Chapter 613: Sword Drawn from the Red Dust

The Wang Palace's defenses were completely breached.

The True Lord Er Lang appeared, and Wen Lingguan rained down meteoric fire, utterly shattering the morale of Chengdu's garrison soldiers.

Some joined the rebellion out of blind conformity; others sought to install the Shu Prince and reap riches and glory after victory.

Yet rumors of the Shu Prince being possessed by a demon, and the bizarre sights within Chengdu Prefecture, had already sown doubt in their hearts.

The appearance of immortals and gods, as whispered, was the final straw.

Some dropped their weapons and turned to flee.

Others followed the Chongqing Garrison in attacking the Shu Prince's palace…

The accompanying experts leapt over the walls, each unleashing their ultimate techniques.

"Earth Listening String" Yue San'er leapt from the wall, drew his huqin, and the piercing strings instantly churned the blood and qi of the Black Feather Guards…

Liang Yu waved his hand, scattering green powder that emitted a tea-like fragrance; Jin Po Po seized the moment to chant a spell, and wherever she passed, the Black Feather Guards' eyes glazed over, their firelocks dropping from their hands…

Lu San manipulated the demonic gourd, and a dense swarm of venomous bees buzzed relentlessly…

Fan Tieguai's iron crutch swept through the snow, and with a thunderous crash, the shield-bearers attempting to close the breach were flung three zhang away, shields and all…

Within moments, the Black Feather Guards were suppressed.

"Hold the line! Hold it!"

The Black Feather Guard commander, with cold, sinister features, shouted loudly, galloping on horseback to rally the last remaining forces within the palace for support.

There were Black Feather Guards, and also eunuchs with formidable martial skill.

Lu Sheng had always been skilled at winning hearts; while lying low in the Shu Prince's palace, and later after possessing the body, he gathered a large number of fiercely loyal followers.

There were certainly no shortage of those willing to die for him.

Yet the tide had turned irrevocably.

BOOM!

On the wall, Wu Ba's Tiger Cannon roared through the smoke.

The muzzle's flame tore through the thick fog; broken bricks, shattered tiles, and flying snow erupted skyward, scattering the last reinforcements.

"Kill!"

Zhao Xianda swung his blade and roared, leading his men to break through the palace gate.

At this point, only scattered resistance remained within the palace.

But no one believed the matter was over.

In the center of the Chengyun Hall courtyard, white mist formed a swirling vortex, howling winds raging, the scene deeply eerie.

More terrifying still, the ground rumbled continuously, as if some monstrous beast sought to claw its way up from beneath.

Bricks and tiles rained down; a massive crack appeared along the walls of Chengyun Hall…

As the Nine Tripods' power leaked out uncontrollably, the white vortex grew larger and larger, obscuring all sight of its interior.

"Everyone, do you have any ideas?!"

Zhao Xianda, face strained with anxiety, asked those around him.

The central white vortex was not mere mist—it was true gangsha qi in motion.

Ordinary men could not approach; some soldiers tried, but without magical protection, they were instantly knocked unconscious by the gang qi.

The Six Idle Bamboo Masters also attempted to form seals and enter with protective spells.

But as soon as they neared the vortex, their faces turned ashen, they staggered backward, nearly collapsing.

"Impossible! The gang qi inside is too violent—magic won't work!"

"Don't try anything reckless."

Cheng Jianxin, supported by Chang Tianque, stared at the vortex with grave solemnity, his voice hoarse: "The Nine Tripods rotate beneath the dragon vein, absorbing vast amounts of dragon vein earth qi. Only those with profound cultivation and unshakable spiritual cores can enter—but even then, magic cannot be used. Only martial skill will suffice."

"I'll go!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Wu Ba dropped his Tiger Cannon and charged straight into the white mist vortex.

He was indeed fierce, managing to take a few steps forward—but instantly his vision blurred, his eyes blinded by the gang wind.

His martial skill could not be unleashed at all.

CLANG!

At that moment, sudden lethal intent flashed.

