allonlinenovel Chapter 976: The Battle of the Way of Slashing
Chapter 976: The Battle of the Way of Slashing
A bloody mist filled the observer dimension. The Hongmeng Pen in Chu Mochen's hand trembled violently, and the blood dripping from the tip of the pen sketched a twisted rune in the void. Yun Yao looked in the direction where her beloved son Chu Moyao had disappeared, her heart as if grasped by invisible claws. Just half a moment ago, the sixteen-year-old girl, guided by her spiritual consciousness, forcibly tore open the dimensional rift and entered this dangerous space alone.
"The observers are devouring Yao'er's essence!" Chu Mochen suddenly shouted, and the inky light emanating from the Hongmeng Pen was stained with blood. Yun Yao was startled to realize that within the countless diamond-shaped mirrors floating around her, her figure was constantly flashing by: her silver hair was entangled in chains, the chaotic energy in her eyes of the Creator God was dissipating, and behind her, nine observers in black robes formed a strange formation, trapping her in the center.
"Against the Heavens, open!" Yun Yao suddenly activated her secret technique, the vast cultivation of the Void Realm flowing back into the Chaos Godhead like a tide. Instantly, the space around her began to distort, and the consciousness of modern Su Yao and the power of the Godly Lord collided violently in her sea of consciousness. Memories pieced together like shattered mirrors, and she finally understood why she had always felt an inexplicable affinity for computers in the secular palace—it wasn't a time travel at all, but the instinctive call of her higher-dimensional self.
"So I've never left my creative side." Yun Yao chuckled, her Chaos Godhead radiating a brilliant golden light. Her figure began to overlap, half a princess in splendid attire, half a deity draped in starlight. "Since that's the case, let the characters rewrite the script themselves!"
From the depths of the observer dimension, a cold voice rang out: "Foolish ants, do you think you can escape from control by destroying the Heavenly Dao Palace? The Three Thousand Worlds are nothing more than a sandbox game in a higher dimension, and you... will always be samples to be observed." Nine men in black robes simultaneously lifted their hoods, revealing identical faces - surprisingly, they were the reflections of Yun Yao in her first life in the Heavenly Dao Palace.
"So it's you, the Servant of Order." Yun Yao's pupils shrank slightly. She finally remembered that it was this Servant named "Wu" who had stripped her of her godhood a thousand years ago. At this moment, Wu was shrouded in the dark laws of observation, and the thread of fate in his hand pierced Chu Moyao's heart.
"Yun Yao, hand over the Chaos Godhead, and I will spare your daughter's life." Wu's voice was emotionless. "Do you think you can resist fate? Look at these mirrors, they record you in countless parallel worlds - each one fell in despair." As the words fell, the surrounding mirrors lit up one after another, and Yun Yao saw different endings: some were killed by Liu Yan'er, some exploded and died when breaking through the Heavenly Dao realm, and some... actually became the new Heavenly Dao gods, but destroyed Chu Mochen with their own hands.
"Impossible!" Chu Mochen roared and swung the Hongmeng Pen, but the inky sword light dissipated the moment it touched the observer. Wu sneered, and the thread of fate in his hand suddenly surged, engulfing Chu Mochen in the formation: "Chu Mochen, do you think you are a godslayer? You are just a whetstone we cultivated."
Yun Yao looked at her trapped lover and daughter, her fury boiling like a volcano. At that moment, her system interface suddenly lit up—the bronze token suddenly appeared within her consciousness. The old woman's voice, with unprecedented seriousness, said, "Child, do you remember the first story you wrote in modern times? All creative work is, in essence, a rebellion against reality."
Memories flooded back like a tide. At that time, Su Yao was just an ordinary girl who typed on the keyboard late at night, using words to build her dreams. She suddenly smiled, with relief and determination in her laughter: "I understand."
The Chaos Godhead erupted with earth-shattering light, and Yun Yao's figure completely transformed into a twin form. She reached out and touched the void, and countless fragments of stories converged into a pen, which was exactly the same Hongmeng Pen in Chu Mochen's hand. "Since the Observer uses the thread of fate to control the world, then I will use the power of story to sever the shackles!"
Wu finally revealed a look of shock and anger: "How could you possibly... This is the power of a higher dimension!" But it was too late. Yun Yao waved her brush, and the power of countless stories transformed into a golden torrent, rushing towards the observer's formation. The characters she had once created emerged from the stories: the secular royal palace guards, the disciples of the cultivation world, and even Liu Yan'er, who had become the defender of the Heavenly Dao, all cheered her on.
"Back then, when I wrote the plot where Liu Yan'er framed the protagonist, I forgot to give her the right to choose." Yun Yao's voice echoed throughout the dimension. "And now, all the characters will rewrite their own destinies!" Liu Yan'er appeared beside her, holding the weapon transformed from the story generator. "Yun Yao, this time, I'll stand by your side!"
The observer's formation began to waver, but Wu was still fighting stubbornly: "Do you think you can win like this? Look at Chu Moyao, her essence is about to be exhausted!" Yun Yao turned her head and saw that Chu Moyao's figure became transparent, and the light in the eyes of the God of Creation dimmed.
"Yao'er!" Chu Mochen struggled frantically, but the thread of fate strangled him, drawing blood. At this moment, Yun Yao suddenly remembered something. She reached out and touched her own Chaos Godhead, unexpectedly separating a familiar aura from it—the inspiration for modern Su Yao's creation, pure and fiery.
“So that’s how it is…” Yun Yao poured inspiration into the Hongmeng Pen, and the tip of the pen burst into a dazzling white light. “The true power of storytelling never comes from godhood, but from every soul that believes in miracles!” She waved the brush and wrote in the void: “Chu Moyao, sixteen years old, has the courage to rewrite her destiny.”
The words transformed into chains, entwined around the observer's fate. Chu Moyao's figure refocused, her eyes of creation radiating an unprecedented light. She reached out and grasped the words Yun Yao had written, laughing loudly, "That's right, my destiny is written by me!"
Wu finally panicked, "This is impossible! The characters can't defy the script!" But Yun Yao and Chu Moyao had already swung their pens simultaneously, and the two story forces converged in mid-air, forming a massive "slash." The observer's formation collapsed, and the nine black-robed figures vanished in a flash of light. Wu roared a final roar, "You will regret this! The beings of higher dimensions will not let you go!"
"Then let them come!" Yun Yao held Chu Mochen's hand. "Our story has just begun." As the words fell, the observer dimension began to collapse, and the three of them disappeared in the light. In countless small worlds, all those who had been moved by the story saw the same dazzling galaxy—forged with courage and faith, the light of true counterattack.