Sarun Agu laughed:
“Before your master left with the founding emperor of the Great Feng, he often played Go with me. We used Heaven and Earth as the board, all living beings as pieces. Sometimes, a single game would last over a decade before it ended.”
He flicked his shepherd’s whip— snap! And the formation on the surface of the Bagua Platform shattered in response.
“Then let’s take this game seriously. This piece is called Wei Yuan.”
The Jianzheng took a sip of wine and placed a piece on the board. Sarun Agu’s figure distorted like a radio wave, only returning to normal after some time.
Far away in Mount Jing City, in a city in the midst of reconstruction, the earth suddenly shook as if in an earthquake, new halls collapsed, and a giant chasm dozens of yards deep split the ground.
“What a coincidence, my piece is also called Wei Yuan.”
Sarun Agu flicked his shepherd’s whip, rolling up a piece and dropping it onto the board.
In the clouds above the Stargazing Tower, a bolt of lightning as thick as a bucket suddenly struck, but it did not fall upon the Jianzheng, vanishing midway, as if into another dimension.
“It’s always troublesome to act on the Great Feng’s land, reckless of me…”
The Jianzheng nodded slightly, raised his wine cup, took a light sip, and did not rush to play another move, smiling:
“But your steady, cautious style really does resemble my teacher’s. So that’s where he learned it. I wonder if his pedantic stubbornness also came from you… Confucian Sage!”
As the piece called “Confucian Sage” landed, blood seeped from Sarun Agu’s warlock robe, vanishing instantly.
Far off in the Kingdom of Kang, a massive tsunami suddenly rose.
Sarun Agu seemed a shade paler and said quietly:
“In my view, even if he was stubborn, even if he betrayed the Church of the Warlock God, he was still better than a wretched disciple who killed his own master like you. When he governed Great Feng, he never once made war on the Church of the Warlock God… Warlock God!”
The whip rolled up a piece and snapped it onto the board.
The Jianzheng was unfazed, instead splashing his wine to scatter the dark clouds above.
Within the Great Feng’s borders, so long as the dynasty stood, he was invincible beneath Beyond-rank.
The Jianzheng narrowed his eyes and said, “When Emperor Wuzong rose up, it was the trend of the times. The lineage five hundred years ago favoured treacherous officials, sought pleasure and hedonism, and so corruption flourished and the people suffered. My master thought, given time, the Great Feng would recover, cleanse itself, and restore a just bureaucracy.
“But I thought destruction was necessary for renewal. The Great Feng needed to be reborn in fire. In the end, I won. These five hundred years of peace and prosperity are my best repayment for all I learned from him.”
Sarun Agu slowly walked to the edge of the Bagua Platform and looked out over the capital, saying, “And now, the Great Feng is just as it was five hundred years ago.”
The Jianzheng replied, “One cannot have renewal without destruction.”
Five hundred years later, I’m still the same Jianzheng, unchanged in the slightest.
…
“Sarun Agu?”
Xu Qi’an suddenly realised and spoke the Great Warlock’s name.
Only a first rank could deal with another first rank.
The Church of the Warlock God was scheming to seize the Great Feng’s dragon ley, to bring the Central Plains into its domain, make Great Feng a vassal. Of course, Sarun Agu would not miss this grand event.
No wonder Emperor Zhende was so confident.
“Not too stupid are you!”
Zhende’s lips split in a grin, proud and wild.
He seems completely unable to control his emotions, or perhaps, perhaps he never even thought to. Any Daoist expert who had fallen into madness would be flamboyant; restraint would be the anomaly… Xu Qi’an thought to himself, perhaps I could use Zhende’s madness to my advantage?
“Hey, killing the Zhenbei King was a thrill. Oh, I forgot, that was you. You’re just my defeated underling. Back in Chuzhou, I made you beg for mercy, and today I’ll smash your dog head again.”
Xu Qi’an did his best to appear arrogant and insolent.
Sure enough, Zhende’s face twitched, fury blazing in his eyes. But in the next instant, he reined in his emotions and said coolly,
“Petty tricks, do you really think a few words can anger Us?”
Little bastard, sooner or later I’ll tear you to pieces… the little soul inside Zhende raged.
