When the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Role Picks Up the Script - Chapter 170

Because of the unique nature of his cultivation, Gu Shenshu was the first to sense the shifts between heaven and earth. Even when he resolved to kill Yun Peiran, he already knew—the heavens were collapsing.

Mountains crumbled, fire swept across the land, and seas rose to swallow the human world. Only the snowy peak where Tianyan Palace stood remained untouched, shielded by Rong Wuduan’s barrier—a fragile sanctuary amid a dying world.

From the black rift splitting the heavens, fiery rain poured down, streaking across the clouds like falling comets. In the distance, the surrounding mountains fractured and fell, the earth echoing with thunderous roars. Yet inside the barrier, silence reigned.

Beneath their feet, the snow remained unbroken, but something unseen stirred deep below. None of them noticed—each stood transfixed, staring at the ruin beyond the shimmering veil.

Heaven and earth were truly collapsing. Rong Wuduan was reshaping the world, sacrificing the old to create the new. If he succeeded, Tiandao Sect, Penglai, Lingshan, and Shanhai City alike would vanish. Even failure would bring destruction on a cosmic scale.

He had both the ambition—and the power.

He had to be stopped.

Seeing the chaos beyond the barrier, urgency swept through them.

“We can’t delay—” Penglai Immortal began, but Yun Zhuoran suddenly grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back. Penglai Immortal stumbled into Lu Yu, startled.

“What is it?” Lu Yu asked.

Yun Zhuoran’s gaze was fixed on the ground. “There’s something beneath the snow.”

Before he could finish, the surface around them erupted. Small mounds burst open one after another, snow flying as skeletal hands clawed their way out. 

The group retreated cautiously to the bluestone steps, where countless skeletons rose from the white earth like mushrooms after rain. Hundreds—no, thousands—of skeletons crawled free, their lower halves still buried, their bones faintly blackened.

Some wore remnants of tattered black-and-white robes—uniforms of Tianyan Palace disciples, Yun Zhuoran realized. These corpses had been preserved for millennia by Patriarch Chongyu of Lingshan Sect.

The Heart Demon stepped forward protectively, blocking Yun Zhuoran from harm. 

The sound of cracking bones echoed in the still air. Looking down, he saw the steps beneath them shift, merging into a single flat slab of stone. Realization struck him, and he turned sharply.

The others followed his gaze—only to find the main hall behind them gone.

The space had transformed into a vast, featureless expanse of snow enclosed within the translucent arc of the barrier. From every direction, more skeletons emerged, their dark bones scraping against the ice.

Gu Shenshu remained composed. He pointed toward the peak above them. “Rong Wuduan left us no path of retreat. We must keep moving. I can’t see clearly, but there’s a white tower ahead.”

Far away, the outline of a three-story tower rose from the storm, its roof buried under snow. Behind it loomed the faint silhouettes of palace ruins, half-swallowed by mist. The tower stood alone, the only clear path forward.

“Could it be a trap?” Penglai Immortal asked, voice trembling. Watching Yun Peiran’s puppet fall in the hall had shattered what little hope he’d held. Though he knew that body hadn’t been real, he could no longer bring himself to believe Yun Peiran still lived. Fear crept into his voice. “If we go forward, we might only find his soul destroyed.”

“Yes,” Yun Zhuoran replied quietly. “But we can’t stay here.”

By now, most of the skeletons had fully emerged. Though their spiritual presence was faint, each still wielded fragments of their former magic tools. Awkward at first, they grew more coordinated as they advanced. Red light burned faintly within their ribcages, casting eerie reflections across the snow.

“Be careful,” Yun Zhuoran warned.

The five formed a defensive circle, backs against each other. The skeletal horde advanced from every side. Yun Zhuoran and the Heart Demon took the lead, their spiritual energy surging outward in arcs of pale gold and red, repelling the first wave.

The skeletons were not individually strong—some only at Golden Core Stage—but there were thousands, and their regeneration was unnatural.

Yun Zhuoran soon noticed their weakness: striking the red glow within their ribs slowed them, making them easier to destroy. But the light never truly went out—it scattered like fireflies, then returned to reassemble the broken bones.

Lu Yu cursed under his breath. “A resurrection array!”

Gu Shenshu frowned. “There’s a formation beneath the snow, restoring them constantly. But there’s no time to locate its core.”

Before anyone could respond, a coordinated formation of sword-wielding skeletons trapped Lu Yu. He broke free with difficulty, panting. 

Gu Shenshu hovered above them, eyes narrowing. “They’re herding us toward the White Tower.”

