The downpour thrashed like war drums on a battlefield, and the mountainside was a scene of brutal carnage.

Especially after that sword-wielding woman, whom they had thought dead, reappeared unharmed, emerging from the dilapidated temple.

Lord Wang Qi of the mountain top and the Water Demon of Buried River exchanged bewildered glances. What kind of celestial magic was this? Could this peerless beauty with her extraordinary swordsmanship be a puppet made of talismans by a heretical Daoist sect? Or perhaps some unheard-of feat of Moist mechanical arts? But when did talismans and mechanics become so advanced?

On that patch of flattened forest, ravaged by sword energy time and again, General Xu Qingzhou glanced at Immortal Master Xu Tong of the Grasswood Hermitage. If not for Xu Tong’s warning, he would have reached for that infatuated sword, clearly a treasure of magical quality. Xu Tong insisted he step aside, a shock that prompted him to abandon the within-reach magic artifact, averting the swordsmanship of the resurrected woman. Otherwise, he would have lost at least an arm.

Xu Tong’s expression was grave. “This woman is definitely not a mere martial brute.”

Xu Qingzhou focused his gaze. The woman’s corpse had vanished, except for the sword that was now being controlled and the sword energy that arrived in an instant, cleaving him.

Far away, perched on a tree branch, Sui Youbian stood unscathed, infatuated sword in hand.

Sui Youbian gazed at Xu Qingzhou, clad in golden Crow Armor, and Immortal Master Xu Tong, fingering a golden talisman, her battle intent blazing. She had a premonition – another life-or-death battle, pushing her pure vital energy to its limit, and her breakthrough would be imminent!

Xu Qingzhou felt a moment of wavering. After “dying once,” this woman’s cultivation and aura had increased so noticeably. She had clearly seized the opportunity for a breakthrough in the midst of battle, intending to use him and Xu Tong as whetstones for her martial path. Once she ascended to the seventh realm, the Golden Body Realm, his famed blade “Ingenious” would lose its significance.

Xu Qingzhou was a resolute martial artist hardened by countless battles. If even he was shaken, how could Xu Tong, a Qi cultivator from the Grasswood Hermitage, the Great Spring Dynasty’s premier immortal sect, and heir to a lineage of generations, not feel unease? He feared facing an enemy who could break through in battle, a seemingly unkillable foe. One successful sword strike could sever his head.

In this vast world, wonders never cease. Magical treasures and spiritual artifacts are countless, but a Qi cultivator has only one life.

Xu Qingzhou sensed Xu Tong’s apprehension. Without displaying anger or cursing the immortals enjoying a hundred years of comfort in Mirage City, he calmly stated, “Kill her once more. If she revives again, we will avoid her.”

Xu Tong gritted his teeth, the golden talisman in his fingers radiating light. “Then we shall spare no cost to kill her once more!”

Sui Youbian curled her lip.

She viewed Xu Qingzhou and Xu Tong as mere stepping stones on her path to ascension, two sets of bones beneath her feet.

On another battlefield, Lu Baixiang also needed a breather. Because Sui Youbian had drawn away Xu Qingzhou and Xu Tong, the martial arts grandmaster and Qi cultivator who had been lurking in the shadows were not as lethal as the two. Only a bloody gash was cut into his ribs, and a special arrow, covered in talisman markings, pierced his shoulder. Lu Baixiang flicked the blood off his blade, not even glancing at the arrow, nor did he attempt to pull it out.

He and the other three All-Under-Heavens, each of the Four previous All-Under-Heavens of Lotus Root Blessing Land had received a word before leaving the painting, unknown to each other. Chen Pingan, as the four’s shared Lord, was kept in the dark.

Wei Xian was the first to leave the painting, but the words spoken at the door of the broken temple were given quite late.

Lu Baixiang believed Wei Xian would not lie about such things, and he further believed that Chen Pingan had not secretly instructed Wei Xian to lure the four into a deadly battle.

But Lu Baixiang didn’t want to die just yet.

Zhu Lian hadn’t died yet either. The crouching old man’s life aura before the broken temple was the most vibrant, a berserker whose killing power increased with injury.

Lu Baixiang had never heard of any Gold Essence Copper Coin, only that the Godly Money of this world came in three kinds: Snowdrop, Lesser Heat, and Grain Rain. He felt his life was worth more than any Gold Essence Copper Coin.

In any case, he was about to break through a thousand armors. Since completing the agreement was imminent, there was no need to rush. Besides, the other party’s encirclement and kill was far from ready to reel in a big fish like him.

