Chapter 51: Southern Border Demon Well, Reunion with an Old Enemy

The Human Realm had barely caught its breath for two months before the Southern Border erupted in strange disturbances again.

Deep within the Ten Thousand Great Mountains, an ancient well spewed black mist.

Half-human, half-beast Demon Puppets emerged from the mist, attacking villages and abducting the young and strong.

The Southern Border Wu Tribe sent word to the Council Hall, stating that the well was named the Demon Well, originally one of the ancient seals; now the seal had loosened, suspected to be the Upper Realm using the Heavenly Patrol's blood to pollute the earth veins and awaken old demons.

The Anti-Heaven Bureau immediately dispatched people to investigate.

This time, Jiang Che decided to go himself.

Xie Tingxue was the first to oppose it.

"Your injuries have only recovered by fifty percent."

Jiang Che said, "I will not draw my sword."

Xie Tingxue looked at him.

Jiang Che helplessly said, "I will try not to draw my sword."

Chen Shanhe also disagreed: "The terrain of the Southern Border is complex, with witch poison and miasma everywhere; it is unsuitable for the Young Master to recover his injuries."

Jiang Che said, "Precisely because it is complex, we must go and see."

Xie Wuya pondered, "If the Demon Well is truly related to the Heavenly Patrol's blood, I fear it is not merely an ordinary calamity."

Jiang Che nodded: "So I am going."

Finally, Jiang Che led Xie Tingxue, five hundred of the Green Blade Camp, a Southern Border guide, and Lin Xiaoman's History Camp squad southward.

Chen Shanhe remained at Tian Duan Cliff, and before departure, he urged and instructed repeatedly:

"Young Master, if you can avoid fighting, do not fight."

Jiang Che smiled: "I know."

"If you can let others fight, let others fight."

"I know."

"If you truly must fight, call Miss Xie first."

Xie Tingxue's expression remained blank.

Jiang Che coughed: "Uncle Chen, that's enough."

The Southern Border is completely different from the Northern Border.

The Northern Border is snow and wind.

The Southern Border is rain and mist.

Dense forests blocked out the sky and sun; the mud beneath their feet was deep and sinking, and the air was filled with a mixed scent of rotting leaves and flowers.

On the third day after entering the mountains, the convoy was ambushed.

Dozens of Demon Puppets pounced from the tree canopy, their skin scaled, their claws sharp as knives.

Jiang Che did not draw his sword.

The Sword Cultivators of the Green Blade Camp quickly formed a formation; Xie Tingxue froze the three zhang of miasma ahead with a single sword strike, forcing out the hidden Demon Puppets.

The battle ended quickly.

Lin Xiaoman squatted beside the Demon Puppet corpse, recording.

"The Demon Puppets are wearing human clothes."

Xie Tingxue said, "They were originally the villagers who were abducted."

Everyone's expressions grew heavy.

Jiang Che squatted down to inspect the Demon Puppet's forehead.

There was a very faint golden pattern there.

The aura of the Heavenly Patrol.

It seems the Southern Border Demon Well is indeed related to the Upper Realm.

After continuing deeper, they arrived at the Witch Tribe Village.

The Village Chief was an old woman with white hair, named Apo Luo.

Upon seeing Jiang Che, her first words were:

"You carry the Heaven Blood Curse."

Jiang Che frowned: "What?"

Apo Luo leaned on her staff and approached, pointing at the space between Jiang Che's eyebrows.

"You have cut the blood of the Upper Realm; the blood of the Upper Realm has also remembered you."

Xie Tingxue's face changed slightly: "What will happen?"

Apo Luo said, "The Demon Well will recognize him as the key."

Jiang Che understood.

This was why he had to come.

It was not that he sought the Demon Well.

It was that the Demon Well would seek him.

That night, the Witch Village was attacked.

Demon Puppets surged like a tide from all directions of the dense forest.

The Green Blade Camp and the Wu Clan warriors fought side by side.

Jiang Che stood before the village gate; the Green Bamboo Sword remained unsheathed, and he used only his finger as a sword to point and kill the Demon Puppets that slipped through the net.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out from the black mist.

"Jiang Che, long time no see."

Jiang Che's eyes turned cold.

The black mist dispersed, and a one-armed man slowly stepped out.

His face was pale, with a golden pattern between his brows, and his gaze was venomous.

Lu Chen.

Lu Heng's son.

Back then, before the Cold Prefecture Prince's Manor, Jiang Che had clearly sealed his throat with a single sword strike; Lu Chen should have been dead.

Yet now, he stood in the black mist of the Southern Border, half man, half ghost.

Xie Tingxue drew her sword.

Jiang Che raised his hand to stop her.

"You are still alive?"

Lu Chen smiled savagely.

"Thanks to the Worship Heaven Sect, I cannot die."

He tore open his robe; there was no heart in his chest, only a mass of gold-black Demon Blood beating.

"You killed my father and destroyed my Lu Family."

"Now the Upper Realm has given me a second life."

"Jiang Che, this time it is my turn to kill you."

Jiang Che looked at him; his eyes held no anger, only coldness.

"Your father invited the Barbarians into the pass, causing the deaths of thirty thousand common people of Han Zhou."

"I did not destroy the Lu Family."

"You rotted from within yourselves."

Lu Chen roared, his body suddenly swelling, transforming into a half-demon form.

Sharp claws tore through the air, lunging straight at Jiang Che.

Jiang Che did not draw the Green Bamboo Sword.

He took one step forward and extended two fingers.

Sword Qi struck Lu Chen's sharp claws.

Boom!

Lu Chen staggered back several steps, his face showing disbelief.

"You do not use a sword, yet possess such Sword Intent?"

Jiang Che said, "I have you to thank for that."

Lu Chen froze.

Jiang Che continued, "If not for you rotten people, I would not have reached this day."

Lu Chen went completely mad, attacking again.

Xie Tingxue was about to act, but Jiang Che shook his head.

"This is an old debt from Han Zhou."

"I will handle it."

In the rainy night of the Southern Border, Jiang Che used his finger as a sword.

Old enemies met again.

Yet he was no longer the youth who had borrowed a sword to kill at the Prince's Manor gates back then.