Song Qianji looked up at the dark shadow covering the moon, which rapidly expanded like a meteor hurtling toward the snowfield, carrying wind, fire, thunder, and lightning.
He grabbed Xian Jianchen and swiftly retreated, summoning the Spring and Autumn Sword to block in front of them.
"Boom!"
The snowfield seemed to have been struck by a massive fireball, and the temperature abruptly soared.
Within a radius of ten li, the accumulated snow instantly melted, turning into white mist before it could form flowing water, revealing the brown permafrost beneath millennia of ice and snow.
The cold wind whistled, and the snowy mist curled. Extremely cold and scorching air currents clashed alternately.
Song Qianji landed gracefully, squinting his eyes to see a heavy sword embedded three inches into the ground, its blade flickering with purple flames, its hilt pointing obliquely at the night sky.
The Mount Guarding Sword of Huawel!
The earth cracked, with the sword as the center, spiderweb-like fissures spreading in all directions, extending all the way to Song Qianji's feet and barely stopping before the Spring and Autumn Sword.
A familiar figure emerged slowly from the hazy snowy mist, his right palm outstretched as the Mount Guarding Sword returned to his grasp: "Xian Jianchen, you’ve been too afraid to draw your sword all this way, hiding behind your disciple. Have you had enough?"
Compared to their last meeting, Xu Yun seemed twenty years younger. His aged face had regained its luster, his cheeks were full, and his eyes shone brightly.
He exuded the formidable pressure of the Transformation Realm, moving like a mountain rising from the earth. Any cultivator who saw him would feel fear and prostrate themselves at his feet.
Unfortunately, no one bowed to him tonight.
Song Qianji and Xian Jianchen, though travel-worn from days of hurried travel, acted as if they hadn’t seen him.
"Did you hear that?" Song Qianji retracted the Spring and Autumn Sword and nudged Xian Jianchen’s arm. "Have you ever reflected on why you’re so hated?"
Xian Jianchen lightly stroked his temples, putting on an exaggerated act: "Those who aren’t envied are mediocre. Besides, your master is this handsome."
Song Qianji immediately bent over, feigning vomiting: "Whose shameless face is this, tossed on the ground?"
He wasn’t originally one to indulge in sharp retorts, nor was he skilled in arguments.
But Xian Jianchen was notoriously glib and talkative, and Song Qianji needed to conserve his Spirit Qi for battles and breakthroughs, so he could only retaliate with words.
The two of them bickered incessantly along the way, never allowing a moment of peace.
Xu Yun’s face had turned ashen.
Tonight, with his divine technique perfected, he descended from the heavens, eager to see the tension and fear of his opponents facing a formidable enemy.
But Xian Jianchen was still Xian Jianchen, and Song Qianji was still Song Qianji.
Xian Jianchen even said to him, "Since I have a disciple, why not make use of him? If I’d known teaching a disciple was this easy and came with so many benefits, I should’ve taken one two hundred years ago! You don’t understand this—seems your disciple isn’t up to the task."
Song Qianji couldn’t bear to listen any longer and whispered, "Have you never been beaten up before?"
The Mount Guarding Sword of Huawel trembled, as if sensing its wielder’s rage, and let out a long hum.
Xu Yun sneered, "Two hundred years ago was when you slaughtered your way through the Cosmos Palace."
Xian Jianchen recalled, "Back then, you were just a low-ranking Golden Core elder with no real power. If not for me, would you have ever become sect leader?"
"True, I should thank you," Xu Yun actually agreed.
But his eyes were already bloodshot. The Mount Guarding Sword radiated blazing flames, scorching the millennia-old permafrost.
In that nightmare two centuries ago, Xian Jianchen went on a killing spree, leaving the upper echelons of the Huawel Sect decimated.
Then he casually pointed at someone, tossed them a jar of wine, and said, "From now on, you’ll be the sect leader."
With Xian Jianchen’s word, no one dared oppose. The one chosen was Xu Yun.Without Xian Jianchen, there would be no Sect Leader Xu Yun, nor the sword hanging in the Cosmos Palace.
His power, status, and glory all stemmed from this man, yet two centuries of humiliation and fear were also bestowed upon him by this very person.
To slay Xian Jianchen was to slay his inner demons.
"No need for excessive gratitude—a few kowtows will suffice," Xian Jianchen unexpectedly laughed in response.