Regarding the matter of breakthrough, Lu Baixiang was perhaps the most clear-headed of the four.

Sui Youbian was undoubtedly the most ardent, for she possessed the greatest ambition, to fulfill Lotus Root Blessing Land’s incomplete wish, to ascend with her sword.

A second surge of fresh, pure vital energy coursed through Lu Baixiang’s body like a mighty river, less than his peak state, but enough for another incense stick’s worth of fighting.

At the foot of the mountain with the broken temple, Great Spring border soldiers were climbing the mountain, engaging and exterminating those rumored Demonic Path giants.

Gao Shizhen’s face was pale under the downpour. He finally yielded to the Old Steward, letting him hold up an umbrella.

Gao Shizhen had just experienced a great surge of joy and terror. First, intelligence from the mountain reported that the sword-wielding woman had been slain by General Xu and Immortal Master Xu. Her head was severed by Xu Qingzhou, and the master of Grasswood Hermitage had destroyed her very soul. Moments later, scouts reported that the sword-wielding woman had revived and was engaged in another battle with Xu Qingzhou and Xu Tong. This time, the sword-wielding woman was targeting the two, no longer targeting the border soldiers.

This Great Spring Duke, who had staked everything, turned to look at the soldiers climbing the mountain in silence, some young faces about the same age as his son Gao Shuyi, some battle-hardened veterans who were no longer young, like Gao Shizhen himself.

Roughly two quarters of an hour later, Gao Shizhen received more bad news.
The sword-wielding woman endured a slash on her back from Xu Qingzhou, as well as a crushing blow from a golden-armored talisman puppet. Yet, with a single thrust, she pierced Xu Tong’s heart. The Immortal Master Xu, who should not have died so quickly, exhausted every means to prolong his life. Regardless of the countless elixirs he swallowed or the life-sustaining spells he cast, he still perished, his heart withered to ashes. After the sword-wielding woman’s death, her corpse vanished once more, emerging from the dilapidated temple for the second time, now having ascended to the seventh realm of martial arts, the Golden Body realm. General Xu had already retreated, deserting his post. His Royal Highness the First Prince was enraged, vowing to severely punish the Xu family of Mirage City.

Gao Shizhen remained silent.

Only the bone-chilling, torrential rain of the winter night echoed like the muttering of the heavens in their sleep.

The old steward, who had served the Duke’s manor for generations, softly consoled, “Your Grace, as long as Master Wang hasn’t personally intervened, it means the situation hasn’t reached a point of no return. There’s no need for such pessimism.”

Gao Shizhen’s face remained expressionless.

On the mountain, although Lu Baixiang had sustained numerous injuries, aside from the wound on his waist and the imperial arrow piercing his shoulder, his combat prowess was not significantly diminished. He continued to repel wave after wave of attacks.

Any stray combatants who slipped past were effortlessly dealt with by Wei Xian, who stood guard at the temple gate, a one-man bulwark.

His “Sweet Dew Armor” truly lived up to its reputation, a piece of military equipment coveted by Xu Qingzhou, despite Xu himself wearing a “Golden Crow Armor,” a far superior item from the second rank of military armaments.

Furthermore, Wei Xian, hailing from the ranks, the founding emperor of the Southern Garden Kingdom, rose from the bottom of society, spending most of his life on the battlefield. He had earned the reputation of being a one-man army in the history of the four nations of Lotus Root Paradise. After him, even the most celebrated battlefield generals, no matter how glorious in their lifetimes, were at best considered “Wei Xian the Second.” Therefore, Wei Xian was more suited to the chaos of close-quarters combat than Lu Baixiang. In the midst of a formed army, Wei Xian possessed an advantage akin to a Confucian Sage presiding over an academy.

This was not a talent that any sixth-realm martial artist could possess, and even masters of the eighth-realm Distant Excursion or ninth-realm Mountain Peak might not attain it.

Zhu Lian spared no effort in his attacks, and as a result, he was heavily injured.

When Wei Xian intended to switch positions with Zhu Lian, Zhu Lian refused his kindness. A martial madman, once cornered, possessed a ferocity that inspired terror.

Wei Xian still insisted on replacing Zhu Lian, mainly to stage a grand spectacle of “snatching the general’s head from a myriad of troops,” something he excelled at. Although it would likely cost him his life to kill that Great Spring Prince Liu Cong, Wei Xian felt that dying and coming back to life once could earn him a satisfying, uninhibited charge, which was worthwhile. Besides, he was guarding the door of the Border Tavern; now he was guarding the temple door on the mountain. Would he become a mere watchdog?

