Chapter Thirty: The Mysterious Visitor in the Peach Grove of a Hundred Miles

Heh heh...

Xuan Yuan, the Sword Immortal, gave a sly chuckle and teased, "Though my ranking is not especially high across the entire Wild Realm, I am at least among the top three hundred on the Immortal Spirits List, and more than qualified to be called a master in my own right."

"Yet today, after encountering this young lady, I was beaten so thoroughly that I had not a shred of strength to fight back. Truly, it is shameful!"

"Senior Xuan Yuan!"

Ling Yan, hearing this, straightened her expression and earnestly consoled him, "There is no injustice in your defeat. Though I cannot yet reveal our identities, I can assure you with absolute certainty: neither of us are ordinary folk!"

She then glanced at Bai Mu, and, under the watchful gaze of Xuan Yuan and his disciple, the two departed side by side from the peach grove, sprinting wildly toward Floating Jade Mountain.

Once their figures had vanished completely, Xuan Yuan, clad in crimson robes, suddenly let out a muffled cry of pain. His legs buckled, and his entire body collapsed helplessly to the ground.

Blood gushed rapidly from the wound on his arm, streaming onto the earth like a rivulet and staining the dust a glaring crimson. The agony twisted his face, rendering it pale and contorted, a stark contrast to the composure he had shown moments before.

"Master, what happened?" Shen Tu De hurried forward, supporting his master and asking in a voice filled with fear.

"I was wounded by the sword energy of that little demoness," Xuan Yuan replied, tearing a large strip of cloth from his robe and weakly tossing it to Shen Tu De. "I forced my power to seal the wound earlier, so it didn’t burst open right away. Now that my focus is broken, the blood pours forth unchecked."

He instructed urgently, "Quick, help me bind it. If the blood drains away, my life may hang in the balance!"

"Yes, Master!" Shen Tu De grabbed the crimson cloth and fumbled to wrap the wound, his concern evident as he asked, "Master, did you let those two go because you were seriously injured?"

"Of course!"

Xuan Yuan’s face darkened at once, his voice angry. "How could I believe their words so easily? Besides, the fourth-generation disciple of the Void Sanctuary would never lie, nor would he joke with his senior brother’s life. I would never trust the demoness’s claims!"

"That’s a relief!"

Shen Tu De patted his chest, sighing with lingering anxiety. "Master’s attitude changed so suddenly, and you treated them so courteously—I thought you really believed their story. I was conflicted for a long time!"

"Impossible!"

Xuan Yuan shook his head in pain, his copper-bell eyes glaring at the wound on his arm. He gritted his teeth: "I, Xuan Yuan the Sword Immortal, have fought countless battles and roamed the Wild Realm, rarely meeting an equal. To be shamed by a mere slip of a girl—if I cannot avenge this, I am no man..."

"Clap... clap, clap."

Before Xuan Yuan could finish, the sound of crisp applause echoed through the peach grove.

Who?

"Who’s lurking in the grove, playing tricks?" Shen Tu De stared in terror at the falling blossoms, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

He wondered anxiously, "For someone to enter the grove without alerting me, their cultivation must surpass mine. Even my master, a Sword Immortal, sensed nothing—this one’s power surely matches his."

After the shout, silence returned to the grove. Had they not both heard the applause, they might have doubted their own senses.

"Help me up."

Xuan Yuan weakly commanded, struggling to rise. The young disciple hurried to assist his master, his hands trembling as he asked, "Master, who clapped just now?"

"Unknown."

Xuan Yuan’s eagle eyes pierced the peach grove, as if he could see through the thicket. Though his blood loss had left him pale, he betrayed little fear—proof that age and experience had their merits. Even wounded, the Sword Immortal retained some measure of composure.

After a brief silence, seeing no movement within the densely branched wood, Xuan Yuan summoned the last of his spiritual energy and called out, "Friend in the grove, if you respect Xuan Yuan, come forth and show yourself. Why hide like a coward?"

Heh heh.

A strange laugh suddenly echoed from the woods, followed by a youthful male voice.

"Who would have thought that the dignified Sword Immortal Xuan Yuan would be reduced to such a pitiful state—how laughable!"

"Who are you, and why do you speak so arrogantly?" Xuan Yuan tried to appear calm as he shouted toward the grove, but his voice lacked its former vigor, and his confidence began to waver.

From the moment this mysterious stranger appeared, he sensed the other’s cultivation might equal his own.

The sharp, clear voice only heightened Xuan Yuan’s unease.

Had this been another time, even if outmatched in power, he might have found an opportunity to flee.

But now, wounded as he was and with his troublesome disciple in tow, if this visitor came with ill intent, their chances of escape were slim.

Thinking quickly, Xuan Yuan gestured for his disciple to leave first.

But before the disciple could respond, the mysterious figure in the grove spoke again.

"Xuan Yuan, don’t waste your effort. Since I dared to come looking for trouble, I’ve planned thoroughly. Trying to send your disciple away is futile!"

As his words faded, a sudden gale swept through the peach grove, carrying the fragrance of blossoms and earth with astonishing speed, nearly toppling the already weakened Xuan Yuan.

Fortunately, his disciple jammed his heavy sword into the ground just in time, barely steadying them both.

Even so, their clothes and hair were plastered with leaves and mud, and even their mouths were filled with grit.

"Curse it!"

Barely managing to steady himself, the proud Xuan Yuan cursed angrily, then slid three feet forward and, with all his remaining strength, snatched up the heavy sword that Ling Yan had knocked to the ground earlier.