Chapter 597: Earth Sword Breaks Evil

Above the Earth Sword lies the Heaven Sword.

The Heaven Sword has the Big Dipper as its tip, the Grand Void as its edge, the sun and moon as its spine, and the primordial yin-yang as its hilt. When this sword is drawn, the rift in the sky becomes its light, the whirlwind its blade, and the thunder of the nine heavens all transform into sword intent!

This is a legend of the Qingcheng Sword Immortal sect.

But just as the Luofeng lineage records the ability to summon the Northern Yin Luofeng Great Emperor—merely a theoretical peak with no one ever achieving it—

At least, not in the mortal realm.

The Heaven Sword is the same.

Even so, the Earth Sword is sufficient to suppress destiny's fortune.

Moreover, within the Earth Sword there are ranks, varying in power according to the size of the altar, the complexity of the rites, and the cultivation depth of the master.

One hundred and eight ritual flags complete the number of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Stems and Seventy-Two Earthly Branches; the personnel are few, perfect for a small-team ambush.

The heavenly gang wind grows fiercer; the primordial gang and sha qi is invisible to ordinary eyes, yet it draws thick fog, continuously gathering upon the hilltop.

This zone continues to expand.

This is the advantage of the local land—Qingcheng disciples often travel far and wide, offering to mountain and river spirits; once the ritual flags are raised, they receive aid.

Elsewhere, it would not be so effective.

Visible to the naked eye, thick fog gathers upon the hilltop; birds and beasts flee in all directions from the mountains; gales howl through the valleys, even stirring waves upon the river.

Such commotion naturally draws the attention of the Wang Fu.

"Big brother, look!"

A demonic cultivator carrying a large gourd was the first to notice something amiss.

His eyes gleamed sharply—he clearly possessed some form of divine sight, enabling him to detect the anomaly first in the pitch-black night.

Others turned their heads and saw the anomaly too.

Moonlight lay like frost; far off, the hilltop was choked with dense clouds, resembling a massive dark shadow slowly writhing…

On the river, the wind and waves grew ever stronger…

The robed elder leading the Wang Fu side was Zhao Jie—the maker of the "God of Joy" talisman, a disciple of the Jinling Liuren Immortal Sect, leader of the Taihu river pirates, and a Gāngjìn master.

"It's Qingcheng's Earth Sword!"

He narrowed his eyes, yet his face showed no fear; he murmured: "Recent divinations show Tai Chang and Teng She occupying the same palace—certainly turmoil, yet also an opportunity. It seems this will come to pass through Qingcheng…"

Thinking this, his eyes lit up and he shouted: "Ignore it! Quickly lay down all the array stones!"

Hearing his order, the others resumed their work.

Unlike those half-hearted men in Chengdu, these demonic cultivators were those Lu Sheng had tested multiple times and deeply trusted.

Even these salt-trader boatmen had received favors.

Moreover, Zhao Jie knew Lu Sheng's true identity and understood the entire plan—hence his willingness to be manipulated in secret.

Even upon hearing Qingcheng had arrived, none retreated.

"Hurry, lend a hand!"

"Don't bother—just drop them!"

The boatmen worked like madmen, speeding up.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Massive stones fell at designated spots, splashing huge waves; combined with the river's turmoil, the boats rocked violently.

The salt-trader boatmen were fine—they spent their lives on water, accustomed to fierce winds and high waves, their lower body stability exceptional.

But several of Wang Fu's Black Feather Guards lost their footing and tumbled into the river.

Logically, they could swim—even with their new firearms, they could climb back aboard.

Yet once they hit the water, they stiffened after just a few struggles, their skin turning pale, covered in dark blue handprints, slowly sinking into the riverbank.

Earlier, their array had drawn forth numerous waterborne demons; Wang Fu's demonic cultivators, distracted by Qingcheng's sword altar, had forgotten to drive them off—and thus fell victim.

It wasn't their fault.

Ordinary people felt only strong winds and rough waves, dark distant hills—but these cultivators sensed far more, all shaken by the overwhelming aura.

"What are you all standing around for?!"

Seeing this, Zhao Jie let out a cold snort.

The other sorcerers, hearing him, dared not drift off; some scattered cinnabar powder into the water to repel demons, others raised their Luo Pan and drove iron rods into the ground to set up arrays.

Though Qingcheng's sword altar was powerful, they knew Zhao Jie's terror far better.

Of course, Zhao Jie was not idle either.

He formed a hand seal, stepped forward off the deck, and beneath his feet, the river surged into a vortex—only reaching his ankles as he sped swiftly across the water's surface.

This was an extremely refined water-dodging technique.

Even those around him were startled.

They had never seen Zhao Jie use such a method before.

Unknown to them, Zhao Jie was equally anxious.

Since joining Lu Sheng's plan, he had visited Dujiangyan countless times, searching for the location of the Dragon Palace's watery realm.

