Netherworld Enters Dragon Soil, Sword Soul Returns; Night March of a Hundred Ghosts, Black and White Arrive

Accompanied by that chill, Yin-cold aura, the group slowly approached the Imperial City. Before night fell, they chose a small town to rest in.

The town lay at the Throat Gate of the Capital Region, a crucial thoroughfare bustling with travelers. Yet Qiu Yan and the others did not squeeze into an inn, instead spending the night at a post station.

That night, Qiu Yan lay down early. When the moon climbed above the treetops, he rose again and lit the lamps in the room.

The firelight swayed, casting an unsteady glow through the chamber. In one corner of the room, a tall, lean figure flickered in and out of sight.

Qiu Yan was not surprised by the figure. Instead, he sat in his chair and cupped his hands in greeting.

After returning the gesture, the man stepped out from the dark corner.

"Many years have passed since I parted from Brother Qiu. I never imagined you would now possess such authority and majesty—something Xi could never have foreseen. But I wonder whether the longsword I entrusted to you back then is well?"

As he spoke, the man emerged from the shadows. He wore a gray robe that wrapped around most of his body, making him seem exceedingly thin yet upright. Even as he walked, his back remained perfectly straight, like a longsword bared to the world, its edge fully revealed.

His bare feet stepped onto the floorboards. The color of the wood abruptly changed, darkening as a decayed aura spread through it and faint black vapor drifted outward.

Looking at him, Qiu Yan said, "Brother Xi, rest assured. Though Brother Jadebreaker is not by my side, he has encountered a fortunate opportunity."

"I naturally believe you." The man walked over step by step. Once before Qiu Yan, he released