Chapter 21: Sword Cultivator
May ninth, the borderlands of the State of Chu. Autumn Leaf Mountain Range, Serene Valley.
On the eastern cliff face stood several clusters of ancient architecture. This was the staging ground for the three great sects.
The disciples assigned to guard the valley and those carrying out missions lived here when not on duty.
The Council Pavilion. Clarity Hall.
A sound-isolating formation muffled all noise from the surroundings. Wang Xi stared coldly at the spiritual talismans and magical artifacts floating before him, his expression one of disdain.
“I am already at the eighth layer of the Qi Refining Stage. To kill a few outer disciples of minor sects at the fifth layer, asking me to lie in ambush is one thing… but do I really need these things?”
He raised his eyes, a flash of anger appearing in his gaze, clearly feeling slighted.
Shen Yu furrowed his brow. “Naturally you won’t need them. But you know, the faster this is over, the more time we have… to make it look like an accident.”
Shen Huai stood beside Shen Yu in silence.
Shen Yu continued, “What I want is not for you to fight two opponents and win a glorious victory. What I want is for you to strike with thunderous force and silently wipe out the outer disciples of both sects.”
Like brushing away an ant while scratching an itch.
“Without these, I can still—”
Wang Xi clenched his fists, his jaw tight, as if struck by some thought.
Why does everyone look down on me? What Zhou Liu can do, I, Wang Xi… can do just as well!
Shen Huai watched this unfold and sighed softly.
They had entered the sect at the same time, both possessing dual spiritual root aptitudes. Yet Senior Brother Zhou Liu had already reached the ninth layer of the Qi Refining Stage and was preparing to advance to the perfect tenth layer.
They were all proud young men. No one could accept such an outcome.
And so Wang Xi had become as he was now—resenting his master, resenting his fellow disciples, resenting the unfairness of the world.
Then he suddenly grew quiet, his gaze returning to calm, his voice cold.
“Understood.”
Shen Huai opened her mouth to add a reminder: “If there are other disciples—”
“Kill them all.”
Wang Xi’s voice was devoid of emotion as he cut her off.
In his view, the Xuanyuan Sect was nothing less than an emperor among the cultivators of the State of Chu. Whichever spiritual vein or spirit mountain caught their eye, they simply took it. What need was there for subterfuge?
Shen Huai was precocious. What she saw was actually clearer than what Wang Xi perceived.
The filthy transactions between sects—trading the interests of their own disciples for benefits—all took this very form.
However, the Dongyuan Sect was special. This process had to be followed, and it had to be followed clearly.
“Hum…”
A voice-transmission talisman activated. A disciple outside reported news.
“Elder Shen, the disciples of the Dongyuan Sect and the Lingfu Sect have arrived.”
“Let us go. I shall meet them.”
…
Song Yan followed Lu Zi Ye, bringing up the rear among the disciples, and descended from the sect’s flying vessel, the Wind and Cloud Spirit Ship.
As a bitter cultivator who participated in almost no social activities, he did not know a single person here.
It was only on the spirit ship just now that the senior brother and junior sister sitting on either side of him had chattered away incessantly, and Song Yan had somehow gotten to know the two of them.
Shao Si Chao, sixth layer of the Qi Refining Stage.
Gu Qing Qing, fifth layer of the Qi Refining Stage, a disciple of the Lianyou Peak.
What was special about the Dongyuan Sect was that the cave abodes of female cultivators were not divided by inner or outer disciple status—all were arranged on the inner sect’s Lianyou Peak.
Everything else was the same as for male cultivators.
The other disciple was named Tang Lin. Song Yan did not know him either, though Shao Si Chao would occasionally exchange a few words with him.
Come to think of it, Senior Brother Shao’s manner of speaking and behavior seemed oddly familiar to Song Yan.
He had a faint suspicion that this was the very stall cultivator who had been selling forbidden books at the night market that day.
But he had no proof.
“Elder Xu, I hope you have been well since we last met.”
“Ha ha, same as always… but your Lingfu Sect, I hear you have taken in quite a few promising new disciples lately…”
What a coincidence.
The members of the Lingfu Sect appeared to have just arrived at Serene Valley as well.
Elder Xu Zi Qing, leading the Dongyuan Sect’s delegation, exchanged pleasantries with Elder Zhou of the Lingfu Sect. Shen Yu flew over from a distance, with Shen Huai and Wang Xi at her side.
