Two cloud gods walked side by side, with Xue Cuo wedged between them.
From afar, one could see a band of giant cloud spirits dragging spiked clubs, massive broadswords, and iron cudgels, rampaging through the skies.
Wherever they passed, the clouds boiled, and cultivators fled in terror.
Seated upon the shoulder of one such giant, Xue Cuo exuded a borrowed air of authority. He was so tiny, like a little boil growing out of a divine shoulder. Amid giants five or six zhang tall, he looked pathetically undernourished.
The giant eyed him with distaste, opened its mouth, and blew out a wisp of nourishing cloud vapour, offering it to Xue Cuo as one might feed a sickly little brother.
Xue Cuo couldn’t stomach it, frantically waving his hands in refusal.
The giant frowned. How was the child meant to grow if he wouldn’t eat? It was just about to instruct its companions to pry the boy’s mouth open when suddenly, a sword struck from the west.
At the vanguard, one giant hunched low, gripping its mace and lunged forward.
BOOM—
A long sword tore through the sky like a rainbow.
The charging giant froze mid-stride. A thin beam of light pierced the back of its head, followed by a rush of gale-force wind. The giant gave a mighty roar before exploding into a thousand wisps of mist, scattered to the heavens.
The other giants recoiled at once, hastily retreating. The smaller cloud gods were herded to the back for safety.
The giant carrying Xue Cuo, being on the shorter side, was blocked from view. Xue Cuo, eager to see what was happening, stood on tiptoe, craning his neck over the giant’s scalp.
With a few muffled hoo-hoos, the giant popped him into its mouth for safekeeping.
Moments later, Xue Cuo’s little head poked out from the giant’s ear and peered forward.
There, a handsome young cultivator stood with one hand behind his back. His flowing black hair trailed like silk. In his left hand, he held a green-hilted sword. “Petty cloud gods, how dare you behave so impudently?”
He raised his sword and pointed at the giants. “Kneel. Beg my forgiveness.”
It was Zhuo Qingyuan. Having followed the disturbance here, he immediately began a divine massacre.
One towering cloud giant slammed its fists to the ground in fury. Lifting a thunderous war club, it charged.
Zhuo Qingyuan leapt nimbly onto the club, ran up its length, and unleashed a torrential flurry of sword strikes—so many, they fell like rain, like hair from a beast’s hide. The giant’s head flew off in a whirlwind, dispersing into mist.
Zhuo Qingyuan laughed with disdain. “And to think these little cloud gods have airs! Stray dogs, every one of you! You’re nothing more than mounts beneath our feet. What’s two wisps of cloud essence? Why, we could make you serve and tend to us!”
The giants roared in fury and surged forward as one.
Zhuo Qingyuan danced through them. The blade he held was extraordinary, sweeping like thunder, wind, and snow. Each swing conjured elemental Daoist illusions that repelled even the fiercest attacker.
A direct descendant of an Immortal Sect elder, he carried forbidden treasures into Wendao Palace with impunity, and wielded them with reckless pride.
“Hahaha! Xiao-Cui, are you watching? These cloud whelps are worthless! I, Zhuo Qingyuan, shall cleanse the skies in the name of Wendao Palace!”
Hiding in the shadows, Lang Cui gave a polite cough behind his handkerchief, his expression unreadable.
With growing relish, Zhuo Qingyuan sliced one unfortunate giant into a stick, lopping off its six arms, four heads, and two legs for fun.
Red robes whirling, dark hair streaming, he stood atop the prone giant’s chest, smiling serenely as the others held back, unsure how to proceed. “Interesting. Truly delightful,”
Then inspiration struck. “Why not trim you all to the same size, fit you with bridles. What splendid mounts you’d make!”
The giants’ eyes bulged with fury. Just then, Zhuo Qingyuan exclaimed, “Ruhui-shidi, you’re here too?”
From the battlefield’s edge emerged a quiet young man dressed in black, an ancient sword strapped to his back. He approached to stand beside Zhuo Qingyuan.
His dark hair, dark eyes, and solitary bearing made him look withdrawn and unreadable. He neither smiled nor spoke.
Zhuo Qingyuan caught him by the wrist and beamed. “Ruhui-didi, let me gift you a mount!”
