Dragon Elephant True Canon

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Seven days passed in a flash.

The matter of the life-and-death contest between the Ning and Xu families was no longer fresh news within the Demon Sigil Sect.

Once every ten years, the two families would hold their contest, and invariably, one Foundation Establishment cultivator would perish. Only on rare occasions did both sides fall together.

For the outer disciples of the Demon Sigil Sect, this contest was considered a grand event occurring just once a decade.

After all, cultivators in the Qi Absorption stage rarely had the chance to observe the duels of Foundation Establishment masters up close, let alone witness battles to the death.

During the contest, both sides would fight with all their might, making it an invaluable learning opportunity for those still in the Qi Absorption stage. Many disciples would prepare their vantage points well in advance, ready to record the proceedings on jade slips as soon as the contest began. Afterwards, these jade slip recordings would fetch a fine price in the outer market.

On another note, the Xu cultivator participating in this contest was an outer elder of the sect and had interacted with many among the outer disciples. Rumor had it he stood no chance of victory this time, and many disciples came to witness the event as a form of farewell.

Of course, there were also those drawn to admire the brilliance of Young Master Ning, an inner disciple of the Flame Demon Hall…

The sect’s core legacy was the Arcane Codex of Chaotic Shadow Demon Sigils, a transmission that led straight to the Primordial Spirit Path. With time, five branches had evolved, each establishing its own hall: the Flame Demon, Ice Demon, Thunder Demon, Wind Demon, and Origin Demon Halls.

Outer disciples had to pass numerous trials and accumulate merit before earning the chance to join any of the five halls as inner disciples, thereby inheriting the true teachings of the Dao.

On this day—

Seven streaks of multicolored light shot across the sky above Falling Star Lake, landing before the entrance to Xu Daoist’s abode.

Seven young men and women, all clad in the robes of outer disciples, stepped forward and rang the jade bell.

Ding!

A clear, melodious chime rang out, audible throughout the abode.

After waiting a moment, the doors remained tightly closed.

“Could it be that Elder Xu is not within?” asked a delicate-featured young woman.

“Impossible. Elder Xu announced his seclusion two months ago and has not left his abode since. With the contest imminent, why would he leave now?” replied a burly man in his thirties.

“Perhaps Elder Xu has reached a critical point in his cultivation and cannot receive guests. We’re free anyway; let’s wait here a bit,” murmured a tall, ethereal beauty, her voice as gentle as an orchid in a secluded valley.

The other six deferred to her, readily agreeing.

Pang Yue had already heard the chime but did not leave his meditation chamber.

At this moment, he was truly in no position to receive visitors.

Within the quiet chamber,

Pang Yue sat cross-legged on the ground, now over three meters tall, resembling a small mountain, his entire being radiating an intense golden light.

He had not anticipated that seven days of cultivation would result in such a drastic transformation of his physique!

Eighteen Dragon-Elephant Seals covered his chest, shoulders, and back, each like an ancient beast, brimming with terrifying force and energy.

More wondrous still, the eighteen seals had merged into a single, immense power, at his command, making every movement exude crushing strength.

At this stage, mastery of the Dragon-Elephant Subduing Fist was within reach!

A force of 1.8 million catties coursed through him.

Even some Foundation Establishment stage demon beasts could not boast such power.

According to Xu Daoist’s memories, the strength of ordinary body cultivators at this stage hovered just above a million catties.

Other Foundation Establishment cultivators, relying on raw physical might, could reach at most one hundred thousand catties.

Only the rarest body-tempering arts could break past the million-catties barrier, elevating one’s strength without limit!

Pang Yue finished his cultivation, silently refining the new, overwhelming force surging within him.

Gradually, his body shrank, returning to normal size.

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By midday,

Pang Yue completed his exercises, rose to his full height, and a succession of thunderous, resonant booms echoed from within his body.

He changed into a grey Daoist robe, the golden light on his skin withdrawn, leaving behind only a faint, serene aura of Zen.

Exiting to the main hall, he seated himself at the central position, formed a seal, and removed the ward, causing the doors to slowly open.

“Elder Xu, disciple Zhao Mengyuan and six others have come to pay our respects. Please forgive the intrusion.”

A gentle, melodious voice drifted into the hall.

“Come in,” Pang Yue replied with a wave of his hand, conjuring several jade stools within the chamber.

The seven disciples entered together, led by the elegant and strikingly beautiful young woman.

“Zhao Mengyuan…”

At the sight of them, flashes of memory crossed Pang Yue’s mind.

All seven owed favors to Xu Daoist.

Some owed him even their lives.

He hadn’t expected that, with the contest so near, they would come as a group to visit.

Of the seven, Zhao Mengyuan’s cultivation was the highest, already at the ninth level of Qi Absorption. The others ranged from the seventh to the eighth level.

“Elder Xu, in three days the contest between the Ning and Xu families will be upon us. We are of meager strength and can offer little help, but we have pooled our spirit stones to purchase a magical weapon as a small token of our gratitude for your great kindness.”

All seven bowed in unison, then Zhao Mengyuan presented a black saber to Pang Yue.

The blade was nearly two meters long, with serrated edges and a chilling aura that seemed to evoke the eternal torment of the netherworld.

“A top-grade magical weapon?”

With a single glance, Pang Yue recognized its rank.

It housed eight complete inscriptions, with a ninth only partially formed.

The material was exceptional, hinting at the potential to become a true spiritual weapon.

Zhao Mengyuan spoke softly: “Indeed. This Nether Demon Frost Blade was forged by a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. Its lethality rivals a first-rank spiritual weapon, and it has some restraining effect on flame-based magic…”

“You have my thanks.”

