What awaited him was not fresh flesh and blood, but a dragon-patterned broadsword.
“Finally,” said the female swordswoman calmly, “My waiting has paid off.”
Twelve years of sharpening a single blade… one strike to shatter all laws.
At the same moment, above the seal, stood a withered peach tree. From its barren branches hung the trailing hem of a snow-white robe.
Sword Immortal lay there, one arm folded beneath his head.
Suddenly, the blazing flower branch in his hand trembled, and Jun Wuwei’s eyes snapped open.
Swordmaster!
Without the faintest hesitation, the instant he sensed that surge of sword intent, he knew. Swordmaster was breaking the stalemate. At once, he activated the Wendao Bell.
Clang—
Heaven and earth fell still.
Thunder rolled above the Dragon Abyss, and the entire seal quaked, dust rising in drifting clouds.
Xue Zhenzhen swung her sword; its energy roared like wildfire across the heavens, setting ablaze a vast ocean of flames within that lightless seal.
“Hiss—“
The evil spirit howled with fury and revealed its true form.
Amidst the sea of fire, a colossal, pitch-black, serpent-like creature writhed endlessly, seeking to turn the seal itself against the female swordswoman.
Sword aura and serpent god collided, stirring a storm of savage force.
Blood welled from Xue Zhenzhen’s palm, yet her eyes shone with the brilliance of a blade. “Twelve years ago you could not do it,” she said coldly. “Twelve years later, you still cannot.”
“Roooar!”
The serpent exhaled a pale yellow mist, weaving a labyrinth of illusion… but in a heartbeat, her sword tore it apart.
Enraged, it bellowed like thunder, its hoarse voice reverberating through the seal. “Human, you seek death!”
It no longer held back its power. Its true body unfurled, striking with full force.
Clang!
Xue Zhenzhen raised her sword to meet the blow but was hurled several miles away. Blood spilled from her hand; even the Dragon Might Sword showed a fine crack along its edge.
A black claw crept silently towards her back.
Before it could touch her robe, a white-robed cultivator appeared, a bronze bell slung over his shoulder. He stood suspended in the air, calmly blocking the strike.
Xue Zhenzhen did not turn. She wiped the blood from her lips without concern, as though she had known all along he would break through the seal to reach her.
A warmth gathered at her back.
Jun Wuwei leaned against her, the flower branch trembling faintly in his hand. He tilted his head and murmured,
“Swordmaster, I cannot kill it alone.”
Sparks burst from Xue Zhenzhen’s broadsword as she arched a cold brow. “I never said you were to fight alone.”
Jun Wuwei said no more.
A voice like muffled thunder resounded through the secret realm. “Humans! This is my dominion. Kneel, and I shall make you my guardians. Refuse and you shall be my sacrifices. I will grind you to dust before I break free!”
Dragging her great sword behind her, Xue Zhenzhen said to the immense shadow writhing in the void, “So long winded.”
Her steps quickened; she sprang skyward and swung her blade. “Jun Wuwei!”
The white-robed cultivator followed at once. His swordlight flashed like lightning, swift as a gale, sweeping across the abyss like a soaring dragon.
That blinding swordlight illuminated the dark underworld of the seal, revealing the monstrous shadow lurking deep within. Every scale, every claw was laid bare.
It was a Swallowing Viper.
Ancient texts record: “On the red shores of the Southern Sea dwells a serpent named Viper. It is ox-headed, snake-bodied, red-bearded and bare-footed, its pupils glimmering like molten gold. Whoso eats its flesh shall never again dream.”
No one knew how long the Swallowing Viper had been imprisoned. Its vast body filled half the cavern beneath. Now, struck by sudden light, it froze in place.
Xue Zhenzhen fought in a blaze of fury, every strike a killing blow.
Jun Wuwei, feeling the ferocity of her sword intent, was quietly astonished. Through the link of thought, he asked, “Swordmaster, you mean to kill it?”
Xue Zhenzhen gave no answer, only her crimson eyes met his. “Will you help me or no?”