But Zhu Lian, with a punch, repelled a cultivator’s magical artifact, using the momentum to retreat. His aged form slid backward, his fists revealing bone.

Before charging forward again, Zhu Lian grinned and softly said to Wei Xian behind him, “A friendly reminder, dying and reviving costs Chen Ping’an’s money. Whether he minds it or not depends on our feelings. But I advise you not to die so easily. I can’t explain why, just a gut feeling. Believe it or not, if you don’t care, bypass these annoying flies who know some magic and go kill that Prince Liu Cong. I won’t stop you.”

Wei Xian seemed unwilling to accept the advice, asking, “Can you block the armored soldiers from entering the temple for a moment?”

Zhu Lian had already stomped his foot heavily, his figure like a thunderbolt, changing direction several times as he engaged the accompanying cultivators and the supporting armored soldiers.

Clearly, Zhu Lian would not help him with this task.

Wei Xian punched a Great Spring border soldier who was slashing at his mask with a saber, crushing the armor on his chest and sending him flying into another soldier behind him, killing the man instantly with hemorrhaging from all orifices.

Wei Xian took a moment to glance at Chen Ping’an. “Capture the leader to defeat the army. Should I give it a try?”

Chen Ping’an nodded in agreement.

Wei Xian took a deep breath and swiftly darted forward, slightly detouring around Zhu Lian’s battlefield.

Zhu Lian chuckled. “Ignoring the words of an old man brings misfortune. Such rare compassion, yet it’s treated like a whisper in the wind. Such is the world.”

Chen Ping’an once again looked up, staring directly at the mountain peak.

Inside the dilapidated temple, Pei Qian was showing off her possessions to the lotus child, including the treasure box.

She harbored surprisingly little suspicion toward the simple lotus child, who was the only one besides Chen Ping’an she truly trusted in this world.

But the lotus child was distracted, often standing on tiptoe and gazing at Chen Ping’an outside the door.

Pei Qian scolded with a sour face, “What’s wrong? No faith in my daddy? Did you lose an arm and your eyes too? Who’s my daddy? He’ll never lose! I’m telling you! Even if I, Pei Qian, become a fool who doesn’t like money one day, my daddy will never lose a fight to anyone!”

The lotus child looked blank, not understanding the connection. He never understood what this ill-tempered, dark-skinned girl was thinking.

Chen Ping’an’s voice echoed into the temple, “Use a branch to copy books and practice calligraphy.”

Pei Qian, who was squatting on the ground, was struck by lightning. She secretly slapped the lotus child on the head, not daring to hit too hard, lest the five hundred characters turn into a thousand. After standing up, she took her walking staff and began writing the sages’ articles on the ground. Every time she wrote a character, the little guy would hop and dive into the ground, then pop his head out next to the character, giggling. Pei Qian rolled her eyes, thinking how could there be such a boring little thing in the world? Maybe he’s an idiot? Alas, she had to talk to Chen Ping’an about this and sell him for money so she could buy a new book.

On the mountaintop, the Buried River Water Demon rubbed his fists, eager to try. “How about I go down and stretch my legs?”

Wang Qi was hesitant.

The burly man glanced at the rain. “In another quarter of an hour, the rain will lessen. Even if you beg me then, I won’t bother to make a move. Don’t forget, I didn’t originally need to help you kill anyone. I’m just here to keep an eye on things for my master. When the time comes, I can just take the Sword Nurturing Gourd from Chen Ping’an’s corpse and leave.”

Of course, he still needed to help his master find the treasure that could conceal the secrets of heaven.

As for how to find it…

There was great mystery.

Wang Qi, a heretical gentleman of the academy, was not qualified to know this secret.
The burly man subtly shifted his gaze, glancing at Lu Baixiang who was wielding a narrow blade.

After careful consideration, Wang Qi nodded and said, “You can make a move, but don’t reveal your true form. Otherwise, I won’t be able to explain it to the Great Fu Academy. That Mountain Master is not easily fooled.”

The burly man sneered, “Isn’t that simple? Just say that this Bury River water demon was enlightened by you, abandoned evil and embraced goodness, and wants to ask you and the Great Spring Dynasty for a water god temple. So, he’s willing to lend a hand, earning a proper identity through meritorious service. How can that be hard to explain?”

