Chapter 133: Sword Intent Unbound
“…Indeed.”
“If one is but an ant, what freedom can there be?”
“But…”
“Do insects and ants truly have no path to survival?”
For some reason, Shen Huai’s words intertwined with the screams and wails rising from the depths of hell, reaching her ears.
Faintly, they sparked a tiny flame within Song Yan’s heart.
The ink-black darkness of hell had already soaked into his limbs and bones. His skin cracked like clay, as though he would transform into a vengeful ghost at any moment and merge into the painting.
Yet within the Town-Dao Sword Treasury, the hum of the small Dao Heart sword grew ever clearer.
No…
No.
Heaven never seals off all paths!
This was nothing but a painting!
Perhaps everything before him was false, nothing more than ink illusions conjured from the painting.
Where was Xiao He?
There was no trace of Xiao He’s warmth or presence against her chest.
Right. This was only a painting.
But even knowing all this, what could he do?
The pain of the corrupted ink consuming his body was real.
The exhaustion that clouded his thoughts and threatened to drag his will into oblivion was real.
The dark ghosts gnawing at him from the depths of hell were also real.
“There must be some method to break free…”
“There must be some power I can borrow…”
“There must be someone who can help me…”
Suddenly!
Song Yan’s thoughts halted.
Power? Help?
Why was it that in such a desperate situation, his first instinct was to rely on the aid of others, on the support of external forces?
Why not rely on himself?
Looking back, in every life-or-death crisis Song Yan had faced, there had always been some form of assistance.
At Silent Valley, he had joined hands with Wan Songran to slay Wang Xi.
At Peach Blossom Wharf, he had received Senior Sister Qin’s protection and the combined efforts of Li Qingfeng and Gu Qingqing.
Within the painted world, Rong and Wu, the married couple, had bought him time.
He had believed in many people and many things.
But it seemed he had never believed in just one thing.
The sword path.
At this moment, a glimmer of understanding arose in his heart.
Along his journey, he had always treated the sword path he cultivated as merely a powerful offensive technique.
Not as the true Great Dao he sought.
Perhaps…
This was why he had been unable to comprehend sword intent and form his natal flying sword.
How could a true sword cultivator not believe in the flying sword in his hand?
Thinking of this, he let out a soft sigh in his heart.
“But is it too late to realize this now…”
Suddenly, the sound of a heartbeat reached his ears.
Thump… thump… thump…
Beneath the silent Town-Dao Sword Treasury, the seed of the sword path began to pulse gently.
As if it had started breathing again.
The crack on the seed’s shell was slowly splitting open.
The crack grew wider and wider, until in the next instant, a tender sprout emerged from within.
At the same time, a sharp surge of spiritual insight burst forth!
The insight was delicate, like a newborn, but it quickly flourished!
Song Yan felt the mysterious transformation within the Town-Dao Sword Treasury and could not help but be shaken.
“This is…”
“Sword intent?!”
In truth, for a sword cultivator to form his natal flying sword was neither easy nor difficult.
In ancient times, the reasons sword cultivators could not condense their natal flying swords were varied and strange.
The Dao Heart stems from desire; sword intent stems from will.
Some sword cultivators harbored grand desires. Immortality. Invincibility under heaven…
Some sword cultivators had simple desires. Brewing wine with pine flowers. Boiling tea with spring water…
Some were obsessed with swordsmanship, yet their Dao Heart was bewildered.
Some had a clear Dao Heart, yet their will was undefined.
It was often a mere difference of a single thought.
Yet many times, one could only grasp it between life and death.
As the aura of sword intent grew stronger and stronger, a small sword gradually took shape above the sprout.
The Dao Heart’s manifestation began drifting slowly toward the tender sprout.
Finally, it merged with the spiritual insight of the sword intent.
In an instant.
The scene within the Town-Dao Sword Treasury transformed.
Mountains and rivers, grass and trees. Birds, beasts, insects, and fish.
The sun, moon, and stars. The four seas and eight wilds.
Amidst the ink, Song Yan opened his eyes.
The terrifying hell scroll still reflected in his pupils, but there was no longer any trace of fear in his gaze.
His body’s sword qi surged, and the ink receded like a tide, revealing skin smooth as jade.
The ghosts filling the sky vanished in an instant. The eighteen hells shattered.
A half-virtual, half-real flying sword leaped forth from the Town-Dao Sword Treasury.
It hovered before him.
…
Outside the Avici Hell.
Sheng Nian stood among the crowd of demonic cultivators, gazing at the spot where Song Yan had vanished, his brow furrowed.
“Old Demon, this is a Transformation God ink treasure. Are you certain Ah Yan is still alive?”
