Moonlight Mystique

Chapter Fifty

By the side of the Stranger's Tomb, several streaks of sword light crisscrossed. The Drunk Old Man, wielding only a broken branch as his sword, effortlessly overpowered the three opponents. With three swift strikes of Sword Qi from the branch, Nan Wan and the other two were sent tumbling to the ground.

Chong Zhao barely managed to steady Er Yun, both of them with their Qi and blood in turmoil. Nan Wan wasn’t so fortunate—he collapsed to the ground, spitting out a mouthful of blood, clearly far more injured than the other two.

The Drunk Old Man slowly advanced toward them.

Bai Shuo, who had somehow hidden herself in the grass, was about to leap out upon seeing Chong Zhao in danger when a hand clamped over her mouth and yanked her back into the thicket.

She turned her head and was met with a face caked in powder and another pair of eyes brimming with resentment and anger.

Hua Da Tie and Fan Yue?!

What the hell? She had used a flying spell and had only just arrived—when did these two get here?!

The blatant accusation in her little disciple’s eyes made Bai Shuo feel a pang of guilt. Before she could speak, Hua Da Tie’s low voice sounded.

“Shh, don’t move! Forget about you lot of misfits—even if all the Fairy and Demon Disciples in Yi City joined forces, they wouldn’t stand a chance against that tomb guardian!”

Bai Shuo was shocked and pulled Hua Da Tie’s hand away. “Who is that old man? Yi City suppresses spiritual power—why doesn’t it affect him?”

Hua Da Tie glanced into the distance. “Have you heard of Rong Xian and Chang Linglong?”

Bai Shuo froze. Those two—she had indeed heard of them.

Rong Xian, a Sword Cultivator from Kunlun a thousand years ago, and Chang Linglong, the former Clan Chief of the Fox Tribe. These two were the first fairy and demon to fall in love in the Three Realms in tens of thousands of years.

Sixty thousand years ago, when the Divine Realm was sealed and the Demon God sought to destroy the world, the Yao Race was despised by all. The two races waged war for millennia—no one could say whether the Yao Race had killed more immortals or vice versa. The endless conflict had made the two races as incompatible as fire and water. Back then, not only was love between them forbidden, even mere interaction was taboo in the Three Realms. Yet, against all odds, Rong Xian—the head disciple of Kunlun, the foremost of the three immortal mountains—fell in love with Chang Linglong, the Fox Tribe’s Clan Chief. Unwilling to be drawn into the conflict, the two chose to forsake their inheritances—Rong Xian his position as Kunlun’s successor and Chang Linglong her role as Clan Chief—and retreated into seclusion together. Their love story even became a legend across the Three Realms.

But the peace didn’t last. Years later, Rong Xian suddenly returned to Kunlun to inherit the position of Sect Leader. Worse, he turned ruthless, leading Kunlun’s disciples into the Yao Realm and piercing Chang Linglong full of bloody holes on the battlefield. However, as evil deeds invite retribution, the treacherous Rong Xian later suffered Qi Deviation during his cultivation in Kunlun, nearly slaughtering the entire sect. Fortunately, the Heavenly Emperor Mu Guang arrived in time, saving what remained of Kunlun and striking Rong Xian down beneath the Sun and Moon Wheel.

Not long after this, the Heavenly Emperor established Yi City in the wastelands.

“I’ve heard of them. But what does this ancient history have to do with anything right now?”

“I’m afraid you haven’t heard the full story. Rong Xian and Chang Linglong were the first fairy-demon couple in the Three Realms, but few know they had a child.” Hua Da Tie sighed softly.

“A child?”

Bai Shuo glanced at the three nameless graves, then suddenly turned back. “Are you saying those three tombs are…?”

But if this was where Rong Xian’s family was buried, who was the old tomb guardian?

Before Hua Da Tie could answer, the Drunk Old Man had already made his move by the graves.

The Drunk Old Man advanced toward the three, his Sword Qi unrelenting as it shot straight for Nan Wan’s forehead. A flicker of terror flashed in Nan Wan’s eyes. At that moment, Chong Zhao leaped up, blocking the strike with his sword and pulling Nan Wan to safety.

Nan Wan stared at Chong Zhao in shock and disbelief. A mere disciple from Piaomiao—how could he possess such swordsmanship and spiritual power? Under the spirit-sealing restriction, he was even stronger than Nan Wan himself!"Senior, since this was only a contest for the Phoenix Heart Flame and we have already lost, why must you take his life?"