Wang Qi forced a bitter smile. “His Majesty Liu Zhen might believe this seemingly reasonable explanation, but the Academy’s Mountain Master will never take it seriously. Alright, just do as I say. Don’t engage Chen Ping’an in combat with your demon form. Just force Chen Ping’an to reveal a single flaw…”

Wang Qi paused, his murderous intent palpable. “I want him to be utterly annihilated here!”

The burly man curled his lip. “Fine, I hope you’ll follow through and kill that Chen Ping’an who’s just waiting for us to come to his doorstep. Don’t let it just be empty words…”

At this point, the stout man burst into laughter. “I almost forgot, your scholars’ eloquence is the most formidable in this world. My apologies, my apologies.”

Wang Qi didn’t deign to argue with this uncivilized demon.

The Bury River water demon didn’t care whether it would alert the dilapidated temple. He strode out, each step shaking the hilltop, and instantly burst out of the cliffside, drawing an arc in the air before crashing to the ground with a deafening roar.

Wang Qi sighed softly, his face etched with worry.

“Forming the Golden Core, that is truly our kind.”

But alas, even the most precious pearl loses its luster with age, and just as plants wither, the Golden Core, so painstakingly attained, can also fade.

He, Wang Qi, had yet to fulfill his ambitions with all that he had learned. How could he die? Especially for a Golden Core cultivator, the understanding of life and death is far more profound than that of ignorant mortals.

Counting the days and waiting for death was an agonizing prospect.

He’s here.

Chen Ping’an was no deaf man; he clearly heard the great commotion caused by the stout river demon at the foot of the towering mountain.

With his left hand holding the withered branch he had picked up, his right hand patted the Sword Nourishing Gourd. Early and Fifteenth shot out from the gourd and vanished.

His right hand slipped into his sleeve, retrieving a golden talisman crafted from a rare material, personally inscribed by Zhong Kui with a Snow Cone, a Demon Suppressing Pagoda Talisman.

This precious talisman paper, once bestowed upon the Bury River Water Goddess by the Great Spring Dynasty when the Bi You Prefecture was established, was one of the three golden talismans Zhong Kui had gifted Chen Ping’an, the Wind and Thunder Paper with a dragon claw seal as its base pattern.

Although Chen Ping’an didn’t yet know the identity of the newcomer…

But fate is such a curious thing. A Demon Suppressing Talisman written in the Bi You Prefecture was just about to be used to suppress a Bury River water demon. It was truly karmic retribution, a cycle of fate.

As for Early and Fifteenth, after Chen Ping’an unleashed the Demon Suppressing Pagoda Talisman, they were to prevent the gentleman Wang Qi from rescuing the demon before he delivered a sword strike to the newcomer.

Standing atop the mountain, the gentleman Wang Qi sighed inwardly. Truly, a single thought can give rise to both gods and demons.

He hoped this encirclement would be successful. After this, he would obtain the immortal incantation pointing directly to the Great Dao and no longer concern himself with worldly affairs. He would cultivate with a focused heart and one day become the Vice Mountain Master of the Academy, at which point he would make amends for the Great Spring Dynasty’s declining fortune.

A young Daoist wearing a lotus crown did not ride the wind far away but instead used a technique to shrink the distance between places. He quickly left the border of the Great Spring Dynasty and arrived in the southern part of the Northern Jin Dynasty. Then, he traveled south, selecting quiet, remote mountains, forests, and lakes, moving silently until he stopped at a hilltop, where his figure disappeared.

Beneath the ground, there was another world, seemingly a buried ancient path. The young Daoist walked along it for another thousand miles. The underground path had many forks, but he made his choices without hesitation.

The eerie or magnificent underground phenomena he encountered along the way did not cause the young Daoist to pause even for a moment.

Finally, he arrived before a dilapidated “Mountain Gate.” The plaque was askew, with a large piece broken off, leaving only three characters: “Defiled Other Palace.”

As he stepped inside, a faint sword aura rose sharply and then vanished.

Everywhere there were broken walls and ruins. The young Daoist’s pace slowed.

Flying Eagle Fortress, Bi You Prefecture, Fox Cub Town.

Apart from the inn where Nine Sister was, the other two places were not of great importance. To be precise, Flying Eagle Fortress had once been extremely important but was now a thing of the past, something he didn’t want to recall.

Later, during his travels in the Tongye Continent, he unintentionally planted willows everywhere. As for whether those willows would eventually provide shade, the young Daoist didn’t really care.

