The Lord God Descends into League of Legends - Chapter 7

(Thanks to: Mechanical Doupo for the 2100 Qidian Coin reward, Big Deal for the 200 Qidian Coin reward, and Heavenly Emperor Lu Hao for the Qidian Coin reward. Another chapter will be released this afternoon—thanks everyone for the support!)

The blazing sun hung high in the sky. Beneath the azure heavens, a few white clouds drifted lazily.

Mountains undulated like slumbering dragons. Verdant trees and dense, ancient forests cloaked the entire range.

At the summit of a two-hundred-zhang-high mountain, Mo Chen gazed at the endless mountain ranges all around, his expression grim. “Lord God, do you have anything you’d like to explain?”

“Because the cycle of reincarnation has shattered, the order of the vast void is in chaos, and many worlds have slipped out of control, producing anomalies. World collisions and fusions are a normal phenomenon. The Executor need not concern himself. Moreover, with the fusion of two worlds, the Jin Yong world has undergone evolution. The world’s upper limit is no longer the Innate Peak.” The Lord God’s voice was calm, as though none of this had anything to do with it.

“At last, some good news. But tell me—what time and place am I in right now?” Mo Chen raised an eyebrow at those words, a hint of joy flickering in his eyes.

The increase of a world’s upper limit in terms of power—that was indeed good news. It meant he had room to grow stronger here, and his plan to reshape this world now held more promise.

A world could ascend either through the evolution of its native beings, which lifted it up with them, or through collisions and fusions with other worlds. But the latter method was extremely dangerous, a misstep away from mutual destruction.

Fortunately, the fusion of The Sword of the Yue Maiden and The Legend of Qin had succeeded. Otherwise, Mo Chen would have had no world left to traverse—and this was his only chance.

“It is now 551 BC. The Executor is in the southern borderlands of Chu. Due to the world fusion, mission statistics are temporarily unavailable. Please wait a moment.”

“551 BC? That means The Legend of Qin’s storyline won’t begin for another three or four hundred years, and even The Sword of the Yue Maiden is seventy or eighty years away.” Mo Chen’s face darkened instantly. What a cursed time to have crossed into!

At this era, Laozi Li Er was not yet twenty, Confucius had just been born, and many of the founders of the Hundred Schools of Thought had yet to even appear. By the time Xi Shi was born, he could practically be her great-grandfather!

Mo Chen raised his head to the sky. His snow-white robes fluttered in the harsh mountain wind, and his shoulder-length black hair danced freely behind him.

After a moment, his dark hair whipping, his calm expression burst into hearty laughter. “Hahaha! What an amusing, wondrous age!”

If most of the Hundred Schools had yet to emerge, if the saints of later times had only just arrived, then let him add his own stroke to this vibrant age. If the seeds of martial arts were sown throughout the land, if the path of Qi Refinement flourished in the world, what surprises and rewards might they bring him?

Mo Chen’s eyes gleamed like polished ink, his heart surging with the exhilaration of stirring an entire era’s destiny.

“In the beginning, who passed down the Way? When above and below were not yet formed, how could one seek it?”

Having thought it through, Mo Chen’s heart was free of knots. He ignored the sheer cliffs before him and stepped onto the void, striding northward.

He recited Qu Yuan’s Heavenly Questions aloud. Three blossoms swayed above his head, his white robes billowing as he rode the breeze across the sky, each step upon the air blooming ripples like lotus flowers beneath his feet.

His voice rang out, resounding across the mountains, as though from beyond the heavens, stirring awe in all who heard it.

At the foot of the mountain, a caravan of several hundred people struggled along a rugged path. A hundred guards in matching blue tunics and armed with weapons walked with steady strides, sure-footed even on the rough mountain trail.

In the middle of the caravan were over two hundred female slaves, clothed in ragged cloth or simple hides. Their scant coverings did little to conceal their graceful figures. Most were bare-breasted, their only modesty a strip of gray cloth tied around the waist.

Their features differed clearly from those of the Central Plains: sun-browned skin glowed with a healthy sheen beneath the dappled sunlight, high-bridged noses and crimson lips carrying a wild beauty.

At the caravan’s head, a thin, wrinkled old man rode a short horse, leading the way while glancing back from time to time. He wore a pale green robe with black patterns stitched along the edges.

When the song rang out, the old man’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked about.

“This song—it’s a folk tune of Chu. Yet we are near the southern borders of Yue. Who could be here, singing so boldly?” He scanned the surroundings but saw no singer, astonished.

“Lie, can you locate the voice?” the old man turned to the burly man on his right.

Lie was the caravan’s best hunter, able to strike a fly at a hundred paces and locate the fall of a silver needle amidst the beat of war drums.

Standing nearly six chi tall, towering over the others, his sharp eyes glinted like those of an eagle. Stern-faced and long-haired, he closed his eyes and listened, his ears twitching.

After a moment, he looked up to the heavens. There, two hundred zhang above, a lone figure walked upon the void, striding northward like a god. His pace was not fast, but each step carried him more than ten zhang.

Lie’s eyes widened, his calm features twitching violently with shock.

Could gods truly walk this earth? His heart trembled as he watched the figure vanish into the distance.

The old man’s guards, seeing Lie’s expression change, also turned to look. Though they could not see as clearly as him, they respected his word.

Time and again, in their perilous southern expeditions, it was Lie who had led them out of death’s grip.

Suddenly, Lie dropped to his knees, his massive frame shaking. He bowed deeply toward the departing figure.

His unexpected act brought the entire caravan to a halt. All eyes turned toward him, confused.

“God!” Lie declared, eyes burning with fervor as he prostrated himself.

The old man started, then realized: Lie was answering his question. The song came from a god.

“It truly is a god!” Two more guards cried out with wild faces, collapsing to the ground to kowtow toward the north.

A stir swept the caravan. If only Lie had said so, they might have doubted. But now the three sharpest-eyed among them had all spoken. Doubt and awe gnawed at their hearts.

“Zi Xiao, tell me—what did you see?” The old man turned to one of the kneeling men.

The youth was in his twenties, dressed more finely than the common guards, showing his higher status.

“Uncle, there was someone in the sky—no, a god! He walked upon lotus blossoms, his body shining with divine radiance, each step carrying him across the void!” Zi Xiao’s face glowed with reverence.

The old man stroked his beard, lifting his gaze skyward. The heavens were calm, empty of gods.

“Legends speak of Qi Refiners dwelling in desolate mountains and marshes, feeding on breath and singing through the wilds. Could it be we’ve encountered a true cultivator?”

He was long past the age of fifty, well-versed in the hidden ways of the world. Strange beings and Qi Refinement were no secrets to him.

Chu’s foremost swordsman, Chu Kuangge, was a Qi Refiner whose blade emitted three chi of sword qi, cutting iron like mud. The Chu priestess, Yue Linglong, possessed eyes that could see the future, her astrology bordering on divine.

But one who could ride the wind, singing as he strode across the heavens—such a cultivator, he had never heard of. That cultivation was already close to godhood.

The old man’s gaze lingered on the skies, his heart torn between joy and unease.