"You dare, you brat!" Old Ancestor Zhao was both shocked and enraged.
The wind and snow formed a prison-like cage. His unique Evasion Arts had been broken by the power of the formation talismans, forcing him to turn around and deploy the Milky Way Veil to directly confront the Spring and Autumn Sword.
Flakes of thin snow landed on the Spring and Autumn Sword, coating the blade with a brilliant silver glow.
The sword energy materialized into a massive sword phantom that rose before Song Qianji, as if ready to sweep across all directions and shatter the Milky Way with a single strike.
Xian Jianchen laughed heartily: "Well done, my disciple! You already possess the aura of a king—the Spring and Autumn Sword has acknowledged you!"
His laughter was bold and unrestrained, yet carried a tone of sorrow and the weight of time amidst the wind and snow.
The massive sword phantom pressed down like a towering mountain. Fragments of falling stars continuously dropped from the sky, and the Milky Way Veil gradually dimmed.
Old Ancestor Zhao’s face turned deathly pale. He suddenly realized his mistake.
He had thought his opponent in this battle was Xian Jianchen. He had made all sorts of calculations and laid numerous plans specifically targeting Xian Jianchen.
As for Song Qianji, no matter how formidable he might be, he was still just a junior.
Who could have known that with the Spring and Autumn Sword in hand, Song Qianji would become even more terrifying than Xian Jianchen!
What defines a king?
It is not profound cultivation, nor a long lifespan. A king is one for whom millions willingly sacrifice themselves.
Xian Jianchen’s sword had grown old, and his kingly aura had weakened with the passage of time, like the sun setting in the west.
But Song Qianji was a rising new king, his momentum at its peak, bolstered by the profound luck of Thousand Canals. He was now the most suitable wielder of the Spring and Autumn Sword in the entire Cultivation World!
Thousand Canals, yet again Thousand Canals.
Old Ancestor Zhao leaped downward, plunging into the Quicksand River to evade the sharp edge of the Spring and Autumn Sword: "What good does it do you to show off here! Once dawn breaks, the righteous immortal alliance will mobilize to besiege Thousand-Ditch Prefecture. Your stronghold will be overrun!"
Song Qianji followed closely behind, his expression as calm as still water, as if he hadn’t heard a word.
Old Ancestor Zhao shouted and cursed, vividly describing the impending carnage—rivers of blood and mountains of corpses in Thousand Canals.
"Do you think such words can shake my disciple, whose heart is as firm as a rock and unmovable as a mountain?" Xian Jianchen’s indifferent voice echoed from the sky. "Zhao Wu, you will not escape this snowfall. Even if you could, I am still here. I still have seven swords left—do you think I would let you go? You, a millennium-old turtle hiding in its shell, know nothing of true battle."
"Ah!" A shrill, furious roar erupted, filled with despair and unwillingness.
The falling stars were shattered by the Spring and Autumn Sword, while yellow sand and thin snow flew together across the sky.
A cornered enemy is the most fearsome.
Driven to madness by despair and stripped of reason by rage, they will play every card and use every hidden move.
Especially an ancestor like him, supported by his clan and deeply rooted in power.
Song Qianji immediately felt the pressure, but fortunately, the power of the formation talismans within the wind and snow specifically countered his opponent.
Old Ancestor Zhao’s eyes turned blood-red as he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood: "Even if I must die, you and your master will remain here! Once the gates of Thousand Canals are breached tomorrow, I will trade these old bones of mine for a thousand years of prosperity for my clan!"
He opened his mouth, and a crimson orb spat forth from within.
Though only the size of a fist, the orb was wreathed in golden-red flames. The desert temperature soared abruptly, and the yellow sand grew scorching under the fiery light.
The dense snowflakes surrounding Old Ancestor Zhao rapidly melted, as if an impenetrable prison had been torn open by a corner of blazing light.
"That’s a core fragment of his Milky Way Banner—be careful!" Xian Jianchen shouted.
Without needing the warning, Song Qianji acted decisively, hurling the Spring and Autumn Sword forward!
"Boom!" The Spring and Autumn Sword, like a heavy shield, collided with the fiery red orb, causing the latter to explode mid-air.
The fierce wind whipped the Quicksand River into a swirling tornado, sending a sandstorm soaring into the sky."Go!" Old Ancestor Zhao roared.
Fragments of falling stars swept across like a torrential storm, assaulting Song Qianji's face.
At this moment, the Spring and Autumn Sword had not yet returned, leaving Song Qianji empty-handed.
Xian Jianchen shouted, "Catch another sword!"
"Snap!" Song Qianji reached out and grasped, seizing the long sword flying through the air, ready to counterattack.
Unexpectedly, this sword had no blade—its tip was smooth and rounded. Holding it, Song Qianji felt as if he were wielding an iron rod or a large club, extremely awkward to handle.
He heard Xian Jianchen say, "This sword is named 'Halt.' It excels not in killing, not in attacking, not in defending, not in guarding..."
The falling star fragments exploded one after another, the enemy's onslaught growing increasingly frenzied, with clear intent to perish together.
