Chapter 59: Tainted
Meng Yi Fei held back the storm of feelings within him, like a warrior keeping his blade sheathed, and remained silent for a long time.
True Immortal Ling Xu grew restless and finally spoke, “The Heartless Sword Art of the Ancestral Founder? That Jade Slip—we all have studied it, and it holds no hidden technique. How could this unruly disciple truly master such an art? There must be another reason!”
He recalled Li Shuang—the one he had personally expelled from Spirit Void Peak. He had declared before the entire sect that the bond of master and disciple was broken, turning Li Shuang into a figure of ridicule while sparing his own honor. A trace of regret seeped into his heart; in his haste, he had acted like a reckless young swordsman, and now the consequences were as clear as scars on an ancient scroll.
As Li Shuang’s prowess grew, more warriors would laugh at him, her former master. How could a dignified True Immortal of the Fusion Stage ever face the world under such shame?
Lin Qing Ling glanced at him with a wry smile, her laughter as light as wind chimes. “Ling Xu, you continue to deceive yourself. We all studied that Jade Slip and found nothing of worth. Yet Little Shuang has already embraced the path of the Emotionless Dao. Perhaps, in her hands, it unfolds a realm unknown.” She paused, a faint smirk dancing on her lips. “I must thank you, True Immortal Ling Xu. You have delivered a most exceptional disciple into my care. Had you been wiser, knowing Little Shuang’s fierce spirit, she would have repaid your kindness with lifelong loyalty. Once again, I thank you for this forsaken treasure.”
True Immortal Ling Xu’s expression darkened like an overcast sky. Without another word, he turned and stormed away in fury. Lin Qing Ling watched his retreating figure and spat, “What a farce!”
Meanwhile, Meng Yi Fei’s eyes shimmered with hidden thoughts, as deep and silent as an ancient mountain spring.
…
Spirit Void Peak
Within the misty confines of the Sword Spirit space, Ye Zhao Zhao inspected Long Yan. His face was as pale as a winter moon, and his spirit curled in on itself like a wounded dragon. Yet this frailty only stirred her irritation.
She had fought many battles to seize the legendary Dragon’s Roar Sword—her destined weapon to command the battlefield. And now, Long Yan, who once boasted of unmatched strength, had fallen swiftly when clashing with Li Shuang. A sword that could not best Li Shuang was of no use to her.
“Zhao Zhao, I am fine,” Long Yan managed a weak smile. He had surrendered to Li Shuang on her behalf—surely that meant he cared for her?
But Ye Zhao Zhao’s voice was sharp as a honed blade, “Useless whelp. What use are you? You are nothing but a burden.”
Long Yan froze, trembling like a reed in the wind. He wanted to speak, but the words were caught in his throat.
So, it seemed, the cries in the Arena were but excuses. Just because he had lost once, she now wished to cast him aside? His eyes filled with red sorrow. He had abandoned Li Shuang and forsaken all for Ye Zhao Zhao’s side. He cared not for the ways of the Sword Dao, nor for the blade itself; as long as he remained by her side, he would bear any hardship. In the days when Sword Energy was absent, his very being felt out of balance, yet he never complained—he loved her and had no regrets. But now, a single defeat had cost him her compassion.
Swiftly, Ye Zhao Zhao withdrew her divine sense, and the Sword Spirit space dimmed, cloaked in gloom. Long Yan shrank into himself, his body trembling as dark wisps of murky energy emerged.
“Eldest Senior Brother, see Long Yan—he is so weak,” Ye Zhao Zhao said, her tone edged with worry.
Sheng Yuan’s face grew grave. “Second Junior Brother, examine him as well.” Without hesitation, Shen Yue joined him, and together they sent their divine senses through the space. They confirmed that Long Yan was indeed frail, but could not uncover more.
After a brief council, they prepared a healing elixir and immersed the Dragon’s Roar Sword in it. Under the potion’s nourishing power, the Sword Spirit space steadied a little. Yet Long Yan remained curled and unresponsive.
“This elixir is crafted for Sword Spirits to steady their inner force. Why is Long Yan not recovering?” Sheng Yuan asked, frustration cutting through his tone.
“Could it be that Senior Sister Li struck him hard?” Ye Zhao Zhao’s voice trembled with both anger and sorrow. “If Senior Sister Li holds a grudge, her fury should be aimed at me! Why did she strike Long Yan with such ruthless force?” Tears welled in her eyes, her sobs soft and pitiful.
“Who else could it be?” declared Chang Le An firmly. “If Little Junior Sister had not been weakened, she might have matched Senior Sister Li. In the Arena, she shattered the Dragon’s Roar Sword to rob Little Junior Sister of a powerful ally.”
For a long moment, Sheng Yuan and Shen Yue said nothing. Ye Zhao Zhao’s eyes flashed with unease. Though the disciples of Spirit Void Peak still followed her, their unwavering trust now wavered like bamboo in a storm.
Suppressing her irritation, she spoke in a gentle, sorrowful tone, “It is hard to control one’s strength in an Arena duel. Long Yan, in his anger at being abandoned by Eldest Senior Sister, acted rashly and burned his own spirit. Eldest Senior Sister must have been overcome by the heat of battle and failed to hold back. Eldest Senior Brother, Second Senior Brother, our foremost task is to save Long Yan!”
Sheng Yuan sighed deeply. “I will seek out our Master. Only he can find the remedy for this calamity.” He rose and stepped toward the door, but his face brightened with relief as he beheld the Master.
True Immortal Ling Xu entered the chamber, his face calm yet shadowed with sorrow.
“Master,” Ye Zhao Zhao called softly, her eyes filled with longing and gentle care, as if the Master’s recent coldness had left no scar on her heart.
Though Ling Xu was burdened with frustration, upon seeing her tender expression, his heart softened like frost melting under the morning sun.
“Enough,” he said in a measured tone. “Let me examine the Sword Spirit.” He swept his divine sense across Long Yan’s form, his brows knitting in concentration.
“Master, what ails Long Yan? Why does the elixir fail him?” Sheng Yuan asked, his tone heavy with concern.
Ling Xu examined Long Yan once more, his eyes growing wider with each passing moment. Finally, after a long, silent pause, he spoke, “If it were only a wound to his spirit, the elixir would have steadied him by now. Then… is it that, aside from spirit damage, something else is poisoning him? Did Senior Sister Li truly harm him?”
Ye Zhao Zhao interjected with desperate hope, but Ling Xu’s gaze turned grave as he revealed the truth, “Long Yan… his spirit has been tainted by murky energy.”
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