The key to his plan in the Tongye Continent, which he was directing, lay with the Fuzhi Sect and the Taiping Mountain’s two great demons.

However, when he discovered that an unknown fellow was repeatedly appearing on the “Great Dao” he had walked…

Once was a coincidence, twice was still a coincidence, but what about three times?

He must be cautious, lest he carelessly leave his true form at home with the mountains as a pillow, suffering too much damage to his soul, making it impossible to awaken within several centuries. Wouldn’t that cause him to miss the unprecedented opportunity to expand territory and compete for dominance? How would he then secure unimaginable fertile lands for his family and descendants?

He constantly reminded himself of this.

At the end of the road in this abandoned palace was a site resembling an ancient Dragon Locking Platform. A white ape, dressed in rags and covered in blood, sat cross-legged, its aura of ferocity and balefulness overflowing. However, the strands of sword energy, so dense they were almost tangible, were struck into nothingness by streaks of snow-white lightning that appeared whenever they tried to escape the massive stone platform.

It was the Sword Carrying White Ape of Taiping Mountain who had fled here, but now there was no longer any “sword carrying” to speak of.

The old ape asked in a raspy voice, “Why have you come here to find me? Are you not afraid that we will both die here?”

The young Daoist walked to the edge of the Dragon Locking Platform but did not climb the steps. He smiled and said, “Rest assured, an old thing back home has long made a judgment: you are blessed with good fortune, you will not die.”

The old ape asked, “What do you want to do?”

The old ape glanced at the fellow’s appearance in Daoist robes and a lotus crown, which only made it feel more and more oppressed.
Back then, on Mount Taiping, this individual, through some unknown means of disguise and amnesia, was discovered by a Golden Core cultivator from Mount Taiping. Brought up the mountain, they deceived everyone, infiltrating the Ancestral Hall and even obtaining a direct descendant’s jade token. Before the female Daoist Huang Ting, they were Mount Taiping’s most promising talent to reach the Jade Purity Realm, breaking the succession crisis. Great hopes were placed upon them.

The speed at which this person reached the Golden Core and subsequently shattered the Nascent Soul bottleneck astounded even the Ancestral Hall of Mount Taiping. They spared no expense, acquiring a powerful artifact to conceal the heavens’ secrets, preventing the Tongye Sect and Jade Tablet Sect from harboring ill intentions.

After successfully reaching the Nascent Soul Realm at a young age, and with a reputation for diligently slaying demons and monsters, one day, feeling the time was right or perhaps experiencing sudden enlightenment, they found the White Ape in the Well Prison. Revealing their horrifying true identity, they commanded the White Ape, the Mountain-Suppressing Guardian, to deliberately release a major demon from the Well Prison’s depths. After a battle that left both heavily wounded, their Nascent Soul damaged, this young Earth Immortal, not even a century old, declined into a state of decrepitude. Their vitality waned, and they decayed, appearing more desolate than a thousand-year-old Nascent Soul. Subsequently, the young Nascent Soul, citing “Heaven never bars all roads,” descended the mountain for worldly experience, ultimately engaging in a brutal battle with a Spirit-Writing Sect Golden Core cultivator. The latter, at the cost of their chance for reincarnation, summoned an avatar of an ancient demon. The young Nascent Soul perished, leaving no remains.

The jade token from the Ancestral Hall of Mount Taiping was lost, and the artifact concealing the heavens’ secrets was destroyed.

This once most talented young Daoist of Mount Taiping sat on the steps, back turned to the White Ape, smiling faintly, “Zhong Kui and Huang Ting, they must die. Especially Zhong Kui. His death is not just about the Confucian school gaining a Grand Sacrificial Wine of the Academy. After a great war, with widespread suffering, it would naturally be the time for ghosts and demons to run rampant. An old fellow back in our homeland is particularly skilled in this. If the Confucian school has a Zhong Kui, then in that scenario, our side might lose… this many of you.”

He raised his arm high, extending three fingers, emphasizing, “At least!”

Then the young Daoist curled the remaining two fingers, “Actually, it’s this many, but I was afraid of scaring you.”

The White Ape scoffed, disbelieving.

Five of itself meant five twelfth-realm swordsmen!

Did Zhong Kui, whom it had killed in three moves, possess such ability?

