Chapter Thirty-One: Searching Heaven and Earth, Even to the Depths of the Underworld

With the acquisition of his personal weapon, he felt his confidence swell within him. He brought the massive sword across his chest at an angle, his right hand forming a sword seal, and with lightning speed, he swung the blade forward.

A violent energy surged madly from the sword, tinged with a chilling aura that coalesced into the form of a dragon. Claws bared and fangs gnashing, the beast hurtled toward the peach grove, clearly intent on subduing the mysterious figure within by brute force.

Upon closer inspection, the dragon’s body was stained crimson with fresh blood, and broad wounds gaped between its four claws—proof that it was the very wicked beast felled earlier by Ling Yan’s Jade Cold Flute and its Shadow Array. Unexpectedly, after only a brief rest, it had regained its strength; judging by the force and speed of its attack, it seemed even fiercer than when it had assaulted Ling Yan.

Perhaps it had suffered too many indignities at Ling Yan’s hands, and, with no outlet for its rage, now charged headlong at the stranger in the grove, treating him as a target for its wrath.

As the beast reached the edge of the peach grove, it unleashed a torrent of flame from its jaws, intent on incinerating the trees in a devastating blaze. If nothing intervened, the entire grove would soon be engulfed in fire, sinking into oblivion alongside Dayong Market in the vast tides of history.

“Begone!”

The mysterious figure within the grove seemed utterly unperturbed by the imminent danger and paid no heed to the dragon’s fiery breath. Hidden deep among the trees, he spoke a single word with casual disdain. Immediately, a fierce gale arose from the ground, sweeping toward the flames.

Bang—

Whoosh—

As the opposing forces collided, several sharp sounds rang out. The dragon’s fire, buffeted by the wild wind, scattered uncontrollably in all directions. A great surge of flame was even blown backwards, striking the beast’s mouth and burning its already wounded body to a charred ruin.

Roar—

With a powerful cry, the beast’s body slackened, dropping from the air and reverting to the form of the colossal sword. Now, the blade glowed red-hot, heat shimmering visibly from its surface, as if it had just been forged in a smith’s furnace.

Having suffered two humiliating defeats in a single day, only this wicked dragon could truly know such frustration.

The scattered flames fell upon the earth, scorching the sand and dust to a blackened crisp. Some, fluttering like fiery butterflies, darted toward Xuanyuan and his young apprentice.

The apprentice, already stunned by the sudden chaos, stood petrified behind his master, trembling and clueless as to how to evade the flames. Gone was the boldness and authority he had displayed toward Bai Mu earlier.

Of course, his cultivation was modest, and he could never match Bai Mu or Ling Yan in agility. Had they faced this danger, they would not have fallen into such disarray.

Fortunately, Xuanyuan was still a sword immortal. Though his cultivation paled in comparison to Ling Yan and Bai Mu, a century of practice had endowed him with considerable skill and adaptability. Despite his injuries, as the flames approached, he managed to stretch out his sturdy arm and, with a measured blow, sent his apprentice flying to safety, expertly sparing him from harm.

But after this effort, Xuanyuan’s own strength flagged, his wounded body nearly spent. As the flames were about to touch him, he summoned the last vestige of his true spirit, soaring leftward like a wounded crane. The movement was swift as lightning, yet even so, his left leg was struck by the roaring fire. His red robe burned through, the scent of roasted flesh drifting from his thigh.

Boom—

The sound of his body crashing to the ground echoed from the edge of the peach grove, raising a cloud of dust.

Xuanyuan now looked nothing like an immortal swordsman. His once pristine scarlet robe was torn in many places, battered and threadbare. The wound on his right arm, inflicted earlier by Ling Yan’s flute-shadow sword energy, had reopened, blood streaming freely. Most critical was his left leg, which, struck by the fire and landing first, suffered not just burns but a snapped bone with a crisp crack.

“Master!”

The apprentice scrambled to his feet, tears and snot streaming, and rushed toward Xuanyuan.

“Stay back!”

Xuanyuan shouted urgently, “Stay back, run!”

His voice was still strong, but lacked the vigor it had possessed moments before, and the sweat-smeared dirt on his face lent him an almost comical appearance.

“No!”

The apprentice shook his head stubbornly. “Master, we leave together—or die together!”

With those words, he staggered toward Xuanyuan with reckless determination, his resolute face betraying a readiness to sacrifice himself. Clearly, the bond between master and disciple was deep; otherwise, such resolve would have been impossible.

Xuanyuan, weakened by his injuries and blood loss, felt his consciousness begin to fade. Seeing his apprentice’s unyielding devotion, he could not help but curse in desperation: “You fool, get out of here! Do you want to die with your master?”

Heh heh heh.

The mysterious figure within the peach grove spoke again: “What a touching display of loyalty—almost moved me to tears. But since you two dared offend me, you’ll both be sent to the netherworld together in the next moment!”

Xuanyuan, frantic and feverish, ignored the stranger’s words and shouted angrily at his apprentice: “Fool, hurry to the Temple of the Void and fetch reinforcements!”

Though his tone was fierce and determined, and his face harsh, after decades of companionship, none knew Xuanyuan better than his apprentice. The command to fetch help from the Temple of the Void was merely a ruse to get him out of harm’s way.