Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 856.15: The Statue of Chong Li

Chapter 856.15: The Statue of Chong Li

…

Disregarding the two mighty immortals getting thrashed by the pair of bronze statues, Chen Huaian guided the team directly to the palace atop the suspended peak.

The journey along this path proved lengthy, yet no beasts ambushed them along the way.

Upon stepping past the entrance of the grand hall, a spacious, barren chamber confronted them, infused with a primordial aura of slaughter.

The chamber held no shrines to gods or buddhas. A single statue loomed alone at its heart.

This figure wasn't a multi-headed, multi-armed divinity, but rather a mortal general in battered armor, clutching a fractured spear.

Despite being stone, the sculpture captured vivid realism, particularly in the eyes. They didn't gaze toward the doorway but locked onto the vacant expanse overhead. Fissures at the eye edges hinted at streams of bloody tears, while inside blazed an unquenched inferno of fury and defiance enduring over millennia.

"Hiss—! This… this thing looks even fiercer than those two Door Gods just now?"

Wang Shouyi had barely edged nearer for a better view when the savage, mournful killing intent radiating from the statue sent shivers through him. He recoiled three steps on instinct, ducking behind Zhang Yibai. "Senior Zhang, this thing won't come to life too, will it? This aura… if it really 'came alive,' the four of us probably wouldn't be enough for him to poke with one spear."

"Do not speak nonsense. This is merely a dead object." Zhang Yibai's brow furrowed as his fingers gently brushed the weathered scars on the statue's base. "Furthermore, from the armor's design—archaic, plain, and coarse—it bears no likeness to modern immortal garb. It resembles more the fashion from the fabled ancient 'Human Emperor Era.'"

Chen Huaian stayed silent. He advanced gradually to stand before the statue.

To his senses, it was nothing more than a plain rock effigy, devoid of spiritual energy ripples or hints of traps or arrays.

Yet the instant he halted motionless, an abrupt shift unfolded.

Across the statue's pale gray stone skin, rows of golden script abruptly materialized.

The script's strokes were bold but rushed, as if etched amid desperate haste and iron will. Every glyph pulsed with a bleak, fatalistic resolve.

Chen Huaian glanced about. Zhang Yibai and the rest wandered the hall, prodding and rapping at objects randomly, utterly unaware of the golden words.

This message was intended for one particular individual.

Maybe for a "fellow soul," or due to his unique spirit.

None but he could perceive it.

Chen Huaian concentrated, fixing his eyes on the golden inscription.

It formed a missive to his spouse.

Or more precisely, a dying declaration.

[To my wife, A-Man:

Seeing these words is like seeing my face.

By the time you see this letter, I should already be gone. Do not weep. Do not search for me.

Emperor Zhuan Xu has made up his mind to carry out the act of 'Severing Heaven from Earth.'

The things above this sky are not the deities of legend who protect all living beings. They are thieves who steal the Heavenly Dao, man-eating evil ghosts!

They feed on all living beings, using the cycle of reincarnation as their plate. In their eyes, we humans are merely livestock, pigs and dogs.

Today, I will follow the Emperor to kill our way up to the Nine Heavens, sever the Jianmu tree, cut off this pathway between heaven and earth, and fight for a sliver of hope for our human race!

This journey is fraught with peril, with little chance of return.

If I do not come back, you must take the child, change your names, go to the farthest western lands, and live as ordinary mortals.

Remember, remember… never, ever cultivate immortality!

If Heaven has eyes, may we be reborn as a pair of wild deer in the mountains, unconcerned with the fate of the world, unconcerned with gods and ghosts.

Your husband, Chong Li, final testament.]

Chong Li?

Chen Huaian's pupils shrank abruptly.

In ancient lore, this figure was the famed Heavenly Director who "Severed Heaven from Earth," parting mortal and divine realms—a genuine legend.

Yet here, battling against "devouring fiend gods"?

Were those deities the Celestial God Clan?

Before deeper reflection struck Chen Huaian, a colossal pulling force erupted from the golden script, yanking his awareness free from his flesh!