So it had little effect after all, madness does not mean stupidity… Xu Qi’an was a bit disappointed. If Zhende’s anger had lasted just a second longer, he would have raised a middle finger and shouted,
Come at me, then~
“So when you were forced to issue that self-reproach edict, losing your temper in the hall, you were just acting?” Xu Qi’an asked.
Zhende sneered, “Guess.”
Xu Qi’an cast a casual glance towards the capital, keeping a neutral expression as he said,
“I’m guessing you used that moment to vent your rage at the Zhenbei King’s death, or perhaps the anger had surpassed your limit and you simply couldn’t control yourself.”
Zhende gave no answer, whether out of contempt, or tacit agreement, it was unclear.
He turned his head towards the capital and said leisurely, “You’re waiting for Luo Yuheng, aren’t you?”
Xu Qi’an’s expression changed.
Seeing this, Zhende’s smile grew, a touch mocking, a touch sardonic, as he said,
“Luo Yuheng refused to dual cultivate with me, even resented my path because it weakened the nation’s fortune, leaving her with too little fortune to overcome her tribulation. If she could seize the chance to kill me and support a new emperor, she might still have a slim hope.”
Xu Qi’an’s face stiffened.
He heard Zhende laugh slyly, “I’ve arranged for her a most interesting opponent.”
…
Far from the Southern Gardens, in the capital’s outskirts.
Luo Yuheng frowned, looking at the black figure before her. He stood atop a blooming black lotus, foul black fluid oozing from his body, and his eyes brimmed with malice.
With the black lotus as the centre, for several li all around, plants withered, animals’ eyes turned red, losing reason, only knowing how to mate, or fight each other to the death.
Even the tiniest insects fought each other.
“Dear niece!”
Heilian licked his lips with a slurping sound, his tone filthy and lascivious:
“Come to Uncle, I’ll dual cultivate with you and show you what it means to be a woman, heh heh~”
Luo Yuheng’s mouth twitched. She drew her rusty iron sword and shouted in fury, “Scram!”
A blinding burst of sword energy, so fierce that even the mating animals and insects died in an instant, wiped out by the sword’s intent alone.
The blooming black lotus spewed out jets of thick, pitch-black liquid, which swarmed around the sword energy and, with a sizzling sound, quickly dissolved Luo Yuheng’s powerful slash.
“How many strikes can you withstand?”
Luo Yuheng sneered, hugged her sword, and spiralled into the sky, hurling out countless piercing sword lights as she spun.
Sword intent filled the heavens.
Sssst, sssst, sssst… Daoist Leader Heilian was pierced by the storm of sword energy, but his body seemed to be made of sewage sludge, black liquid oozed out and rapidly sealed up every wound.
Instead, the surrounding ground was blasted into crater after crater, as if it had just been bombarded by artillery.
The black liquid streaming from the Daoist Leader’s body seemed to dim a shade.
Against the Human Sect swordsmanship, which in the arts of killing was no weaker than that of a martial artist, he had still suffered some injury.
Daoist Leader Heilian took a deep breath, his belly swelling, a “ball” slowly rose to his throat and then, with a sudden expulsion, he spat out a jet-black river, engulfing Luo Yuheng as if to drag her into corruption with him.
“Dear niece, your senior uncle’s been longing for your body for ages, ahahahaha…”
Daoist Leader Heilian laughed maniacally, wicked and insane.
Sssht!
The rusty iron sword split the filthy torrent, light flashed, and the blade pierced right through Daoist Leader Heilian’s heart.
Luo Yuheng’s figure appeared from nowhere, gripping the iron sword, and gave a slight shake to fling off the few drops of black liquid.
She dared not let even a trace of the other’s corrupting power touch her; even the tiniest drop could provoke the karmic fire within her.
But this sword could. This iron sword was the Human Sect’s ancestral treasure, containing the sword intent of countless past patriarchs.
That was why, just now, Luo Yuheng had become one with her sword, merging herself into the blade to break through the sticky black liquid.
“Ah, it hurts! It hurts!!”
Daoist Leader Heilian clutched his chest, howling in pain.