A blood-red scimitar pierced the white mist, slashing toward Wu Ba's neck at blinding speed; Wu Ba barely raised his arm to block.

CLANG!

The Duanchen Blade followed instantly, intercepting the blood-red scimitar.

Dizzy and disoriented, Wu Ba was kicked clear of the vortex by Li Yan, tumbling to the ground, face twisted in frustration as he slammed his fist into the earth.

He knew—he had not helped Li Yan at all; instead, he had distracted him, nearly ruining everything.

His fears were well-founded.

The Blood Nuo Master Badaiza's goal was not to kill him, but to lure Li Yan away from the vortex's center, so as not to interfere with Lu Sheng's actions.

The experienced outsiders had already guessed the reason.

Sha Lifei raised his Divine Fire Gun, aiming—but the white mist churned violently, obscuring all magical detection; he could see nothing.

The Six Idle Bamboo Masters, aged and with depleted blood and qi, could not withstand the sha qi's assault and were of no help.

Lu San attempted to enter, but Wang Daoxuan blocked him, shaking his head: "At the fourth level of cultivation, only those who have cultivated the Yin Spirit stand a chance. Don't add to Yan's burdens."

Sha Lifei gritted his teeth: "Then what if we blow up the Nine Tripods with explosives?"

He didn't care about divine artifacts—he'd protect his own first.

"No!"

"Earth Listening String" Yue San'er shook his head urgently: "The Nine Tripods are linked to the earth veins. If we detonate gunpowder, it won't help—and the earthquake will spread!"

"Damn it, then what the hell do we do?!"

Sha Lifei's head throbbed at the news.

He had seen Yue San'er's abilities—he knew the man spoke truth.

"Master…"

As they spoke, a frantic voice came from beside them.

Everyone turned—and saw Chang Tianque, face filled with anxiety, trying to stop Cheng Jianxin; yet the aged sword immortal, calm and composed, gently pushed his disciple's hand away.

Meeting the gazes of all present, Cheng Jianxin said no empty words—only smiled and patted Chang Tianque's shoulder: "You've always wanted to know how my sword art is, haven't you? Watch closely!"

With that, he took the sword from Chang Tianque's hands.

The sword was utterly ordinary; its surface even rusted and pitted, no different from a discarded blade.

Since becoming Cheng Jianxin's disciple, Chang Tianque had carried this sword everywhere—whether practicing or dueling, he used only this broken blade.

He had once despised it, wanting to swap for a better one—but Cheng Jianxin had adamantly refused, saying something like, "A dog's name deserves a broken sword."

What stunned Chang Tianque happened next.

ZHONG!

The moment the broken sword entered Cheng Jianxin's grasp, it rang with a sword's cry; rust and dust fell away in a shower, as if rejoicing.

Cheng Jianxin chuckled softly, drew the blade, and walked toward the white vortex in the courtyard's center.

His steps were unsteady at first—but after a few paces, they grew firmer, his posture straightening, growing ever more upright.

CLANG!

The rusted sword in his hand sang like a dragon; rust and dust vanished entirely, revealing a flash of cold light—and etched upon the blade were two characters:

Red Dust!

Watching his back, everyone around felt an inexplicable sensation—a piercing pain in their third eye, as if a sharp blade hovered above them.

SHUAI!

Every pair of eyes burned with pain; in the blink of an eye, the towering figure ahead had vanished.

A massive gap appeared in the central white mist vortex—as if cleaved open by a blade.

Sha Lifei wiped sweat from his brow.

"Damn, this old sword immortal… was faking illness?"

Wang Daoxuan shook his head slightly, saying nothing.

Beside him, Chang Tianque was in tears.

Sha Lifei didn't understand—but many knew clearly: this Sword Immortal Cheng was exhausting every last ounce of his strength.

He had already been on the verge of death.

After this battle, he would have not a single chance left to live.

CLANG!

In the thick mist, blade met blood-edged blade, sparks flying.

Li Yan pushed off the ground, ignoring all openings, his blade tracing along the blood-edged scimitar, driving straight for Badaiza's throat.

