A Blind Swordsman's Sword Coffin

Dozens of spatial rifts opened, and endless demonic qi soon engulfed the entire mountain range.

A pitch-black domain hung in midair like a vast canopy. Inside that four-sided domain, everything was completely dark. Nothing inside could be seen or heard.

Within the domain, the slaughter was entirely one-sided. There were twenty red-robed elites gathered there, all of them of the four upper ranks of the organization—Chi, Mei, Wang, and Liang. There were hundreds more red-robed cultivators of the Heaven, Earth, Black, and Yellow ranks.

The rest was a seemingly endless army of Abyssal Demons. Such a powerful force could wipe out any major faction.

Among them were even two Liang-tier existences, the highest rank within the organization.

The Abyssal Demons stretched as far as the eye could see, rampaging without restraint. The boundless demonic qi nourished them, while the corpses of fallen cultivators allowed them to evolve.

The screams were incessant. As the demons grew in power, the cultivators steadily weakened.

Explosions, cries, and wails filled the air. The chaos battered everyone’s minds as madness and bloodlust spread through the battlefield.

At the urgent shouts of the Three Pavilions’ hidden agents, the tens of thousands of cultivators soon formed small groups to resist the Abyssal Demons.

“Can any of you still send messages out?!”

“No! We’ve been cut off by the domain!”

“Watch each other’s backs! Hold on no matter what! Pavilion Master Li will find a way to save us!”

The massacre continued. Hundreds of red-robed cultivators lay scattered across the battlefield, some of them in the Illusory Refinement Realm or even the Combined Body Realm.

Li Guanqi’s expression darkened, and he said coldly, “We’ve lost contact...”

The cultivators of the Six Territories would suffer tremendous losses this time, but Li Guanqi’s feelings were complicated.

This was human nature. Others were trying to save them, yet their own narrow-minded arrogance led them to assume the worst. In the end, that arrogance cost them their lives.

Li Guanqi narrowed his eyes. Space warped faintly across the Heavenly Intelligence Map, and he finally breathed a little easier.

Inside the pitch-black hall, Sha rose and walked toward a hidden inner chamber.

Before long, he arrived at a frigid dungeon. Severed limbs and mangled flesh lay scattered everywhere.

The stench of rotting flesh filled the air. Black demonic qi flooded the dungeon like an icy river, rising three chi from the floor.

A single candle flickered in the gloom. A chubby man hung in midair, chains piercing his shoulder blades.

Sha approached one step at a time, studying the man’s hollow eye sockets with a pleased expression. The man’s primordial soul and cultivation were intact.

He could not allow Tang Ru to die since a dead Tang Ru held no value to him, and he even had to prevent Tang Ru from committing suicide. Therefore, Sha had sealed Tang Ru’s dantian and divine soul, shattered every tooth, torn his tongue apart, and crushed his limbs. Then he had submerged Tang Ru in demonic qi and left his flesh to rot.

Tang Ru’s caved-in chest rose and fell faintly, as if he had sensed something in the distance.

With his last remaining strength, he slowly raised his head. The instant he sensed the presence before him, he spat out a spray of blood.

Pfft!

Sha tapped one of the suspended droplets, then leaned closer with a smile. “Save your strength. I’ll ask you one more time. How many swords are inside Li Guanqi’s sword coffin?”

Tang Ru let out a hoarse, sinister laugh. “How many, you ask...? Heh... I... don’t know... If you have the guts... kill me...”

Sha wasted no more words. His fingers sharpened into talons and dug into the crown of Tang Ru’s skull. As his fingers sank into bone, a mysterious force spread out.

“Blood Art: Soul Search,” Sha murmured.

Buzz!

Tang Ru convulsed and went rigid, his head snapping back. His bloodless face trembled uncontrollably.

Far away in the Daochan Territory, Tang Wei’s expression changed sharply. He took out a soul lamp and saw its flame trembling violently. It flickered erratically, as though it might go out at any moment.

Once the soul search ended, Tang Ru went limp, drenched in sweat. Half his face sank into the black water below.

Beneath his mask, Sha frowned. “He really doesn’t know? Perhaps only Ye Feng, the one who has followed him the longest, might know...”

His voice carried a hint of helplessness. “Tsk. He’s hiding in the Daxia Sword Sect, and Ye Xuan is there to protect him, which makes things troublesome. In that case, I’ll simply have to force him out. I wonder who went to the Qilian Mountains. Xiang Huaizhi? The Qingshan Swordsman, Nangong Xuandu? Or Meng Jiangchu himself? Heh. Interesting...”

His muttering gradually faded into the distance. The black water churned, then climbed Tang Ru’s body like grasping tentacles.

The pain dragged Tang Ru out of unconsciousness.

“Aaargh! Kill me! Fuck you!”

Tang Ru barely had the strength left to shout. The exposed bones of his limbs had been corroded until they were riddled with holes, leaving him in unbearable agony.

From the moment he was captured, he had never intended to survive. He had spent every waking moment longing for death. Only his death could ensure that Li Guanqi would not walk into the enemy’s lair because of him.

Yet, even death remained beyond his reach. He did not dare to imagine what this would do to his father. Perhaps his two older brothers were even hoping he would die sooner.

His sight was gone. Tang Ru’s world had been swallowed by darkness.

So this... is what being blind feels like... It really is... frightening...

As his thoughts wandered, the faces of Li Guanqi, Ye Feng, and the others flashed through his mind. For some reason, he felt certain Li Guanqi would come.

The candle went out, leaving only Tang Ru’s faint, hoarse cries in the frigid dungeon.

Boom!

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the blood-soaked Qilian Mountains.

The earth trembled. Two red-robed figures wearing matching yin-yang masks snapped their heads up. Crimson flames burned an enormous hole through the barrier sealing the domain.

A man in fiery red robes strode through the air upon a path of flames, his expression cold and furious.

Xiang Huaizhi raised a hand, and the vast barrier of demonic qi instantly vanished. In its place rose a curtain of fire spanning hundreds of li.

Boom!

Violent pressure swept across heaven and earth. The Abyssal Demons fighting the cultivators exploded one after another, flames erupting from inside them.

Screech!

Their piercing shrieks resounded through the sky. Many cultivators clutched their ears in agony and collapsed.

Xiang Huaizhi’s eyes narrowed, cold with killing intent. He cocked his head at the two masked figures and sneered. “You think trash like you is worthy of stopping me? Tell Sha to get the hell out here!”

The black-masked man replied in a shrill, effeminate voice. With a delicate gesture, he formed a hand seal, and a pink short blade appeared in his palm. “You want our leader to come out? Heh. You’re not worthy.”

Boom!

The instant he finished speaking, the void in the distance shattered. He raised an arm to block, but it shattered on impact. The black-masked man was sent hurtling backward in a streak of light.

With a deafening crash, he struck the ground and left a crater hundreds of zhang wide.

Xiang Huaizhi stood where the black-masked man had been and reached for the white-masked figure. “What a bunch of trash. How dare such worthless nobodies speak to me like that?”