she secretly approached Nightwalker, attempting a surprise attack.

Qingye forcefully tilted her head back, kneeling on the ground, her supple body almost folded in half, using the momentum of her charge to glide forward. A short sword grazed her nose, and she successfully dodged the approaching attack. In that instant, her long sword was drawn from its sheath, unleashing a strike as bright as day.

The two were less than half a meter apart. The short sword was too late to defend, but Ye Xing pressed down with two fingers together, using his fingers as a sword to block the sword light. The moment the gleaming blade touched his fingers, his spirit erupted from his fingertips, shattering the entire long sword into shimmering fragments.

However, Ye Xing did not press his advantage; instead, he drew his sword to defend. The sensation between his fingers spoke volumes; the slash was essentially a "reverse-blade draw," a technique that Tian Qingye had mastered using light elements to mimic in just a few days.

She feinted, using the opportunity to slip back into the mist. Tap tap. Tap tap. Faint footsteps echoed from the depths of the gray mist. A clever trick to deceive.

Nightwalker shook his head in disappointment. "The same trick won't work a second time."

"Then I will try my best to think of new methods."

"Weren't you trying to run away?"

"If only I could escape!" Qingye said, both amused and exasperated.

“Now I finally understand reality,” Nightwalker said in a deep voice. “So what have I been doing until now? Leaving my base camp, wandering with a powerful person I met by chance, hoping to gain power through this fortuitous encounter to prove myself!”

Qingye, having his thoughts exposed, could only remain silent. Yexing showed no mercy; his anger was somewhat reminiscent of Chongming's.

"It's all wishful thinking, just like your self-righteous decision to leave home. You don't understand reality, you don't know what's happening outside the greenhouse, and you make decisions based on your own delusions, which will ultimately become poison that harms yourself and those around you."

You are now just like those skeletons of those who joined the army without knowing the dangers of the battlefield. What right does a fool like you have to call yourself a heartless person!

Nightwalker raised his short sword overhead with both hands, unleashing his true "technique" for the first time in this sudden encounter. He unlocked the "locks" located inside his arms, allowing the blocked power to flow into the blades, forming a transparent "wind." The moment the short swords were thrust out, the battlefield was instantly cleared; his sword intent swept across the earth like a true hurricane, dispelling the fog of history!
Wuxiang Nixin Liu · Dufeng Sha. In his youth, Ye Xing used this demonic sword to shatter an army with a single strike, establishing his invincible reputation.

The fog dissipated, leaving Qingye nowhere to hide. Her figure appeared 300 meters away. Qingye held a huge shuriken, which she had previously intended to use for a surprise attack. Seeing that her concealment had been broken, Qingye unhesitatingly threw away the shuriken. She gripped her sword with both hands and stood in the stance of a master and disciple sparring in a dojo.

It looked like a desperate struggle to maintain the last shred of dignity after accepting defeat, but the girl's eyes conveyed a different kind of emotion.

Refusing to admit defeat. Hating it? Rebelling? Or—

"Please don't say that," Qingye said softly. "What do you know?"

"I've seen countless idiots like you before!"

"I'm telling you!" Qingye raised her voice, "You have absolutely no idea what Shura Island is like now!!"

Nightwalker couldn't possibly know. He was a messenger of fear, trapped on this land before the war ended, unaware of the outside world except for snippets of information from outsiders. But she understood; it was the land that nurtured her, and every scene from her childhood taught her what Shura Island was like.

To cultivate one's own power. Children told this become fascinated from a young age with the foolish game of power. Those without power eagerly curry favor, using their skills to beg for rewards from those in power. On that small island, a natural hierarchy exists, the differences between people even greater than the differences between people and outsiders.

Because the children of those in positions of power are born with superior strength.

There are countless young people who have reached the level of a mere 3, and many are born having already crossed the first abyss. Birth and social standing, in a literal sense, determine a person's future. She was called a recognized "genius" in such an environment because she endured suffering befitting that title.

—Guang Shi Qingye is the only one in the prestigious family who did not inherit the power of his elders.

While everyone else was born with innate skills, she alone honed her Flash Finger technique. While everyone else discussed crossing the First Abyss, she alone tempered her Sinful Bones. Therefore, she is the genius with a broken heart, therefore, she is a one-of-a-kind genius.

She grew up in this environment, witnessing the alienation that power brought to the same people. She watched the poisoning and murder happening around her, and saw different families and sects fighting openly and covertly for their interests, with innocent civilians being harmed like expendable resources.

