Hundred Thousand Mountains, Phoenix Academy.
The bitter wind howled, and snowflakes swirled through the air.
Phoenix Terrace, dozens of yards high, was where the Academy's students held their grand competition and settled their duels.
The three-yard-tall pillar of black iron was covered in mottled rust.
A divine dragon was carved into it. It was known as the Coiling Dragon Pillar, and it had stood here for a thousand years.
Today, the Coiling Dragon Pillar was spattered with blood. A fleck of it had even splashed across the dragon's eyes.
Amid the howling wind and snow, a boy not yet ten years old was chained to it with a length of cold-forged iron.
A cold voice rang out through the snowstorm.
"Student Wang Xian has committed an outrageous offense and lost all reason! He has harmed his fellow students and poisoned the son of the Discipline Elder!"
"By order of the Discipline Elder, his cultivation is to be destroyed! He is to be executed on Phoenix Terrace!"
The Discipline Elder had struck Wang Xian nine hundred and ninety-nine times in the name of punishment, and every blow had avoided his heart.
He wanted Wang Xian to bleed his last drop in the bitter wind, then die beneath a thousand cuts...
From the hour of Chen yesterday to this moment, a day and a night had passed.
All the blood and vitality had seeped from Wang Xian's wounds. Only his undying heart remained, still beating slowly.
He struggled, lifting his unyielding gaze to the sky.
He murmured, "Sima Jue... you actually framed me..."
"Whoosh!"
An iron arrow tore through the driving snow. No one knew where it had come from, but it shot into the sky and raced toward Phoenix Terrace, dozens of yards away...
A voice rang out coldly in the wind. "Die!"
"Clang!"
A ringing clash sounded in the bitter wind, just as the iron arrow was about to pierce Wang Xian's heart.
Wang Xian shifted with all his strength. A divine arrow that had pierced through the snow struck the iron chain!
The chain gave a mournful cry and snapped!
"Damn it!"
"Whoosh!" Another divine arrow tore through the snow and sped toward Phoenix Terrace!
"Vooooom!"
"Rumble..."
At that very moment, a sudden roar rang out from the sky!
Then a bolt of lightning plunged down and struck Phoenix Terrace!
A golden light ripped through the snowstorm, as if a giant hand were reaching down from the heavens to wrench up the Coiling Dragon Pillar...
Amid a thunderous roar, the Coiling Dragon Pillar was pulled inch by inch from the blue stone.
As countless stunned eyes watched from behind the snowstorm—
The Coiling Dragon Pillar rose into the air like a dragon god taking flight and shot straight toward the ninth heaven!
Before the divine arrow could even reach Phoenix Terrace, the Coiling Dragon Pillar carried the dying boy away and vanished from the terrace...
"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"
In an instant, countless figures burst out from the snowstorm and raced toward Phoenix Terrace...
It was the first day of winter.
The Phoenix Academy's most treasured relic had vanished right before the eyes of its elders.
South of Kunlun.
Halfway up the mountain stood a Daoist temple that was not especially grand. It was called Yunqi Temple.
The first light of dawn glimmered, and the snow in the sky had nearly stopped.
A streak of golden light tore across the heavens and fell into the vast blanket of snow like a meteor.
Somehow, it did not send snow flying in every direction.
At the last instant, it drifted down like a green leaf.
The boy, soaked in blood with only his heart still beating, rode the golden light through the snowstorm and landed beneath a pine tree beside the mountain path.
The boy lay with his eyes shut, his body riddled with wounds and soaked in blood. Yet he still clutched a rust-covered longsword tightly in his hand.
The longsword seemed to possess a spirit of its own. Now and then, a faint golden light shimmered across it.
It seemed to be repairing the boy's dying body.
Nourished by the golden light, the boy's heart, shriveled and drained of every last drop of blood, suddenly pumped out one golden drop, then another.
The golden blood flowed quietly through the boy's limbs and every part of his body, like a little stream.
It was as if a spring breeze had swept across a snow-covered wilderness, bringing a trace of life back to it.
Down the mountain, an Old Daoist came up the path, carrying a wine gourd and humming a little tune.
The Old Daoist, who rarely left the mountain, had spent the night drinking down below.