Enraged, he found his beautiful, enchanting niece no longer cute at all, and shrieked venomously,
“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you… I’ll drag you back for dual cultivation, I’ll drag you back for dual cultivation… Do I kill you or dual cultivate? So annoying, so annoying…”
With these manic roars, his body suddenly collapsed, transforming into a black face the size of a house, made of syrupy, pitch-black fluid.
The huge face opened its mouth wide and lunged at Luo Yuheng, intent on swallowing her whole.
The National Teacher flipped her rusty sword and lightly thrust.
Boom!
The face exploded, black rain pouring from the sky.
The sword light swept several li, slicing a mountaintop clean off before shooting away into the distance.
Luo Yuheng stood sword in hand, expression calm: “That’s it?”
“I’ve decided, I’ll kill you after all,” Daoist Leader Heilian’s figure reformed, his aura dimmer yet again.
This annoying niece, better she was dead.
“Jinlian asked for my help to deal with you together. I didn’t want to, simply because I don’t like to risk myself for others. But this time, someone else asked for my help.
“And since he asked, I might as well show some real skill.”
Luo Yuheng gently bit her finger, dabbed a spot of blood onto the rusty iron sword, and murmured,
“Heilian, you may want to start running now.”
Confident and domineering.
…
Zhende erupted in wild laughter. Xu Qi’an’s brief flicker of unease hit his sweet spot, he delighted in this feeling of crushing his opponent, enjoyed letting this self-styled saviour realise how laughable and insignificant he truly was.
“A peak third-rank martial artist really does take some effort to kill, but it’s fine, you’ll soon taste absolute terror.”
He eyed Xu Qi’an with playful malice, looking for wariness, confusion, or even a trace of panic in his gaze.
But all he saw was Xu Qi’an’s mocking smile:
“You’re stalling for King Huai, aren’t you?”
Now it was Zhende’s turn to change expression, eyes narrowing.
He watched Xu Qi’an warily, snorted, “Seems your brain isn’t just for show. But what does it matter? Who in the Great Feng can stop an undying body martial artist?”
Xu Qi’an ignored him, gaze drifting to Yuanjing’s corpse. For those who’d mastered the One Qi Transforming Three Purities technique, as long as a single body survived, given enough time, they could regrow the other two.
Of course, a destroyed body couldn’t be revived; Yuanjing’s flesh was truly dead. But King Huai was different, King Huai was a third-rank martial artist.
Having reached third rank himself, Xu Qi’an knew, as long as one received enough vital force…
“You think only a third-rank can stop a third-rank?” Xu Qi’an smiled sweetly.
Zhende’s face darkened.
He looked at Xu Qi’an coldly, his tone sinister:
“Do you know how King Huai was revived? That’s my third reason for killing Wei Yuan.”
Come, let’s hurt each other.
Xu Qi’an’s smile faded, and he squeezed out three words through clenched teeth: “You— want— death—”
A fierce battle erupted instantly.
…
A figure flew through the air in heavy armour, features handsome and not unlike Emperor Yuanjing, sharp phoenix eyes filled with disdain.
The Zhenbei King.
He was rushing over from the imperial mausoleum. When his corpse had been shipped to the capital from Chuzhou, Yuanjing’s efforts to cover up the massacre enraged all officials, leading to a huge uproar as the ministers besieged the Meridian Gate with endless protests.
In such chaos, no one paid attention to the Zhenbei King’s corpse, after all, fighting the emperor was the top priority.
Even Xu Qi’an and Zheng Xinghuai had focused only on the court situation, ignoring the body.
Little did they know, this was precisely Zhende’s plan.
The Zhenbei King’s corpse had always been hidden in the imperial mausoleum, and he had only just revived recently.
Whoosh!
A flying sword shot at the Zhenbei King’s throat.
He casually swatted it away, sending it spinning back.
He hovered in mid-air, glancing up at a distant spot in the sky, where two swords floated, each with two people standing atop them.
A dishevelled swordsman, a plainly robed monk, a wheat-skinned young woman, and a beautiful Daoist-robed maiden.
“I wondered who it was, so it’s you lot!”
The Zhenbei King sneered and shook his head. “You ragtag lot want to block our path?”
So this was Xu Qi’an’s trump card?
Really?