The demonic voice within his heart echoed: “Heh, what Transformation God ink treasure…”
“A painting drawn by a mortal—once he becomes an immortal or a sovereign, would that make it an immortal’s ink treasure?”
Sheng Nian froze.
The old demon paused, then continued: “However, this person entered the Dao through painting. Though it was composed in his youth, there is indeed some skill in it.”
“As for your fellow townsman…”
“He appears to have obtained a sword cultivator’s legacy…”
Sheng Nian was stunned. “A sword cultivator?”
“Indeed.”
“From North Watch Mountain to Changping, one can see that this person holds no concept of the so-called righteous or demonic paths.”
“He has his own standard for judging right and wrong.”
“A person like this, aside from being suited as a demonic cultivator, is indeed also well-suited for the sword cultivator’s path.”
“Mm…”
The old demon paused for a moment. “Right now, he has indeed not yet died.”
“But whether he can safely pass through this tribulation depends on his own fortune.”
Song Yan’s death stirred no ripples.
The elders of the six sects, along with the Yellow Spring Path and the Corpse Bone Abyss, continued their attempts to refine.
Shen Yu’s emerald ring on his fingertip flashed continuously, helping him carve a path through the Avici Hell at the fastest speed.
“Hmm?”
The demonic ape Hu Rifei suddenly looked toward the spot where Song Yan had disappeared. In truth, all the demon cultivators of the Corpse Bone Abyss had seen it.
A small snake was slowly floating into view.
The small green snake had its eyes closed, whether unconscious or asleep.
It was enveloped in a special halo of light, but everyone present could sense its unique demonic aura.
Li Qingfeng murmured: “Xiao He…”
The demonic ape spoke with interest: “Dong Zi, go bring it to me.”
“Yes.”
From among the demons, a slightly smaller ape stepped forward.
Following the path refined by Hu Rifei’s demonic energy, he walked into the Avici Hell and approached the small green snake.
“What’s going on…”
At this moment, Dai Rui muttered to himself in confusion.
Fu Xiao glanced sideways. “What?”
Perhaps because of Xiao He’s appearance, regardless of which faction they belonged to, people began to notice something amiss.
“That Song Yan’s remains…”
“Why haven’t they appeared yet?”
Nearly every cultivator dragged into the reflection of hell turned into a pile of white bones within a few breaths.
Then they were absorbed by the Bone Mountain, becoming part of it.
Yet that person’s corpse still had not appeared.
“…”
Only when someone pointed it out did Shen Yu also notice this.
His brow furrowed slightly.
When everyone learned that the source of the celestial phenomenon at Shiguping was the ink treasure of a Transformation God cultivator, they had all subconsciously concluded one thing.
That the Qi Refining Stage cultivators trapped within, unable to escape, were certainly dead.
Indeed, from the current situation, that appeared to be the case.
Every cultivator dragged into the reflection of hell transformed into a pile of white bones in an extremely short time.
Except for the cultivator named Song Yan who had just been taken.
Where were his remains?
Presumably, there was nothing left.
In the skies outside the boundary, silence prevailed. Each cultivator was lost in their own thoughts.
But at this very moment—
A sharp, piercing aura suddenly surged throughout the entire Avici Hell.
“What is this?!”
The cultivators cried out in shock, looking into the boundary with astonishment.
“Sword qi?! Impossible! How can there be such fierce sword qi?”
Xu Ziqing had been refining a path while plotting how to slaughter the entire Xuan Yuan Sect right here.
Until this burst of sharpness interrupted his thoughts.
“Is this… sword intent?”
He could not be certain, but it felt extremely familiar to him.
For it was as a child, standing by the river, that he had closely felt the sword strike belonging to Daoist Li Jun, which had convinced him to join the Eastern Abyss Sect.
Right now, this feeling was too similar.
But whose sword intent was this?
Xiao He seemed to have felt this aura as well. She slowly opened her eyes, but did not see the person she wanted to see.
Instead, a demonic ape stood not far away.
The demonic ape called Dong Zi also sensed this sharpness. Driven by instinct, he wanted to seize the small snake as quickly as possible and bring it back to the Demon Lord.
His large hand reached out, grasping toward Xiao He.
The snake instinctively tried to retreat and flee, but within the reflection of hell, movement was difficult.
“Come here!”
Demonic energy surged. The demonic ape Dong Zi’s hand was already close at hand.
Hummm—
At this very moment! A streak of ink-white light shot in from an unknown direction!
Its speed was far too fast—one could not even make out its shape!
The ink-white light swept past the demonic ape.