The Drunk Old Man let out a light hum of surprise, raising his bleary eyes. "I never expected the head disciple of Cloudsoar Sect to be outmatched by an unknown nobody. Boy, are you from the Misty Sect?"

"Yes," Chong Zhao replied solemnly, not underestimating his opponent.

"Impressive for a youngster. I like you, boy, so I'll spare your life." The Drunk Old Man turned his gaze to Nan Wan, a flash of red light flickering in his eyes, revealing a trace of Devilish Qi. "As for him... he touched the gravestones here earlier. In my book, that only leaves one outcome—death!"

Another surge of Sword Qi swept down from the Drunk Old Man, but a blade intercepted it midair as Er Yun leaped forward, joining Chong Zhao in shielding Nan Wan.

"What? You want to die with him?" The Drunk Old Man's voice darkened.

"All immortal sects share a common bond. Even if I cannot defeat you, Senior, I cannot stand by and watch you kill him." Chong Zhao raised his immortal Sword before him.

"Hmph! A common bond? Ridiculous!" The Drunk Old Man's eyes filled with mockery. "Since you seek death, I'll grant your wish!"

With a swing of his withered staff, the Drunk Old Man struck at Chong Zhao. Both Chong Zhao and Er Yun struggled to hold their ground. Just then, Nan Wan suddenly sprang up from the ground and launched a sneak attack, thrusting his Sword into the Drunk Old Man, who was locked in combat with the other two.

As the immortal Sword pierced his body, Spiritual Qi erupted. The Drunk Old Man grunted, looking down at the blade protruding from his abdomen.

Chong Zhao's expression changed.

Nan Wan's momentary triumph froze as he noticed not joy but horror in Chong Zhao's eyes. Following his gaze, Nan Wan stiffened—there wasn't a single drop of blood where his Sword had impaled the Drunk Old Man.

A chill ran down Nan Wan's spine. He tried to pull back his Sword, but the Drunk Old Man had already turned to stare at him, a sinister grin twisting his lips. His skeletal hands clamped tightly around the blade in his abdomen.

With a snap, the Drunk Old Man shattered the Sword with one hand. A golden light erupted from his body as it exploded into a swirling mist—he had no physical form?! What in the world was he?

Nan Wan had no time to ponder further. The mist suddenly reappeared behind him, coalescing back into human shape. Holding the broken half of the Sword, the Drunk Old Man drove it straight toward Nan Wan's chest.

"Senior, no!" Chong Zhao's face paled as he lunged to intervene, but it was too late.

From the bushes, Bai Shuo gasped in shock. Just as Nan Wan was about to meet his end, another immortal Sword shot through the air. Its Sword Qi was domineering yet pure, not aimed at the Drunk Old Man but directly at Nan Wan.

The white Sword Intent sent Nan Wan flying, causing the Drunk Old Man's broken blade to strike empty air. Nan Wan's life was spared.

Hidden in the grass, Bai Shuo watched the rapidly shifting battle with bated breath. In this critical moment, a thought suddenly crossed her mind.

Why? This Drunk Old Man seemed neither immortal nor demon, not benevolent but filled with hostility toward both races. Why would the Golden Yao Celestial place the Phoenix Heart Flame in this strange graveyard? The Drunk Old Man could crush them like ants—surely the venerable Golden Yao Celestial wouldn't send disciples of both races here to die?

By the graveside, the white immortal Sword struck its mark and withdrew without hesitation, returning to its owner's hand.

Everyone looked up to see a white-robed Immortal Lord emerge slowly from beneath a withered tree—it was Bei Chen of Kunlun.

What was he doing here?The Drunk Old Man stared at Bei Chen with a strange, cackling laugh. "A Kunlun Sword Cultivator?"

Bei Chen met the old man's gaze and spoke slowly. "Nan Wan came only for the Phoenix Tree Spiritual Artifact, with no intention to offend the ancestors. We ask for your mercy, Senior."

"Mercy?" The Drunk Old Man seemed to particularly loathe those words. He took a large swig of wine. "Scum of the immortal sects—living is nothing but a scourge."

Even as he drank, his hands never stopped moving. The withered branch in his palm suddenly pulsed with spiritual light, transforming into an immortal Sword that shot toward Bei Chen.