Today, he had risen early and headed back to the temple.
Just as his aging eyes began to grow blurry, a faint golden light startled him...
He sent out his spiritual sense and instantly spotted the boy lying beneath the pine tree not far away.
What the hell? This is my territory. Who'd dare kill someone here?
He swept up the mountain like a breeze. But when he reached out to check the boy's breathing, the rust-covered longsword startled him!
What the hell!
A Divine Sword had appeared, and you're going to snatch it away from me?
The Old Daoist lifted the longsword from the boy's hand. Delight spread across his face as he looked at the two characters "Panlong" on its hilt!
He murmured, "Old friend, how many years has it been since we last met?"
As he spoke, he flicked his hand, and an antique-looking scabbard appeared in it.
He held the sword in one hand and the scabbard in the other, then slid the blade inside inch by inch.
As he worked, he muttered to himself, "A Divine Sword and its spiritual scabbard. A thousand years apart..."
"Vooooom!"
The Divine Sword slid into its scabbard with a clear ring. Then a blinding golden light flashed, dazzling the Old Daoist in an instant.
"Whoosh!" In a flash—
The Divine Sword and scabbard turned into a streak of golden light and sank into the boy's body...
"What the hell! Brat, you dare steal the old man's Divine Sword!"
Just as the Old Daoist was about to slap the boy in the chest—
Another mass of thick, inky golden light enveloped him. Before the Old Daoist's stunned eyes, the boy absorbed the golden light, and his wounds began to heal at astonishing speed.
"One, two... two hundred... nine hundred..."
The Old Daoist was dumbstruck as he saw the nine hundred and ninety-nine wounds covering the boy's body.
Even so, the boy still had one last breath left in him!
This was nothing short of a miracle.
Without another word, the old man conjured up a gust of wind and swept the boy along with him toward the temple on the mountain.
As they rode the wind, laughter rang out across heaven and earth.
"Damn it, you stole the old man's sword, so from now on, you're my precious disciple!"
"Who the hell dares fight me for him? I'll slap them to death!"
"Panlong! You've finally returned!"
Phoenix Academy had descended into chaos.
No matter how clever the Discipline Elder was, no matter how hard the other elders wracked their brains—
No one could have imagined that the Coiling Dragon Pillar, which had stood on Phoenix Terrace for a thousand years without fear of wind or rain, would suddenly tear through the sky and vanish.
Some of the Academy's students had even spoken up for the dead Wang Xian. Nine hundred and ninety-nine cuts—who could endure that?
The most despicable part was—
At the end, the Discipline Elder's son, Sima Jue, had even tried to shoot an arrow straight through Wang Xian's heart!
Well, now—even heaven itself couldn't stand by and watch!
It had taken the Coiling Dragon Pillar, along with Wang Xian, whose life or death was unknown!
In the eyes of most of the elders and students, Wang Xian had been framed by the Discipline Elder and his son.
Some even whispered among themselves that if Wang Xian survived today, the years to come would become a nightmare for father and son alike!
Meanwhile—
The Old Daoist at Yunqi Temple had already heated a barrel of water and added precious spiritual medicine.
He placed the boy inside to temper his body and drive out the poison.
With his keen old eyes, he had seen at a glance that every wound on the boy's body carried a chill, insidious poison.
He couldn't help wondering who could be so heartless as to stab the boy a thousand times.
Even the sword had been dipped in poison.
It was a corrosive cold poison, one that would make the boy bleed until his last drop before he died.
Too damn vicious!
From the hour of Si until the hour of Wei, over the course of three hours, the old man changed the water three times, using three different medicinal brews!
When he poured out the first barrel, its contents were black with blood and grime. The poison had been drawn out.
The second barrel had turned cloudy, filled with some rust and other impurities from the boy's body.
The Old Daoist had used spiritual medicine to cleanse the boy's bones and marrow.
The third barrel's water had not changed. Only a thin trickle of blood had seeped out.
Seeing this, the Old Daoist smiled faintly. "Good disciple, even if you've gone through the gates of hell, your master will drag you back!"
"Brothers and sisters! My new book is out—please show it some support!"
Before you continue