Demonic ape Dong Zi felt only a chill, followed by a piercing, bone-deep agony radiating from his arm.
“AAGH!!!”
The tough fur and bones that demon beasts prided themselves on were as fragile as tofu before this light.
The demonic ape’s arm was severed cleanly, falling into the ink-black darkness.
Warm demonic blood gushed from the ape’s right shoulder.
He collapsed to the ground, instinctively clutching his arm, writhing, convulsing, and twitching.
The cultivators outside the boundary were all startled by this light.
They looked closely.
The light turned and slowly came to a stop before the small green snake.
It was a slender flying sword!
At the same time, within the ink, a figure seemed to be faintly emerging!
At this moment.
Within the Avici Hell, the ink churned, as though something was stirring this ghost domain.
Even Jin Tianya, who had remained expressionless all along, now seemed to have sensed something, revealing a look of disbelief.
Before Xiao He, beside the flying sword.
The ink surged without warning, then slowly receded.
A figure appeared before everyone’s eyes.
A white robe, unstained by a speck of dust. An ancient, rectangular sword case slung across his back.
The flying sword flickered and vanished into the sword case behind him.
He raised his gaze slightly.
It was none other than Song Yan.
“It’s him! He’s not dead?!”
“How is that possible?!”
Exclamations erupted one after another outside the boundary.
Xu Ziqing and Li Qingfeng stood frozen.
Shen Yu’s brow was tightly knit, staring fixedly at him, eyes flickering with equal disbelief.
Cong Yu Zhen watched the “resurrected” youth with great interest.
All the cultivators of the six sects, the demons of the Corpse Bone Abyss, and the demonic cultivators of the Yellow Spring Path asked themselves the same question.
“How was he able to survive?”
“How did he do it?”
Disaster is what fortune leans upon; fortune is where disaster hides.
Who can know where the extremes lie?
If not for this brush with life and death, when would he ever have realized this?
Song Yan could not answer. But now, he had more important things to do.
His gaze shifted to a nearby location.
Shen Huai was also shaken with lingering fear. Being within the Avici Hell, she naturally knew its horrors.
Ji Chuanqiao had not lasted even a single breath before turning into white bones inside.
Damn it!!!
How had this Song Yan survived!?
At this moment, her eyes met Song Yan’s cold gaze.
He raised his hand slightly, and a wisp of spiritual light slowly coalesced at his fingertip.
Sharp and blinding, impossible to face directly.
Such a blatant and undisguised motion made Shen Huai urgently activate her spiritual energy, summoning several defensive artifacts and spiritual talismans.
They guarded her body.
Shen Yu knitted his brow tightly and shouted: “Song Yan! What are you doing?!”
“If you are not dead, come out of there immediately!”
What am I doing?
Song Yan’s lips parted and closed, answering his question succinctly.
“Killing someone.”
Hummm—
Whether Qi Refining Stage or Foundation Establishment.
In the eyes of every cultivator present, the streak of sword qi at his fingertip vanished the instant it was released.
Almost simultaneously, it appeared before Shen Huai.
Protective spiritual talismans. Protective artifacts. Defensive spells.
She had exhausted every means at her disposal…
But.
What was going on?
Before this streak of sword light, why did all these defenses seem not to exist at all?!
In this instant, time seemed to slow.
She watched in terror as all her methods crumbled in an instant.
Fortunately.
This terror did not actually last very long.
Because in the eyes of onlookers, only a single instant passed before her body was pierced through by the sword qi.
Shen Huai stared blankly at the blood hole in front of her, then collapsed to the ground with a thud.
Song Yan walked toward her at a leisurely pace.
His body’s sword qi surged, and the grotesque ghosts and black hands of the hell reflection seemed to vanish around him.
On Shen Huai’s chest, a dark green spiritual light slowly pulsed, attempting to mend this fatal wound.
She saw a figure appear before her.
With great effort, she raised her stiff head and met Song Yan’s gaze.
He formed a sword with his fingers, condensing an ordinary streak of sword qi at his fingertip.
Then he grabbed Shen Huai by her long hair and lifted her up.
Shen Yu’s deep, threatening voice came from outside: “Song Yan! I advise you not to court your own destruction!”
“You…”
Sshh.
The sword qi swept past without warning. Head and body separated in an instant.
The despair in Shen Huai’s eyes froze on her temperatureless face.
Blood gushed forth.
Song Yan wiped his hand casually, taking her Cosmos Bag and the pendant at her chest.
Then he turned her severed head around.
And gently placed it back onto the smooth, blood-spraying neck.
He lowered his gaze…
Like a Bodhisattva who could not bear to witness the suffering of the world.