A Heart's Trial

The Black and White Double Dragons and the Golden-Winged Phoenix roared furiously as they crashed into each other! Sword winds and true fire, raging flames and surging waves, erupted into a colossal fiery tornado!

The old enemies unleashed every technique at their disposal, locked in a fierce, evenly matched battle. In the dark of night, the world was lit gold by dazzling winds and flames. They traded hundreds of moves in the blink of an eye, and with Li Fan's Foundation Establishment Stage eyesight, he simply couldn't make out a Nascent Soul Stage battle. He stared for a long while, then could only sum it up in one sentence.

Holy crap, that's awesome...

Chi Qiu circled through the raging winds and flames, then tried to charge in and join the fight. But Yao Xuanzhou beckoned toward the streak of sword light, and the bloodied flying sword flew into his hand. "Don't get in the way. If Master Zhang can't personally kill his inner demon and resolve this knot in his heart, he may never reach the Nascent Soul Stage in his lifetime."

Li Fan caught on, too. Right—if Zhang had a flying sword, why not use it? He could just kill the other guy with one slash. There was no need to insist on killing him personally, was there?

Yao Xuanzhou seemed to know what Li Fan wanted to ask and shook his head. "It's not that simple. Chi Qiu is a borrowed magical treasure, and Jiugao's mind is already in disarray. His three burners are tainted by evil karma, and he's consumed by rage. He's better off not using a sword. Breaking through with the sword momentum of the Qiankun Flying Dragon Sword Technique suits him better."

Li Fan still didn't quite understand.

The Profound Heaven Sword Intent explained: Host, flying swords aren't something you can just toss out. Those attacks you see, where someone beheads their opponent with a single strike, only come after the two sides have already settled the outcome through a clash of Divine Sense. The sword is just the finishing blow. That's why a flying sword either can't be released at all, or draws blood the moment it appears. It looks like whoever strikes first wins, which only makes it seem all the more deadly.

Yao Xuanzhou offered Li Fan a more detailed explanation. "Controlling someone else's magical treasure consumes a great deal of Divine Sense. Jiugao and Nangong Wuchen have a personal grudge going back years, and his mind is completely unsettled. He's also forcing himself to control Dao Qi a whole realm above his own. He probably doesn't have the strength left to lock on to an enemy with Divine Sense and control his sword. Nangong Wuchen is shouting insults at him so loudly and still seems full of energy; using a flying sword might not give Jiugao any advantage.

"His opponent, on the other hand, was struck by a sword earlier. His Dao body has already suffered serious damage, and his old injuries haven't healed. He can't bring his full strength to bear. Giving up the borrowed flying sword and focusing on a familiar technique like the Qiankun Flying Dragon Sword Technique is a perfectly sound approach. Qingyue, remember this. It might come in handy someday."

The Profound Heaven Sword Intent said: Xiao Yao's right. Our Beichen Sword Sect was once divided into two schools: the Sword Sect, which specialized in suppressing opponents with Divine Sense and valued beheading with flying swords, and the Qi Sect, which cultivated sword techniques and formulas alongside one another and valued breaking through with Sword Qi. They even argued over Sword Qi. Of course, everyone still used flying swords and learned all kinds of sword techniques. They just had different focuses.

So that was it. It was like specializing in one field versus learning a hundred different skills. What were the different focuses? How should you choose between these career paths?

The Profound Heaven Sword Intent said: There's not much difference. When you're killing someone, you do whatever feels right. With a flying sword, their blood doesn't splatter on you. But some people like that feeling of being drenched in blood, you know what I mean?

I don't understand! What kind of stupid distinction was that? Surely one approach had to be stronger than the other. Who won the Sword Qi dispute?

*The Profound Heaven Sword Intent said: It's hard to say. When a clash of Divine Sense ends in a draw, the Qi Sect might have the upper hand. But if you forge yourself a good flying sword, then the Sword Sect is stronger.

