Chapter 045: The Stronger, the Greater the Fear of Death

"Mountain-Splitting Sword!"

Just as the enormous tiger had retreated less than ten feet, Mu Tianhen let out a thunderous shout, raising his sword and launching his attack.

With a piercing sound, the sword’s light erupted, its aura condensed and focused. In the blink of an eye, it reached the tiger, slashing upward from its abdomen to its skull at blinding speed.

A crimson curtain of blood burst from the beast, like a waterfall of fresh blood suddenly appearing in midair, instantly dyeing a swath of grass scarlet—a truly horrifying sight.

The giant tiger didn’t even have time to utter a sound. Its momentum carried it forward, and it crashed heavily to the ground, still in the posture of fleeing.

With a dull thud, the impact formed a shallow pit in the earth, mud and grass flying in all directions, reduced to tattered fragments.

The tiger lay motionless, sprawled lifeless on the ground, its vitality completely extinguished. Only the ever-flowing blood remained, pooling into a strange stream that vanished into the depths of the grass.

In that instant, the savage beasts that had just been charging at Mu Tianhen in a frenzy were all struck with terror. None dared to continue their assault; they stood frozen, even forgetting to flee.

It wasn’t just the beasts—even those watching from the distant tree hollow, including Mu Tianxue and the others, were dumbfounded by Mu Tianhen’s stroke.

That sword seemed utterly simple, almost devoid of technique or form—just a casual upward slash, like something a novice might attempt.

Yet with that single, unremarkable move, he had instantly slain a giant tiger whose cultivation had reached the level of a six-star elite. The beast had no chance to resist, no time to react.

If any of them had faced such an opponent, the result would have been the same: instant death.

The sword was simply too swift—so fast that there was no hope of evasion, no time to respond; one could only watch helplessly as the blade pierced the body and life ebbed away.

Not only the creatures and people within the illusion, but even the spectators in reality wore similar expressions.

All stared, mouths agape and eyes wide, at the boy with the sword in the bronze mirror and the massive tiger’s corpse not far from him.

Though none could ascertain the tiger’s precise cultivation, its sheer size and the ferocity of its attack made it clear: it was no weakling.

Many concluded that none present could have withstood such a beast—perhaps only Mu Qianyuan might stand a chance.

In other words, that beast was at least a five-star elite—an existence utterly unmatched by anyone else.

Yet such a ferocious monster was felled by a single blow from Mu Tianhen. What did this imply about his cultivation? None dared to speculate.

Of course, everyone comforted themselves: this was merely an illusion, not reality. Even though the real Mu Tianhen had indeed changed—becoming noticeably stronger—he could not possibly be that powerful.

At best, he might be at the sixth tier of the Sky-Gazing Mirror, a small step above Mu Qianyuan. To match the strongest in Shun’an City was still a distant prospect.

The city’s foremost expert was Dai Changfeng, patriarch of the Dai family, whose cultivation was said to have reached the ninth level of the Sky-Gazing Mirror—on the verge of the Thunder Tribulation Realm.

Just one opportunity, and he could summon the thunder tribulation, break through the Sky-Gazing Mirror, and become the first in Shun’an City’s history to reach the Thunder Tribulation Realm—a true superlative figure.

Even so, as long as Mu Tianhen didn’t provoke the Dai family or threaten their survival, he could comfortably claim the city’s top spot in practical terms.

After all, Dai Changfeng had been in seclusion for twenty years, wholly focused on deciphering the secrets of heaven and breaking through to the Thunder Tribulation Realm to extend his life.

All cultivators understood: the higher one’s cultivation, the longer one’s lifespan.

For example, ordinary people lived about a hundred years. Once someone awakened their martial veins and became a cultivator, their life could be extended by fifty years.

Reaching the Blood-Burning Realm brought another hundred years, totaling two hundred and fifty years.

The Sky-Gazing Mirror gave an even greater boost, extending lifespan directly to a thousand years.

A breakthrough to the Thunder Tribulation Realm would grant heaven’s approval, adding another nine thousand years—a life of ten thousand years.

Above that was the True Martial Realm, with a lifespan of fifty thousand years; the Martial Marquis Realm, one hundred thousand; the Martial King Realm, one million years; the Martial Emperor Realm, five million; the Martial Sovereign Realm, ten million; and the Martial Exalt Realm, one hundred million years.

At the level of Martial Exalt, one had essentially achieved immortality, living a hundred million years—enough to witness the rise and fall of countless clans and empires, even the birth and destruction of worlds.

Yet to transcend the Martial Exalt Realm and enter the Divine Martial Realm was extraordinarily difficult; few survived the terrifying thunder tribulation, and most perished in the attempt.

But for those who succeeded, it was a qualitative leap. Not only did their power multiply countless times, but their lifespan leapt to ten billion years!

What did that mean?

The stars in the heavens mostly lived only about ten billion years. Thus, reaching the Divine Martial Realm, one’s lifespan equaled that of the stars.

It was the legendary state of living as long as the heavens, shining alongside the stars.

Even so, this was not true immortality. There was still a reckoning with time. After ten billion years, one would perish and become a memory.

Hence the legends of the ancient gods—for even they must die.

Above the Divine Martial Realm, there existed a higher realm: the Martial Saint Realm, an existence spoken of only in dreams.

It was said that upon reaching the Martial Saint Realm, the concept of lifespan ceased to exist. Death was no longer possible; even the heavens would yield before such a being.

One would fully transcend all worlds, surpass reincarnation—truly undying, eternal, and imperishable.

Yet this remained a fantasy—no one had ever actually seen a true Martial Saint. The highest known was the ninth level of the Divine Martial Realm, the tier of the Azure Lotus Emperor.

Even among those, there were only nine recorded in history: two human cultivators, three from the demon clan, two from the beast tribe, one from the spirit race, and one from the monster clan.

Clearly, reaching such heights was unimaginably difficult.

Most cultivators met their end along the way, as was the fate of the majority. But even so, all continued to strive upward, hoping to become that legend.

The higher one climbed, the more one feared death—the more one craved time, the more one sought to ascend.

Like Dai Changfeng: though he had become the strongest in Shun’an City, reached the ninth level of the Sky-Gazing Mirror—something most could never hope to achieve—he was still unsatisfied.

A thousand years might seem an eternity to many, but to Dai Changfeng, it was far too brief—he had already lived nine hundred years.

With only a century left, his end was approaching. So he secluded himself, hoping for a breakthrough to extend his life.

Thus, unless the Dai family faced utter destruction, Dai Changfeng would not emerge. At present, Mu Tianhen was, in all practical terms, the preeminent power in Shun’an City.

Many who had once conflicted with Mu Tianhen were now pondering how to make amends, how to resolve old grievances.

Of course, everyone hoped this was all just illusion—a trick of the mind wrought by the dreamscape.

With thoughts swirling, everyone continued to watch the great bronze mirror, their eyes fixed upon Mu Tianhen within the illusion.