Chapter Forty-Six: Blocking the Path

Heaven brings forth all things to nurture humanity, yet humanity has nothing to offer in return to heaven. Thus, the harmony of heaven and earth forms the threshold between life and death.

The Demonic Calamity is the gateway of death, annihilating all things; the Island of Peerless Martialists is the gateway of life, where survival is won from the jaws of death. For someone like the old monk, who has endured both the Demonic Calamity and the Island of Peerless Martialists, it all comes down to a single thread of hope.

Whether facing the Demonic Calamity or entering the Island of Peerless Martialists, one must gamble for life amid death. The Demonic Calamity is ferocious, the demonic clans savage—seemingly bent on exterminating humanity. Yet, there remains a sliver of hope: the Calamity appears once every hundred years, lasting a month each time. If one can withstand that month, what remains is the seed of survival, a flicker of hope within the catastrophe.

The Island of Peerless Martialists appears unpredictably in the world. On the island, countless unparalleled martial arts are found, and experts abound—even those who have attained the False Elixir are commonplace. There is talk of the Demon Tower, which has thirteen levels; those who conquer all thirteen may leave the island. The martial world only knows that those who emerge from the island possess astounding martial prowess and overshadow all others, but in truth, how many realize that for every several hundred thousand or even millions who enter, fewer than one in ten thousand return? Some say it is as rare as one in a hundred thousand, or even one in a million.

Thus, it is truly a case of survival against impossible odds.

If the Demonic Calamity indiscriminately slaughters all life, then the Island of Peerless Martialists gathers only the elite and subjects them to a trial where survival is a rare reward. At their core, the two are not so different.

The old monk emerged from the Island of Peerless Martialists, having conquered the thirteen levels of the Demon Tower. He returned to face the Demonic Calamity, winning a thread of hope for all living beings. But who knows that entering the island is hard, and leaving it even harder? Even those who barely escape can hardly claim to have found happiness.

Bitterness followed by sweetness—such a thing has never appeared here.

“No matter who you are, since you have been targeted by the Island of Peerless Martialists with such fanfare, there must be something extraordinary about you. If you can overcome this ordeal, perhaps humanity truly has a glimmer of hope!” The old monk lowered his head and murmured to himself. He knew well the terrifying power of the island. Even with his current strength, he would never have caught the island's notice. Yet now, two people who have never even set foot on the island have drawn its attention.

This stirred a faint hope in the old monk's heart. Perhaps... perhaps...

“Maybe these two can change the current state of things!” As the thought grew clearer in his mind, he paused, then suddenly laughed at himself. “How could that be possible!”

...

Zhou Yi and his companion stood in silence for a long time, lost in thought. At last, they drew a deep breath, turned, and left the inn. Huang Yue and her companion, for reasons unknown, followed quietly behind, none of them speaking a word.

Boom!

They had walked for an indeterminate time when suddenly the space ahead seemed to tremble. The air pulsed in concentric waves, and all of them started, looking forward and halting in their tracks.

Soon, a procession of golden figures approached—large, bald heads gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight. Zhou Yi counted eighteen in all, and his heart leapt: the Eighteen Bronze Men.

“The Arhat Hall—the Eighteen Arhats!” Before Zhou Yi could settle his thoughts, Huang Yue's willow brows arched, and she exclaimed in shock.

“Hmm?” Hearing her words, the leading Arhat glanced at the group, his gaze settling coldly on Huang Yue. “This has nothing to do with you. Leave now.”

“Hmm?” At these words, the group exchanged glances, their expressions shifting with surprise and suspicion.

“What could have happened?” Daoist Qiufeng, calm by nature, saw the Arhats' unfriendly bearing and wondered silently.

“Nothing to do with us?” Huang Yue's eyes swept over her party—Zhou Yi, Song Hai, Daoist Qiufeng, and herself: four in total.

He said 'you,' which must mean at least two people. Zhou Yi and Song Hai were clearly together, so it was obvious—the 'you' referred to her and Qiufeng.

“For the Eighteen Arhats of the Arhat Hall to appear, something serious must have happened!” Now understanding their target, Huang Yue's eyes flashed as she asked with a bright smile, “Might I know what has happened?”

The lead Arhat looked at her, frowned, and after a moment's thought, decided it was no secret.

“By the order of the Island of Peerless Martialists: bring the heads of those two, and your sect may be protected from the Demonic Calamity once.”

He withheld part of the truth, not revealing that the sect who delivered the heads would actually be protected twice. Although he and his fellows had no fear, it was best to avoid unnecessary trouble.

For now, the best course was to act swiftly, secure the prize, and avoid complications.

“What?” At these words, all were left stunned.

The Island of Peerless Martialists? How could that be?

Leng Feng from the island had only just been here; how could such a thing happen so suddenly? It made no sense.

Moreover, it was even more puzzling that Leng Feng had just given Zhou Yi and Song Hai tokens to enter the island, and now, in the blink of an eye, there was a bounty on their heads. Even Huang Yue and Daoist Qiufeng had not received such tokens—only Zhou Yi and Song Hai. This alone showed the island’s interest in the pair. Why, then, would they issue such a bounty?

“May I ask, where did you hear this news?” Daoist Qiufeng’s eyes flashed as he quietly gathered his inner strength, asking in a calm voice.

“That’s right!” Huang Yue chimed in, gathering her energy, ready to act at any sign of trouble.

“What, do you doubt the truth of this news?” The lead Arhat, no weakling himself, sensed their subtle movements and asked coldly.

“It’s no secret—the message came by command talisman from the Island of Peerless Martialists. Every great sect in the martial world has received it. If you doubt it, go ask around—you’ll find out soon enough!” Without waiting for a reply, the lead Arhat continued coldly.

“Will you handle it yourselves, or do you need our help?” With that, he turned away from the two frozen listeners and addressed Zhou Yi and Song Hai, his voice icy.

“May I know your names?” In contrast to Huang Yue and Daoist Qiufeng, Zhou Yi and Song Hai remained calm, and Zhou Yi addressed the lead Arhat in an even tone.

Their composure was not surprising. After all, neither truly understood the fearsome reputation of the Island of Peerless Martialists. Even with some explanation from Huang Yue and Qiufeng, their knowledge was too shallow to inspire dread. Moreover, despite the fact that the Eighteen Arhats before them were all at the Innate level, Zhou Yi and Song Hai regarded them with little concern. If things turned serious, not to mention Zhou Yi, even Song Hai could easily dispatch several of them.

Given all this, their calm demeanor was only natural.

“Dragon Subduer!” The attitude of Zhou Yi and Song Hai caught the lead Arhat’s attention. He had never imagined anyone could remain so composed in the face of a death order from the Island of Peerless Martialists. Secretly impressed, his demeanor softened a little.