Chapter 0114

Chapter 114: One Sword Crushes the Sword Saint!

You Feng exploded, shouting into the voice-transmission Jade Pendant: “Who are you calling ancestor? I’m your ancestor!”

He had been unlucky for days, and now some old scammer showed up out of nowhere, claimed to be his ancestor, and even asked for money. Without another word, he cursed the caller out, then cut the connection to the Jade Pendant.

[Wait… something is off.] After the rage faded, he replayed the voice in his head. [That old scammer’s voice sounds kind of familiar.] Besides, outsiders could not connect to their voice-transmission Jade Pendants at all. Before he knew it, sweat was sliding down his back.

A short while later, You Feng found himself strung up by a rope. His old father, the patriarch of the Celestial Masters Clan, wore a servile smile as he bowed over the Jade Pendant. You Jing Feng’s urgent voice came through, full of irritation: “Cut the chatter and wire the money, at least one billion spirit stones.”

Hearing that, the patriarch’s face turned troubled as he said into the pendant: “Ancestor, one billion spirit stones is nothing, but the distance is too great, and we may run out of time.”

The voice snapped back with a quick plan: “That girl Ye Lan is with me. I’m pricing her at one billion. Use the equal-value transfer art right now and bring the girl back.”

The patriarch froze, stunned that this was even possible.

You Ye Lan stared like she had been struck by lightning, teary-eyed as she put on a hurt look and asked softly: “Grandfather, are you selling me?”

The old man sighed and answered in a coaxing tone: “Silly girl, how can you call that selling? I’m protecting you. There will be a big fight here soon.”

At that, You Ye Lan’s face turned serious as she dipped her head: “I’m sorry, Grandfather, I blamed you.”

The old man waved it off, then added in a practical voice: “It’s fine, girl, hand over your money too. You can’t use it where you’re going anyway.”

Her warm feeling vanished on the spot. A white light flashed, the transfer completed, You Ye Lan vanished, and You Jing Feng suddenly had an extra 1.1 billion spirit stones on hand.

The old man rubbed his palms with confidence while he waited for the auction to start, murmuring to himself with a grin: “Just a little talisman, I’ll take one.”

Things went as expected. There were three ninth-grade talismans up for auction. The house kept one for itself, the old man spent three hundred million spirit stones to win one, and the last was taken by a power called the Ancestor God Sect.

Holding the talisman, You Jing Feng’s eyes shone like stars as excitement shook him. From the talisman he felt a terrifying power, mysterious and exquisite, beyond any sigil craft he had ever mastered.

He took a steady breath as a thought surfaced: “Ye Lan was right. This talisman art can really dodge Heavenly Tribulation. If our clan could obtain it…” His gaze turned complicated at once. A treasure art this peerless could not be handed out casually. [Put myself in their shoes: if someone dared demand a secret art from the Celestial Masters Clan, their end would be miserable.]

In Son of Heaven Room One, a breathtaking sweep of sword light flashed. Its weight felt like the fall of the Nine Heavens, yet it moved as lightly as a feather. The intruder was the Sword Saint. He had slipped past every watchful eye and broken in, aiming straight for Zhou Tong to subdue him at once.

The little demoness reacted first, clapping out a talisman as she barked: “Talisman Nineteen: Heaven and Earth Prison!” Space sealed tight, stopping any leakage of aura.

Mu Rong Ya moved in a blur, meeting the intruder with her long sword as steel kissed steel. Saintly might seeped into the air and made hearts pound, and only because both sides held back. If Saints clashed without restraint, they could flatten dozens of miles.

Zhou Tong cut in at the last instant as he flicked his fingers: “Talisman Ninety: Black Coffin,” and cleanly split the two apart.

The Sword Saint’s eyes gleamed as he gave a rare compliment: “Good methods,” then leveled his blade at Zhou Tong and stated in a deep voice: “I won’t waste words. Hand over the Glazed Divine Deer sachet, and I’ll owe you a favor.”

Zhou Tong shook his head with a calm smile as he answered: “Your favor isn’t worth much to me.”

The Sword Saint’s face chilled at once as he warned, voice low: “Kid, the female Saint at your side just advanced, didn’t she? She isn’t my match.”

Zhou Tong’s mouth lifted: “So what?”

A snort answered him as the Sword Saint’s tone turned cool and confident: “You’re hot-blooded and young. You must trust your protector a lot. Next, I’ll capture you and show you the gap.” With that, he drew in his aura until he seemed like an ordinary man and added in a gentler voice: “Don’t tense up. I won’t hurt you. I’ll use Sword Dao to take you alive. When my blade rests on your neck, don’t be stubborn.”

Mu Rong Ya stood like a drawn bow. He was not wrong; if they fought head-on, she was not his equal.

With a single word, the Sword Saint moved: “Coming!” His body turned into a white streak and lunged at Zhou Tong.

Mu Rong Ya struck to intercept, but it felt like sinking into a swamp. An ocean of sword intent wrapped her tight and dragged at her steps, making every move hard.

The Sword Saint smiled lightly as he reached Zhou Tong and eased his blade’s power: “It’s already over.” He had used Saint power to keep Mu Rong Ya at bay, so he took care to lighten his hand against Zhou Tong. He had long entered the pure realm of Sword Dao. Taking Zhou Tong alive would be easy. Across the world, he had never met anyone who surpassed him in Sword Dao.

But fate loves its jokes. Even sure victories can flip in a heartbeat.

If Zhou Tong had not lived a life before, the Sword Saint would indeed be number one in Sword Dao at this moment. Yet facing Zhou Tong, who held insights close to those of a Dao-proving expert, even the future peak Sword Saint had to bow in this one path.

Cold light burst, a flash like lightning. A black sword had somehow appeared in Zhou Tong’s hand, and it clashed with the Sword Saint’s blade.

Sparks screamed and flew. This was not just steel on steel. It was Sword Dao against Sword Dao, and the pressure tilted one way.

The Sword Saint’s pupils shook as doubt smashed into him: “How is this possible?” The imbalance felt like a common man trying to stomp an ant, only to step on a dragon instead.

Zhou Tong grinned and shook the other blade away as he said, almost playful: “Off you go.” If not for the Sword Saint’s higher cultivation, his sword would have flown from his grip.

Zhou Tong’s voice turned soft and final: “Now it’s really over.” Before the Sword Saint could recover, a blade rested against his neck.

In that instant, the Saint’s composure flew beyond the clouds of the Nine Heavens. He stared at Zhou Tong like he was seeing a monster.

Zhou Tong’s tone was light and cutting: “The Wordless Root of Wisdom still falls short. It sends you to the peak the fastest, but it also locks your ceiling.” The Sword Saint flinched as if struck again. This youth seemed to know everything about him.

The man’s address shifted as he forced a wry smile: “Little brother, whoever you are, I must use that sachet to save a life. Forgive me, I’m taking it.”

Zhou Tong laughed as he tossed over a cloth pouch: “Using a strong deer’s sachet to save someone, aren’t you afraid you’ll kill them?” The Sword Saint caught it, examined it closely, and his face flooded with anger.

He spat the words like ice: “Those scum from Heavenly Dao dared to trick me.” Zhou Tong patted his shoulder with calm confidence as he said: “Don’t rush. The person this sachet can’t save, I might be able to.”

The Sword Saint grabbed Zhou Tong’s hand, eyes hot with hope as he declared: “If you can save my beloved, I’ll be your sworn brother. If you ever call, I won’t delay.”