“This creature is the source of the mortal world’s great calamity,” Jun Wuwei warned. “To slay it is to invite endless disaster. Interfere with fate, and Heaven will notice you.”
“To break free and ravage the human realm, that is this serpent’s destiny,” he said. “It has been bound for ten thousand years. It deserves ten years of freedom.”
“Destiny?” Xue Zhenzhen laughed softly. “Life is seized, not granted. What of Heaven’s will? Do you think I fear it?”
Jun Wuwei sighed. “This is ill-advised.”
But killing was killing… and so it would be.
If she would not retreat, neither would he.
“Then let this be the sword that steadies mountains and rivers,” Jun Wuwei said at last.
Light collapsed into darkness.
The entire seal shattered with a thunderous crash. The sword intent of heaven and earth sang in rapture, filling the air with blinding brilliance. Razor-edged qi sealed the realm on all sides, turning that haunted domain into a kingdom of swords.
The Swallowing Viper, grievously wounded, fled with its dying strength, too broken even to curse its defeat.
Xue Zhenzhen, her plain robes torn, sat cross-legged on the ground, gasping for breath.
She draped Jun Wuwei’s outer robe over her shoulders, resting one knee upright. The Dragon Might Sword had lost a fragment of its blade. Her body was marked with countless wounds. Each one earned in battle against the Viper.
A life traded for victory; the serpent was vanquished.
They had won.
But Xue Zhenzhen was gravely wounded, and even the Dragon Might Sword bore a fissure.
The flower branch in Jun Wuwei’s hand had withered. His expression remained calm; three claw marks scored his chest, yet he paid them no heed. Folding his arms, he gazed at the swordlight still rippling across the sky, lost in thought.
Suddenly, Xue Zhenzhen looked up. “Jun Wuwei, why can’t I sense Xue Cuo?”
Jun Wuwei was silent.
She rose, gripping the Dragon Might Sword in one hand, her other hand clutching his robe. “Jun Wuwei?”
After a pause, her voice turned cold. “I know you still have one final sword to draw. And I know, for that sword, you will not touch karma.”
“You have your Dao, and I have mine.”
“I have never wronged you.”
“You….”
Jun Wuwei’s voice was quiet. “Swordmaster.”
…
Yin Feixue searched the mountains and wilds for a long time, but there was no trace of Xue Yinbing. He rubbed the back of his head, disheartened, and descended upon a small nameless city, intending to find a drink.
The city was humble and without renown.
Yin Feixue concealed his features with Daoist arts, a wine gourd hanging from his hand as he drifted into the crowd.
Bored and aimless, he wandered along with the townsfolk until he reached a tavern. There, he ordered two jars of fine wine, cracked the clay seal, and drank idly.
It was the third month of the human realm.
Pear blossoms fell like drifting clouds, blanketing the lake and flowing with the rippling water.
After more than ten days of travel, he was weary to the bone. He drank until the fur along his body shimmered and floated as though weightless.
Just then, a flicker of blue cloth swept past his eyes. Startled, Yin Feixue sprang to his feet.
He chased after it, wine jar in hand. Everywhere he looked, there were people out to enjoy the spring. That flash of blue seemed nothing more than a mirage.
Unable to hide his disappointment, he flicked his ears, raised the wine jar again, and kept walking as he drank.
…
“Xue Yinbing.”
…
Xue Cuo had been admiring the pear blossoms. Hearing the familiar voice, he froze and turned. Not far away stood a dusty white tiger, clutching a wine jar.
He too was taken aback.
The tiger watched him for a moment, then leapt lightly down and landed beside him. Its golden eyes stared without blinking. Xue Cuo felt a sudden weight drop into his arms. The tiger had tossed something to him, its expression cool and distant.
Xue Cuo looked down. It was a Heaven-Turning Seal, engraved with ancient script… clearly a fine magic treasure by any measure.
“Your Majesty.”
“No reward without merit. You and I met by chance, used each other as we pleased. I’ve no right to keep this Heaven-Turning Seal. It’s yours.”
He took a pull of wine and walked off.
