Chapter Twenty-Seven: Young Bai Mu Framed

“Is that really important?” Bai Mu retorted impatiently, his gaze filled with contempt as he looked at Xuan Yuan. Truth be told, Bai Mu had no concept of these sects and factions; in his worldview, there was no such thing as a sect—only the master who loved him deeply, the ancient deity Bai Ze.

If one insisted on tracing his origins, then Dongwang Mountain would be his sect, and Bai Ze—or rather, the ancestor god who split heaven and earth—would be his grandmaster. After all, Bai Ze had emerged from the summit of Kunlun, carrying the “Bai Ze Bestiary,” and Bai Mu’s master was the primordial god of the wilderness. Yet Bai Mu would never divulge this lightly.

Of course it’s important!

Xuan Yuan Sword Immortal responded earnestly, “I noticed your sword strike was extraordinary just now. The sword energy carried a hint of ancient power, and there seemed to be a thread of righteous energy emanating from the blade. Could it be that your sword is an ancient divine artifact?”

At this, Ling Yan could barely suppress her laughter. This red-robed middle-aged man called himself a sword immortal, yet he failed to recognize the ancestral sword sect—the Azure Dragon. Truly blind and foolish, no wonder he had falsely accused them of arson and murder.

“This sword has nothing to do with you, and I am under no obligation to answer. If you have nothing else to say, we will take our leave. The mountains remain green, the rivers flow on, and we shall meet no more!”

With that, Bai Mu made a polite gesture toward the flustered Xuan Yuan Sword Immortal, then pulled Ling Yan along, preparing to depart.

“Stop right there!” Xuan Yuan called out angrily, “You think you can leave before explaining yourselves?”

“What do you want, then?” Ling Yan’s elegant brows furrowed, her anger beginning to stir. Not even the greatest ancient gods of the divine clan dared to command her so imperiously, let alone this minor sword immortal of the wilderness.

Were it not for the need to keep a low profile while searching for the Demon Transformation Bottle, Ling Yan would have already taught this sword immortal a harsh lesson. She cared nothing for the Gray Crane Ancestor or the fierce Bi Fang Bird; this sword immortal, weak in cultivation, could not hope to hinder her.

“What exactly do you want?” Bai Mu gritted his teeth, his face full of rage.

“It’s simple. You two come with me to the Temple of the Abyss and confront the Four Holy Masters directly. If you are truly innocent, they will surely clear your names!”

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Ling Yan spat in disdain, her voice proud and challenging: “Those so-called Four Holy Masters—what right do they have to judge us?”

“But rest assured, we will go to the Temple of the Abyss, just not with you. You are unworthy!”

“Little girl!” The red-robed man’s eyes bulged with fury. “Don’t be so insolent. Don’t think that forcing me back with a single sword strike means you can get away scot-free. If it comes to a real fight, you two together may not be my match!”

“Fine, then what’s the point of all this talking? Why not fight now and settle it?” Bai Mu, with a look that seemed to relish chaos, issued the challenge.

It wasn’t that Bai Mu was eager for battle, but Xuan Yuan was pressing too hard. If they didn’t put him in his place today, he would surely continue to harass them in the future.

Moreover, Master Bai Ze had emphasized time and again that in this wilderness realm, strength ruled. Many matters could only be resolved by the sword in hand.

Only by making your opponent fear you—by grinding his pride into the mud—might he finally listen to your defense. Otherwise, when both sides are evenly matched, even if you shout yourself hoarse, he will treat your words as nonsense.

“No more pointless talk. Let’s fight. Fight until you’re searching the ground for your teeth!”

“Very well.” Xuan Yuan forced a bitter smile, furious. “It seems you two won’t relent unless we settle this by force!”

He then glanced over his shoulder at his trembling disciple, Shen Tu De, and gently advised, “Go hide in the peach grove behind us, lest you get hurt by stray blades.”

“No!” Shen Tu De quickly straightened his face and protested, “Master, these two possess extraordinary cultivation. When you fought Bai Mu just now, it seemed you didn’t have the upper hand. I think we should hurry to the Temple of the Abyss and gather experts before dealing with them!”

“So the sword immortal way is to seek help when outmatched?”

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Ling Yan sneered as she spoke, her eyes flashing as she scolded Shen Tu De, “How do you know his name is Bai Mu? Who told you?”

“It… it was Xiu Ji!” Shen Tu De stammered, flustered by her questioning, then quickly darted behind Xuan Yuan Sword Immortal for protection.

Bai Mu laughed heartily at his sorry state. “So you don’t actually know me—just hearsay. I suppose your claim to have fought me at the market was just a fabrication?”

He leveled his sword and questioned Xuan Yuan loudly, “Sword Immortal, you are of considerable years—can you not tell right from wrong?”

“If I were truly the murderer who razed the town, why would I remain here after the crime, waiting for capture, instead of fleeing?”

“If you don’t believe our defense, then let’s fight. If you lose and tarnish the sword immortal’s reputation, don’t blame us juniors for disrespect.”

Bai Mu’s words were reasonable, even clever—defending his innocence in the first part, then laying out the stakes of their duel in the second.

Yet such words, devoid of malice, sounded entirely different to the stubborn sword immortal. First, he felt Bai Mu had insulted his intelligence, suggesting he couldn’t distinguish right from wrong. Second, he believed his abilities were being underestimated by this young man.

Xuan Yuan Sword Immortal might not be the foremost cultivator of the wilderness realm, but he was the Sword Elder of the Xuan Yuan Sword Sect. In swordsmanship, he was on par with the Four Holy Masters of the Temple of the Abyss!

Yet here he was, a renowned figure, repeatedly mocked and insulted by this unknown youth—a truly unforgivable matter.

So, after calming himself inwardly, Xuan Yuan unexpectedly smiled, then swiftly brought his sword before his chest, his left hand forming an ancient sword seal. His robes fluttered without wind, stirred by sword energy, clearly preparing for a formidable attack.