She trained alongside the weakest children, listening to their ambitions and dreams for the future. She had experienced Dongsha's betrayal, met dozens of similar "Dongshas," understood their aspirations, and comprehended the unwavering determination in those children's eyes.

They are destined to rise to a high position in the future.

In the future, I will definitely seize status and wealth.

One day, I will surely trample those in power under my feet...

Instead!
"Power struggles, deceit, and profiteering by stepping on the corpses of one's own kind—even the air is suffocating. What's so good about that Dust Island?" Qingye roared. "What's wrong with leaving such a place!"

A short sword thrust towards her brow, but Qingye swung her crown to parry, the two swords clashing and sparking. Qingye took a step back, her toes sinking deep into the sand, then she stepped forward and swung her sword, a fierce strike aimed at the hilt of the short sword. Nightwalker's defense was impenetrable, yet the clash of the two swords never ceased.

"Look at the skeletons beneath your feet!" Nightwalker roared. "Is it your dream to let your compatriots die here meaninglessly?!"

“That’s right!” Ignoring victory or defeat and life or death, Guang Shi Qingye’s slash came down like a roar.

Fueled by the same rage, they responded with a desperate, life-or-death strike.

Even if it means dying a miserable death on the battlefield! Even if it means making a fool of yourself before you die, and regretting it too late!

That's a million times better than indulging in the vanity created by such infighting!

The moment the words left her lips, the force of her sword vanished completely.

It was as if the rust on the blade had been wiped away, as if the barrier between man and sword had been broken down. Intense emotions rushed into Mian Sheng, and for the first time since the transformation, her sword contained no confusion.

Yes, that's not some kind of well-intentioned act of thinking of everyone.

This is a vicious act, a delusion of war maniacs, intent on driving their compatriots to their deaths.

She was very happy when she left Shura Island; every day she spent traveling with her companions was worth remembering. Just as Chongming had said, she was completely absorbed in the journey and captivated by it.

Only at this moment did Guang Shi Qing Ye embark on the path he had longed for.

She fought against evil. She battled against heretics. She fought for the survival of others, and was willing to die for her own pursuits. She loved this life and enjoyed the feeling.

Fighting on the brink of death, surviving amidst suffering. This is what a person with a broken heart should be like; this is the reason for the creation of the path of the broken heart!

"Endure pain, suffer torment, and spend a thousand times more difficult time than other paths in order to gain that meager bit of strength!"
If the hard-won achievements are used to kill each other on one's own land...

What, then, is the meaning of our lives?

With a roar, Qingye slashed down with his long sword.

The sword, no longer lost, charged forward, breaking through the Night Walker's defenses for the first time.

Disregarding injury and death, it was a frenzied swordsmanship. As a price, after unleashing this attack, Qingye was riddled with openings. But miraculously, even fighting in such a life-or-death manner, Qingye remains unharmed.

He instinctively held back. No, that's not it. His very first strike was already stronger than the blows he delivered in his fight with Ji Huaisu. He should have killed this man long ago. Once the mask is on, no emotions remain.

So, is he confused?

Was it he, a man with a broken heart who had already died in battle, who was now swayed by these foolish words...?
"……madness!"

The short sword traced a winding trajectory. It thrust towards the brow, then turned to strike the shoulder, and finally cleaved at the heart—a three-hit combo aimed at vital points, delivered almost simultaneously. Qingye trembled the blade, deflecting the strike with a large movement, then lunged forward, sideways, and rammed her with her shoulder.

Imitating Wu Xiu's Iron Mountain Lean, he interrupted Ye Xing's next sword strike. Ye Xing took a step back, his short sword slashing towards his throat like a guillotine, but Qing Ye's long sword struck first, the two swords, which were supposed to be a pair, clashed in mid-air, triggering a clear and melodious resonance.

Still unharmed.

No results have been achieved yet.

There is indeed a world of difference in basic skills. But a sluggish and undisciplined swordsmanship cannot shatter the young man's frenzied fighting spirit—

"Stop using the suffering around you as an excuse to escape!" Nightwalker roared. "What can a girl with a mere 2-point mass do? You're just unwilling to admit your mistakes!"

"I will find the master of the Broken Heart Fate," Qingye said firmly. "Then I will bring him back to Shura Island and force those foolish adults to unite and change this murky place!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Do you think the Lord of Fate is some kind of nice guy?" Ye Xing increased the pressure in his hands, forcing Mian Sheng to retreat step by step. "Do you think you can change that man's mind with just your words?"

