Chapter 59

Chapter 59: A Heaven-Shaking Sword for a Treasure

Meng Han’s message was brief but clear.

Because he’d been farther from the collapsing mountain—and because he was a Foundation Establishment cultivator—he hadn’t been dragged into that strange small world.

After the disaster, the Windflame Sect ruins continued to cave in. Cultivators from every faction fled in all directions. Meng Han escaped the underground as well, intending to return to Fang Jing City and search for Zhao Chun.

But inside the ruins he’d been ambushed. A late Foundation Establishment cultivator struck him in the chaos, leaving him badly wounded. He survived only by luck—meeting a group of Ling Zhen Sect disciples in Fang Jing City, who took him in and saved him.

Now he was already on the road back to the sect with them. Hearing Zhao Chun was alive, he urged her to return as quickly as possible. Southern Domain had been unsettled lately, and danger could rise without warning.

Zhao Chun didn’t hesitate.

She was still injured. She needed the sect—time to recover, a safe place to stabilize her dantian.

Ju Zhou Ridge lay in the northeast of Southern Domain. By Mist Skiff, it would take five or six days to reach Ji City, then another two or three days to reach Ling Zhen Sect.

She refused to waste time. After bidding Hong Qian farewell, she set off at once.

The Fire-Forging Furnace Art had strengthened her more than she wanted to admit. Being burned and tempered by fire qi had toughened her flesh beyond what it had been. After she returned and secluded herself for a while, she might truly step into the art’s entry stage.

But she’d swallowed too many spirit fruits and healing medicines in that furnace. Her body was strained, her dantian still heavy with a saturated fullness. She would have to digest it carefully before she dared to cultivate again.

A sudden tremor rippled through the ground ahead.

Zhao Chun dropped from the Mist Skiff at once, stowed it away, and slipped into cover. She pressed a talisman onto herself to conceal her aura.

The tremor grew closer.

And with it came two immense pressures that made her skin prickle.

A hoarse, aged voice rang out. “Hand over the Purple Luo Jade Branch, and I’ll spare your life!”

Zhao Chun peered out.

In midair stood a man soaked in blood, his left side ragged where an arm should have been. Fury twisted his features.

Chi Song.

Across from him stood a tall woman with a silver-white sword in hand. Her face looked worn with fatigue, but her stance was steady as a mountain.

Elder Qiu Silhouette of Ling Zhen Sect.

“This?” Elder Qiu Silhouette’s voice was cold. “You don’t even believe your own words. If you have the skill, come take it.”

Chi Song’s rage snapped. Two flying wheels spun up beside him and shot forward to kill.

Elder Qiu Silhouette’s sword flashed. Her Sword Qi Realm surged, striking the wheels with a sharp clang—and the force rebounded them, sending them spinning back toward their master. In the same heartbeat, her Sword Qi Realm tore forward again, cutting straight for Chi Song’s face.

The cultivation gap between them was real. Elder Qiu Silhouette was only mid Essence Condensation Stage. Her foundation was solid, her techniques refined enough that she could fight an ordinary late-stage opponent—but Chi Song wasn’t ordinary. He had already reached late Essence Condensation Stage, and with one more step—Primordial Spirit Light-Splitting—he could advance into the Profound Division Stage.

That difference could not be measured by a simple minor realm.

And yet, in this clash, Elder Qiu Silhouette’s offense and defense were sharp, controlled. She was even pressing him.

Part of it was circumstance. Chi Song was injured.

He’d already fought brutally once—against a gaunt Daoist who, though only mid Essence Condensation Stage, had acted like a madman with deep hatred. The man couldn’t kill Chi Song, but he’d fought with his life to cripple him, tearing off Chi Song’s arm before dying himself.

After the great ship’s collapse, Zhao Chun and Meng Han hadn’t been the only survivors. Cultivators had countless means; slowing a fall was nothing rare. What mattered was this: the survivors, full of resentment, had spread the news that Chi Song possessed the Purple Luo Jade Branch.

The treasure was extraordinarily rare. As soon as the rumor ignited, Essence Condensation cultivators from every direction hunted Chi Song down.

He fled, desperate to reach Feng Immortal City, refine the Purple Luo Jade Branch, and break into the Profound Division Stage before his lifespan ran out.

But fate mocked him.

In a fight with another Essence Condensation cultivator, Chi Song’s storage artifact was knocked away by a spell. He killed his opponent in the end, but the artifact containing the Purple Luo Jade Branch fell into Elder Qiu Silhouette’s hands.

Chi Song couldn’t accept it. He hunted her down to kill and steal it back.

He had not expected her to be this fierce. Her Body Sword Method forced him into a corner, making him look more and more haggard with every exchange.

“No wonder they call you Southern Domain’s genius,” Chi Song snarled, dodging her Sword Qi Realm and dragging his flying wheels back for defense. “You can actually trade blows with me.”

“If I let you grow, you’ll reach the Profound Division Stage sooner or later.”

His eyes burned. “But you shouldn’t have touched what was mine. Today, I’ll make you die here!”

His remaining lifespan was short. Without the Profound Division Stage, he would soon face death in meditation. The Purple Luo Jade Branch was his only hope. No wonder he looked half-crazed.

Elder Qiu Silhouette lifted her sword, tip leveled at him without a shred of retreat. “What good is talk? Show me your methods.”

Chi Song’s fury detonated. The two flying wheels split—two into four, four into eight, eight into sixteen—until hundreds of gleaming wheels hovered behind him, each one flashing with killing light. The razor qi from their spinning edges shredded branches and leaves more than 10 meters away.

With a shriek of wind, the wheels surged forward.

Dust blasted up. A gale howled through the air, filling the space between them with a storm.

Elder Qiu Silhouette didn’t flinch. She knew Chi Song had been fighting too long to recover his spiritual energy. With his storage artifact in her hands, he couldn’t afford a prolonged battle. This was everything he had left—his entire reserve, gambled in one strike.

Fine.

Then don’t regret it.

Light flared around her. On her blade, ripples appeared like water, and beneath the roar of the storm Zhao Chun thought she heard it—waves crashing against shore.

The dust thickened, blotting out sight. Zhao Chun could barely see anything at all.

Then a streak of sea-blue light tore straight into the sky.

A clear sword cry rang out—bright, piercing, absolute.

Sword waves surged like rolling white surf, swallowing the hundreds of wheels in a single sweeping sweep. The dim yellow dust fell away, and the world snapped back into clarity, like dawn breaking.

Chi Song’s head rolled free beneath the silver-white blade. His body followed, crashing to the ground as blood poured out in a violent rush.

Elder Qiu Silhouette’s chest rose and fell. Killing someone who was a half-step into Profound Division while she herself stood only at mid Essence Condensation Stage had drained her to the brink.

She started to draw her sword back—

Then her gaze cut sharply toward Zhao Chun’s hiding place, cold as frost.

“Come out,” she said.