Chapter 75: Chapter Seventy-Five: Seeing the Divine

Chang Zhiyuan sighed and said, “Alright.”

He stepped out, gazing at the monster pinned by the sword beneath the pear tree.

This was Chang Zhiyuan’s first time seeing the creature’s true form, but the events of these past days had hardened his nerves; though his expression remained incredulous, he no longer stood speechless with shock.

“Master Chang, someone must be stationed here to guard it—no one must pull out the sword,” Xing Zhi said.

Chang Zhiyuan nodded: “Master Xing, have you solved the riddle you mentioned?”

Xing Zhi fell silent. The riddle remained unsolved, but she could only treat her inference as the answer.

The “Brief Discussion on Exalted Martial Arts” mentioned the Strange Art of the Severed Meridians, and Ming Qitian possessed the “Sword Sheath.”

And two “spies” had already come to her.

Only the bead’s meaning remained unknown, but this was never a puzzle designed by humans—not every clue must be used.

Three out of four pointed to Ming Qitian; Xing Zhi could only temporarily fix on this guess.

Of course, another hypothesis held some weight: the “Bounty Granting” text everyone sought. It, too, was a Strange Art of the Severed Meridians, and Ming Qitian had come for it.

But Zhu Gaoyang’s actions remained unexplained, and she could not fathom how the bead connected to this Strange Art.

So it must still be Ming Qitian.

She voiced her guess. Ming Qitian nodded and said, “I’ll leave the city at once.”

To meet the enemy outside, so as not to endanger the county.

…

Meanwhile, on Pei Ye’s side, the Black Chi, unaware of Zhu Gaoyang’s arrival, sank into deeper contemplation.

Wooden bead, martial manual, Ming Qitian, talebook.

The Black Chi likewise set Ming Qitian aside—not because she involved too many elements.

But the remaining three items could not form any coherent direction.

The wooden bead had the fewest elements—it was merely a solid wooden bead; the martial manual the Zhao family’s old servant had fumbled out seemed to contain only “Strange Scripture of the Severed Meridians” worthy of this rank; as for this copy in hand, no clear focus could be found.

First, its key could not lie in the paper or the handwritten script, for from the farmland outside the city to this spot, one passed Master Huang’s house, which held many handwritten copies—it ignored those and came specifically for this one, “The Remnant of Heroic Bones,” clearly because of its content.

Yet the content of “The Remnant of Heroic Bones” was too vast.

The black cat stared intently, turned its head to glance at Pei Ye, and flicked its tail against him: “Think too.”

“Don’t rush,” Pei Ye said, eyes fixed on the text as he turned the page. “There are still two pages left.”

The black cat sighed lightly, about to resume thought—when suddenly its body stiffened, turning toward the horizon beyond the city.

…

Outside Fenghuai County, beside Xin Cang Mountain.

Xu Weizhou breathed a shaky sigh of relief, grateful to have escaped death.

No wonder it could trade blows with the Sword Lord—truly… terrifyingly strong.

Though ordered to repel the enemy beyond the walls or lure it out, Xu Weizhou was no fool—he wouldn’t gamble his life so recklessly.

His strategy was simple, just as in the provincial capital: stall and blend in.

Leave the city? Fine.

Repel the enemy? Also fine.

But if the enemy moved too fast for me to block, or if I never even encountered it—how could that be my fault?

Xu Weizhou huddled on the city wall, vigilantly watching the movements within Xin Cang Mountain.

His hand still gripped his sword, never fully abandoning the attempt to strike.

He feared death, not combat—he had never truly faced mortal danger, but he’d fought many solid, hard battles in his sect’s martial trials.

If the creature weren’t absurdly powerful, he still wanted to draw his sword.

Even if he couldn’t match it—of course he couldn’t—but wasn’t it in a hurry to find something? He’d strike, then flee toward the county magistrate’s office; surely it would have no time to pursue him.

In that case, he wouldn’t just avoid blame—he’d be the “first to confront the foe,” a hero.

When he returned to the provincial capital, a casual mention at the poetry gathering would make everyone know Xu Weizhou had stood shoulder to shoulder with the Sword Lord, even wounded the enemy before the Sword Lord arrived!

Then Xiao Si would lavish him with extravagant praise, and he’d sternly rebuke him, humbly claiming he’d merely exchanged two blows with the enemy before the Sword Lord arrived, due to a timing difference.

Then he’d lavish praise on the Sword Lord’s heroic bearing, dramatizing the ferocity of their battle—the more powerful they seemed, the greater the weight of his own strike.

The excited expressions of his friends, the soft glances of several noble ladies seemed to settle upon his skin; Xu Weizhou’s lips curled into a faint smile.

Of course, he knew this was merely the best-case fantasy, so he remained cautious, hiding his form entirely, fearing the enemy would spot him the moment it arrived.

And now he was grateful for that caution.

The creature that burst from the woods—a monstrous, upright lizard-like thing—he’d thought at first glance there might be an opening.

Because its posture as it stood outside the city, orienting itself, seemed almost stupid, and its running gait was stiff.

But thankfully, the thought—“How could the Sword Lord be evenly matched with such a thing?”—made him hesitate for an instant.

The next second, it revealed an unbelievable speed—the distance between them seemed erased; in a single leap, it was already atop the city wall!

The speed and power in that leap, the chilling cold radiating from its scaled bones, froze Xu Weizhou in place—he could only stare, heart pounding, as it entered the city.

Is this the gap between me and the pinnacle masters?

Thank heaven the Sword Lord was inside the city.

Xu Weizhou watched the figure vanish from view, stirred to move and rush to assist—but the fleeting flash of those icy golden eyes sent another chill through him, halting his steps.

He trusted Ming Qitian’s strength—but what if?

In real combat, anything could happen—what if it chose to strike him first, and the Sword Lord arrived too late… or didn’t come at all?

Better to wait a while longer, until it was wounded and exhausted, then approach, claiming he’d heard the commotion only then.

That’s it.

Xu Weizhou’s face grew grave. He leapt onto the roof of the city wall, standing alone with his sword clasped. With his decent appearance, any outsider would see him as calm and reliable.

After all, the enemy had already entered the city—he could now afford to posture as a bold defender.

He waited thus for about a quarter-hour, yet the county remained utterly silent.

No buildings collapsed, no figures leapt, no sword qi rose into the sky.

Xu Weizhou grew uneasy. He turned back to the quiet county, wondering if he’d truly let something in.

Had the creature hidden itself?

Or had one side won easily? But weren’t they evenly matched?

As Xu Weizhou stood bewildered, a white-robed figure suddenly rose into view—he relaxed, ready to approach and inquire.

Just then.

The forest beyond the city trembled as if struck by thunder.

Something was hurtling toward them at terrifying speed—a deafening roar crushed the entire city, trees toppled, air exploded under pressure. As the thing burst from the woods, Xu Weizhou turned his dazed eyes toward it.

In that instant, his body involuntarily trembled—he felt as if he had beheld a god.