Spirit Ruin, Sword Coffin, Blind Swordsman

Buzz!

Above a lush mountain range, spatial fluctuations erupted with sudden violence.

Roar!

The waves stirred unrest among the great beasts in the mountains, drawing out their howls. Some of the lower-ranked beasts cried out in fear, and the once-quiet peaks filled with a cacophony of roars. The cultivators hunting monsters in the area fled for cover, while flocks of flying beasts screeched and scattered across the sky.

The disturbance drew in every cultivator within a hundred li. The clear sky shimmered with a golden halo, then a spatial rift more than thirty zhang wide tore open.

Countless cultivators flew up, thinking some ancient ruin had surfaced. But to their disappointment, three figures slowly emerged from the rift.

Tu Yongsi stood behind Song Yunshu with his sleeves folded, snorting coldly as he watched the approaching cultivators.

Boom!

A terrifying pressure erupted. Every cultivator flying within ten li fell from the sky, dropping like flies and scattering across the ground.

Li Guanqi took a deep breath, inhaling the faint wisps of mist. It had just rained, and the mountain carried a faint earthy scent. He opened his eyes, and a sharp gleam flashed through them. “The spirit qi here is so dense!”

Song Yunshu came to his side with a smile. “The Daochan Territory has the highest concentration of spirit qi among the Six Territories.”

Meanwhile, the cultivators pinned to the ground were shaken to their core. Outsiders!

The Daochan Territory’s remoteness made it a rare sacred place for cultivation, and its people were fiercely exclusionary. Cultivators from other territories were unwelcome, seen as opportunists hungry for enlightenment or greedy for the dense spirit qi. Anyone from beyond the Daochan Territory’s borders knew better than to reveal where they came from.

Song Yunshu smiled. “Let’s go. We won’t waste time here.”

The three of them vanished from sight.

***

As soon as they left, word of their arrival reached a secluded, scenic estate. In the courtyard, an old man in a dark-gold robe reclined in his chair, brow furrowed. He slowly opened his eyes.

His silver hair was meticulously groomed. He had a bulbous nose, triangular eyes full of intelligence, gaunt cheeks, and thin lips. Every feature exuded authority.

In a calm, low voice, he murmured, “I knew that girl was trouble. But why bring him here? Tu Yongsi… all these years guarding Song Yunshu from the shadows, and now you step into the open?”

He idly toyed with a small purple clay teacup and took a sip of spirit tea. His eyes narrowed, a faint haze settling over them as he sank into thought.

Knock, knock, knock!

A middle-aged man with a cold expression bent slightly outside the door. He whispered, “Father, Yuan Hao has arrived.”

The old man frowned sharply. “Tell him to go back and inform Yuan Hongyi not to contact me until further notice. Foolish brat!”

Jiang Han’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat at the venom in his father’s voice. He bowed quickly and retreated. “Understood.”

He left the courtyard with a stony expression, returning to his own residence. The moment he stepped inside, a slightly plump middle-aged man rose from his seat with a warm smile.

“Brother Jiang, what did your old man say?”

Jiang Han said nothing. His expression darkened as he took the main seat, lifted his tea, and drank in silence.

Yuan Hao’s face twitched involuntarily. The meaning was clear: the tea was a dismissal, not an invitation. “Hahaha, Jiang Han! Surely there’s something you should say?”

Jiang Han set down his cup and met Yuan Hao’s eyes. “Go back and tell your master not to contact us for the time being.”

He paused slightly, staring directly at Yuan Hao. “Those are my father’s own words.”

Yuan Hao’s small eyes widened, but he steadied himself. “Understood.”

He turned and disappeared from sight.

Jiang Han set down his tea and stared toward the doorway, lost in thought.

***

Meanwhile, in a lavish palace floating in the void, decadence ran unchecked.

A dozen or so powerful young cultivators had drunk themselves senseless, limbs tangled in heaps. Music drifted through the hall as dancers performed one after another without pause. None of them had any idea what was unfolding beyond their walls.

***

In a remote mountain range stretching thousands of li, three figures appeared. Song Yunshu looked at the empty valley before her and took a deep breath. “Li Guanqi, wait a moment. I have something to give you.”

Li Guanqi watched in shock as she formed hand seals and a strange pattern surfaced on her forehead. As the pattern solidified, a faint glow shimmered around it. A streak of purple-gold light rose into the air and transformed into a heavenly intelligence jade pendant, flying directly toward him. But the instant it materialized, a cold sword light shot toward Song Yunshu. It was incredibly fast and overwhelmingly powerful.

Li Guanqi snatched the purple-gold jade pendant out of the air. The sword coffin appeared behind him. The Red Lotus Sword flashed into his grip, and he swung it in a vicious arc toward the space beside Song Yunshu.

The heavens and earth darkened. Countless bolts of lightning crashed down, and a towering lightning phantom, dozens of zhang high, materialized in midair.

Li Guanqi’s blood roared as he glared at the attacker and shouted, “Heaven-Opening Tier: Thunder Wrath!”

Tu Yongsi was only a fraction slower. He drew a silver-white longsword and slashed murderously.

Boom!

The two attacks forced the assailant back. Sword qi tore through the surroundings, shattering the void.

Pfft!

A severed arm vanished within the lightning. Tu Yongsi’s blade grazed the black-clothed assailant at the waist, nearly slicing him in two.

Seeing his attack fail, the assassin transformed into a shadow and vanished. A burst of blood mist erupted in his wake, streaking away at blinding speed.

Li Guanqi sheathed the Red Lotus Sword and stood with narrowed eyes, scanning the surroundings. His divine consciousness found nothing.

He turned to Song Yunshu. She was still shaking, a shallow line of blood on her neck. The assassin’s aura had paralyzed her, and she had been convinced she was going to die. Without Li Guanqi, she probably would have.

Li Guanqi returned the Red Lotus Sword to the sword coffin and looked down at the jade pendant with a frown. “What is this thing? Why did someone try to steal it the moment we stepped out?”

Song Yunshu’s face was ashen, her lips trembling too badly to form words. It was Tu Yongsi who answered, his voice low and grave. “This… represents the authority of the Heavenly Intelligence Pavilion’s owner. The pavilion recognizes no master—only the jade pendant.”