Yin Qiyue murmured to herself, but no one answered her.
"Come down." Qin Wangchuan's voice from afar pulled her back.
Below, Qinglan Holy Land had long since formed up in solemn readiness.
"Welcome, Immortal!"
The Holy Land's Sect Master knelt prostrate on the ground, his voice resounding through the mountains.
Throughout Qinglan Holy Land, from elders and deacons to disciples and servants, all bowed their heads, their foreheads pressed tightly to the ground in the utmost reverence.
--No different from last time.
Yet utterly different.
Yin Qiyue followed behind Qin Wangchuan as she slowly descended from the Flying Ship, her gaze lowered slightly.
Their identities were different.
Last time, she had been one among the kneeling crowd; this time, she finally saw clearly.
Or perhaps she could not see clearly at all.
All she could see were little black dots kneeling on the ground.
Like looking at ants.
Yin Qiyue thought to herself, then secretly glanced at Qin Wangchuan at the front and continued her train of thought:
Has he already grown accustomed to being worshipped like this?
"What orders does the Immortal have?"
Xuanmingzi asked in a trembling voice, his forehead pressed tightly to the ground.
His luxurious Purple Gold Daoist Robe lay spread across the bluestone slabs, its intricate cloud-patterned cuffs now stained with dust.
The auras of these Immortals before him were even more powerful than those who had visited last time.
That intangible pressure seemed almost solid, making even the air around them thick and viscous.
From Yin Qiyue's perspective, the backs of the elders kneeling in the front row were already drenched in cold sweat, yet none dared even wipe themselves.
So... even one as powerful as the Sect Master was no different from an ordinary person.
She suddenly realized that if they did not know her, then in the eyes of these worshippers, she too was no different from an Immortal.
What was even more terrifying was--
Unlike those Young Masters she had seen before, who merely put on airs, the young master seemed truly accustomed to this, as though it were innate.
Not a single ripple stirred in his calm eyes. It was as though the worship of these people beneath his feet was as ordinary a sight as morning dew slipping from a leaf tip in the mountains.
Qin Wangchuan lowered his head and swept his gaze over him, giving him an indifferent glance.
"You are the Qinglan Sect Master?"
His voice was neither hurried nor slow.
The kneeling Xuanmingzi shuddered, yet he still did not dare straighten his back completely.
"This old servant is indeed the one. Immortal, please give your orders. Qinglan Holy Land, from top to bottom, will certainly devote all its strength and brave fire and water without hesitation!"
Before his words had even faded, a bead of cold sweat slid down from his temple and splashed onto the bluestone floor, sending up an almost imperceptible spray.
After speaking, Xuanmingzi lowered himself even further, nearly sprawled on the ground like a toad. The back hem of his gold-embroidered Daoist robe trembled gently in the morning breeze, as if even the fabric itself were shivering in fear.
After confirming the identity of the person before him, Qin Wangchuan wasted no words. He raised his hand and drew the character "slay" in the air.
The instant the golden rune took shape, a streak of Sword Qi tore through the air!
Sshhk--
Blood burst forth.
Xuanmingzi, who had commanded Qinglan Holy Land for centuries, did not even have time to show his shock before the center of his body bizarrely dissolved into nothingness.
Where that golden Sword Qi passed, flesh and bone silently evaporated. Only the left and right halves of his body remained, frozen in their kneeling posture.
Deprived of support, his luxurious Daoist robe slowly toppled to either side like a butterfly with broken wings. This True Person Sect Master, who had once commanded the winds and clouds, crashed to the ground as two separated halves of a corpse before everyone's eyes.
The Sword Qi did not stop afterward. Like the heavenly river pouring down, it spanned dozens of miles across the sky.
Where it passed, mountains split and cloud-lit mists parted. It plowed a bottomless ravine through Qinglan Holy Land's ancient thousand-year road before finally plunging into Bibo Lake at the foot of the mountain.
As it sent up a curtain of water a thousand zhang high, the entire lake was cleaved in two, then returned to stillness.
[Target One: Completed; Simulation Count +1, Origin Source +75] [Target Two: Failed.] [Target Three: Completed; Origin Source +150]
(Congratulations to the host for completing an almost impossible task! According to the system's calculations, this task's success rate was only 0.0000000000001%! Yet the host has created a miracle unprecedented before and never to be repeated, through heaven-defying Qi Yun and unrelenting spirit!)
Listening to the system's absurdly exaggerated praise in his mind, Qin Wangchuan felt neither accomplishment nor joy at completing the task. At that moment, he had only one thought:
He wanted to laugh.
Yet his casual strike had not only shocked everyone else; even Li Qingluan, a genius of the Sword Dao, was stunned.
"Was that Sword Seals you used just now?"
"But why could you use it without a sword???"