"If you've got a pile of junk in your hands, and can't even break through someone else's protective treasure, then suppressing them with Divine Sense won't do a damn thing. So, in the end, everyone stopped arguing. Sword or Qi, who cares? Making money and forging swords is the right path. If your flying sword is three grades worse than your opponent's, can't even catch up to their Sword Light, and shatters at the slightest collision, what's the point of fighting..."*

Damn. So, in the end, the richest guy was still the strongest. That was way too damn realistic...

During that brief moment when Li Fan's attention had wandered, Zhang Jiugao and Nangong Wuchen had already decided the battle.

It was obvious Zhang Jiugao had won. If his chances hadn't been clear, why would Yao Xuanzhou have been so confident as to stand by and watch a Golden Core Stage cultivator challenge someone at the Nascent Soul Stage?

As for Nangong Wuchen, he'd looked impressive enough, but he was nothing more than a loudmouthed braggart—a useless nobody. He had reached his current realm by destroying his body and being reborn, then relying on his family to force his cultivation forward. And even setting aside the fact that he'd already been badly wounded, he'd underestimated both Zhang Jiugao, his enemy from a previous life, and the power of the Qiankun Flying Dragon Sword Technique.

Zhang Jiugao, meanwhile, had been stuck at the Golden Core Stage, thinking of nothing but revenge and honing his swordsmanship day after day. When he'd taught Li Fan the Nangong Family's Samadhi True Fire immortal art earlier, he'd known it inside and out. Clearly, he'd spent all these years preparing for this moment.

Nangong Wuchen had probably been Zhang Jiugao's imagined enemy for countless years. One of them knew the other inside out, while the other was reckless and unprepared. What was there to wonder about?

So by the time Li Fan could see the two fighting, the outcome had already been decided.

Nangong Wuchen had been beaten in a relentless flurry of blows, unable to fight back at all. His Three Flowers and Five Qi had been shattered, his divine armor destroyed, his arms and legs broken, and a huge hole punched through his chest. His halberd and whatever else he'd been carrying had been sent flying who knew where.

Zhang Jiugao had landed in front of Nangong Wuchen, his upper body bare. He pointed his golden flying sword at Nangong Wuchen's face, which was drenched in blood, but didn't immediately strike to settle their grudge.

He was badly wounded, too. Blood covered his head and face, but Nangong Wuchen hadn't caused it; it had seeped from the capillaries beneath his skin. Two gashes had split open near his shoulder blades, and black and white true qi mixed with blood gushed from his qi acupoints, as if a pair of wings had spread from his back.

Clearly, the pills Zhang Jiugao had taken came with tremendous side effects, but the power they gave him by temporarily raising his realm was just as real.

"Where is she..." Zhang Jiugao stared fixedly at Nangong Wuchen. "There are no more Feathered Forest Heavenly Soldiers coming to rescue you this time. I have all the time in the world! Tell me! Where is she? I know she hasn't reincarnated! Tell me! Where have you hidden Senior Sister?"

Master Yao and Li Fan had been about to go over and congratulate him, perhaps even help treat his wounds. But when they heard Zhang Jiugao's roar, they stopped in their tracks. This was a personal grudge, after all. It was better to give him some space.

Nangong Wuchen gasped and coughed. Blood and bubbles of blood poured from beneath his mask as he made a strange, rattling sound. He was laughing. "So... you're still pining for that woman of yours..."

Zhang Jiugao let out a thunderous roar, lunged forward, and stomped Nangong Wuchen's mangled body into pulp. Only the head remained, still coughing up blood. Zhang Jiugao slashed his golden sword across half of Nangong Wuchen's neck, stopping at the cervical vertebrae, and roared, "Where is she?!"

"Heh... heh... hahahaha..." Nangong Wuchen's mask fell away, revealing a face covered in blood. The right side had been sliced off, leaving an empty eye socket. He stared at Zhang Jiugao with his remaining left eye and laughed. "I peeled off her skin, broke her bones, and bound her soul into an eternal lamp. I sent it to the Nangong royal mausoleum to be buried alongside my mother. She's there now, serving her as a maid."

"Arrrgh!!!" Zhang Jiugao's heart broke. He let out a hoarse, furious scream and brought his sword down!

