Chapter 31: A Sword Slash Across the Heavens
Chapter 31: A Sword Slash Across the Heavens
Not long ago, at the summit of Heaven-Mending Peak, within a secluded cultivation cave.
Unlike the bustling activity and worldly chaos below, the peak’s summit was serene, with only drifting clouds to mark the passage of time—a realm apart from the mortal world.
At the edge of a cliff, two figures stood overlooking the sea of clouds.
One was a white-haired elder with a youthful complexion, clad in a black-and-white Daoist robe, holding a whisk of white horsehair. He looked every inch the benevolent immortal from mortal legends.
The other, a middle-aged man with a mischievous smirk, spoke first.
“Mending, I heard you’re choosing a husband for your daughter?”
The Heaven-Mending Peak master turned slightly, his expression unreadable. “Why? Are you interested? If one of your disciples is worthy, they might make a suitable match for Qian’er.”
“Pass,” the middle-aged man chuckled, shaking his head. “My disciples are all style over substance. They’d never survive your daughter’s temper. Find someone else.”
“Fine then,” the Peak master replied, waving a hand. “Truth is, I’ve already chosen. He’s cultivated three lifetimes, has deep merits, and a three-in-ten chance of forging the Dao Foundation. Plus, after mastering the Nine Metamorphosis Dragon Art, he’s… formidable in bed.”
“Coiling Dragon Cultivator? That’s impossible,” the man countered, frowning. “The Coiling Dragon Isle vanished weeks ago. Someone else already claimed its fortune.”
“They’ll claim it soon enough,” the Peak master said coolly. “I’ve divined the thief’s identity. I sent Yuan’chun to retrieve it. Balance will return shortly.”
“Harsh,” the man sighed. “Cultivation is hard enough. Why crush a junior over this?”
“Giving them hope keeps our Holy Sect alive,” the Peak master replied, then paused. “But this thief… they’re no ordinary disciple.”
His voice sharpened with intrigue. “They entered our sect mere years ago. Survived the Soul-Stealing Yin Puppet crisis, cultivated the Blood Transformation Ray, forged a Sword Core, mastered the Jade Pivot Sword Pavilion’s techniques, and reached Refining Qi’s sixth layer.”
“Truly?” The man’s eyes widened. After a moment’s calculation, he exhaled. “Who’d have thought our sect produced such a prodigy?”
He stepped closer, intrigued. “Point them out. Let me see their potential. If they’re exceptional, I’ll craft a pill to aid them.”
“Simple enough. They’re right—”
The Peak master’s words froze as his gaze locked onto the horizon. His smile faded.
Boom!
The heavens trembled. Rocks tumbled into the clouds as Heaven-Mending Peak quaked, as if the earth itself recoiled.
In a distant cave, Liu Xin pressed himself to the ground, trembling. Not me. Not me. He stifled his breath, praying the Peak master’s gaze wouldn’t fall on him.
That was a Foundation Building Realm cultivator. A single glance could shatter a Qi Gathering disciple like an ant. Worse, hidden in his Ten-Thousand Spirit Banner was the thief’s son. Discovery meant annihilation.
No need to fear. This talisman hides me. He clutched a charm, his hands shaking.
“Yuan’chun pays homage to Master.”
Lu Yuanchun knelt, blood dripping from his lips. He dared not rise, though failure gnawed at his heart.
The Jade Amulet he’d shattered to summon the Peak master’s divine will—its power was irreplaceable. A Foundation disciple’s lifeline, now gone.
Worse, he’d failed to reclaim the thief’s fortune for his junior brother Zhao. Worse still, Zhao was dead.
His cultivation path was over.
“I’ve failed you.” Lu Yuanchun dared no excuses, only bowing lower, awaiting judgment—after the Peak master dealt with Lv Yang.
Zing!
A sudden sword cry pierced the air. Soft at first, like a mountain spring, but swelling into a thunderous roar, as if a river had burst its banks.
Lu Yuanchun looked up.
Above the clouds, a lone figure stood unyielding beneath the Peak master’s gaze, spine straight, meeting the heavens with defiance.
Beneath his feet surged a crimson river of Sword Qi, its blood-tainted waters roaring with fury—then collapsing inward, drawn into a luminous Sword Core.
“What is he doing?” Lu Yuanchun’s throat tightened. He knew, yet refused to believe. Who dared challenge the heavens?
The Peak master’s voice rumbled. “You dare strike me?”
Lv Yang’s reply was cold. “I seek your guidance, Senior.”
The heavens answered with silence.
Then—a speck appeared in the sky. It grew, descending like a mountain, resolving into a colossal finger, skin with every line and crease sharply defined, as if plucked from the void.
So that’s your answer? Lv Yang’s heart burned. A god’s gaze to crush an ant?
The world seemed to freeze.
“Trying to squash me with one finger?!”
Lv Yang inhaled, his Qi erupting like wildfire. The Slaughter Incantation, earned in his second life, roared to life.
Thoughts of survival vanished.
All that remained was rage.
This life, he’d cultivated quietly, yet you wove fate to steal his fortune. When your disciples failed, you struck yourself.
Talk of karmic cycles. Talk of predestined chances.
Am I born to be a beast of burden, while you sit enthroned?
Kill!
Lv Yang roared, his Qi condensing into a sword beam—a white-hot arc cleaving the void.
The collision was silent.
A flicker, like a candle snuffed out.
Then darkness swallowed the sky—and Lv Yang’s consciousness.
(End of Chapter)
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