Where Immortals Once Walked

Chapter 75: The Black Flood Dragon’s Lifeline

There’s nobody but that brat who would or could have gone here and taken the treasured saber before me!

I can’t believe we just treated him like some idle wastrel all this time. We must have been blind.

Sun Fuping’s gaze swept across the ruins. With such a vast area, how would he even begin to find someone? Still, he firmly believed that He Lingchuan could not have gone far.

* * *

He Lingchuan was dashing through the ruins, passing by the government office. A tall corner tower still stood here, largely untouched by the flames of war.

Cradled in his arms was the treasured saber with a hilt that looked like a flood dragon swallowing a ring.

Indeed, just a short while earlier, he had quietly slipped down the side of the city wall, detouring around the battlefield to return to the official residences for one purpose: to retrieve the treasured saber that once hung above Zhong Shengguang’s bed.

In that era, weapons were often forged with hilts and guards shaped like mythical beasts, most commonly the Yazi, a creature with a wolf’s body and a dragon’s head. A smaller portion featured other fearsome beasts.

The saber above Zhong Shengguang’s bed had a guard carved in the shape of a flood dragon’s head, bent at a right angle. He Lingchuan had been here twice before but had not given the saber a second thought. His attention had always gone to the other furnishings, especially the comb on the dressing table.

However, it was now clear that the black flood dragon had first emerged from the destruction of this residence. That alone suggested a special connection to the Zhong Residence. Additionally, the black flood dragon’s large, straight horn—branchless and pointed—bore an uncanny resemblance to the horned carving on the saber’s guard. In fact, they were virtually identical.

He Lingchuan could not help but admire his own incredible memory.

When he returned to the ruined official residence and saw the saber still hanging intact on a crumbling half-wall—unstained and unscorched—it only confirmed his suspicions.

There was clearly something special about the saber.

It belonged to the peaceful era of the official residence, when Zhong Shengguang still lived there.

It did not belong in this postwar ruin when Zhong Shengguang had already moved into his grand estate by the time of the city’s fall. The saber’s presence here now was out of place.

Moreover, it gleamed like new, untouched by the flames of war. This proved that in the true flow of history, the weapon had not even been hanging on that wall.

Although He Lingchuan had not heard Nian Songyu mention anything about the black flood dragon’s lifeline, he had an instinctive sense that the saber held unique value to the monster.

With the saber in hand, he would have another safeguard when facing the black flood dragon.

He brought out his new prize for a look. Its blade was as bright as autumn water, and the moment it left its scabbard, a wave of chill spread outward, and the surrounding air dropped in temperature by at least two degrees. The curvature was elegant, its weight balanced. Most importantly, the grip felt perfect, and it felt like an extension of his own arm. There was not even a hint of unfamiliarity as he held it; he felt as if he had simply reunited with an old friend.

With a casual swing, he cleaved a nearby pillar that was thicker than his head in perfect silence.

The saber was truly beautiful. It was thus a pity that a fine crack marred the blade, stretching from the spine toward the edge and hidden two-thirds down its length.

He Lingchuan also caught a powerful scent of blood and battle clinging to it. The saber and its scabbard were spotless and without a trace of blood, yet the air around it all but screamed of slaughter.

Just how many necks has this blade drunk blood from?

He flicked the saber thoughtfully. I wonder if I’ll be able to bring it with me out of this illusion.

After a beat of hesitation, he shamelessly strapped it to his waist.

At such a time, he could not afford to dawdle; he had to move. Overhead, the number of bird monsters was growing, their eyes fixed on him, looking like they were considering whether or not to descend and snatch the weapon from him.

However, He Lingchuan soon realized that they were the lesser threat. A much greater danger had just emerged from a dark alley, blocking his path.

It was Sun Fuping.

He Lingchuan skidded to a stop, startled, then forced a laugh. “Oh, State Preceptor Sun! What a coincidence!”

Now what? Where do I even run to?

His mind raced for options.

Sun Fuping’s gaze was strange. It carried hints of exhilaration, but it also appeared to be tinged with venom. He extended his hand toward He Lingchuan and said, “The saber. Hand it over.”

Once he discovered that the treasured saber weapon had gone missing, he launched into a relentless search. And since it was now with He Lingchuan, there was no way he would disappear into the ruins like last time—that would defeat the whole point of taking the saber.