Chu Yuanzhen, Li Miaozhen, and Lina turned, some glancing at the grim Master Hengyuan.
“Amitabha.”
Hengyuan pressed his palms together, voice deep: “You slaughtered three hundred and eighty thousand people in Chuzhou. It pained this humble monk to the extreme, if only I’d had the chance to guide you back then…”
Chu Yuanzhen cut him off with a laugh: “Spare us the speeches, Master. Let’s get to work. Our job isn’t just to delay him for a quarter of an hour, but to wear him down as much as possible.”
Hengyuan nodded solemnly: “Fair point!”
When dealing with one so steeped in sin, there was truly no need to waste words, it was best to subdue him with the wrathful gaze of a vajra.
Above Hengyuan’s head, a Sharira appeared, radiating pure, gentle golden light.
He then took a sheet of paper from his robes and, with a flick, set it alight.
The core technique of a Miracle Priest — Greater Summoning!
From the formless void, a figure in monk’s robes and kindly expression descended. After merging with the Sharira, this somewhat indistinct phantom instantly became tangible.
This was an Arhat, a Rank Two of the Buddhist sect, an Arhat!
Of course, the summoned heroic soul, even boosted by a Sharira, could never equal a true Arhat.
But with Hengyuan as the main force and Li Miaozhen and the others as support, they could just about hold off a peak third-rank martial artist.
King Huai’s eyebrows rose at this sight: “It won’t even take a quarter of an hour to deal with you all.”
He acted disdainful, but inwardly grew wary.
Master Hengyuan pressed his palms together and bowed his head in prayer. From his mouth, tangible golden Buddhist characters floated forth, merging into a golden “river” that surged towards the Zhenbei King.
The Zhenbei King staggered, head splitting with pain, seized by a powerful urge for self-destruction. He could no longer stand in the air and plummeted to the ground.
A seventh rank Dharmacarya, an expert at conducting rites for the dead!
If it was a departed soul, it would find release and return to the world; if it was a living person, it would be overcome with a carelessness for mortality, wanting to make themselves into a departed soul. If you did not wish to die, Buddhism would say: No, you want to die.
Lina was the first to leap from her sword. The little dark-skinned girl of the Southern Marches was always at the front in a fight. She tucked in her limbs and shot towards the ground like an arrow, and as she closed in on King Huai, she spread her arms and legs and circled behind him.
King Huai was still in that state of blinding pain and despair. Lina hooked her legs around his iron waist and grabbed both his arms from behind, yelling as she forcefully pulled his arms backward.
As expected of the young prodigy of the Strength Gu tribe, she actually grappled with King Huai, holding out for a few seconds.
Whoosh!
Chu Yuanzhen drew his plain iron sword and sent it flying.
Li Miaozhen, meanwhile, raised her right hand, palm facing the Zhenbei King.
Clatter… His armour, inner clothes, belt, shoes, all betrayed him, tightening at his waist and neck, hindering his movements, helping Lina.
Chu Yuanzhen’s iron sword soon arrived, stabbing at King Huai’s brow, but there was no explosion of energy, this was a heart sword.
A blow straight to the soul.
The Heaven and Earth Society members worked seamlessly to control him, holding this peak third-rank martial artist for over five seconds.
With Hengyuan as the main force, he would not miss such a chance. Chanting “thou shalt not kill” he raised a fist the size of a wok and hammered down on the Zhenbei King with a storm of blows.
An Arhat’s “precepts” could restrain King Huai for a long time.
Bang bang bang!
Fists slammed against the martial artist’s body, sending out shockwaves strong enough to kill any martial artist below Bronze Skin and Iron Bones, spraying Lina with blood as she clung to his arms.
King Huai’s qi grew unstable.
Bang! The Zhenbei King’s armour exploded, flinging Lina away like a broken kite, his martial aura shattering everything nearby, including Master Hengyuan.
Lina’s arms twisted and broke, bones piercing flesh, she was instantly out of the fight.
From the start, the Heaven and Earth Society’s goal had never been to kill King Huai, it was simply impossible.
First, Hengyuan summoned the heroic soul of an Arhat, whose strength could not match the original, and even a true Arhat would have struggled to kill a peak third-rank martial artist.