Gu Ruhui cast a glance at the half-dismembered giant, now little more than a cracked statue leaking mist from its joints. It resembled, in a way, himself in childhood.
But it was too weak.
Too weak. Whether man or god, it meant no difference between slavery and death.
He looked away. “No thank you, shixiong. Sword cultivators ride only their swords.”
Zhuo Qingyuan parried another lunging giant with a swing of his sword. “Don’t be like that. Hey. Shidi is so young, yet so grim. That won’t do! Come, come. I’ll bring you to have some fun. Show me Sword Immortal’s Tianyi technique !”
Gu Ruhui frowned. “What’s so entertaining about slaughter? If I draw my sword, I leave no one standing.”
Zhuo Qingyuan laughed. “Ha! That’s the spirit! I was born gifted, nurtured by immortals, armed with rare treasures—and I can barely hold my own against these minor cloud gods. But you? A mortal’s son, barely in the Foundation Building Stage and you dare talk big? Come, come! If you don’t give me a proper show, I won’t let you leave!”
Taking in Zhuo Qingyuan’s scumbag appearance, Gu Ruhui said simply, “Then I’ll strike once.”
“One strike? What grand bravado—but I like it. You’re the sort who deserves to inherit the Sword Immortal’s legacy. That one named Xue. He’s utterly hopeless. What a waste of a lineage!”
Gu Ruhui: “He’s weak, therefore unworthy. Shifu is very strong.”
Zhuo Qingyuan laughed again. “Then, I’ll thoroughly enjoy myself in this contest. Let’s see who can kill a god with one strike!”
Cloud giants that once came together and overwhelmed Foundation Realm disciples, now had to face two Sword Immortal disciples armed with special weapons. They could only continue to retreat.
Seeing the tide turning, the tallest giants stepped forward to meet them, while the smaller ones made a break for it.
The giant carrying Xue Cuo prepared for battle, letting out a low, defiant roar as it condensed its body into dense mist-armour.
“I’ll handle this one!”
Zhuo Qingyuan, leaping into the fray, a streak of sword qi already aimed at the giant’s shoulder. But perched upon that shoulder was a tiny cloud figure. This was Xue Cuo, face tight with concentration, blank with dread.
The sword energy approached. The giant couldn’t withstand it. Zhuo Qingyuan surged forward to deliver the blow.
Suddenly—
Xue Cuo snapped his fingers. Three talismans burst from behind him with a whirring gust.
“Ignite”
BOOM—
An immense fireball detonated mid-air. Out of the blazing sphere flew flock after flock of flame-winged birds, flapping and shrieking as they soared.
Zhuo Qingyuan was caught completely off-guard. The fierce sunlight, laced with ancient Daoist power, seared through his robes, his hair, his eyebrows, scorching everything clean. He was left standing bald as a boiled egg.
Zhuo Qingyuan was shocked. What was that? So terrifying. A talisman? No, no. Could it be a formation?
These cloud gods are truly despicable!
The other giants turned in unison. High atop one of them, where a miniature cloud being had once perched, the mist had been all but vaporised, leaving only a little wisp clinging to his chest.
And there, white-skinned, black-haired, black-eyed, and clearly flesh-and-blood, was a child.
Not a cloud.
Xue Cuo stared at them. They stared back. Then they looked at each other.
He couldn’t quite see how much of his mist disguise had evaporated. But the chill down his spine said enough. Desperately, he prised open the giant’s mouth, climbed inside, and shut it behind him. Only a pair of wide, frightened eyes remained visible in the dark.
The giant: “…”
The giant blocked Gu Ruhui’s view. He didn’t see Xue Cuo.
Gu Ruhui slowly drew his sword. It was the first time he had unsheathed it since stepping into the immortal sect.
Back in the mortal world, he’d wielded it countless times. Every time, to kill: enemies, foes, the wicked, rivals.
But the sword was not a weapon of slaughter. The sword was a gentleman, a companion. It ought to be cherished.
Who would drive a friend to fury just for the sake of killing?
Gu Ruhui would not. His swordsmanship had been honed in blood, but it was the sword that had granted him a second life. And so he cherished it.