Song Yan was not familiar with any of the others, but in his eyes, this elder and disciples of the Xuanyuan Sect were actually the most recognizable. They had visited the Pill Workshop before and even delivered lectures.
“You two elders, I apologize for not welcoming you sooner. Please do not take offense.”
When facing Shen Yu, Xu Zi Qing seemed oddly reticent, offering only a smile.
The elders had matters to discuss. The younger generation followed the arrangements of Serene Valley and settled into their respective quarters.
Among the three sects, some cultivators were already acquainted and took this opportunity to reunite.
Some drank and shared laughter, while others… enjoyed a pleasant evening under the moon.
No one came to chat with Song Yan.
However, there were advantages to being a loner.
With no one to disturb him, he could finally read through “A Complete Compendium of Immortal Curiosities,” the miscellaneous collection of wonders he had purchased for two spirit stones at the night market.
These past days, Song Yan had been entirely immersed in cultivating his divine sense and condensing that “Sword Dao True Essence,” and had not had time to read it.
“South of the Southern Sea, there is still land. On that land lies a kingdom of the Longbo people, where giants measuring a thousand zhang in height dwell…”
It was said that in ancient times, east of the ancient Southern Sea, there was a great natural chasm the ancients called “Guixu.”
Within Guixu stood five immortal mountains, and immortals dwelled upon each of them.
The five immortal mountains were carried upon the backs of fifteen great Ao turtles, maintaining the distances between them.
Who would have thought that a Longbo ancient kingdom lay south of the Southern Sea, its people all a thousand zhang tall? One of these giants, with nothing better to do, fished up six of the great Ao turtles carrying the immortal mountains. Thus two of the five mountains sank and vanished without a trace, leaving only three.
The Celestial Lord in heaven was furious at this and transformed the Longbo kingdom into a land of exile. He cast immortal spells to make their bodies shrink with each passing generation.
“…”
Song Yan fell silent…
People a thousand zhang tall?
But Song Yan was not here to question or correct anything. His divine sense continued scanning downward.
Skipping past certain legends and myths, he finally found what he was looking for.
In ancient times, Sword Dao cultivators were very pure.
“The Natal Flying Sword is something that can only be obtained by refining one’s Dao Heart and comprehending Sword Intent.”
What were called sword cultivators and natal flying swords in the modern cultivation world were merely cultivators skilled in using sword control techniques for combat and the primary magical artifacts they wielded.
But ancient sword cultivators—sword caskets, sword sheaths, sword gourds—everything existed solely to nurture that single Natal Flying Sword within the casket.
Some abandoned magical artifacts and formations. Some abandoned talismans and runes. There were even extremists who abandoned spiritual qi and the physical body itself, seeking only to comprehend supreme Sword Intent and heavenly sword techniques.
The Great Dao is simplest. To slay the enemy, only one sword is needed.
Reading this made Song Yan’s blood surge with excitement.
But…
“Dao Heart…?”
“Sword Intent?”
These ineffable, mystical concepts seemed utterly beyond his reach in this lifetime, given his mediocre aptitude.
He took a deep breath and forced down the longing and impulse surging in his heart.
At this moment, within the Dantian sea of Song Yan’s energy center, a sharp and peerlessly refined strand of spiritual energy hung silently.
If he submerged his divine sense into it, he would find that beyond the sounds of spiritual energy and blood coursing through his limbs and bones, there was also a faint yet piercing hum of a sword.
“Sword cultivator…”
The surroundings of his dwelling were quiet. Song Yan closed his eyes and carefully felt the aura of what was called the “Sword Dao True Essence.”
“…”
As if guided by some unseen force, he gently raised his right palm. The Sword Dao True Essence within his Dantian began to dissolve, converging at the tips of his right hand’s fingers.
He pressed his middle and index fingers together, and that sharp, piercing aura whistled at his fingertips.
“Hummm—”
The sword essence gradually began to solidify. Only when a stinging pain shot through his fingertips did Song Yan snap back to his senses and hastily disperse the sword essence from his fingertips.
That single strand of sharp “spiritual qi” recondensed within his Dantian, though it was slightly smaller than before.
“If this Sword Dao True Essence were unleashed upon oneself, even with a protective barrier of spiritual energy, it would truly be certain death…”
Nearly a month of condensing spiritual energy had yielded only this single strike’s worth of power.
But its might had not disappointed Song Yan.