But Badaiza swiftly withdrew his blade to evade.

Li Yan saw this—and his teeth clenched in fury.

As Wang Daoxuan had said, the vortex was a disturbance caused by the Nine Tripods—pure, unadulterated gangsha qi. Any magic would be scattered; even divine abilities could not be used.

To withstand the sha qi's assault, one needed at least the fourth level of cultivation—and could fight only with martial skill.

This left Li Yan on the defensive.

The Blood Nuo Master Badaiza was a long-established demon of the southwestern heretical sects; Li Yan had previously suppressed him only because of the Spirit-Stealing Chain and the Divine Transformation Art, which temporarily boosted his power.

Now, both sides could rely on martial skill alone.

Ba Daiza was also at the peak of Hua Jing; though not as young and vigorous as him, his experience was immense, and his blade technique even more refined.

Worse still, this man was extremely cunning.

He never clashed directly with Li Yan, only harassing from the side—touching and retreating instantly, preventing Li Yan from drawing closer to the Nine Cauldrons.

Li Yan wanted to use the power of the Great Luo Body, trade injury for injury, lure the old devil into attacking, then kill him.

Unfortunately, the opponent refused to take the bait.

Thinking of this, Li Yan felt growing anxiety and turned his head toward the direction of the Nine Cauldrons.

He had seen Lu Sheng and Li Wenyuan approaching the Nine Cauldrons.

Though these two were inscrutable, they too were affected by the Nine Cauldrons' power and could not use magical arts.

Yet the animal hide they held was no ordinary thing.

The hide was as thick as a thumb, one side covered in brown fur, the other gleaming with pitch-black luster, engraved with a landscape fengshui map, faintly resembling the ancient Nine Provinces.

These two knew the danger of the Nine Cauldrons and had prepared in advance.

Whether it was Zhao Jie before, or the Formless Prince, anyone who touched the Nine Cauldrons with their flesh would suffer bodily collapse and complete dispersal of their soul.

Now, both were shrouded in white mist, their forms barely visible, the golden radiance of the Nine Cauldrons flickering faintly in and out.

Li Yan had a suspicion.

The Formless Prince lacked sufficient cultivation; he failed to fully extract the Nine Cauldrons before vanishing, leaving the cauldrons' true nature uncertain.

But time was running out.

Once the Nine Cauldrons fully detached from Long Gong, calamity would descend.

"Hahaha! Better to watch the knife than the cauldron!"

Seeing Li Yan distracted, Ba Daiza let out a wild laugh and attacked again.

His blood-red curved blade slashed diagonally; as Li Yan raised his blade to block, the old man suddenly released his grip and twisted his wrist.

Whirrrr!

The blood-red curved blade spun, circling past Du Chen Dao, precisely slicing toward Li Yan's fingers.

Li Yan raised his blade to block, and the opponent immediately caught the curved blade again, crouched low, spun around Li Yan's side, and slashed backward at his knee.

These moves were swift and bizarre.

Li Yan had heard that the Tujia people possessed a deadly skill called "Throwing Blade Art," originally a performance in Nuo opera.

He never expected this old devil could integrate it into combat.

The blade flew with the hand, impossible to guard against.

Li Yan's mind stirred—he feigned evasion and retreated again; as Ba Daiza rushed in, his left hand suddenly flicked.

In an instant, blade light exploded.

The old man had Throwing Blade Art; Li Yan's family had Sleeve Knife Art.

Hss!

This strike was stealthy—even with Ba Daiza's swift dodge, he was slashed across the ribs, blood quickly soaking through his clothes.

"Boy, you're dead!"

Ba Daiza's face turned cruel, yet he did not press forward.

He was old and crafty—he knew this was the critical moment. Once Lu Sheng seized the Nine Cauldrons, the broken path ahead would reconnect; he must not be careless.

Li Yan's many tricks truly made him wary.

But just then, he suddenly felt a tightness at his back.

He sensed a gaze locking onto him—as if an invisible blade were pressing against the back of his skull, slowly piercing in.