The young Daoist lightly patted his knees, “Now you hide like a rat, at least with some hope. The Spirit-Writing Sect one, whose meddling caused my plan to fail, deserves to be chased to the sea. Its luck is far worse than yours. Even in the sea, it can’t escape death. Now it depends on which of those two slowpokes manages to snag this big opportunity. But a twelfth-realm cultivator’s dying strike might take someone down with them. After I return home, I won’t hold his descendants accountable.”

The White Ape frowned, “The Confucian Sage who sits in the sky over Tongye Continent, even I can’t find him. Wouldn’t it be even harder for him to find you? Why are you in such a hurry to leave?”

That one of the seventy-two sages enshrined in the Confucian Temple, whose duty it was to monitor the movements of the Tongye Continent, saw the mortal realm as nothing more than scattered starlight, densely packed, all reflections of mid-fifth-realm Qi cultivators, martial arts masters, and mortal emperors and generals. Yet in the Mount Taiping battle, the Sage could only see two exploding, slightly larger fireflies before using their divine power to focus on Mount Taiping.

Gods overseeing mountains and rivers was extremely difficult.

Especially when it involved states and continents, there were invisible natural barriers.

On Mount Sui, the old scholar’s fondness for his secluded disciple was merely through incantations and deduction.

Unless the object being sought was carried by the person of interest, it would be much easier.

But if that person possessed something that obscured the heavens’ secrets, it would be as difficult as ascending to the heavens.

The young Daoist clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back against the steps, “To prevent Mount Taiping from searching for this hibiscus crown from the Ancestral Hall on my head, I deliberately damaged its quality. Originally, it could have lasted another fifty or sixty years. Now that the Confucian Sage, who has been drawing circles in the sky year after year, has come to the mortal realm ahead of schedule, it’s hard to say. That Sage who is an associate of the Confucian Temple will definitely find me. The three great demons of Tongye Continent – Foxling Town, the Spirit-Writing Sect, Mount Taiping and you, the sword-bearing White Ape. There must be a mastermind behind it all. Before they find me, I must do something else. Since the plan has failed and deviated significantly from the original expectation, I must at least disgust them a little more. For example, kill Chen Ping’an, kill Huang Ting, things like that. No rush, we’ll see how things go.”

The White Ape remained silent.

These schemes were truly not its forte.

The young Daoist smiled faintly, “Only by being found can I retain a sliver of a chance of victory. Of course, I can’t let them find me too easily, or the Confucian school will be suspicious. The Confucian Sage must struggle to find me, only then will it be seamless. They must unravel it bit by bit, and the deaths of the young man named Chen Ping’an or later, Huang Ting, will be the threads. Otherwise, if I slink back home in disgrace, I will have truly lost everything. Upon returning, I will face suffering, perhaps being banished to that mountain range, left to fend for myself, and then serving as forced labor for that blind man. Just thinking about it makes me worried.”

The White Ape, upon thinking of that ancient legend of the barbaric realm, also felt a chill.

The young Daoist clicked his tongue, “I do miss the taste of home. Here, I’m too restrained, having to guard against the Confucian Sage patrolling above and wary of that mystical Master of the Observing Dao Temple. It’s very tiring. If it weren’t for the latter, my plans in Tongye Continent would be much easier. I wouldn’t need to deliberately avoid him. Huang Ting is fortunate, having my failure as a lesson, to be thrown by our hot-tempered Ancestor into the Dao Temple. If possible, I would really like to meet that smelly Daoist priest…”

His words abruptly stopped.

At the dilapidated temple, Pei Qian suddenly covered her eyes, rolling on the ground, light seemingly bursting out from between her fingers.

Moments later, near the Dragon-Locking Platform of the underground palace here, a tall, old Daoist appeared, sneering, “Oh?”

On the sea west of Tongye Continent.

A great demon, revealing its thousand-zhang true form, stirred up towering waves, fleeing frantically.

Several figures followed closely behind, riding the wind.

At sea, a swordsman was feeling irritable.
He harbored no desire to serve as some blasted Dao Protector for anyone, yet deep down, he worried that the chaos engulfing the Tongye Continent would ultimately engulf the young man upon whom that Little Qi had placed all his hopes.

Unwilling to reveal himself in the mortal realm, he instead chose to roam the seas, riding his sword to soothe his troubled heart.

He lingered, wavering in his decision.

Coincidentally, the Sword Cultivator was named Zuo You, or “Left Right”.

He happened upon the injured Great Demon who had wisely changed its escape route.

But his mood was utterly wretched, so he simply offered a single sword strike.

A single sword strike that annihilated it.