Realization struck. The Heart Demon hissed, “So we don’t have a choice.”

“Then we fight our way through!” Lu Yu roared, summoning a blazing shield of demon light. 

He charged ahead toward the White Tower, Penglai Immortal close behind. Gu Shenshu followed, his golden aura slicing through the undead ranks. Yun Zhuoran and the Heart Demon brought up the rear, cutting a path through the encroaching tide.

The climb was brutal. The snow churned with restless corpses, skeletal limbs reaching even from the air. 

Finally, they reached the base of the White Tower. Its gates gaped open, darkness swallowing the interior. Around them, more skeletons poured forth from snow and sky alike.

Then—a flame ignited.

A white-robed figure appeared amid the storm, Taiyin True Fire flickering at his fingertips. The golden-white blaze cast his features in divine light. He raised his hand, and the fire spread like molten sunlight, raining over the horde.

The skeletons hissed and cracked as the sacred flame devoured them. The red lights in their chests flickered and died, leaving only scattered ash and bone.

For the first time since entering Tianyan Palace, the air grew still.

The Heart Demon wiped the sweat from Yun Zhuoran’s brow, steadying him. The Taiyin True Fire lingered, forming a protective barrier that repelled any surviving remnants. With the threat gone, the group finally exhaled.

Only the White Tower stood ahead.

Yun Zhuoran squeezed Weiran’s hand lightly, signaling that he was fine. Gu Shenshu and Lu Yu nodded. 

Without a word, they advanced.

Inside, the tower was far larger than it appeared. Relief carvings covered all eight walls. A shaft of light from the ceiling illuminated a frozen pool at the center, within which coiled a massive black stone serpent. Its crimson gem eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light, sending a chill down Yun Zhuoran’s spine.

Lu Yu summoned spiritual light—but found it unnecessary. The illumination from above revealed everything.

As they examined the surroundings, the door slammed shut behind them.

Lu Yu sighed. “Again.”

Yun Zhuoran’s tone was quiet. “Stay alert.”

They moved toward the ice pool at the center. The Heart Demon’s expression tightened; danger lingered thickly in the air.

Each relief on the wall depicted humans or beasts frozen in expressions of terror, carved so vividly that they seemed almost alive. The entire tower—its carvings, the black serpent sculpture, the very air—radiated an oppressive weight.

After searching the chamber, Lu Yu found another door opposite the entrance, but it was sealed shut. He pressed his hands against it, channeling full strength. The door did not move.

Panting, he shook his head. “No good.”

Gu Shenshu said calmly, “The key to leaving must be here, within the tower itself.”

Yun Zhuoran’s eyes drifted to the coiled black serpent. “Then it must be that.”

They returned to the ice pool. The serpent’s scales were carved with unnerving precision, each gleaming faintly as though alive.

Penglai Immortal shuddered. His anxiety had grown since entering. “What if Rong Wuduan sealed us in—to die here, unable to stop him?”

“Maybe,” Yun Zhuoran admitted quietly.

Penglai Immortal’s voice wavered. “Then… how do we get out?”

Seeing his unease, Yun Zhuoran placed a hand on his shoulder. “If we could enter, there’s a way out. Xian’er, trust me.”

Penglai Immortal lowered his gaze, ashamed of his fear. “I… I do. I’m just tired.”

The Heart Demon reached over, resting a hand on his other shoulder, his tone patient. “It’s normal to be afraid. No one’s faced an enemy like Rong Wuduan. As Elder Luoyue said, fighting him is like fighting the heavens themselves.”

Rong Wuduan had always exploited the weaknesses of others. Every trial here was tailored for them. He was a master of law itself—Tianyan Palace was his creation, its danger inevitable.

Lu Yu, sensing the heaviness in the room, tried to lighten it. “If I die here, all my treasures in Shanhai City will be gone. That’s scarier than Rong Wuduan. So let’s survive first.”

Gu Shenshu smiled faintly. “Don’t forget—Yun Peiran is still waiting for us.”

Warmth returned to Penglai Immortal’s chest. “Right. We can’t stop now.”

They turned back to search again. But as Penglai Immortal bent toward the frozen pool, something red caught his eye—thin veins of blood spreading beneath the ice.

“Be careful!” he shouted, instinctively pulling the nearest two companions back.

The blood spread rapidly, staining the pool crimson. 

The ruby eyes of the black serpent sculpture flared, glowing with terrible light.

“What is this?” Lu Yu demanded, his voice tight.

No one answered.