Previously, he incited the southwestern demonic sects to duel Qingcheng here precisely to confirm the position.

Now, the array stones were laid on the riverbed, yet still no response.

Thinking of this, his murderous intent surged.

According to his estimation, entering the Dragon Palace required two treasures:

One was the "Ruyi Treasure Pearl" stolen by Li Yan and others—to protect the body, preventing the dragon qi within from corrupting the spirit during astral travel.

The other was the ancient jade held by the Mei Mountain brothers—the key to sensing and astrally entering the Dragon Palace.

Unfortunately, neither had been secured.

Only the backup plan could be activated…

Meanwhile, on the other side, Qingcheng's sword altar grew ever stronger.

Streams of primordial gang and sha qi, wrapped in thick fog, howled toward the altar and flowed into the seven ritual swords.

These ritual swords were ancient, forged of a bronze-like alloy, their surfaces coated in rust-like patina, exuding antiquity.

As the gang and sha qi poured in, the rust peeled away inch by inch, revealing the cold, icy blades forged from meteoric iron beneath.

Ming Shanzi, the master of the altar, had also changed.

He crouched in a horse stance, fingers forming a sword seal, his muscles bulging, veins throbbing on his forehead, eyes bloodshot, teeth clenched—he clearly endured immense agony.

Of all present, only he could sustain this altar.

Finally, as he neared his limit, he suddenly stepped in the heavenly gang step and intoned: "Heaven is round, earth is square; the Nine Chapters decree. My sword stands here—ten thousand evils hide. Five Ding Warriors, heed my command—go!"

Hum!

As he pointed his sword seal, the air around him trembled; the one hundred and eight ritual flags flapped violently.

Visible white mist, whipped by gales, roared down the hillside.

Though it seemed only a gust of wind and fog, wherever it passed, dead branches and withered grass snapped clean—as if cleaved by blades.

Even snow-covered ground bore deep sword marks.

Many magical arts are tied to local folk customs.

Legend says that in ancient Shu, the king ordered five immensely strong men (the Five Ding) to carve the Golden Ox Road, cleaving through treacherous mountains to open a passage between Shu and the Central Plains.

Along the way, slaying a giant serpent triggered a landslide; the Five Ding and the Qin princess were buried within the mountain, forming the "Tomb of the Five Ding."

Since then, when Shu mountain folk carve dangerous paths, they inscribe the "Five Ding Opens the Mountain" talisman onto the rock.

Though Qingcheng is a proper Xuanmen sect, it absorbed local techniques—this altar, for instance, draws primordial gang and sha qi, transforms it into sword qi, then activates it with the Five Ding incantation.

It resembles five guardian divine generals wielding ritual swords to strike down enemies.

Once the Five Ding Earth Sword is unleashed, its might is immediately apparent.

Yet beside him, Cheng Jianxin sighed faintly.

The secret of the Five Ding Earth Sword lies in condensation—if he used it, the gang and sha qi could form five colossal qi swords.

Alas, he was now drained, his lamp nearly out.

Ming Shanzi was already an outstanding disciple of the Cheng family; others could not even maintain this altar.

The elder generation of Qingcheng was aged; the sect master must remain at the mountain gate, unable to leave lightly; the younger generation could not keep pace.

In ten years, Qingcheng may decline.

Thinking of this, Cheng Jianxin turned his gaze to Chang Gou Sheng beside him, his expression grave.

The transformation of the mortal realm has arrived; Qingcheng disciples have absorbed Shu's customs, rigidly adhering to tradition, unable to break through—so he took disciples from the countryside. Chang Gou Sheng possessed astonishing talent and boundless imagination—he was Cheng's and Qingcheng's last hope.

Yet he wondered: could he ride the winds of this mortal transformation?

Leaving Cheng Jianxin's thoughts aside, the Earth Sword's qi, controlled by Ming Shanzi, had already reached the river.

Gales howled, white mist churned; wherever it passed, massive waves erupted upon the river—as if a giant had slashed the water with a sword.

"Watch out!"

The Wang Fu group trembled in terror at this power.

The Black Feather Guards on the perimeter raised their massive shields, shielding others behind them.

At this moment, they too felt bewildered.

With their new firearms and rigorous training, these Black Feather Guards were arrogant, dismissing sorcerers entirely.

No matter how powerful the magic, a volley of muskets would leave no trace.

!

But faced with this terrifying assault, their firearms had become nothing but firesticks—utterly useless.

Crack!

Before they could think further, a howling storm of white mist surged upon them; with a sharp crack, the hulls of the ships cracked open as if sliced by a giant blade.

Immediately, a tremendous force surged through their arms.

The shields in their hands were all made of ironwood, wrapped in iron plating, capable of blocking even powerful crossbow bolts.

Yet, on many shields, sparks flew with clanging sounds, and massive cracks appeared.

Some shields shattered into pieces; others snapped clean in two; several Black Feather Guards were sliced clean in half, their blood and flesh spraying everywhere.

