Watching the Mountain

Chapter 340: Chapter 194: In the Name of Shennong

A Silent War of Dao

The moment the final ancient Dao Seal formed at Yue Qingyu’s fingertips, the entire Profound Pure Sect, and even the world around it, suddenly fell into a strange, deathly silence.

It wasn’t that sound was stolen away, but that all sound had simply vanished.

The howling mountain wind, the disciples’ strained gasps, the low growls of the Spirit Beasts, and even the rustling of grass and trees seemed to be muffled by a thick, invisible quilt.

The light grew viscous and distorted. The air became as heavy as solidified lead and mercury, weighing down on everyone’s chest.

Every disciple, regardless of their Cultivation, felt a sudden, heart-stopping palpitation.

The faces of disciples below the Purple Mansion Realm instantly turned ashen white. Those with weaker Cultivation even had their vision go black before collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

The Golden Core Disciples were drenched in cold sweat and struggled to breathe, as if they were at the bottom of a ten-thousand-fathom sea, their Divine Souls crushed by an invisible, immense force.

Even the Nascent Soul Stage Elders swayed slightly. Their Divine Sense was like a small boat tossed in a raging tempest, pitching violently, making them dizzy, nauseous, and tight-chested.

”What’s going on?”

”The Daoist Monarch, the Sect Leader... they haven’t even moved!”

”It’s... so hard... I can’t breathe...”

”My head... is spinning...”

Panic spread like a plague among the despairing disciples of the Profound Pure Sect.

They stared intently at the two seemingly motionless figures facing each other in the sky.

Yue Qingyu was dressed in white that outshone the snow. Wuya Daoist Monarch stood with his hands behind his back. There was no earth-shattering flash of Magic, no thunderous clash of Magical Treasures.

But the terrifying pressure filling the air was more suffocating than any battle.

It was a tremor that reached the very depths of the soul, born from a primal awe and terror of the clash between the very sources of their Dao.

Xu Ran stood below. His Purple Mansion Late Stage Cultivation allowed him to fare slightly better than the average disciple, but the oppressive feeling from a higher level of power still left him feeling suffocated.

He clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug deep into his palms, his gaze locked on Yue Qingyu’s cold, distant back.

’Senior Sister,’ he thought, his heart filled with an unprecedented sense of worry.

He had read about Dao battles in ancient texts, but he had never witnessed their peril firsthand.

Zhang Zhentian’s expression was equally grave. He circulated the Nascent Soul Power within him to resist the formless pressure, ready to risk his life to intervene at a moment’s notice.

At that moment, on a plane imperceptible to both the naked eye and Divine Sense, a silent yet utterly brutal war was raging across the world.

Yue Qingyu’s Dao was cold and aloof, like the eternal, bright moon hanging in the ninth heaven, or a solitary, ten-thousand-ren peak covered in the first snow. Yet it also held a silent, nurturing gentleness.

It was pure and resilient, possessing a persistent and resolute constancy and order, as if the most fundamental laws of the world were flowing through it.

These were not cold, unfeeling laws. They contained a stubborn will to protect and a responsibility to the Sect, forged into the strongest shield and the sharpest sword of intent.

Wuya Daoist Monarch’s Dao, in contrast, was like a boundless, stormy sea, surging with endless experience and majestic power.

It was the chivalrous Dao of righting wrongs and protecting bonds—vast and all-encompassing, yet also profound and weathered, carrying the deeper comprehension of the Laws of Heaven and Earth befitting the Divinity Transformation Middle Stage.

The will of his Dao Heart was like an abyssal trench, profound and unfathomable.

These two completely different, yet supremely powerful, wills of the Great Dao clashed abruptly.

BOOM.

It was not a real sound, but a roar that detonated in the depths of every living being’s consciousness.

Within the Profound Pure Sect’s grounds, disciples below the Golden Core Realm collapsed in droves, trickles of blood seeping from their seven orifices.

The Golden Core Cultivators clutched their heads and groaned, while the Nascent Soul Elders’ bodies trembled violently. Their seas of consciousness felt as if they’d been struck by a massive hammer, and their vision blurred and distorted into overlapping images.

In the void, an invisible storm was raging.

The distortion of light intensified, and visible ripples spread through the air.

Behind Yue Qingyu, the faint phantom of a massive, cold, bright moon appeared, its watery moonlight attempting to wash everything clean.

And behind Wuya Daoist Monarch, a phantom of a boundless, raging sea materialized. Monstrous waves surged, crashing down upon the solitary moon with the force of a thousand mountains.

The bright moon bobbed amid the furious waves, its light flickering, as if it could be swallowed and crushed by the deluge at any moment.

The sea was not calm either. The cold moonlight, like the sharpest of threads, constantly cut, penetrated, and disintegrated the churning waves, attempting to establish its own lunar order within them.

This was a contest of wills, a collision of Dao Hearts, a fundamental duel over their understanding of the Dao itself.

Wuya Daoist Monarch’s expression shifted from its initial gravity and admonishment to one of utter shock.

He could feel that the seemingly cold, bright moon possessed a resilience and purity that surpassed all his expectations.

Yue Qingyu’s Dao Heart was as unshakable as a monolith, unmoved by the majestic Dao Rhyme of his Divinity Transformation Middle Stage.

The will to protect contained within that moonlight had transformed into an almost obsessive force, so pure and powerful that it ignored the gulf between their Realms. Again and again, it pierced through the defenses of his sea-like Dao Rhyme, striking directly at the wavering and guilt in his Dao Heart—the part of him that felt ”forced to act.”

’For this Sect Leader Yue to be able to fight me for so long with only a Nascent Soul Early Stage Cultivation Realm... she is truly remarkable.’

’She is worthy of her title as the favored daughter of heaven, once ranked alongside Sword Dao Ye Shan.’

He sighed with emotion, then began to ponder how he could end this battle while causing Yue Qingyu the least amount of injury.

He truly did not want to see a talent like Yue Qingyu—a beacon of hope who could one day carry the future of the Immortal Ancient Cultivation Realm—suffer a grievous injury and never recover.