Chapter 380

But on the other side, Wu Dong had already drawn the long sword from the platform.

He raised his eyes to look at Qu Zhu in the air, and Qu Zhu was also looking down; a vivid stream of blood splashed and circled the black robe. This Shadow-Face Sima's expression was indifferent, and he lightly released the sword hilt in his hand.

The opening of the 【Lotus Heart Decisive Sword】 is actually very simple, or rather, when Qu Zhu carved it that night, this array had always been in an activated state. And when two people without weapons injected Qi into the weapons on both sides, the great array completed its activation.

This should have been an absolutely pure dueling platform, but both Mystic Gate masters had their own ways of bringing in their swords, and Qu Zhu had not intended to use this array to deal with Wu Dong.

It was just that now, he had always known this Crane Inspector was a difficult opponent, yet he still had not expected him to have such absolute courage to activate this array.

He clearly did not understand array arts very well, and he clearly knew the enemy's array path was divine.

But everything had happened after all. Qu Zhu thought for a moment of the many things that would follow, his eyes dark and quiet.

Like a circle instantly completing its connection, the laws cast by heaven, earth, spirit, and mystery completely descended upon this space. The long sword with the pine hilt in Qu Zhu's hand was sent back to its scabbard with a "clang," and the Jade Tiger left on the ground also swept back into the old man's waist.

All weapons not belonging to this place were cast dead in their scabbards, and Mystic Qi was also completely shielded. Qu Zhu fell back to the ground, back against the cliff wall, his black robe slowly drooping.

Meng Li had already gripped the hilt of his blade tightly in the void.

Gray eyes looked straight at the play-mask, and the two straight weapons crossed; Wu Dong's sword deeply penetrated Qu Zhu's abdomen, and Qu Zhu's scabbard tip shattered an unknown number of Wu Dong's ribs.

Qu Zhu took advantage of this slash to break free from Wu Dong's sword edge, landed, and coughed twice lightly; a bright streak of blood flowed from under the play-mask onto his neck.

But the vivid play-mask remained forever indifferent. He only glanced at Meng Li, whose figure had emerged from the air; the young man had already submerged into nothingness again. He did not pursue this momentary hesitation, but turned around again, and the sheathed sword whistled from his waist.

Qu Zhu clearly had not supported this blade; his left arm tilted down with the momentum of the blade, and his figure also tilted, but the eerie, cold play-mask still stared silently at Meng Li.

With the most clanging sound of metal clashing, under the rolling blade Qi, the black robe shattered like residual ash, followed by the skin that was cut and flew apart, and then the pitch-black surging iron. At a glance, it looked like an insect nest, with fine silver patterns outlined on it, trembling brightly before this blade.

Without any explanation, anyone could now see the reversal of the situation—the wonder-art cultivator with astonishing sword talent, whose strange power in his body almost made him invincible in the Life Vein Realm; the Immortal Terrace Crane Inspector who had fought for forty years in strange cases and perilous affairs, who repeatedly challenged the authority of 【Visiting the Palace】 while lagging behind by a distinct realm.

Qu Zhu clearly knew how he would judge the blade strike, and also clearly knew which weakness he had left for him.

The lightness and folding of 【Flowing Clouds in the Sleeve】 lost its due wonder. The iron rod in his hand went according to the expected trend. Qu Zhu rigidly twisted it with Qi, but the sword move was cut off here, and a gap was inevitably exposed.

Qu Zhu's figure tilted first and then turned; a stream of blood was already left in the air. Without the support of Mystic Qi, his perception and reaction were indeed much slower, and the *General Classic of Dao Void and Bright Reality* finally revealed its mysterious and unpredictable true face.

Meng Li only reacted after half a breath, his heart falling into an ice cellar in an instant.

Meng Li slowly revealed his figure, his face pale as he pointed to seal the sword wound on his chest and abdomen, looking coldly at the person before him.

Meng Li forcibly interrupted his escape into the void, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. He threw himself forward to choke this blade light, yet that play-mask was clearly still watching Wu Dong, but the blade shook like a ghost, submerging into his shoulder socket.