Crystalline spikes shot upward from the pool, knitting into the shape of a massive ice serpent. Its tail, tinged with blood, pulsed as scarlet liquid flowed beneath its translucent scales toward its head. The gems in its eyes blazed red—the serpent had awakened.

At the same moment, the black stone serpent encircling the pool shuddered, fragments of stone falling away as it came to life. Its twin eyes, glowing crimson, locked onto the intruders with killing intent.

A cold, fetid wind spread through the tower.

Rong Wuduan had once kept two spirit beasts by his side: a black snake and a white one. When he perished, their spirits were bound to his palace. These two creatures—one of stone, one of ice—were those very pets, enslaved even in death to guard his legacy.

The group instinctively stepped back. 

The black serpent reared its head, hissing, its voice echoing through the chamber.

They exchanged a glance—and struck.

Yun Zhuoran unleashed spiritual light, but the serpent twisted fluidly, striking back with thunderous speed. The floor quaked as its tail smashed into stone.

“Move!” the Heart Demon shouted, dragging Yun Zhuoran aside.

The black serpent lunged again. 

The Heart Demon retaliated with black mist, forming barriers to block the blow. The others spread out, attacking from different angles.

“Find the door’s mechanism first!” Yun Zhuoran called.

Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu raced toward the sealed door, searching desperately for a trigger. Gu Shenshu joined them—but the blood-soaked ice serpent hissed and surged upward, blocking their path.

Gu Shenshu lifted his hand, golden light gathering at his fingertips, forming a brilliant sword. He struck the serpent’s seven-inch point. The impact shattered the floor, but the serpent remained unharmed.

Yun Zhuoran and the Heart Demon tried the same—but neither snake faltered.

“These aren’t living creatures,” Gu Shenshu said grimly. “They’re constructs bound by law. Their weak point doesn’t exist.”

The Heart Demon grit his teeth, defending Yun Zhuoran as the black serpent’s massive body coiled, pressing them against the wall.

Then—something cold seized his ankle.

He glanced down. One of the human faces carved into the wall relief stared back in silent terror. A stone hand reached out—and clamped around his leg.

Startled, the Heart Demon conjured a blade from black mist and slashed downward, severing it cleanly. The severed hand fell, and the wall sealed itself again, blood vanishing into the stone as if it had never existed.

“Something’s wrong with these walls!” the Heart Demon warned sharply. “Stay away from them!”

Yun Zhuoran immediately moved to his side, eyes fixed on the severed hand lying on the floor.

“Are you hurt?”

The Heart Demon shook his head.

Before either could say more, the black serpent lunged again. 

Yun Zhuoran grabbed Weiran’s hand and pulled him toward the hall’s center, evading the strike. Overhead, Gu Shenshu avoided the walls, his spirit form flickering with golden light as he intercepted the ice serpent closing in from the other side.

Yun Zhuoran led the black serpent in wide circles across the chamber, keeping its attention away from the others. The serpent’s massive coils slammed repeatedly into the walls, shaking the entire tower, but it could not touch him. 

Exchanging a look with Weiran, Yun Zhuoran shifted course toward Gu Shenshu, who was dueling the ice serpent midair.

“Gu Shenshu!” Yun Zhuoran shouted.

Gu Shenshu turned at once, his faint smile a sign of understanding. 

When they regrouped, the three coordinated in silent rhythm—Taiyin True Fire, demonic mist, and golden swordlight converging at once. 

The twin serpents crashed into each other with a thunderous impact, shattering ice and stone alike before collapsing to the floor in a tangle of coils.

They withdrew several steps, breathing hard. Gu Shenshu glanced at the surrounding reliefs, remembering Weiran’s earlier warning. “Those walls…”

Yun Zhuoran frowned, following his gaze.

“The figures inside are alive,” Weiran said grimly. “When I got too close, they reached out. Tried to drag me in.” He gestured toward the severed hand on the floor.

Gu Shenshu’s sharp eyes caught the faint trace of blood glistening on the distant stone. His expression darkened. “This White Tower is more than a trap. It’s feeding on life.”

Yun Zhuoran’s face hardened. He had sensed danger, but not that Weiran had nearly been pulled into the wall. “We need to leave—now.”

Perhaps fortune had not abandoned them completely. Just as Yun Zhuoran finished speaking, Penglai Immortal, struggling by the sealed back door, suddenly cried out in relief. “It’s open! The door’s moving! Hurry!”

Yun Zhuoran did not relax. “There’s something wrong with this place. Stay alert!”