Boom—!

Quiet in his ears shattered at once, supplanted by thunderous war shouts and metallic collisions booming like thunder.

Chen Huaian's eyes flew wide.

He no longer occupied the vacant hall but a carnage-strewn battlefield of piled dead and blood oceans!

He had seemingly "turned into" Chong Li.

The spear gripped in his hand dripped crimson, weighing like molten lead.

He sensed keenly the body's fatigue, searing agony, and chest-searing rage on the verge of eruption.

All around, myriad human fighters in beast hides and primitive arms bellowed charges. Their bodies formed a bulwark against the reversed celestial river's torrent.

And foes opposite…

Chen Huaian lifted his gaze, breath catching sharply.

Could those pass for gods?!

Crowding the skies above, grotesque entities swarmed in profusion.

Enveloped in golden luminescence, their exteriors projected sanctity.

But concealed in that glow lurked coiling tentacles, myriad faceted eyes, and churning pallid meat.

Perched aloft, they wore feigned merciful grins while brandishing blades like banquet revelers.

"Kill!!!"

"Chong Li" unleashed a bellow, treading emptiness, his form a streaking blaze hurtling into foe ranks like a comet.

The spear danced dragon-like, every thrust wielding world-shattering might. Pure mortal vitality fueled it, drawing no heavenly aid, pursuing sole supremacy from within!

Chen Huaian experienced the body's boiling battle zeal. In that instant, he fused with this primordial war deity.

He blasted a three-faced "phony bodhisattva" airborne, skewered an eye-blanketed "sham heavenly king."

Golden godly ichor rained, scorching the ground into craters with acrid hisses.

He lost track of battle's span or slaughter's tally.

Till ultimately, he alone endured amid heaven and earth.

Then skies rent asunder.

A palm beyond mortal scale breached tribulation clouds, descending leisurely.

No lines marked that hand, save tormented human visages writhing and shrieking, exuding soul-crushing hopelessness.

Against this titan grasp, "Chong Li" dwindled to mote.

No contest remained.

Spear fragmented. Form crumbled.

In death's penultimate beat, Chen Huaian's mind recoiled to bystander view.

He witnessed Chong Li, clinging to final breath, hurl a defiant howl at the abyssal colossus.

That cry pierced eras, booming into Chen Huaian's spirit core:

"Person of later generations… if fate allows you to see this…"

"Remember! Remember!!!"

"The gods! Must not be looked upon directly!!!"

Chong Li's fading soul ignited, crumbling to dust, echo persisting.

"They live in the crevices of perception… all that is seen is falsehood!"

"Once you look directly upon their true forms, your five senses will be stripped away, your perception will be tampered with, you will… become a part of them!"

"Close your eyes! Use your heart to strike!!!"

"Ah—!!!"

Amid final anguished scream, the vision fractured like glass.

…

"Hoo…"

Chen Huaian drew a ragged gasp, body drenched as from submersion, spine slick with icy sweat.

He clenched the sword grip reflexively, knuckles blanching. Heart hammered wildly, despair's shadow clinging.

Gazing ahead once more.

The silent hall lay unchanged. Zhang Yibai examined a nearby mural. Wang Shouyi lurked by a column, peeking statue-ward. Gu Changsheng polished his artifacts.

All appeared untouched by events.

Golden script had faded traceless.

Solely the statue endured, cracked eyes still upward-fixed, mutely recounting.

Prior, Chen Huaian hadn't grasped.

Now he did—what the statue 'uttered.'

"Must not be looked upon directly…"

Chen Huaian whispered, expression turning profoundly somber.

Might this hold a vital counter to the Celestial God Clan?

"Brother Chen? What's wrong with you? So much sweat?"

Then Gu Changsheng spotted Chen Huaian's odd pallor and approached, bemused. "Was breaking the formation just now too taxing? Why is your face so pale?"

"It's nothing."

Chen Huaian eased off the Black Scales Sword's hilt, exhaled deeply, resuming composure. Yet eyes harbored a subtle icy gleam.

"I just… watched a rather long play."

…