Now everyone was standing on the same level, and the two allowed weapons were all held in their hands.

When he appeared again, he poked the blade out from the cliff wall behind Qu Zhu!

The strange art absolute classic he bore was always the role that struck when the enemy was most vulnerable and caught off guard, but this time Meng Li went first, his cold, angry expression identical to that rainy night in Bowang.

Wu Dong's extremely fierce killing sword arrived at this time; Qu Zhu leaped and tilted, the cold sword tip facing his throat.

Wu Dong's attack suddenly became fierce; Qu Zhu only narrowed his eyes to look back, and the violent Qi immediately poured out along the sword scabbard. The vivid play-mask stared at Wu Dong, once again decisively using killing against killing.

Two bright blades reflected and crossed; Qu Zhu held the blade horizontally at his throat, and Wu Dong's sword tip slid across the mirror-like blade body, leaving only a lingering sharpness and a straight, faint mark.

Wu Dong delivered a sword strike at the fastest speed, and Qu Zhu also leaned to block at the fastest speed; a corner of the black robe was shaved off in the flying, and with a clanging sound of metal clashing, behind him, Meng Li had already condensed a blade strike of "Ultimate Reality."

The blade was like a flying shadow.

The gray-white eyes lifted coldly, casting a gaze from the billowing shoulder of the black robe toward Meng Li.

The old man had indeed said, "I will give you one chance to kill him," but Meng Li had not expected it to be in such a near-tragic way. The long blade in his hand had accumulated extreme power; he gritted his teeth, his long hair flying, and the exploding Qi dissipated in billowing waves around his body.

The vivid, complex play-mask stared indifferently at the void behind him. The moment Meng Li lifted his blade to break through the air, the hand reaching out from the black robe had already reached toward him.

But this time, when that subtle node arrived, neither of them stopped their swords.

And the next moment, what rose from the wound was not a sharp stinging pain, but a heavy tearing. The blade had changed into a slash without holding back any strength; the sound of air explosion burst in the air. Amidst the violent shaking of his internal organs, his spine had heavily hit the stone wall, and blood "puffed" out from his mouth. He wanted to slightly control his falling body, but the Qi in his meridians had completely lost control.

Behind him, Wu Dong had already used the fastest speed to charge with his sword, and Meng Li also collected his blade to escape into the void at the first moment, but it was still too late.

And the next moment, Wu Dong's other hand gripped the end of this sword scabbard that was almost entering his flesh.

Even if Mystic Qi was not there, the spirit body and jade marrow remained as before.

This iron-condensed arm gripped his blade edge backhanded.

As if that was trash that could finally be discarded, and at the moment of letting go, the violent Qi flow disconnected, and he unilaterally stopped his control over Wu Dong. Wu Dong would absolutely not give up this opportunity; the long sword that lost its restraint instantly created a heavy wound in Qu Zhu's abdomen, but Qu Zhu had already turned his head as if he did not care.

It was a pity that this was no longer a "sword."

However, no matter what, what was discarded to meet the attack was only an empty arm. In the Life Vein Realm, facing an opponent who was also an Eighth Life, receiving a blade with empty hands was originally a delusion.

*Guangcheng Cinnabar Sword* · 【Flowing Clouds in the Sleeve】

Raising his hand to wipe the blood from his palm, and gripping the blade hilt again, Meng Li transformed into nothingness once more.

One blade and one scabbard crossed sharply, both heading toward each other's throats. The two stared coldly at each other, making an indifferent decision never to retreat, and at a sufficiently subtle node, they simultaneously abandoned their moves. But after Qu Zhu turned his sword, his arm suddenly tightened.

The young genius who practiced the three chapters of blade and sword—under the *Classic of Dao Void*, his strikes were always as unpredictable as gods and ghosts. It was a pity that those blades and swords—especially the blade—were paths that the same genius had walked thirty years ago.

A sword technique full of Dao intent; purely in terms of exquisiteness, it was enough to be listed in the top five of Kongdong. At this time, when this sword turned to in front of him, it happened to connect with Wu Dong's silent and tricky sword strike.