[Current Origin Source: 19.5 times.] [Current Simulation Count: 1]
Over the past few years, he had gained several Simulation Counts through daily sign-ins at home, but the results had not been ideal.
Fortunately, his Origin Source was already approaching twenty times.
"Why must I use a sword?" Qin Wangchuan asked in return, then looked toward the strike he had just unleashed.
It had not simply been a single character, but, as in his previous discussions, a fusion of his comprehension of the six characters stand, slay, suspend, fall, guard, and execute into one supremely simple character: slay.
In essence, it was no longer a Spirit Art, but a Dao Art.
With the enhancement of the Supreme Dao Heart, its power was simply heaven-defying. Even he himself had been slightly startled.
Li Qingluan widened her eyes. "Since it is Sword Seals, naturally one must use a sword as the medium. That is common sense!"
"Is that so?"
"Isn't it?"
For a moment, the two merely stared at each other with wide eyes.
When his gaze fell upon the sword at Li Qingluan's waist, he suddenly understood.
The environments in which they had grown up were different.
--She had been born into an Aristocratic Clan of the Sword Dao and had slept beside a sword since childhood;
--while he had been born into the Qin Clan, where strength reigned supreme.
As one of the Heavenly Sword Li Clan, how could she ever entertain the thought of setting down her sword?
"It can be used without a sword...?"
Li Qingluan looked toward the Li Clan members behind her, but everyone who met her gaze shook their heads.
They had never heard of it either.
After the confusion came shock.
Doesn't that mean Young Master Qin was born with a sword heart?
At once, everyone's expressions became complicated.
They were already future relatives by marriage, yet he had concealed such important information.
Qin Wangchuan did not notice what the others were thinking. As his thoughts churned, several ideas quietly surfaced:
Had I taken the wrong path again?
Would it be even more powerful if I used a sword?
He shook his head and temporarily set those thoughts aside. He would explore them after returning home.
His gaze then shifted forward.
Qinglan Holy Land was deathly still.
Xuanmingzi's mangled remains lay sprawled on the ground, blood silently soaking into the bluestone, yet not a single person dared raise their head.
--The Sect Master was dead.
--Erased by a single streak of Sword Qi, as easily as crushing an ant.
The kneeling bodies of the Holy Land's elders trembled faintly, their foreheads pressed desperately to the ground, even their breathing frozen.
They could clearly hear the pounding of their own hearts, yet they did not dare let their robes make the slightest rustling sound, afraid of drawing that person's attention.
I'll die...
If I raise my head, I'll die...
Several elders' Magic Treasures lay beside their hands, yet none dared so much as move a finger.
The people who had just been discussing how to deal with Yin Qiyue now had only one thought left in their minds--
Please, don't let him notice me...
A mountain wind swept past, carrying several dead leaves across the plaza filled with kneeling cultivators.
Those True Disciples and Deacon Elders, who ordinarily stood high above all others, now all seemed to have had their spines pulled out, curled up like shrimp.
Some had chattering teeth, yet bit their tongues hard and swallowed the taste of blood; others sweated as if in rain, forming small puddles on the ground, yet dared not wipe themselves.
They did not even dare show grief or anger--because in the eyes of Upper Realm Immortals, even such emotions might be an offense.
Resist?
What a joke.
Yin Qiyue stood behind Qin Wangchuan, her expression complicated as she watched his back.
The Sect Master showed me kindness. Why did the young master kill him?
Was there some reason? Or was he simply bloodthirsty?
She did not know the reason behind it, and Qin Wangchuan had no need to explain it to her.
He merely stood there, yet the entire Holy Land was crushed into bowing low.
"Your Qinglan Holy Land is far from peaceful."
The youth's calm voice descended like the laws of Heaven, echoing through the deathly silent plaza.
The moment his words fell, he turned and left with the others, his robes fluttering as they stirred a faint breeze.
The crowd remained kneeling on the ground, looking at one another.
Though no one could understand his meaning, they all knew one thing clearly--
This was not judgment.
It was mercy.
It was an Immortal taking pity on them, granting ants the grace to continue living in miserable survival.
"Oh, right."
Qin Wangchuan suddenly stopped and turned back. This simple movement made everyone present draw a sharp breath, as though even the air had frozen solid.
With a casual toss, he sent two objects arcing toward Yin Qiyue--
An ancient mirror engraved with cloud patterns, obscure Dao Rhyme flowing over its surface beneath the sunlight;
A Cyan Jade Pill Bottle, from which the faint sounds of dragons roaring and tigers howling could be heard.
"This item is called the Tongxuan Mirror. When needed, I will contact you through it." Qin Wangchuan's voice remained indifferent, yet Yin Qiyue instinctively straightened her back.
After a brief pause, he added, "The pills in the bottle are merely an extra..."
"How far you can go will depend entirely on your own fortune."
Before you continue