Xu Yun's oppressive aura instantly turned violent, crashing down like a collapsing mountain.
Song Qianji raised a sword energy barrier with his Spring and Autumn Sword to block it, fine beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead. "Could you say any less?"
Before his words faded, the Mountain Guardian Sword pierced through the wind!
The vast wilderness offered no shelter or cover. With no other choice, Song Qianji raised his sword to meet the attack.
The Spring and Autumn Sword was a blade of kings, while the Mountain Guardian Sword was a sword to protect the sect—both divine weapons blessed with soaring luck and majestic heavenly might. This boundless land was perfectly suited for unleashing domineering, wide-ranging supernatural powers.
The two swords clashed, their gleaming blades flickering unpredictably like a white and a black raging dragon soaring through heaven and earth, roaring and battling fiercely.
Moonlight was shredded by the sword energy, and sword shadows enveloped a ten-mile radius. Song Qianji's face grew increasingly pale. Beyond the gap in their cultivation realms, his opponent's Spirit Qi was abnormally dense, as if inexhaustible.
"Aren't you going to help this time?" he shouted at Xian Jianchen.
A short sword suddenly flew over.
Xian Jianchen's voice followed: "This is the sword I used two hundred years ago when I stirred up trouble at the Huawel Sect—it's called 'Evil Slayer.' This blade repels all evil and specializes in vanquishing the world's wicked and unorthodox ways. Since all grievances began with it, let it bring them to an end."
"So short?" Song Qianji switched swords, momentarily speechless.
The Mountain Guardian Sword was a blade to protect the sect, Xu Yun practiced orthodox Huawel Swordplay, and this was no Demon Cave by the Western Sea—what use did he have for this "Evil Slayer"?
The Mountain Guardian Sword measured four feet six inches, raging like fire. The Evil Slayer only had a formidable name; it was less than two feet long, its aura as clear and pure as a spring.
For a time, the "black dragon" roamed and roared dominantly, while the "white dragon's" momentum greatly diminished.
Xu Yun sneered triumphantly: "Song Qianji, do you truly know this man? Do you understand his past? He is cruel and merciless, stopping at nothing. Once he retrieves his Lifebound Sword, you will be of no use to him. Why would he keep you? If he truly needed a disciple, why has he wandered alone for centuries?!"
If Xu Yun could only kill one other person in this world besides Xian Jianchen, he would undoubtedly choose Song Qianji.
The rise of Thousand Canals accompanied the decline of the Huawel Sect. Without Song Qianji, his only daughter would not have defied her father and sect, stubbornly embarking on a misguided path.
Eliminating Song Qianji was eliminating future troubles.
Xian Jianchen seemed not to hear these provocative words, still reciting the Evil Slayer Sword's heart sutra.
The sword energy of the Mountain Guardian Sword filled heaven and earth, and Song Qianji could not block it all for him. Xian Jianchen sat cross-legged on the ground, allowing his robes to be torn by the sword energy, revealing streaks of blood.
"Wielding the Evil Slayer Sword requires a clear heart and firm belief that evil cannot triumph over righteousness. All evil arises from the mind—first sever the thousands of desires in your own heart, then slay demons and vanquish evil!" Xian Jianchen suddenly clapped and laughed. "I almost forgot—you’re not one for grand ambitions, content to guard your small plot of land. Where would you find a thousand greedy desires?"
"A single acre already holds countless wonders—why bother ascending to the heavens?" Song Qianji laughed.
The Evil Slayer Sword in his hand grew increasingly agile, like a murmuring stream, seeping into every crevice.Waves of pure energy cleansed the heavens and earth, scattering the thick clouds to reveal the moon's glow once more. The frenzied Mountain-Suppressing Sword was actually being restrained.
Xu Yun cried out in shock and fury, "How can this be?!"
Xian Jianchen sighed, "You've cultivated a shortcut through wicked methods. The path to the Great Dao is forever closed to you now." His smile faded, his tone carrying genuine regret.
Xu Yun's eyes flickered with uncertainty. "Spouting nonsense even with death upon you!"
Xian Jianchen replied, "If not for your corruption, how could the Evil Slayer Sword restrain you so completely?"
"Open!" Xu Yun shouted.
Space trembled as a Domain unfolded. A genuine mountain came crashing down toward Xian Jianchen and Song Qianji!