Qu Zhu's body was as agile as a rising dragon; he pulled the blade, lifted his body, and his tattered black robe flew like an owl. He leaned backward, and amidst the sound of bone cracking, one leg heavily smashed into the young man's abdomen.

The long blade left his hand.

However, at this instant, Qu Zhu suddenly discarded the sheathed sword in his hand without any concern.

But... that was his left arm.

Wu Dong's expression did not change in the slightest.

The gray-white eyes remained pale and cold; he only lightly took a breath and charged up with his sword again.

The battlefield with only two people left erupted in decisive bloodshed.

There was no more probing or entanglement; each regarded the enemy as themselves, never needing to expect the other to fall into a trap, much less dreaming that he would be confused at some moment. Both were equally clear about every detail and situation in the duel. Two pale long hairs flew in the blood beads, and bright sword shadows were scattered and broken.

Thus, there were no ups and downs of accidents; in the clean and neat exchange of moves, the trend of superiority and inferiority inevitably appeared.

Wu Dong's body was not strong enough; he had suffered heavier injuries before, and in the duel of blade and sword techniques themselves, the advantage created by 【Swallowing the Sea】 could not be compensated for.

Thus, at a certain moment, the sword duel instantly entered a cruel close-quarters fight.

It was hard to imagine two Mystic Gate masters fighting such a duel, but they were indeed fighting elbow to elbow, leg to leg, blade to blade; every full-power collision of fist, sword, and knee, and every white blade swung in the gap was thrilling enough.

"You lost." The old man under the play-mask suddenly spoke in a hoarse voice, blood Qi escaping from his throat.

Wu Dong had no mask, but this forever cold face was no different from a mask. He was silent for a moment, lowered his eyes, and a dangerous sword light suddenly rose from his waist, like a flash of a bright mirror.

Such a sword strike was enough to take a life against an Eighth Life of the nine-tenths of Shaolong, but here it was just another fresh ordinariness. Qu Zhu's blade was like a flowing shadow, having lightly and skillfully stuck to the sword edge.

Another crossing of two blades; neither would trade such a mutually destructive injury. They stopped their swords and avoided at the same time again, brewing the next offensive.

But this time, halfway through Qu Zhu's sword turn, his body suddenly turned cold.

Qu Zhu abandoned his sword completely, but Wu Dong only abandoned half of his sword. He gave up on completely dodging this blade, his waist and abdomen almost leaning into it, thereby earning an opportunity to advance his sword again.

Qu Zhu first coldly lifted his blade to gouge, taking all the advantages he could get in the new change, and then returned the blade from the terrifying crack opened in Wu Dong's waist and abdomen, just in time to face this sword strike.

And what Wu Dong brought him was a stunningly brilliant killing sword.

Fast among the fast, shadow among the shadows, like lightning suddenly appearing in thick ink clouds.

This sword strike was destined to have no name; it was not enough to appear in the Mystic Gate realm, and Wu Dong had not used it for more than ten years.

But it was indeed a sword technique that the old man had refined with blood and life for more than ten years in the darkest side of the Jianghu. Those who had seen it called it the "Yama Sword."

It was just right for close-quarters killing.

Qu Zhu's throat tightened suddenly as if frozen; he was determined not to be able to block this sword strike at this moment.

He only had time to lift the hilt and hold the blade horizontally under his throat, and then lean his body and press the blade as much as possible, letting the sword edge pass obliquely downward through the bone gaps of his upper body, rather than passing through the throat, heart, lungs, and other places...

But he actually did not dodge.

The blood-splattered play-mask leaned forward suddenly, like an evil ghost, and the blade held under his chin did not press down.

It turned through a mysterious arc.

Qu Zhu directly let this sword strike in, letting Wu Dong's sword penetrate his right chest, pressing him and nailing him to the stone wall. The blade drifting outside lightly and sharply unloaded Wu Dong's entire sword-holding arm.

Of course, the winner had been decided. In the spirit body, the heart and lungs were not enough to be fatal, and without an arm or a sword, there was no way to fight.

