Chinese animation: Starting with Bad Guys

Like a hot knife cutting through solidified butter.

The light shield, which embodied the lifelong cultivation of Duokuohuo and was powerful enough to withstand any divine weapon in the world, was silently annihilated the moment it came into contact with the Yinshan Blade Qi.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, no raging torrent of energy clashes, only the most complete dissolution and disintegration.

The trajectory of the blade's energy gently passed through Dokoho's body.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

Dokoho maintained a fully defensive posture, his eyes wide open beneath the cloth strip, filled with disbelief, a deep-seated fear, and a kind of... utter deathly silence after a sudden realization.

She felt no pain, only a coldness and detachment that came from the depths of her soul.

Three hundred years of struggle, three hundred years of scheming, ultimately ended by the power of the Yinshan Mountain itself, which had both imprisoned and nurtured her.

Her innate ability to sense the five elements and six energies allowed her to clearly "taste" the extreme irony of being ended by her own "homeland".

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but only a wisp of smoke mixed with grayish-white smoke drifted out from the gap in the cloth strip.

That powerful body, which had stood for three hundred years, was like a weathered sand sculpture, rapidly turning into the finest dust from the spot where the blade's energy had slashed through, and then fluttering down.

In the instant before she completely vanished, she seemed to see herself as a young girl running freely in the Yinshan Mountains, to see the excruciating pain and terror of the Huayang needle piercing the back of her neck, and to see the three hundred years of lonely years that had passed in this cage-like mountain belly...

In the end, everything was reduced to the darkness of Yinshan, which held all her love, hate, and passion.

The mountain wind howled as it passed through the mountainside, stirring up the thin layer of ash on the ground, swirling for a moment, and finally disappearing without a trace.

It was as if the northern sage named Dokoho had never existed here.

Absolute silence enveloped the mountainside.

Shuliduo collapsed to the ground, her eyes glazed over, as if her spine had been removed. She murmured unconsciously, "Saint... Saint..." Her faith had completely crumbled.

The three Corpse Ancestors slowly wiped the blood from the corners of their mouths, watching Qin Chuan withdraw the hand that seemed to have never moved, their eyes filled with extreme complexity.

For the first time, they clearly realized just how unfathomable and almost divine power this young marshal possessed.

That's not just a difference in skill level, but a world of difference in understanding of the rules of heaven and earth.

Gathering the spiritual energy of Yinshan to kill the sage who can sense the Five Elements and Six Qi... this is beyond human capability!

Qin Chuan lightly dusted off non-existent dust from his sleeves, as if he had simply brushed away an annoying flying insect.

He looked down at the surrendered official who was still slumped on the ground with a blank look in his eyes, and sighed softly. The sigh echoed in the mountain, like the sigh of the entire Yinshan Mountain.

“The obsession has been broken, the cage has been shattered. Surrendered subject, or rather, Naren, it’s time for you to be yourself again. Siyudan is long gone.”

The wind crept in from the cracks in the rocks, swirling the fine sand on the ground, as if singing a lingering melody for three hundred years of entanglement, before disappearing into the deeper darkness.

The surrendered minister's eyelashes trembled, and tears slid from the corners of his eyes, hitting the rocky ground and leaving a small wet patch.

Siyu Dan died long ago.

Naren is the one who will survive.

Chapter 122 The Chaotic Era is Coming to an End, and the Future is Long

"No! Absolutely not! I must still be trapped in the illusion of the Nine Nether Profound Heaven Divine Art!"

Shuliduo has gone completely mad.

The Queen Yingtian, whose hair was once styled in a high bun like flowing clouds and whose phoenix hairpin shone brightly in the sun, now had her black hair disheveled like wild grass, covered with dust and dark red bloodstains. Where was the dignified demeanor of a mother in the northern desert?

She stared intently at the direction where Duokuohuo had collapsed with a crash in the distance, her pupils shattered like a spider web, filled with disbelief—that was a saint who had existed for three hundred years, how could he… how could he be cut down by Qin Chuan with a single stroke like mowing grass?

"what--!"

A piercing scream tore through the north wind of Yinshan, carrying with it a despair as if tattered silk.

She suddenly drew the curved sword from Shiri Kika's waist; its cold light flashed like lightning, and she slashed straight at her own left hand.

She needs pain, she needs that sharp sensation to tear apart the "illusion" before her eyes, so she can return to the reality where she can still control everything!

"Mother!" Yelü Zhiwu's exclamation was laced with sobs, like a feather crumpled by the wind.

"Queen!" Shiri Kika's hand shot out like lightning, her fingertips making a sharp, piercing sound as they cut through the air.

But it was too slow after all.

The fingertips had barely brushed against her trembling wrist when the scimitar had already bitten into flesh and bone. The dull cutting sound and the crisp sound of blood splattering were particularly jarring in the deathly silent cave.

Her severed arm slammed to the ground with a thud, and blood instantly soaked the hem of her purple dress, resembling the wolf head blood pattern she had embroidered on the banner herself years ago.

"Why...why..."

The excruciating pain felt like a venomous snake burrowing into her bone marrow; cold sweat soaked her clothes, yet everything around her remained terrifyingly clear.

The mountain had the outline of Yinshan, the wind was as fierce as that of the northern frontier, and Qin Chuan's cold eyes were fixed on her without blinking.

She didn't wake up. This wasn't a hallucination.

Shuliduo's face turned deathly pale. Her grip on the knife loosened, and the curved blade clattered to the ground, rolling a long way on the stone slab before finally crashing into the rock wall with a weak whimper.