Song Qianji could only defend with the edgeless rod, momentarily falling into a disadvantage. Amid the chaos, he angrily shouted:
"If it's no good for attack or defense, why bring it out now?!"
"It excels in 'halting,'" Xian Jianchen added.
Halting?
To curb a raging river or extinguish exploding gunpowder, one cannot confront them with opposing elements like water and fire—one must "halt" them.
A thought flashed through Song Qianji's mind: "Thanks!"
Xian Jianchen continued, "Only a wielder with extreme calm can master this sword. I shall now impart to you a mantra to help pacify your mind and clear your thoughts! Remember this: the benevolent are invincible."
Following Xian Jianchen's words, Song Qianji recited aloud, etching the mantra word by word into his memory.
In the boundless darkness, amid the cold wind and snow, the blazing flames, and the vast yellow sands, he had fought his powerful foe to the point of bloodlust. Yet the "Halt Sword" flowed into his heart like a gentle, clear stream.
Old Ancestor Zhao, trapped in desperation once more, laughed maniacally: "Xian Jianchen, you think to use me as a whetstone for your disciple? Dream on! Song Qianji, perish with me today, and tomorrow Thousand Canals' walls will surely fall!"
Though wounded, his energy surged rapidly, reaching its peak with unstoppable force!
At that very moment, Song Qianji swung the sword and shouted, "Halt!"
A single roar struck like a blow to the head.
"Boom!"
The mad laughter ceased abruptly. The self-destruction was halted by the Halt Sword, as if a giant hand had snuffed out a bomb's fuse.
"H-how...?"
In Old Ancestor Zhao's disbelieving eyes, the Spring and Autumn Sword rapidly enlarged.
A single thrust pierced his heart.
Old Ancestor Zhao's body cracked like a clay doll, collapsing with a thunderous roar, his ashes mingling with the yellow sand.
The Spring and Autumn Sword flew back, hovering before Song Qianji.
Only then did Xian Jianchen descend from mid-air on his Shadowless Sword, remarking leisurely, "You've subdued the 'Halt Sword.' From now on, you need not fear any cultivator's self-destruction."
Song Qianji steadied his breathing and sighed, "What a sword!"
If the "Spring and Autumn Sword" was a sovereign ruler maneuvering with authority, the "Halt Sword" was a compassionate monk urging one to turn back.
Stroking the smooth blade, Song Qianji couldn't help but think, "Such a sword exists in this world. Had I obtained it in my previous life, I would have avoided many injuries."
Half of the enemies he had encountered in his past life were powerful and ruthless. Driven to despair, they would rather perish together, destroying both body and soul without chance of reincarnation, than let him live.
"But no," Song Qianji reflected, "the Halt Sword's aura is peaceful and upright. If one's killing intent is too strong or sword path too ruthless, even possessing this sword would be useless. I couldn't have wielded it back then." Understanding this, he concluded, "The right sword at the right time is the best sword."
Thus, of the Sword God's Nine Swords, he had obtained three.Xian Jianchen nudged the sand pile with his foot and suddenly sighed, "You shouldn't have killed him."
"Why?" Song Qianji wiped his sword clean.
"Letting him escape gravely wounded could shake their alliance's morale and throw them into chaos. With both sides in the shadows, their disarray would greatly improve our chances of survival on the road."
Song Qianji shook his head: "He drained Thousand Canals of its Spirit Qi to break through his cultivation, turning it into a barren wasteland—that's old grievances. Tonight, he used the Milky Way Veil to kill me—that's fresh enmity. With both old and new scores to settle, I had to kill him. Besides, we're not fleeing for our lives."
Xian Jianchen pulled him onto the Shadowless Sword, continuing westward: "Then what is it?"
"A breakthrough."
As the wind and snow weakened, the flakes turning nearly transparent, Song Qianji looked back.
The night breeze brushed through his tattered robes, and he saw the wispy purple smoke rising from Purple Cloud Temple.
"I've changed my mind," he said.
Xian Jianchen, lazily seated at the rear of the sword while tasking his junior with controlling the Shadowless, asked, "Oh? Changing our route?"
Song Qianji shook his head: "I want the whole world to know exactly which path we'll take to the continent's end."
Xian Jianchen leaped up: "Have you gone mad? Do you know how many will come to kill us? Even if you're trying to draw fire away from Thousand Canals, you can't push me toward certain death."
"Why must it be certain death? Perhaps we'll reach the continent's end faster and more smoothly. Care to gamble?"
"You can't even play dice, and now you've caught a gambling fever?" Xian Jianchen found it absurd. "You want me to risk my life?"
"Isn't this king also risking his life?!"
Though Song Qianji was often called the King of Thousand Canals or King Song, Xian Jianchen had observed that he wasn't particularly fond of either title, even finding them somewhat awkward.
Hearing Song Qianji refer to himself as "this king" for the first time, Xian Jianchen was momentarily stunned: "Well now, your wings have hardened. I never should have given you the Spring and Autumn Sword."
"Are you afraid?" Song Qianji said calmly. Though his tone held no mockery, his gaze carried disdain.
"Ridiculous! Why would I be afraid? What are you betting on?"
"Human nature," Song Qianji said.
At the edge of the night, dawn began to break.
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