Actually, when Qu Zhu spoke, Wu Dong's sword strike itself was a reply.

The four eyes were equally clear as fire; no one could cover up their own state. If he did not admit this point, how could the old man cause waves on flat ground and exchange such an irrecoverable heavy injury for a sword attack?

It was just because he had to.

This last sword strike was indeed dazzling and dangerous enough, but Qu Zhu would also never be confused in the face of danger.

However, Qu Zhu looked at Wu Dong's calm movements, and the expression under the play-mask seemed to show stiffness for the first time.

The old man seemed to just want to give this arm to him.

The gray-white pale eyes looked at him. The moment he nailed him into the stone wall, the old man had already leaned backward. He did not even release the sword hilt, because he clearly knew that in the next instant, he would say goodbye to his shoulder and this sword.

In the next instant, Qu Zhu unloaded his shoulder.

And Wu Dong's other empty hand had already lifted, three fingers pinched together, two fingers standing flat.

That was, 【Silk Pulling】.

From the moment he imitated the sword characteristics from 【Jade Tiger】, the weapons that could be used in this stone room were not two, but three.

It could come out at any time, but only at this moment, when the situation was truly pressed to the end, the tattered, blood-stained black robe was nailed to the stone wall, and the long blade had no time to turn back, this sword strike was truly fatal.

Wu Dong leaned backward, and the light-and-shadow-crossing sword edge swept forward. Two identical swords appeared in the array at the same time. The repulsive force of the 【Lotus Heart Decisive Sword】 suddenly pressed down, and the long sword nailed into the stone wall had already made an unbearable wail. If the two swords were to break, it would certainly not be 【Jade Tiger】—clearly, as long as it had one more forced mobilization to stimulate the array, the sword in the room would immediately collapse.

This was of course a desperate dead end. This gap was very narrow, but it clearly existed. Perhaps in the next moment, Qu Zhu could sweep up from the wall, but in this instant, he was a complete lamb for the slaughter. Mystic Qi was not there, the spirit body was useless, the long blade was away from his body, and only his throat was so clearly and vulnerably exposed.

The dim blade of 【Jade Tiger】 floated in the center of his vision.

It was at this moment that Qu Zhu finally clearly knew what the old man had come here for. After the Jade Tiger, his gray hair was messy, his cheeks stained with blood, his gray-white pale eyes and the eyes under the play-mask stared straight at each other. In the next instant, the sword edge was about to cut one of their throats, but time seemed quiet at this moment.

"You lost." The old man said hoarsely.

————

After the "Hanging Heavenly Curtain," amidst the mist of the peaks.

Seeing Pei Ye had left the Scripture Depository for nearly an hour, moving east and north without stopping. The sound of the waterfall finally gradually faded away. Standing on the peak and looking east, he was simultaneously attracted by a deep valley cliff.

High, steep, hidden, facing north, with layers of green peaks and crisscrossing cliff cypresses.

It did not look like a place where anyone would live for a long time, so Seeing Pei Ye immediately leaped down.

In an instant, he fell into the cliff. The autumn loneliness and deep cold immediately enveloped him. Standing in this valley, looking back, he could no longer see the shadows of the five peaks, and he could imagine that the people of the five peaks could definitely not see this cliff valley either.

Seeing Pei Ye held the sword hilt, passing through trees and stones to go inward and downward. However, there was only silence and endless turns and cliff trees. Finally, just as Seeing Pei Ye began to suspect he had found the wrong place again, the corner of an ancient and simple roof emerged from behind the trees.

A huge cliff terrace, whether natural or man-made, protruded from the cliff. There was no way to descend from above, and no way to climb from below. It was buried by layers of cliff trees. If one were not intentionally looking for it, no one would have thought that a human realm was hidden here.

Seeing Pei Ye stood on the treetop. This was a small courtyard built against the cliff, sitting quietly in the morning sun, even with a bit of peace.