Second, this heroic soul would only last a quarter of an hour, how could they hope to kill such a stubborn, tough foe in so short a time?
Finally, the gap between third and fourth rank was vast; the opponent could make countless mistakes, but a single mistake on their side could mean total annihilation.
King Huai was ruthless, skilled at striking when the enemy was weak, and would show no mercy even to a woman. His fist, charged with vital energy, was about to finish off the Southern Marches girl.
Master Hengyuan pressed his palms together: “Do not break the precept against killing.”
King Huai’s fist stopped, unable to strike.
Li Miaozhen seized the moment, pointed her palm at Lina and flung her far away.
She wasn’t worried about Lina’s injuries, Strength Gu experts couldn’t match martial artists’ freakish defences, but they had amazing healing powers. As long as they didn’t die, they would recover, with the time depending on the wound.
Back in the underground palace, Lina had suffered a mortal blow from that ghastly creature, yet after a night’s sleep was as good as new.
The Heaven and Earth Society was now down to three.
Chu Yuanzhen and Li Miaozhen, true pillars of the society, unleashed their might, one controlling hundreds of flying swords with Human Sect techniques, the other using soul banners, soul bells, and other magical artefacts to trap King Huai in a formation.
With Hengyuan at the centre, battle raged.
In the struggle, hundreds of flying swords were exhausted, some shattering, some melting to slag, and the magical artefacts Li Miaozhen had brought from her sect were finally spent.
King Huai’s aura was noticeably weaker, but to a martial artist of this level, not even ten minutes’ rest was enough to fully recover; it barely mattered.
This won’t do… This won’t work… Chu Yuanzhen thought bitterly.
Their task was to hold King Huai for a quarter of an hour and wear him down, but with the Sharira’s help, it was only possible to stall. To seriously injure him was nearly impossible.
If King Huai joined Zhende at full strength, their fusion would spell certain defeat for Xu Qi’an.
A peak third-rank combined with a second-rank master, that was a qualitative leap.
King Huai’s eyes were cold as he stared at the swordsman in azure, sneering:
“Chu Yuanzhen, you were a fine zhuangyuan scholar, but you chose the sword instead? After all these years, all you have is a bunch of useless fancy tricks. I’ve seen too many like you, naive scholars who leave their office in a huff, thinking themselves romantic, but it’s just foolishness. What have you actually achieved? You resent me for cultivating Dao, but what can you do about it? Can that three-foot blade in your hand harm me at all?”
Once he had been a brilliant scholar, first in the civil service exams, proud and high-spirited. Yet, over some trivial matter, he grew resentful of his sovereign and turned to the sword.
Now, he was just another nobody.
Utterly laughable.
King Huai spoke as he fixed Chu Yuanzhen with a predatory stare.
What did it feel like to be targeted by a third-rank expert, one-on-one?
Chu Yuanzhen found out.
He stood frozen, as if carrying two mountains, hair standing on end, hands and feet trembling.
King Huai scoffed, between fourth and third rank, the difference was like that between mortal and immortal. He did not take this failed scholar-turned-swordsman seriously at all.
“Amitabha!”
Master Hengyuan strode forward, unleashed a Buddhist Lion’s Roar: “Slay the traitor!”
The Arhat phala: executioner of evil!
The Arhat that had merged with him now floated out, manifesting a wrathful Vajra image in the air, dazzling radiance forming intricate patterns across its surface.
An aura of absolute strength and ferocity filled the heavens and earth.
The avatar’s eyes shot forth beams of golden light, enveloping King Huai.
Even though he sensed the crisis, King Huai found himself unable to dodge, as if petrified. The next moment, his eyeballs shot out, and two blood-soaked holes appeared in his face.
Blood streamed from his nostrils, mouth, and ears.
Blood poured from all seven orifices.
It was as if someone had struck King Huai on the forehead with a heavy cudgel; he jerked violently backwards, staggering and reeling.
After that blow, the Sharira receded back into the body, and Hengyuan’s vitality and spirit plummeted. His strength was spent; he could no longer fight.
King Huai let out a roar of unbearable pain. The blow had done tremendous damage; he clutched his face, spine bent in agony.
Li Miaozhen dropped from her flying sword, swooping towards Hengyuan, trying to carry him away.