Instantly, his soul felt a sharp pain.

This was pure sword intent!

In his life, he had seen only one person who could harm others with sword intent.

"Impossible!"

Ba Daiza spun around, eyes filled with disbelief.

Through the thick mist, a figure approached, sword in hand.

White beard and hair bristled, eyes sharp as gleaming sword blades.

Cheng Jianxin… impossible!

Ba Daiza's mind went blank; fear rose in his chest.

Years ago, he practiced dark arts, destroying several Tujia villages and killing several disciples of the Xuan Men orthodox sects, earning a fearsome reputation across the martial world.

But just as he reveled in his power, Cheng Jianxin descended the mountain, chasing him in desperate flight—even jumping into a latrine to mask his aura—until Cheng Jianxin had other urgent business, allowing him to escape and hide under the Shu Prince's protection.

This was his greatest shame and deepest fear.

That was why, before, he had pursued the aged Cheng Jianxin without mercy.

He had assumed the old man was merely a dying relic.

Yet now, fear surged again.

Puff!

At that moment, Ba Daiza felt a searing pain in his chest—he looked down to see a horizontal blade piercing through his heart.

Li Yan had seized his chance, using a blade technique resembling military assassination methods, shrinking distance to strike a fatal blow.

"You—"

Before Ba Daiza could speak, Li Yan yanked the blade free and slashed backward, severing his head.

At the same time, Cheng Jianxin strode forward.

Li Yan's gaze was complex—he had finally witnessed the Sword Immortal's bearing, yet he knew this elder was burning his final light.

But now, there was no time for words.

"Elder, help me!"

Li Yan merely raised his blade in salute, then turned and charged toward the center of the vortex.

The golden light ahead grew increasingly intense, piercing through the mist, as if dyeing the surroundings golden, dreamlike and surreal.

Yet Li Yan had no time to admire the spectacle.

The Nine Cauldrons had become an entity beyond comprehension.

The closer he drew, the more unbearable it became.

It felt as if a massive mountain were crushing his soul from all sides—his steps grew sluggish, his breath choked.

This was the true reaction of ordinary mortals.

Those like the Formless Prince, cursed yet unaware, blinded by greed, felt no pain until their bodies shattered.

At ten paces, Li Yan halted.

Here, he could advance no further—and finally saw the true form of the Nine Cauldrons.

This object carried countless legends; historical records said it was forged from the spiritual materials of the Nine Provinces, not merely a heavy bronze vessel.

Now, it blazed with golden radiance, its material indistinguishable.

Its top bore carvings of sun, moon, stars, flowers, birds, fish, insects, and the map of the Nine Provinces—with the region of Ezhou especially prominent, the nine-headed bird sculpture seeming ready to spread its wings and fly.

It was the Jingzhou Cauldron!

Li Yan instantly understood.

Ancient Jingzhou covered present-day Ezhou, Xiangzhou, and southern Yuzhou; the Nine-Headed Phoenix vein was naturally its dominant fengshui line.

Long ago, Duke Zhou secretly suppressed the Phoenix vein, causing heroes to emerge from Chu land—but always falling short of the final step, with lingering poison still present.

Such troubles were not isolated.

Back then, Emperor Qin Shi Huang cast the Nine Cauldrons into the earth veins, letting them circulate among the Three Great Dragon Veins of Shenzhou, precisely to resolve these problems.

Today, the Nine Cauldrons had become divine artifacts of Shenzhou.

Li Yan had no time to ponder further—he turned his gaze to the opposite side of the cauldrons.

There, Lu Sheng and Li Wenyuan both wore twisted, agonized expressions as they staggered toward the Nine Cauldrons.

Clearly, the cauldrons' power had exceeded their expectations.

Yet they were now less than ten meters away—their strange animal hides might be the artifacts shielding them from the Nine Cauldrons' divine might.

Without hesitation, Li Yan gripped his Gou Die.

He never feared confronting these two.

One was a yin criminal.

One was a celestial fugitive.

All he needed was to summon yin soldiers or the Thunder Department…

(End of Chapter)