Pang Yue smiled, then said, “Even with this weapon, my odds remain slim. That Young Master Ning has more than one top-grade magical item. You spent so many spirit stones on this for me, but if I lose, it will simply go to waste and end up benefiting them.”

Zhao Mengyuan glanced at the others, then fixed her beautiful eyes on Pang Yue, her face solemn. “Elder, your kindness saved my life, a debt I can never repay. At this critical hour, it is only right that we exhaust every means to help you. Please do not refuse us.”

Pang Yue sighed. Though the Demon Sigil Sect belonged to the demonic path, it was not without people of loyalty and feeling.

In truth, while the sect’s arts were of the demonic lineage, they did not entail the slaughter of innocents or senseless harm to living beings; in many ways, they were closer to the orthodox sects.

“The day I saved you was but a matter of convenience, nothing to speak of…”

Years ago, Zhao Mengyuan and her companions had encountered disaster at sea while hunting demon beasts and were pursued by a Foundation Establishment demon beast. Had Xu Daoist not intervened, they would have perished.

Xu Daoist never thought much of it, but those who were saved did not forget.

Zhao Mengyuan hesitated, then finally asked, “Elder, may I speak frankly?”

Pang Yue, who rather appreciated her, smiled. “Say whatever is on your mind.”

“Elder, your ties to the Xu family are not deep. Why not forfeit the contest and leave the sect, wandering free as a rogue cultivator? That must be better than…”

She trailed off, perplexed.

Pang Yue chuckled coldly, his eyes flashing. “You are still too young. The moment the contest was agreed upon, both I and Young Master Ning were each forced to accept a life-and-death parasite. Only one of the pair can survive, or both will die.”

“But couldn’t you have left before accepting the parasite?”

A gentle-faced, younger woman could not help asking.

Pang Yue looked at her and chuckled. “Four Foundation Establishment elders from the Xu family personally informed me of the contest and watched as I was implanted with the parasite. Do you think I had any chance to escape?”

Zhao Mengyuan’s eyes filled with sorrow. Her gaze hardened, and she suddenly swore an oath to the heavens: “Today, I, Zhao Mengyuan, swear that if I survive and become strong, I will avenge Elder Xu. Should I break this vow, let my cultivation never advance by even a hair’s breadth!”

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“You… there’s no need for this!” Pang Yue smiled wryly, waving his hands in protest.

The other six exchanged glances, then promptly stood and swore similar oaths.

…

After Zhao Mengyuan and her companions left, Pang Yue sat alone in the main hall.

The Nether Demon Frost Blade lay casually on the stone table, its dark blue frost slowly spreading across the surface.

Three days remained until the contest.

Further cultivation of the Dragon-Elephant Subduing Fist was no longer feasible. Pang Yue turned his thoughts elsewhere, once again sending out the Primordial Infinity Tablet to begin deriving the Scarlet Flame Sword Canon, an art Xu Daoist had cultivated.

This sword art had been passed down in the Xu family for over five centuries and was their most powerful offensive technique.

The Dragon-Elephant Fist was formidable, but few could comprehend its true essence, so its power was rarely fully realized.

The Scarlet Flame Sword Canon was different. The sword energy it produced was grand and forceful, infused with scorching heat, and its killing power was extraordinary—comparable to top-grade magical weapons.

Pang Yue activated the Primordial Infinity Tablet, and a surge of profound comprehension welled up within him.

In the boundless heavens,

A Daoist in blue robes stood atop a flying sword, hands clasped behind his back as he traversed the clouds.

Suddenly, the void quaked. A monstrous creature, pitch-black and octopus-like, crawled out from the emptiness, its countless black, oily tentacles reaching toward the Daoist.

At each tentacle’s end, a gaping maw lined with jagged, barbed teeth yawned wide, descending in a torrent upon the Daoist.

A long, thunderous howl split the sky.

A crimson sword-light blazed forth, swift as lightning, whirling around the monster’s tentacles countless times in the blink of an eye.

Only then did the rolling thunder sound.

Sword energy thunderclap.

Wherever the sword light passed, the tentacles were severed! The sword’s brilliance was grand and unrestrained, magnificent in its movements yet agile as a darting fish, flashing about the monster before suddenly coming to rest, suspended in mid-air.

With a final flash, the Daoist in blue robes reappeared.

The monster let out a wretched shriek as lines of fire burst across its body, then shattered into hundreds of pieces.

…

The vision ended.

At a thought, Pang Yue summoned a segment of sword blade before him.

It was only a foot long, both ends pointed, the blade straight as an arrow.

It hovered upright before Pang Yue, its edge aligned with the center of his forehead, so that from the front, it seemed a single thread divided him in two.

Butterfly Among Flowers.

This was Xu Daoist’s life-bound flying sword, a top-grade magical weapon.

Xu Daoist had immersed himself in the sword for years, attaining the realm of “Sword Mind Illuminated,” able to wield the blade as he wished, with a single thought.

Now, Pang Yue controlled the sword with his spirit. The blade moved with his will, a cold, clear streak leaving afterimages as it flashed around the hall in a complex pattern before coming to rest as if it had never moved at all.

“The next step… is unity of sword and self.”

This meant fusing one’s magic, body, and flying sword, not only greatly increasing the sword’s power but achieving invulnerability to all methods.

This was a profound realm of the sword, one that Xu Daoist had never reached in his lifetime.

Countless sword cultivators in the cultivation world pursued this state in vain; only after forming a Golden Core, with heightened insight into the Dao and a true understanding of the fusion of body and spirit, could one hope to master it.

At this moment, Butterfly Among Flowers quivered slightly, emitting a clear sword cry, transmitting a sense of joy as if it had sensed something.

A glimmer of anticipation lit Pang Yue’s gaze. The corners of his mouth curled into a smile, and his figure flickered slightly…

In an instant, the hall was ablaze with dazzling sword-light.