Song Qianji, having long been prepared, also shouted, "Open!"
Two spatial realms collided in a dazzling display of golden light. The majestic mountain was blocked by ocean-like waves of wheat, while the Mountain-Suppressing Sword itself was swallowed by endless wheat fields.
Seizing the opportunity, the Evil Slayer Sword multiplied—one becoming ten, its shadows striking simultaneously!
Just as Xu Yun tried to recall his sword, his body suddenly stiffened. He fell backward, collapsing to the ground.
Staring blankly at the bloody hole in his chest, he whispered with disbelief and bitter resentment, "Why?!"
He had clearly achieved divine mastery, his cultivation surpassing theirs.
The Evil Slayer Sword drifted leisurely back to Song Qianji's hand, radiating pure energy that washed over the ravaged battlefield.
Snow mist, dust, and dueling sword shadows instantly vanished. The night sky cleared, the bright moon shining once more.
Xian Jianchen stood up. "Had you come in person this time, you might have truly forced me to draw my sword. But you fear me. Even knowing I'm injured and without my Lifebound Sword, you still fear me. You only dared send an avatar—this battle was doomed from the start."
The Evil Slayer Sword circled Song Qianji, refusing to return to its sheath.
Song Qianji stroked it as if petting an eager puppy seeking praise. "Your avatar's death will wound your true self. You cannot win the war at Thousand Canals. Withdraw your forces."
"Do you think you've won?!" Xu Yun laughed bitterly from his pool of blood, slapping the ground with his final strength. "Song Qianji, you certainly chose a remarkable master. Those who wish him dead aren't limited to humans!"
Before his words faded, distant rumbling echoed like rolling thunder.
The sound grew closer until the very earth began to tremble.
It felt like an approaching tsunami, a gathering avalanche.
Half the Righteous Immortal Alliance was besieging Thousand Canals with no success. The other half had pursued Song Qianji, only to be exhausted by opposing forces.
What other cards did the enemy hold?
Song Qianji glanced skyward, his expression shifting. He summoned the Shadowless Sword. "Let's go!"
Through the swirling snow dust, dark silhouettes became clear. Countless demonic beasts roared across sky and land.
Three-headed birds blotted out moon and sky with giant wings. Iron-toothed tigers tore up the earth with sharp claws. Silver-scaled pythons carried red-haired tortoises, while golden rocs bore silver-armed apes. Wolves, tigers, leopards, snakes, insects, rats, and ants converged into a rolling tide of beasts, darkening the snow plains as they advanced.
These powerful demonic beasts, having hibernated in underground caves and hidden away, had all awakened simultaneously to join this Cultivation World war!
"I sent people to rouse them! I told them you're injured! That devouring your heart would heal the sword wounds you inflicted and grant them your power!" Xu Yun screamed at the Shadowless Sword fading into the sky.
Xian Jianchen looked back at the dark tide and laughed. "Hear that? Your master isn't the White Dragon Horse—he's Tang Sanzang!"
Song Qianji had no words. Was this really something to be proud of?Xu Yun shouted angrily: "Back in the day, you fought against heaven and earth—whether they were cultivators, demon beasts, or anything else, every living being in the world with a name had been challenged by you. Now the entire world wants you dead, and you still feel no regret?"
Xian Jianchen spread his arms wide, his sleeves fluttering as he laughed heartily: "What is there to regret? I was born at the right time, destined by fate!"
Upon hearing this, Xu Yun spat out a mouthful of blood. One of his incarnations lost all vitality, turning to ashes and scattering.
Song Qianji remembered—in his youth, Xian Jianchen wasn’t some elegant genius from an immortal sect or noble family. He was a relentless overachiever who single-handedly drove the entire Cultivation World into cutthroat competition.
The powerful figures of his era, regardless of their species, could only be described as unfortunate.
"You’re such a failure as a person!" Song Qianji cursed while maneuvering the Shadowless Sword to escape. "They’ve gone mad. Sooner or later, we’ll be caught."
At such high speeds, even the slightest fluctuation in Spirit Qi would cause the Flying Sword to slow down.
Yet Song Qianji had no choice but to fly across the vast snowfield toward the edge of the continent.
Even an elephant can be killed by enough ants, let alone this surging tide of beasts.