But Seeing Pei Ye only felt cold. Seven years ago, on a night when the cold wind roared, it was in this courtyard that the two of them took the souls freshly peeled from the youth, feasted them to those soulless demon swords, and finalized the evil plot that would poison the two paths of Xilong and Shaolong thereafter.

Now he looked at this courtyard; no one was coming in or out, as if it were completely empty.

"Go and see." Seeing Pei Ye could not hold back and landed with his sword. The black cat intended to observe more, but the youth had already said the words "be urgent and be secret" once.

The two landed in front of the door. What met their eyes was a very ordinary courtyard. The courtyard walls and door panels were all old and damaged, looking like they had been there for more than ten years.

Pushing the door and entering, the black cat's gaze fell on the tables and chairs in the courtyard for a moment, then immediately moved away, guarding the surroundings.

Seeing Pei Ye walked up and brushed it.

"It rained two days ago, and there are no mud marks on the side; it has been cleaned recently," he said, "but it doesn't look like a place where people live for a long time."

The surfaces of the tables and chairs were very clean, but the corners lacked the smoothness that comes after long-term use. Seeing Pei Ye was used to old tables and chairs; he knew how many traces an object would develop under human use.

That meant that the owner of this courtyard had only just returned a few days ago.

Since when? After leaving Bowang?

Standing in the courtyard, he already felt the emptiness in the house. Seeing Pei Ye pushed the door and entered again, and sure enough, it was empty. It was still all the furnishings that a human residence should have, looking neither new nor old. The two did not see any abnormalities, and the room was indeed quiet.

It was just that in a subtle intuition, both the person and the cat tightened their bodies—all details showed that this was not the oppressive silence of being uninhabited, but more like the emptiness after being broken into by something.

Until they lifted the curtain and stepped into the inner hall, both held their breath at the same time.

A huge sinkhole appeared before them, breaking through the wall of the house and heading straight into the mountain wall, deep and unknown how far.

This was definitely not opened by normal means. The torn edges and chaotic Mystic Qi were still hinting at everything. Suddenly, Seeing Pei Ye narrowed his eyes and saw electric light wandering like insects and ants on the edge.

Seeing Pei Ye realized something in an instant, his heart and lungs tightening. Before he could say a word, he rushed in with his sword.

First was a huge array diagram painted on the stone wall, and at the same time, the smell of blood had already spread to his nose. Seeing Pei Ye did not have time to look at anything; he went straight through the second stone room, and the smell of blood suddenly became pungent. Until he arrived before a water curtain that looked like it had been shattered, he rushed in with his sword, and the scene before him made him freeze in place in an instant.

As if a huge iron hammer had heavily smashed onto his brain strings, Seeing Pei Ye stood stiff and motionless.

Before him was a high, huge stone room, with rich blood Qi floating in the air. Two stone platforms were built on the two sides far opposite each other, as if they had worshipped something. On the ground were complex carvings that seemed to have been activated, now dim. The youth he had seen once on the rainy night in Bowang was sitting paralyzed under the stone wall, heavily injured, with a huge blade crack from his shoulder to his abdomen.

And at the other end of this stone hall, that Crane Inspector who seemed forever calm and reliable had been pierced through the throat by a strangely beautiful sword and nailed to the stone wall. He was covered in blood, his internal organs sliding out from the huge blood wound in his waist and abdomen, his gray-white scattered hair drooping to cover his face, and the falling blood sticking them into hard strands.

Not far from this corpse, a tattered, blood-stained black robe sat leaning against the wall. The blood cracks on his shoulders, neck, and waist and abdomen were visible to the naked eye, and on his right chest was a huge, bursting wound. The sword broken into two sections was discarded on the ground.

A cyan bird had its neck broken by him and lay stiff on the ground, with tiny blood spots splashed on its cyan feathers. The letter tube on its leg had already been opened, and his blood-dried hand was tearing a letter into pieces, then turning it into complete ashes. The eerie, cold, blood-stained play-mask leaned indifferently against the stone wall, quietly watching the person who had come.

Seeing Pei Ye looked at this scene stiffly, his body as cold as if he had lost his temperature, only the blood deep inside was boiling little by little.

(End of chapter)