But a flash of cold light suddenly gleamed from Nangong Wuchen's empty right eye socket. A small sword shot out of the bloodied hole, stabbing straight toward Zhang Jiugao's heart!

"Look out!" Master Yao had been on guard the whole time. At the sight of this, he shouted and hurled Chi Qiu.

In an instant, sword light flashed and blood sprayed!

"Jiugao!" "M-Master Zhang!"

Master Yao and Li Fan hurried forward. They saw that Nangong Wuchen had been struck squarely by a sword that cleaved his skull in two, killing him.

But a section of a gut sword had sunk straight into Zhang Jiugao's chest!

No, it hadn't gone all the way in.

As Li Fan moved closer, he saw that the hidden sword Nangong Wuchen had fired had been intercepted by Chi Qiu, which had caught up from behind and chopped it to pieces.

Only a small, broken sword tip had pierced Zhang Jiugao's chest. But not a drop of blood had flowed. It seemed to have been caught between his muscles and bones, with a small section of its gleaming edge still exposed.

Li Fan examined Master Zhang's wound carefully. He didn't see any major bleeding. Then he noticed that Zhang Jiugao's skin was densely covered with tattoos that resembled scripture. They had been hidden beneath the blood covering his body, but up close, they were clear.

Right! Luo Zhenren had been ambushed once before by Nangong Wuchen's flying sword, so Master Zhang must have taken precautions in advance! Thank goodness! And those scriptures—could they really stop a flying sword from piercing straight through without leaving a scratch? What kind of spell was that?

The Profound Heaven Sword Intent said: No, that's not what happened... Those scriptures... You can't say he was unscathed... What a pity...

What do you mean, that's not what happened?

"Jiugao! You—you fool!" Master Yao had also seen the scriptures on Zhang Jiugao's chest. For some reason, he suddenly flew into a rage, pointed Chi Qiu at him, and cursed, "You hopeless idiot! After all these years, you still haven't overcome your trial of love! You've even fallen in with the demonic sect! Get out! Don't come back to Bamboo Mountain!"

Zhang Jiugao expressionlessly pulled the broken sword from his chest and tossed it to the ground. He neither explained nor answered. He simply reached down, picked up Nangong Wuchen's corpse, and flew off on his sword without a word!

"Huh? Master Zhang? W-what's going on, Master Yao?"

Li Fan was utterly bewildered. Master Yao was usually so easygoing, yet he'd rarely flown into such a rage. He even stamped his foot and sprang up like an indignant pufferfish, heading out of the temple.

"Sword Intent, what's going on? Didn't we win? Why did they suddenly..."

The Profound Heaven Sword Intent said: Host, follow Xiao Yao and you'll understand.

Li Fan had no choice but to go after Xiao Yao. At this point, he had no idea where Old Zhang had flown off to.

Fortunately, Master Yao hadn't gone far. Li Fan followed the plump figure darting nimbly across the rooftops, ran out of Luo Temple, and raced all the way back to the temple gate. He caught up with Yao Xuanzhou there.

He was with the three rogue cultivators, Xuanji, Qingguo, and Jinzhao. The four of them were gathered around a blood-soaked boy, cutting open his blood-drenched Daoist robe and pulling out black threads. They were feeding him pills and channeling qi into him, trying to save his life.

And then Li Fan suddenly understood. He understood what had happened in that flash of time.

He rushed over, pulled out the gold-capped purple gourd, and poured out a Nine Revolutions Mysterious Purple Gold Pill.

But it was too late. Zhang He was dead.

His skin, too, was densely covered in scripture tattoos, and it was splitting open and bleeding from the characters. Countless sword wounds and knife scars had torn open all over his body. He looked like a porcelain doll that had fallen to the ground and shattered; his skin and pores were riddled with cracks, and blood surged out, washing the tattoos away in an instant.

Blood was pouring from his seven apertures, too. He had barely made a sound—not even a couple of twitches—before he died.

His fatal wound was probably the one-inch-wide gash over his heart, as if a broken sword tip had stabbed straight through him.