But with the power of the Arhat’s Sharira gone, she finally realised how terrifying a third-rank martial artist truly was, she could not move.
King Huai’s five fingers made a grasping motion, and Li Miaozhen found herself utterly immobilised. It seemed that if he clenched his fist, this Holy Maiden of the Heaven Sect would be crushed to pieces.
Chu Yuanzhen’s eyes widened at the sight, and the longsword he’d never drawn in his wanderings began to tremble violently on his back.
King Huai was just about to crush Li Miaozhen when, sensing something, he spun round.
The longsword on Chu Yuanzhen’s back trembled more fiercely than ever.
“Oh? Chu Yuanzhen, you still want to draw your sword?”
King Huai sneered, “Ant, do you dare draw your sword at Us?”
A fourth rank, what difference was there from an ant?
Chu Yuanzhen’s limbs still trembled, pupils unfocused, and memories from his life swirled up in his mind.
Chu Yuanzhen had been an orphan since childhood, adopted by a childless couple. After they passed away, he studied under a great scholar, a teacher renowned for his knowledge but hopeless in officialdom, stubborn and intractable, forever struggling in the bureaucracy.
He had always told Chu Yuanzhen, “Don’t be like me.”
In the 27th year of Yuanjing, Chu Yuanzhen placed first in the imperial exams, earning the title of zhuangyuan, and his teacher, weeping with joy, clapped him on the shoulder and said, once again, “Don’t be like me.”
Those who placed first in the exams were always destined for greatness. All that was needed was a little tact, to blend in and not make waves, how could he fail to realise his ambitions?
With his teacher’s example before him, Chu Yuanzhen was not stubborn by nature, his heart burned with hope.
That same year, a severe drought struck Yongzhou. Famine was everywhere, the court’s relief efforts failed, and corpses lined the roads.
At that moment, Emperor Yuanjing was busy refining pills, each batch costing tens of thousands of taels of silver.
That “incorrigible” scholar rebuked Yuanjing harshly in the Golden Throne Hall, every word like a blade, then smashed his own head on a pillar and died.
The emperor said: “My dear lord, so quick to die for righteousness.”
No one dared intervene.
Before dying, the teacher gripped Chu Yuanzhen’s hand and repeated his last words: “Don’t be like me…”
But Chu Yuanzhen left the court, wandering the world with sword in hand, because his heart would not rest.
It could never rest.
Chu Yuanzhen shouted, “Draw!”
With a clang, the three-foot sword on his back soared skyward.
At last, this sword was drawn.
*If today I show my blade, who has grief unrested? *
Boom!
The earth rose up, clods, yellow sand, and shattered stone leapt skyward, following the longsword.
In an instant, a thousand-foot-long earthen dragon appeared behind Chu Yuanzhen, soaring into the sky, its head the very sword itself.
To draw the sword was already so magnificent.
“Go!”
Chu Yuanzhen pointed his fingers like a sword at King Huai.
The mighty, soaring earthen dragon lowered its head, circled its master three times, then, guided by Chu Yuanzhen’s sword gesture, roared forth.
King Huai realised how powerful this sword was. As Chu Yuanzhen made his move, he retreated at top speed, darting left and right like a phantom.
But at this moment, this swordsman, who had walked the Human Sect path on a martial artist’s foundation, with his self-created Intent Cultivation, showed his most unreasonable side.
The longsword broke free of the “dragon’s body”, flashed out of sight, then reappeared, far away, where King Huai, despite all his dodging, looked down in shock at the gaping hole in his chest.
A sword through the heart.
Ten years of a scholar’s ideals, finally unleashed today.
The Zhenbei King screamed in agony, face twisted with a pain that was almost unimaginable for a third-rank martial artist.
The hole in his chest would not heal.
His aura finally fell from peak third rank.
He had confidently returned to the world, seeking bloody revenge, only to have his strength shattered by a few fourth ranks he had called ants.
And those ants…
The Zhenbei King, barely holding back his pain, glanced at the horizon, at the retreating figures, just black dots now.
The ants had run off, delighted.
He could recover from such injuries in half an hour at most, but he couldn’t afford to wait.
He had to go support “himself.”
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