The open, unobstructed snowfield was the perfect stage for giant beasts to unleash their power.
"Give me another sword," Song Qianji demanded.
"Which one?" Xian Jianchen blinked.
Song Qianji: "You must have a sword specifically for slaying demons. Bring it out now!"
Earlier, Wuxiang had mentioned that besides his Lifebound Sword, Xian Jianchen possessed twelve swords. Three had been destroyed during his campaigns across the world, leaving nine remaining.
He used the Shadowless Sword for assassinations, the Spring and Autumn Sword for executing traitors, and the River-Crossing Sword over rivers—the choice of sword depended on the location and the target.
For non-human foes, he naturally had specialized methods to counter them.
Xian Jianchen shook his head: "When I was young, I believed that since they devoured humans, I had to slay them. But as I grew older, I gradually realized that even if they aren’t of our kind, there’s no need to exterminate them completely. It’s better to leave them a trace of vitality, so they dare not cause trouble. That’s why I destroyed those three swords capable of battling demon beasts."
Birds carried land beasts in pursuit of the Flying Sword. Foul winds swept toward them, and bestial roars reverberated, stirring the bloodlust within.
Song Qianji couldn’t help but utter a single word: "Damn!"
Xian Jianchen: "I no longer possess any swords that naturally counter ferocious beasts. Since any sword will do, just fight casually."
"Can I even fight?!" Song Qianji roared. "Fight until the year of the monkey and then ascend to the western heavens?"
Xian Jianchen frowned: "Then what do you suggest? Surely you don’t expect your master to go down and fight?"
Top-tier at drawing aggro, utterly useless in practice—Song Qianji seethed with resentment, cursing him ten thousand times in his heart.
Suddenly, he froze, then stretched out his right hand and raised a treasure box: "Come."
"Disciple, are you under too much pressure?" Xian Jianchen cautiously reminded him. "That box of yours is empty, you know."
"Stop sleeping. Time to eat." Song Qianji shouted at the sky, "Good, good—"
"He’s really lost it," Xian Jianchen murmured.
Deep within Blood River Valley, a radiant immortal mountain brimming with spring scenery began to tremble.
Answering the call of the treasure box, Painted Spring Mountain slowly rose.
Amid tumbling rocks, a long-haired, giant dog-like demon beast emerged.
Its body rapidly expanded, growing four wings on its back and six legs beneath its belly. Suddenly, it let out a roar toward the sky, beat its wings, and soared into the night clouds.
...
The snowfield had never been so "lively."As the moon set and the sun rose, a Shadowless Sword swept across the world, leading a tide of beasts.
Thousands of frenzied demon beasts chased desperately after the "Tang Monk's flesh," risking their lives in pursuit.
Compared to the mountain-like creatures, the two figures on the sword appeared incredibly small.
They had flown for too long, growing more exhausted with each passing moment.
"Good boy, good boy!" Song Qianji called out repeatedly.
Xian Jianchen suddenly remembered something: "Are you calling for that Chaos? That Chaos has already acknowledged a master—it won’t answer your summons or obey your commands. Besides, I sealed it once, and you suppressed it under Painted Spring Mountain. It must resent you."
Song Qianji retorted, "No, I fed it until it was full. It doesn’t hate me."
"Fierce beasts can’t be tamed by feeding," Xian Jianchen said. "Chaos is one of the four ancient fierce beasts, filled with overwhelming ferocity. Seeing these frenzied demon beasts will surely provoke its wild instincts, and it will come to devour you!"
"Roar!" A furious roar erupted, and a massive shadow blotted out the golden light of the rising sun.
The world instantly darkened.
The roar carried the oppressive might of ancient times, causing the hundreds of beasts to lift their heads and gaze upward.
Chaos descended from the sky like a steel fortress wall, positioning itself between the beast tide and the Shadowless Sword.
The six wings of Chaos stirred up a fierce wind that buffeted them. Song Qianji staggered, nearly falling off the Flying Sword.
Xian Jianchen steadied him. "See? Adding frost to snow!"
Chaos turned its head, its damp eyes fixed on them, and let out another low growl—this time without any trace of ferocity.
Xian Jianchen frowned. "What is it saying?"
Song Qianji patted Chaos’s long fur. "It says it’s sorry for being late and that it flew as fast as it could."
Xian Jianchen stood in stunned silence.
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