Penglai Immortal nodded grimly and, with Lu Yu, pushed against the heavy stone doors. 

Gravel crunched beneath their boots as Yun Zhuoran and the others turned back toward the serpents—just in time to see the creatures stir again.

But instead of attacking, the black and ice serpents coiled tightly together, their bodies merging in a blinding flash of red light. Scales cracked, stone split, and where two monsters had stood, a single two-headed dragon rose—vast and ancient, its fused body forged of rough, dark rock.

Yun Zhuoran’s eyes flicked instinctively to the surrounding reliefs—each one showing frozen human faces.

Before he could speak, the dragon’s twin heads snapped toward them, eyes blazing blood-red. It struck with terrifying speed.

“Scatter!”

Gu Shenshu darted aside instantly. Yun Zhuoran and Weiran moved just as fast, barely avoiding the impact. 

The dragon crashed down, shaking the entire White Tower. Its tail lashed violently, carving deep fissures in the floor. 

Yun Zhuoran shoved Weiran clear just in time; the massive tail struck the crater where they had stood moments before. 

Weiran caught him midair and pulled him to safety.

The dragon possessed both serpents’ powers—its might was overwhelming. 

Yun Zhuoran, Gu Shenshu, and Weiran fought to restrain it, shielding Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu as they struggled to force the door open. 

The dragon’s dual heads turned toward Gu Shenshu, striking with ferocious precision. Even as a spirit, he was not immune—its blows carried spiritual force capable of devouring him whole.

Yun Zhuoran and Weiran moved in sync, intercepting its attacks. Yun Zhuoran summoned the Taiyin True Fire, golden flames surging from his fingertips and searing across one head. The dragon roared, spewing a torrent of icy gray vapor.

The vapor struck Yun Zhuoran’s hand before he could dodge. His right palm stiffened instantly, the skin paling to stone.

“Brother!” Weiran caught his wrist in alarm.

Gu Shenshu’s expression sharpened. “Don’t touch it!”

Yun Zhuoran withdrew quickly, breathing through the pain. Only his palm was petrified—the quick retreat had spared the rest. “I understand now,” he said quietly. “The reliefs. Those people weren’t carved—they were petrified.”

The Heart Demon’s face darkened.

Still, the Taiyin True Fire had wounded the creature—one of its heads slumped, charred black. The other, in agony, thrashed wildly, smashing into the surrounding walls. Stone reliefs shattered under its rage.

Behind them, Penglai Immortal shouted, “The door’s open! Hurry!”

A narrow gap split the stone.

“Go first!” Penglai Immortal braced his back against the door, sweat pouring down his temples.

But Yun Zhuoran hesitated. The two-headed dragon had begun to rise again, the ground trembling under its weight. He raised his hand, igniting another wave of True Fire. “I’ll hold it off! Gu Shenshu, get out first! Weiran—behind me! Penglai Immortal, Lu Yu—hold the door!”

Gu Shenshu slipped through the gap, his spiritual form vanishing beyond it. Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu dug in, pushing with all their strength. The stone door groaned, inching wider until the others could follow.

Just as they broke through and tumbled into the snow beyond, a sudden hiss split the air.

A clear, glasslike fluid—transparent yet glimmering faintly—shot from the doorway like a whip.

Penglai Immortal saw it first. He shoved Yun Zhuoran, Weiran, and Lu Yu aside, shielding them with his body.

The strange liquid wrapped around him like a living serpent. At once, his flesh began to crystallize into gray-white stone. 

The moment his grip on the door loosened, the massive slab slammed shut, shaking the mountain to its core.

“Xian’er! Lu Yu!” Yun Zhuoran shouted, his voice breaking.

No sound answered. The White Tower was sealed.

Weiran and Gu Shenshu exchanged grim looks. The silence was absolute.

Then, a faint golden light rippled across the snow. From its glow, a chain bridge materialized over a vast chasm, leading upward to a long stone staircase vanishing into the storm.

The sky above had turned blood-red. The barrier encasing Tianyan Palace shimmered ominously, and from the palace roof, a golden-red pillar of light pierced the heavens.

Gu Shenshu’s gaze sharpened. “That’s it—Rong Wuduan’s formation.”

Yun Zhuoran looked toward the light, then back at the sealed doors. 

Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu were gone. His heart clenched.

Weiran opened his mouth to speak, but Gu Shenshu’s voice, cold and steady, cut through the storm. “There’s no time, Little Zhuoran. They’re sealed inside, but if Rong Wuduan succeeds, none of us will survive. We must go now.”