Just then, Qin Chuan suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but like an arrow tempered with the icy chill of the north, piercing straight into her ears: "Emperor Yelü Abaoji of the Great Liao Dynasty has decreed—"

He paused, then spoke with crystal clarity:

"Queen Shuliduo, for her own selfish desires, raised an army in rebellion, and her crime deserves death. However, considering her many years of regency, her merits and demerits offset each other, and she is hereby pardoned and imprisoned in the dungeon, never to be released again. All her food and clothing shall be provided for without fail. So be it."

"Abaoji! You spineless coward!" Shuliduo suddenly looked up, her eyes bloodshot like burning wolf fire. "Even now, you still have the heart of a woman! Kill me! You should kill me!"

She would rather be sentenced to death and die with the dignity of a queen than be locked in a dungeon, watching the daylight leak through the iron bars day after day, like a caged beast with broken wings.

"It's fake...it's all fake..."

But as soon as her desperate scream subsided, she began to murmur again, like a drowning person grasping at the last piece of driftwood.

She staggered to pick up the curved knife from the ground, this time pointing the tip at her own neck.

But Shili Qixiang was prepared, and with a flick of her wrist, she disarmed her. Yelü Zhiwu also clung tightly to her waist, tears falling onto her clothes: "Mother! Please don't do this! I beg you!"

The scimitar fell to the ground again with a dull thud of despair, as if tolling a death knell for her struggle.

Shuliduo felt as if all her strength had been drained away. She collapsed in her daughter's arms, staring at her empty left wrist, where blood was still gushing out. The pain made her teeth chatter and her whole body tremble uncontrollably.

So it was true... It was all real.

She lost. She lost so badly that she didn't even have the right to die.

"Your Majesty," Qin Chuan's voice rang out again, calm as if he were talking about something insignificant, "wipe away your tears, and don't let anyone see."

Shuliduo froze, her eyes blurred with tears as she looked up.

"Isn't this what you always teach Xiaowu?"

He looked at her, his gaze devoid of mockery, containing only an almost cruel calm:

“You said that as royalty, tears are the most useless thing. Now you’re crying in front of so many people, making Xiao Wu laugh at you. A mother should always set an example.”

These words were like a rusty, dull knife, slowly cutting through her last layer of armor.

She used to pinch Yelü Zhiwu's chin, forcing her to hold back her tears, saying, "You are destined to be the number one person in the northern desert. If you cry, you lose."

But now, this mother who taught others "not to cry" is lying on the ground like a shrew, crying so hard that her whole body is convulsing.

"Waaaah..."

The long-suppressed sobs finally broke free, like a child whose candy had been stolen, or a pitiful person abandoned by the whole world.

The cries, mingled with the wind from beyond the Great Wall, echoed against the stone walls of Yinshan Mountain, making one's heart tighten.

It turns out that even the most powerful and ruthless tyrant, when he collapses, is nothing more than an ordinary person whose pride has been crushed.

Blood was still flowing, tears were still falling, and the era of Queen Yingtian was finally buried in the dust of Yinshan with this desperate cry.

Several days later, at the foot of Yinshan Mountain.

Qin Chuan had personally pushed open the heavy stone gate of Jiu Gai, and the inside was empty, not even the wind bothered to linger—those legends that the world had fought over were all for naught.

Outside Jiugai, a small shop suddenly sprang up, with green tiles and wooden beams, exuding a sense of everyday life.

Qin Chuan, along with Yelü Abaoji and his daughter Yelü Zhiwu, became the shop's first group of VIPs.

The mutilated, decaying corpse, the defeated minister, was smiling as he greeted the guests.

The Netherworld Sea Without End Ying Gou Corpse Ancestor puffed out his cheeks and played the suona, but the tune was inexplicably festive.

Blood stained the rivers and mountains, Hou Qing's corpse ancestor lowered his eyes and played the bone flute, the flute's sound clear and melodious.

The scorched earth corpse ancestor, Hanba, wearing an apron, was busy in front of the stove, the firelight making his profile glow red.

"Brother Qin, I am deeply grateful and cannot express my thanks in words. I will only offer you a cup of wine to show my gratitude."

Yelü Abaoji raised his cup, the wine shimmering with tiny sparkles, a gesture that was both an expression of gratitude and a farewell.

Next, Qin Chuan will return to the Central Plains to finally end the chaotic world that has lingered for so many years.

Qin Chuan didn't say much, but tilted his head back and drank several cups with him, the wine carrying a slight intensity as it went down his throat.

Even Yelü Zhiwu, who never drank alcohol before, picked up his wine glass, took a small sip, and the wine clung to the corner of his lips like a touch of sunset.

After finishing his meal, Qin Chuan stood up and walked out of the shop.

"You surrendered ancestor, do you really intend to stay in the northern desert and guard this little shop?"

He paused slightly, looking at the surrendered officials who were smiling as they saw him off.

"When you're alive, you always need something to look forward to. This little shop will be my something to look forward to from now on."

The surrendered official smiled charmingly, a hint of warmth in his eyes:

"If you miss me, come visit me more often."

That's good.

Qin Chuan smiled upon hearing this.

The surrendered official has now returned to being that interesting person.

"When you become emperor, you'll definitely be a very busy person, and you probably won't have much time to run around aimlessly."

The surrendered official suddenly took Ying Gou's arm and said with a smile:

"How about I take Sister Liu and visit you in the Central Plains often?"

"It's a friendly exchange of martial arts skills."