Chapter Twenty-Six: A Minor Punishment, A Major Warning—The Sword Immortal's Humbling

That oppressive force of spirit, to the likes of Bai Mu and Ling Yan, both children of the gods, was little more than an ant scratching an itch—hardly worth mentioning. Without the slightest pause or hesitation, Ling Yan kept her composure, face cold but voice unwavering. “Indeed, it was Xiu Ji and Wushang of the Temple of the Abyss. If you’re interested, you can pursue them northwest right now…”

“Silence!”

Before Ling Yan could finish her sentence, the other party had already interrupted with an angry shout. His eyes flashed icy light, and with a speed too swift to follow, his left hand drew the massive sword from his back, a cold sneer curling his lips. “You’re telling me to chase those two disciples from the Temple of the Abyss? How is that any different from telling me to die?”

“I truly don’t understand what you mean by that!” Ling Yan retorted, her brows furrowing in annoyance. Inwardly, she was muttering to herself—who on earth was this man? His words were contradictory, and he twisted others’ meanings at a whim. He was truly baffling.

“Hmph!” The red-robed middle-aged man snorted, his expression frostbitten. “Don’t pretend to be confused. Wushang of the Temple of the Abyss was ambushed and killed on the road, and Xiu Ji was gravely wounded. If my disciple and I hadn’t happened to pass by this morning, he likely would have died from his injuries!”

At these words, both Ling Yan and Bai Mu involuntarily shuddered. A sense of foreboding crept into their hearts, as if they were tumbling into a vast and terrifying conspiracy—one whose spark was surely that white-clad man from yesterday, Feng Zijin.

Had he not appeared on the main road last night and lured them back, they would have been two hundred miles from Dayong Market by now, not wandering this forest and suffering accusations and wrath.

Surprise aside, the issue had to be faced, and misunderstandings must be explained. Otherwise, once the crime was pinned on them, hundreds of disciples from the Temple of the Abyss would hunt them relentlessly. In that case, let alone seeking Fanxian for sword training and healing, they would likely be besieged by so-called righteous sects long before reaching Mount Fuyu.

Steadying himself, Bai Mu forced a calm cough and refuted with unruffled composure, “Senior, I don’t know why you view us with such bias, but I swear on my honor these misfortunes have nothing to do with us.”

“Is that so?” The younger man in red took the chance to fan the flames. “Bai Mu, you needn’t bother with more excuses. My name may carry little weight—Shentu De’s words might not be believed by all…”

“But even Xiu Ji from the Temple of the Abyss claims you killed his senior brother. Could he really mistake his own brother’s murderer?”

“And at this point, you still want to clear your name? Are you saying both of us are senile and can’t recognize faces?”

“Indeed!” Ling Yan, now furious, laughed coldly, “I think not only are your eyes clouded with age, but your heart is blind as well. The real killer is at large, yet you come to trouble two young novices. Is that not utterly shameful?”

“Enough nonsense!” the red-robed man snapped impatiently. “Today, no matter how silver-tongued you are, you won’t escape from the hands of the Sword Immortal of Xuanyuan!”

Ling Yan arched a delicate brow, scoffing, “When did I ever say I would run? If anyone’s fleeing, it’ll be you, so-called Sword Immortal!”

“Insolence!” The Sword Immortal of Xuanyuan roared, swinging his ancient, massive sword through the air. Under the sunlight, the blade’s shadow gleamed with an icy, peculiar brilliance. Several sharp streams of sword energy burst violently from the sword, transforming into translucent blades that slashed down at Ling Yan.

Ling Yan only smiled nonchalantly. Her left hand swept through the air, and amidst a swirl of green light, the Jade Cold Xiao materialized, radiating an intense chill that spread instantly like a winter wind. Even Bai Mu, standing beside her, shivered involuntarily.

With a flash of the xiao in her hand, Ling Yan was about to step forward to meet her opponent.

“I’ll handle this,” Bai Mu reminded her at just the right moment. His Azure Dragon Sword sprang from its sheath like a startled swan. Responding to the chill of Ling Yan’s Jade Cold Xiao, the sword released several streams of sword energy, swiftly intercepting the attack from the Sword Immortal of Xuanyuan.

The two waves of sword energy clashed fiercely at the center of the clearing, their killing intent so intense that the surrounding grass and flowers withered instantly. Even the peach blossoms in the forest scattered like falling snow. The power of Xuanyuan was evident—he was indeed worthy of the title Sword Immortal, surpassing even Meng Mo.

Yet, for all that, he was still an ordinary Sword Immortal. Against Bai Mu—a child of the gods—he was hopelessly outmatched. Especially with the ancient divine weapon Azure Dragon in Bai Mu’s hand, while it might not shatter the heavens, it was more than enough to dispatch second-rate cultivators of the Wildlands with ease.

After less than three seconds of struggle, Xuanyuan’s sword energy was gradually devoured by the Azure Dragon Sword until it vanished completely.

Yet the Azure Dragon’s energy did not dissipate. It transformed into a five-clawed dragon that surged toward Xuanyuan with unstoppable force, as if determined to cut him down in the midst of peach blossoms.

“Boy, how dare you!” Xuanyuan shouted, his left hand shooting out to seize his disciple, retreating three spans back in a flash. Meanwhile, his ancient sword unleashed twelve swift strikes.

Those twelve blows came at astonishing speed—the entire sequence took no more than three seconds, meaning four strikes per second. With each, the sword energy intensified.

But these strikes were not for offense, but to block the oncoming Azure Dragon Sword’s energy. Only after all twelve were delivered did the surging powers finally enclose the dragon’s onslaught. The two forces tangled in midair for a moment, then suddenly shuddered and dissipated, invisible to even the keenest eye.

Xuanyuan stood at a distance, exhaling sharply, relieved that disaster had been averted.

This fierce encounter could only be called Bai Mu’s victory. At least, from the scene, he clearly held the upper hand!

Though Xuanyuan’s title—Sword Immortal—sounded impressive, Bai Mu had never even heard of him. Yet judging by the name and his bearing, he was surely a master of some renown.

Still, who would have thought such a formidable figure could be forced to retreat three spans by Bai Mu’s effortless strike? Though the scene was not entirely humiliating, he had undeniably lost the contest.

Once master and disciple had steadied themselves and saw that Bai Mu made no move to press his advantage, the Sword Immortal of Xuanyuan could not help but ask in astonishment, “Which sect do you hail from, young man? How have you attained such skill at so young an age?”