Yun Zhuoran stood still, eyes unfocused, his voice hoarse. “Can I really do this? We walked out while they were dragged back. I can’t even save them. How can I… stop him?”

Gu Shenshu’s tone softened. “Besides you, who else can?”

Yun Zhuoran shook his head, lost. “I can’t.”

The Heart Demon had never seen him so hollow. Pulling him close, he whispered, “Brother…”

Gu Shenshu turned away, his expression unreadable. Floating toward the bridge, he said only, “We knew the risk before coming here. No one will blame you. Remember—Penglai Immortal believed in you.”

As he left, the Heart Demon held Yun Zhuoran tightly, murmuring, “Master is right. Everyone trusts you. You saw the people in those walls—they’re still alive. Maybe Xian’er and Lu Yu are too. But if we stay, we lose any chance at all.”

Yun Zhuoran said nothing. His gaze remained fixed on the closed doors.

Then, softly, he whispered, “Wait for me.”

Weiran froze, startled. Yun Zhuoran turned, stepping toward the bridge. 

A faint, resigned smile touched Weiran’s lips as he followed.

Behind them, the three-tiered White Tower faded into the storm, dissolving into the snow.

The chain bridge was narrow, suspended over an abyss. Gu Shenshu waited at the far end, no longer stern, his expression calm and gentle.

“Why aren’t you going ahead?” Yun Zhuoran asked quietly.

“There’s a restriction,” Gu Shenshu replied. “Only one person may cross at a time. No one except Rong Wuduan can bypass it.”

Yun Zhuoran’s eyes flickered with realization. “You’re letting me go?”

Gu Shenshu nodded. “It must be you.” Seeing Yun Zhuoran hesitate, he smiled faintly. “Don’t forget—you and Weiran are one.”

The Heart Demon blinked. “Then… am I coming too?”

Gu Shenshu’s smile deepened. “In my condition, I can’t fight Rong Wuduan. But you two together can. That’s all the strength we need.” He looked at Yun Zhuoran with quiet pride. “Are you confident?”

Yun Zhuoran did not answer, only met his eyes.

Gu Shenshu’s voice softened. “Don’t doubt yourself. But I’ll still come with you—in another way.” He extended a translucent hand. “Come closer.”

Yun Zhuoran obeyed.

Gu Shenshu’s gentle smile wavered with fatigue. “This was meant for later,” he said quietly. Placing both hands against his lower abdomen, he pressed inward—and a sword of radiant golden light slowly emerged from his soul.

Yun Zhuoran and Weiran froze. 

The sword glowed with sacred brilliance, its aura piercing the storm. Gu Shenshu’s spiritual form dimmed, yet he looked utterly at peace.

“This sword was forged from my immortal bones—the culmination of my life’s cultivation. I wanted to give it to you after everything was over, but it needs Rong Wuduan’s blood to awaken. Didn’t he dream of becoming a god?” He smiled faintly. “Then let’s call it the Demon-Slaying Sword.”

The name carried quiet defiance.

Yun Zhuoran looked at him, not the blade. The aura it emitted rivaled a divine artifact.

Gu Shenshu’s outline flickered, fading, but his eyes were kind. “Don’t doubt yourself. Your master believes in you. Take care of each other.”

His final words drifted away with the wind. The last fragments of his soul broke apart into golden dust, scattering into the abyss.

Yun Zhuoran reached out instinctively—but the light slipped through his fingers.

The Heart Demon exhaled softly, his expression pained at the redness in Yun Zhuoran’s eyes. Gu Shenshu had always been a good master; Yun Zhuoran had always known it.

“Weiran…” Yun Zhuoran’s voice was rough. “From seven to nine, he looked after me. He said I wasn’t alone. That if anyone bullied me, all I had to do was call him ‘Master’…”

Weiran nodded gently. “He must have been happy you finally did.”

“Yes,” Yun Zhuoran whispered. His lips curved in a faint, bittersweet smile—the only joy left to him.

Before them, the Demon-Slaying Sword floated in midair, its golden light steady and cold. 

Above, a pillar of golden-red radiance still burned from Tianyan Palace, piercing the blood-red sky.

Yun Zhuoran’s gaze hardened. He took the sword and turned toward the summit.

The White Tower was gone. Penglai Immortal and Lu Yu were gone. Gu Shenshu was gone.

Only he and Weiran remained.

Hand in hand, they crossed the final stretch of the chain bridge.

“Let’s go,” Yun Zhuoran said.

The Heart Demon squeezed his hand tightly. “Don’t be afraid, brother. I’m here.”