As Sun Fuping had expected, He Lingchuan had tried to return to the southern gate with this precious leverage. All he had to do was intercept him.

The official residences and government office were both by the riverside, thus He Lingchuan’s paths were limited. At this moment, he was cornered.

He Lingchuan’s hand casually dropped to the hilt at his waist, blocking the saber ring[1] from view. He feigned confusion. “Saber? What saber? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, State Preceptor.”

Sun Fuping let out a low chuckle and did not bother wasting any more breath. With a flick of his hand, he tossed out a coiled silk rope.

This was no ordinary rope. Usually, this rope appeared as nothing more than a simple red string wrapped around his wrist, but once thrown, it would stretch with the wind, automatically pursue its target, and spread out like a fishing net to ensnare them. Provided that its user kept a firm grip, not even an elephant would be able to break free from its hold.

The net could also be fitted with barbed hooks along its weave, dealing damage while preventing escape.

He Lingchuan had barely taken a few strides when the net came crashing down from above, enveloping him completely. Sun Fuping gave a sharp yank, and the net’s barbed hooks flared open. If He Lingchuan had not thrown his arms up just in time to shield his face, he might have lost both his eyes right then and there.

Even so, the exposed skin on his arms and neck was torn into bloody welts. Some of the barbs dug deep enough to rip flesh loose, drawing a hiss of pain through gritted teeth.

Then, with a twist of his wrist, Sun Fuping sent three streaks of true fire racing down the rope’s mainline. They sped across as though directly def by oil, and in a flash, the entire net was engulfed in blazing flames.

The flames were not just hot, they were searing white-gold with an eerie pale hue, indicating temperatures high enough to melt bone in moments.

Sun Fuping had already shed all pretense during this trip to the Panlong Desert. He no longer needed He Lingchuan alive as a sacrifice. Hence, his killing intent surged forth without restraint.

But then He Lingchuan let out a sharp “Ow!” It was a pained yelp from the barbs. Somehow, he remained unharmed by the flames.

At the same time, a brilliant blue ring of light erupted from his body.

Sun Fuping’s eyes narrowed at once.

This brat actually has a fire-resisting magical artifact on him, and it activates automatically upon contact with extreme temperatures. Hm, but my true fire should be able to reduce most protective gear to slag. The fact that He Lingchuan hasn’t even had a strand of hair singed means that his artifact is far from ordinary.

In the chaos, He Lingchuan glanced down and saw the radiant glow coming from none other than his divine bone amulet.

It was finally proving itself useful. Without it, he would have almost certainly been reduced to charred remains in a few seconds.

Sun Fuping now drew his sword with his own hands, its blade hissing as it left the scabbard. He stepped forward, ready to end this with a single strike.

But just then, the sky darkened—

A massive bird monster dove from above, talons outstretched, aiming straight for his face.

This monster was no easy foe. Its claws were sharp enough to disembowel a man in one swipe. And despite its wrinkled, sagging hide, the beast’s skin was astoundingly tough, too tough for even a dagger to cut through cleanly.

Sun Fuping was forced to fall back and defend, but he did not forget to fling two concealed darts at He Lingchuan before doing so.

He Lingchuan yelped again, not noticing that several squirming black worms had slipped out of the darts. They had sucker-like heads and fat, worm-like bodies—leeches, essentially—and immediately wriggled toward the open wounds on his skin.

These were spoils from a southern campaign years ago, when Sun Fuping had killed a gu master during the suppression of a rebellion. That gu master’s signature weapon was the so-called Flying Head Gu, a cursed parasite said to kill from a hundred paces, invisible and undetectable.

In truth, the killing method relied on these very gu worms, which burrowed into the body to chew through the heart and brain, draining the essence of their victim.

Sun Fuping had always despised the methods of gu masters, but he was deeply intrigued by the effects of various gu.

After feeding on the blood essence of a human or monster, these gu would curl into a ball and begin a two-month digestion cycle, during which they would refine what they had consumed. After three to four cycles, they would no longer absorb more blood essence, at which point they themselves became highly potent tonics for replenishing blood and qi; they were nearly unrivaled by any known medicine.

1. This should be the same as or similar to a sword ring or a pommel ring. Here’s the raw word for image searches: 刀环 ☜