"If the Lord of Remnant Heart abandons his mission, then I will!" Qingye shouted. "I will become the one who changes Shura Island!!"

The intense emotions poured into the longsword caused Mian Sheng to emit a radiance like the sunrise.

The long sword fell straight down. A relic that resonated with the broken heart, it cleaved through the night's path.

Both retreated simultaneously. Nightwalker sheathed his sword and unleashed a reverse-blade attack once more. The ink-black slash leaped up like a dragon, but Nightwalker no longer swung her sword; instead, she swung her hand to meet the attack. Black shadow threads wrapped around her fingertips, and the giant shuriken that had been thrown earlier flew back, guided by the shadow threads, blocking Nightwalker's first strike.

The shuriken split in two from the center, its shadow scattering and flashing with dazzling sword light. The second strike was a vertical slash that sealed off space. Qingye leaped upwards fearlessly, her movements far slower than Yexing's sword. Yet, in mid-air, she transformed into a wisp of mist, the short sword merely passing through without wounding her.

She ensured her safety just before being hit. It was a secret technique that Qingye had developed herself during her training over the past few days.

Absorbing the fog of history with sinful bones, he instantly condenses it into mist. In a literal sense, he achieves invincibility through the art of turning mist into heart.

The cross-shaped slash that sealed off space was broken, and thanks to the protection of the Residual Heart Technique, Qingye was unharmed. In mid-air, Mian Sheng was drawn from its sheath… meeting the relentless, cold sword light!

He drew his sword in the night, slashing with ruthless cruelty. His first two strikes were deceptive reverse-blade techniques, but only now did he truly strike, aiming for a fatal blow. His short sword changed color as it was drawn, transforming into the deep darkness of the night. The man's emotions were infused into the sword, and the distorted color spread to the surrounding world with each strike.

In an instant, the battlefield transformed into a black and white world like an ink painting. Dust, slashes, breaths, the movements of the two figures—everything slowed down the moment the sword was drawn. At the very moment Ye Xing truly wielded his blade, the entire world became a still, black-and-white space!

The flow of thought without intention, the art of time turning in vain.

He is the Remnant of the Heart, a Nightwalker, and he too possesses his own renowned technique. Even weakened to a low-quality level, it is enough to briefly control time—the Time-Shifting Technique!
In the utter silence of darkness, only the dagger of night moved silently. There was no way to dodge it, no way to defend against it; fate had been decided from the moment the blade was drawn, and the night's slash would surely sever the enemy's head.

With nowhere to hide, Qingye watched the blade hurtling towards her. The short sword's edge magnified in her eyes, but suddenly it shifted. Her long sword emitted a light, a dazzling white light like a comet. The sword light bathed her, causing movement that shouldn't exist in the still world.

The strike, which should have stopped, fell, the sword light as dazzling as a shooting star!

That was the secret technique of the Path of Broken Heart, "Thousand Nights Instant Star," created by the master of Broken Heart himself. In the heat of battle, one sharpens their inner energy, unleashing it all in a single strike, transforming life into a dazzling meteor streaking through the night. It was an unwavering determination to win, a madness to survive; under the starlight illuminating a thousand nights, even time itself would yield!
Starlight swayed and fell, illuminating the pitch-black world. Time, which had been stagnant, began to flow once more, and amidst the light, only the clang of a long sword remained.

The longsword of the Nightfall Blade pierced Nightwalker's side. Dark blood dripped down the blade, and Nightwalker's eyes returned to their clouded state.

The girl stubbornly raised her head, meeting the gaze of her ancestor.

“You win, Mr. Longyu,” she said, “but I did nothing wrong.”

Then the mist dissipated, and the dagger pierced her chest. Qingye missed her only chance; she cleaved through time, but failed to kill her enemy.

But she wouldn't think that way; life and death, victory and defeat, were things that were obvious to everyone.

Running away is pointless, so fight. That's all.

Nightwalker drew his dagger and watched the girl fall into the black earth. The blows of their strikes blew away the sand and gravel of the battlefield, revealing many black, withered bones, their arms raised as if in a silent embrace.

In the eyes of the night traveler, images of their former lives appeared: human faces and withered bones overlapping, melting and murky, inseparable.

“Yes,” the man said softly, “you did nothing wrong.”

He sheathed his dagger and walked into the mist. His back was so lonely, like a prisoner staggering with guilt through the years.

(End of this chapter)