Yet, beneath the Sword's gleam, Bei Chen neither dodged nor evaded, causing the onlookers to pale in shock.

"Lord Bei Chen!"

In the blink of an eye, the immortal Sword halted just an inch from Bei Chen's forehead. The Drunk Old Man narrowed his eyes at him.

"Why not dodge?"

"Kunlun's teachings dictate: when encountering a Senior, do not fight, do not evade, do not harm."

"What fine words—do not fight, do not evade, do not harm… Hypocrisy! Kunlun deserves death!" The Drunk Old Man sneered, flicking his wrist. The Sword's light flared once more, continuing its thrust toward Bei Chen's forehead. Still, Bei Chen did not move, instead closing his eyes.

What kind of lunatics were these?!

"Senior Rong Xian!"

A shout pierced the night, and the immortal Sword poised at Bei Chen's brow abruptly froze. A thin trail of blood trickled down from his forehead.

Amid the tense standoff, Bai Shuo dashed forward, his face tense with worry.

Chong Zhao watched Bai Shuo's sudden appearance, his expression shifting several times before he glared at the youth emerging slowly from the darkness behind Bai Shuo.

But the youth no longer wore the timid demeanor from the inn earlier. Instead, a trace of coldness lingered between his brows. His gaze remained fixed on Bai Shuo, as though everyone else were mere dust.

The crowd was stunned by Bai Shuo's sudden appearance, none more so than Nan Wan. After all the chaos, Bai Shuo's fake mustache had long since fallen off. Catching the concern in Chong Zhao's eyes, Nan Wan instantly realized he had been fooled.

"You!" He pointed at Bai Shuo, his face darkening, but then he suddenly recalled Bai Shuo's shout to the Drunk Old Man.

Rong Xian? The Kunlun Sect Leader from a thousand years ago, Rong Xian? Hadn't he died long ago?

Everyone turned their eyes to the Drunk Old Man, who stared blankly at Bai Shuo, his expression unreadable.

"What did you call me?"

"Senior Rong Xian." Bai Shuo took a step forward, subtly shielding Chong Zhao behind him.

"Who is Rong Xian? That beast died long ago." The Drunk Old Man scoffed.

"How could he be Kunlun's former Sect Leader? A thousand years ago, Rong Xian succumbed to Qi Deviation and died at the hands of His Majesty Mu Guang!" Nan Wan gasped as he struggled to his feet, staring at the Drunk Old Man in disbelief.

"A thousand years ago, Kunlun's lineage was nearly wiped out by your slaughter, Senior. The grudges of the past no longer bind Kunlun today. Had Lord Bei Chen not recognized you as a Senior, why would he refuse to draw his Sword?!"

The Drunk Old Man's mocking laughter ceased. His white hair draped over his face, obscuring his aged, weathered features.

Bai Shuo turned to Bei Chen and spoke softly. "Lord Bei Chen, you've never met Sect Leader Rong Xian before. What you recognized was Kunlun's Sword Qi, wasn't it?"

All eyes shifted to Bei Chen.

Before his forehead, the immortal Sword blazed with spiritual light. Bei Chen did not speak, merely raising a hand to point at the Sword. The spiritual light dissipated from the withered branch-turned-Sword, revealing a blade as pure as snow—a Kunlun iron Sword!

The white iron Sword flew back to the Drunk Old Man's side, nuzzling against his palm with a faint, trembling hum.

Bei Chen's silence was confirmation. The Drunk Old Man truly was Kunlun's former Sect Leader—Rong Xian!"No matter what happened a thousand years ago, Lord Bei Chen was merely a disciple of Kunlun. The events of that time have nothing to do with him. Why must you harm the innocent, Senior?"

"Innocent? If he's innocent, then everyone in this world is innocent!"

The Drunk Old Man suddenly raised his head, his eyes flashing with a crimson light, revealing a trace of madness. Without warning, he swung his Sword at Bai Shuo.

Was this former Sect Leader of Kunlun insane? Stabbing at anyone he saw!

Chong Zhao and Fan Yue both lunged toward Bai Shuo, but to their surprise, Bai Shuo seemed to have anticipated Rong Xian would harm her. Before the Sword moved, she suddenly grabbed someone beside her and held them in front as a shield.

The iron Sword stopped right at that person's chest, halting abruptly.