Xue Cuo was at a loss. Meeting again in such a remote mortal town was strange enough.
And this mighty demon king… didn’t even want the treasure he’d deliberately left for him?
Holding the Lake and Sea Heaven-Turning Seal, Xue Cuo hesitated before catching up. “My lord, this was something you took. Naturally, it belongs to you.”
Yin Feixue lifted his wine jar and sprang into a pear tree. “My name isn’t carved on it.”
Xue Cuo adjusted his bamboo hat and looked up. “Do you want it, then? If not, I’ll throw it away.”
He had only landed here to rest a while since the scenery was pleasant. Who would have thought he’d run into Yin Feixue again?
Surely the tiger hadn’t been searching for him all this way.
The thought amused him. He shook his head with a smile.
“Then throw it away.”
Sulking, Yin Feixue lay back on a branch, one arm behind his head, and took a long swig of wine. Xue Cuo, taking him at his word, casually tossed the Heaven-Turning Seal. Before it could hit the ground, a white blur darted down and snatched it back. “Why are you throwing it away so casually?”
Xue Cuo laughed. “You told me to chuck it.”
Yin Feixue said nothing.
Xue Cuo was injured and didn’t climb up the tree.
He lingered by the lake for a time, mind turning over what lay ahead. He was glad to see Yin Feixue, of course… but he had left without saying goodbye, not only to avoid trouble, but also to spare them both the sorrow of parting.
The Eastern Lands were vast beyond measure.
To meet once was already fate. Twice, in such short time, was a miracle.
Xue Cuo plucked a pear blossom and tossed it onto the lake, watching it drift before saying, “I won’t disturb Your Majesty’s leisure. Farewell.”
He turned to leave. Suddenly, a voice sounded from behind him: “Take the Heaven-Turning Seal with you.”
He was about to reply when Yin Feixue added quietly, “I was purposely looking for you and had already given up.”
Xue Cuo turned back. Yin Feixue had jumped down from the tree, arms folded, his tigerish face calm was too calm, yet with a glint of understanding beneath.
“There are plenty of people in this world who hate demon cultivators. We demons don’t much like humans either.”
“If you want to cut ties cleanly, then take it. After this, we owe each other nothing.”
Xue Cuo frowned, uncertain. He weighed the Heaven-Turning Seal in his palm. It made sense. He had left it behind with goodwill, not wanting Yin Feixue to be short-changed, and to keep the peace should they ever fight side by side again.
But if the tiger wanted a clean break, forcing the matter would only go against that spirit.
Indeed, Yin Feixue had made his distaste clear from the start. He wanted nothing to do with Xianghuo Divine Dao.
Thinking this, Xue Cuo put the Heaven-Turning Seal away, cupped his hands, and said, “Since Your Majesty insists, I’ll accept the [Lake and Sea Heaven-Turning Seal]. From now on, there will be no debts between us.”
He bowed slightly and turned to go.
“Xue Yinbing!”
He was suddenly yanked back by the collar. Startled, Xue Cuo instinctively summoned a talisman. But Yin Feixue, after ten days together and sharp enough to read him like an open scroll, was faster.
A pair of white, furred claws seized his wrists and pinned them against the tree. The scuffle shook the pear branches above them, sending petals tumbling down like snow.
Yin Feixue was struck by a flash of memory of their first encounter.
Xue Cuo standing on the edge of the black blade, light as a feather, as though he weighed nothing at all.
Xue Cuo hissed in pain. “Is Your Majesty taking advantage of the wounded?”
The pear blossoms drifted down, covering Yin Feixue’s head and shoulders. They locked eyes for a moment, but he said nothing more… and only leapt away into the sky.
Xue Cuo rubbed his wrist, glanced at the wine jar on the ground, and clicked his tongue. “Tsk.”
Yin Feixue flew for a while before frowning. Something felt wrong. He touched his chest and pulled out a [Lake and Sea Heaven-Turning Seal], slipped there at some unknown moment.
He froze.
When he returned to the little town, the youth in blue was gone from beneath the pear tree.