Ming Shanzi's cultivation was ultimately limited; had the power of the Earth Sword struck true, it could have pierced the entire fleet outright.

It would not have been so uneven, so weak in places.

Even so, the fleet suffered heavy losses; the outermost ships were all shattered, some completely disintegrated, swept away by the waves and sinking into the river.

More than twenty men died; severed limbs mixed with blood quickly stained the river's surface red.

Zhao Jie leapt forward, blocking the way.

His palm suddenly solidified, and he swept left and right.

Clang! Clang!

With two sharp cracks, he dispersed the two incoming sword qi, his body unmoved.

"Stay back!"

Zhao Jie gazed into the distance and sneered: "The main altar's user still lacks refinement—no more than one more sword…"

No sooner had he spoken than his expression changed slightly.

On the blood-stained river, bubbles suddenly gurgled up, and thick mud surged forth.

A cold, powerful aura rose from the river.

"It worked—blood sacrifice?!"

Zhao Jie's eyes gleamed with delight.

He had tried blood sacrifice before, but never with any result; he never imagined Qingcheng would succeed at once, summoning Long Gong.

This matter was, in truth, a coincidence.

Qingcheng's Sword Altar first gathered the mountain and river earth qi, disturbing the river's earth veins, accidentally triggering the blood sacrifice.

But he had no time to rejoice; Zhao Jie whirled around, staring to his right, eyes filled with horror: "What… is this?"

He felt a cold, vast power rising from the Kan position of the formation—as if something were watching them.

Many sorcerers had felt this before.

Some couldn't resist activating their spiritual senses to investigate.

Soon, screams erupted.

The man who had carried the gourd used his Eye of Insight to peer—just one glance, and black fluid poured from all seven orifices; he rolled on the ground, wailing, his skin covered in crimson, vertical-eyed blotches…

The others were the same.

No matter what spiritual sense they used, all suffered identical symptoms.

"Don't look! Don't probe!"

Zhao Jie roared, retreating rapidly.

Crack!

A jade pendant on his chest shattered.

Zhao Jie immediately looked at his right hand—there, a vertical-eyed crimson blotch had appeared; only after channeling his gang qi did it slowly fade.

"What kind of curse is this?"

His heart was filled with dread.

That jade pendant was a treasure taken from the Shu King's treasury, carved from the same region as the Heshibi, forged into an excellent protective artifact.

Yet it hadn't even held for a moment.

Fortunately, thanks to his warning, many sorcerers ceased their probes, even refusing to look toward the Kan position.

As for the ordinary boatmen, they were unaffected by the curse—only panicked, watching the cursed sorcerers writhe on the ground, gradually descending into madness.

"It's the Ancient Shu Eye!"

Cheng Jianxin suddenly rose, his face grim: "Something must be sealed within Long Gong's underwater palace—cannot let it escape!"

"Yes, Ancestor!"

Ming Shanzi did not hesitate; he activated the Sword Altar once more.

As Zhao Jie had said, he could only summon two swords.

Compared to ordinary men, this thing about to escape was clearly the greater threat.

Hum!

Another sword descended, filling sky and earth.

This time, its target was the outer Kan position of the fleet.

The howling wind and white mist quickly spread across the river.

Roar—

The wind howled, mixed with the shrieks of some monstrous thing.

The white mist churned; the river's waves surged violently.

Boom!

With a thunderous crash, it sounded as if a giant balloon had burst; thick, visible red mist rose and scattered, flying far away.

"It's Yao Sheng!"

Now, many sorcerers recognized the truth.

Yao Sheng qi was an aberration of primordial gang sha qi, left behind by ancient, savage Shu traditions—only capable of being erased.

Fortunately, it had been shattered by Qingcheng's Sword Altar.

"Strike! Leave none alive!"

With the evil entity destroyed, the Sword Altar could no longer be used; Cheng Jianxin gave the order without hesitation. The Qingcheng Mountain and Cheng family members immediately leapt forward, sprinting down the mountain.

"Fire! Stop them!"

Zhao Jie gritted his teeth and gave the order.

Their goal had not yet been achieved—they could not let them escape.

The remaining Black Feather Guards raised their Divine Fire Guns and, under the sorcerers' command, pulled the triggers into the night.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Roars echoed through the night sky.

Flames and smoke burst forth; soil sprayed from the riverbank.

But the Qingcheng disciples had already prepared.

The Kun Dao woman clenched her hand seals; golden needles above her head trembled; bells rang from all directions, disrupting the sorcerers' spiritual senses, causing over half the gunshots to miss, striking empty ground…

The white-haired Daoist, his face scarred, held a jujube wood talisman, pulled a handful of iron powder from his pouch, and hurled it into the air while chanting and forming seals.

Sizzle~

Lightning crackled, spreading across the water's surface.

Its power was weak, but it made many Black Feather Guards shudder.

In an instant, both sides were locked in fierce combat…

(End of Chapter)