Shifu had given him a chance to be human, so he trusted his Shifu.
Zhuo Qingyuan was his friend. His friend had been injured. That, to Gu Ruhui, was reason enough to draw his sword.
He advanced in silence, facing an opponent who towered above him.
“I will kill you.”
He stated it plainly.
The giant remained mute. His eyes were like clay, mere etched lines that blinked but held no emotion.
His mouth was still agape. Inside, a little cloud person peered out at Gu Ruhui from afar.
Gu Ruhui didn’t recognise him. And Xue Cuo didn’t wave, didn’t shout “Little Gu-gege”.
He simply thought, The Twelve Heavenly Sword Forms… I probably won’t ever learn them. But Gu Ruhui will.
Gu Ruhui raised his sword. A soft breeze swept past. Xue Cuo could only glimpse the trailing afterimage of his movement.
Strong.
So strong.
Ren Shu-gege also used a sword, but compared to this one, his Twelve Zodiac Spirit Swords were like children’s toys.
But the one facing Gu Ruhui’s sword today wasn’t Ren Shu. It was Xue Cuo.
That sword-light was killing itself.
Suddenly, a kaleidoscope of mist surged up around them. Azure tides turned into an endless Great Loch. Within that lake, starlight shimmered in all directions, so bright it concealed even the light of the moon.
“Stars Shrouding the Moon.”
The sword aura split the illusion of stars and moon.
“The Naturally Wondrous, Merciful and Stern, Dao-Responding Goddess of the Great Loch.”
In the midst of those myriad stars, a faint silhouette appeared… a beautiful young maiden resting her head upon a ship’s helm, smiling gently.
Even though Xue Cuo had invoked her sacred name to empower his talisman, he now found the hairs on his arms standing up. His scalp felt like it was about to burst.
The sword-light paused. Then vanished without a trace.
Gu Ruhui dropped from mid-air. A moment later, he coughed up blood. Lifting his head, he locked eyes with the giant.
The cloud giant snapped its mouth shut… and took off.
The rest of the giants followed in a panic, fleeing in all directions with alarming speed.
Gu Ruhui wiped the trail of blood from his lips, only to hear a delicate cough. A clean white hem drifted into view. He looked up.
Lang Cui stood there, covering his mouth with a handkerchief. Glancing between him and Zhuo Qingyuan, he murmured, “I’ve miscalculated. It wasn’t Zhuo Vile-Mouth who spat blood. Still, it’s good.… at least my shoes didn’t get stained.”
With that, Lang Cui gave a satisfied smile.
Meanwhile, the cloud giants had scrambled deep into the clouds to hide.
One of them sneezed a small figure from its nose. The little cloud person tumbled onto a puff and stood up.
The giant frowned, then pressed the tiny figure onto the cloud and gave it a gentle rub.
The little one began to “fade”.
The cloud cover around Xue Cuo rubbed away, revealing his true face. He froze, then took two slow steps backwards, retreating into the corner of the cloud.
Seven or eight giants, towering like mountains, loomed over him with fierce expressions and tiger-like eyes.
Xue Cuo gripped his talisman paper tightly, preparing the wind talisman to so that he could bolt with the gust of wind.
But then, the tallest of the giants suddenly dropped to one knee. In a low and resonant voice, perfect, solemn human enunciation, he declared mournfully: “Her Ladyship, the Goddess of the Great Loch… Her Ladyship, the Goddess of the Great Loch… I remember now… this little god actually forgot… over ten thousand years… Her Ladyship…”
Those etched-on eyes blinked again, brimming with nostalgia and grief. Then, they began to weep thick streams of cloud.
Cloud-tears poured from the tiger-eyed giants, falling as tufts of soft white fog.
Those tufts bounced and danced with playful spirit, then swirled into a single rotund puff with a curly tail.
It circled Xue Cuo once, then abruptly split into two… and nestling snugly on either side of his flowerbud hair buns.
The lead giant dabbed his eyes, gathered himself, and addressed Xue Cuo in a deep, gravelly tone: “There’s a saying… When gods give, one oughtn’t refuse. Little one, I……”
Xue Cuo looked up: “Sorry! I’ll give it back right away!”
The giant: “I want to form a bond of good karma with you.”
