Let Them Watch

Of course, he still had a way to reach the summit. But just as he had told Zhao Layue, someone was very likely watching this place right now.

The sect master and that fellow Yuan Qijing could both see this place, if they wished.

At any other time, Jing Jiu certainly would not have continued toward the summit, but would have gone straight back. But...

He glanced at Zhao Layue and thought, This little girl would be very disappointed, wouldn't she?

"Then... let them watch."

He looked toward the peaks deep within the sea of clouds and spoke softly.

He extended a finger and lightly tapped the bracelet on Zhao Layue's wrist.

Without a sound, the bracelet left the girl's wrist and turned into the Sword Restraint, which he held in his hand.

For some reason, this far-from-ordinary Sword Restraint was actually willing to obey his commands.

With a slight stirring of his will, the Sword Restraint sprang out like a snake and coiled around Zhao Layue's body.

He unfastened the sword from his back, thought for a moment, then put it away again. Lifting Zhao Layue, he headed up the peak.

His technique was ingenious, distributing the pressure evenly wherever the Sword Restraint touched her body.

Held in his hand, Zhao Layue was like someone sleeping in a hammock. She slept soundly and did not wake.

Jing Jiu's way of climbing the peak was naturally entirely different from Zhao Layue's.

He did not proceed cautiously as Zhao Layue had, taking three steps forward and two back, sometimes turning left, sometimes darting lightly ahead.

He observed no particular method. He simply walked straight ahead.

Two steps along the mountain path, he encountered a strand of sword intent.

With a crisp, loud crack, a tear appeared in his white robe.

He continued forward without the slightest pause, as though he had noticed nothing.

As he continued along the mountain path, his steps grew faster and faster, the strands of sword intent he encountered grew more and more numerous, and the crisp sounds came in ever quicker succession.

Crack, crack, crack, crack! It was like a violent storm descending, like countless bowstrings snapping at once, like countless swords clashing against one another.

The sounds of swords rang out without cease. The regions separated by the sword array were forcibly connected, and the sounds echoed between the cliffs, unable to escape the peak. Gradually, they mingled, growing deeper and deeper, more and more terrifying, like thunder sweeping relentlessly over the mountain path.

Had anyone been on this stretch of mountain path then, the thunder formed from those myriad sword sounds would likely have deafened them outright.

Zhao Layue was not startled awake. Her cheeks were rosy, and she slept extremely soundly. It seemed Jing Jiu was protecting her well.

An unknown length of time passed. The night remained deep, and morning light had yet to arrive.

The summit of Divine End Peak was already before him.

Several buildings could faintly be seen among the green peaks and sheer cliffs.

Jing Jiu stopped and rubbed his face.

Having forced his way here through the peak, breaking through so many strands of sword intent, even his face felt a little numb.

His white robe was special, impervious to water and fire and capable of withstanding flying swords, but even it had been reduced to tatters.

Dozens of strips of cloth hung from him, exposing his white-jade-like body. He looked quite bedraggled.

Suddenly, wind sounded among the cliffs, wailing ceaselessly, mournful beyond measure, like ghosts weeping.

Dozens of cold, dim clumps of soul fire drifted from the cracks in the cliff ahead. Gradually, they gathered together, revealing a hideous, savage face that looked utterly terrifying.

"No wonder Mochi's nickname back then was Nether Spirit. It really is ugly."

Jing Jiu looked at the Nether Spirit exuding its sinister aura and shook his head.

Many years ago, after True Person Taiping had entered seclusion from which he would not emerge unless he broke through, a great battle between powerful cultivators of the human dynasty and the Ice and Snow Kingdom had taken place on the Lanling Snowfield.

The sect master had taken all the Sword Dao masters of the Nine Peaks to provide aid, leaving only ordinary disciples to guard Green Mountain.

Just then, the Curtain Rollers had lost several pieces of extremely important information, which had fallen into the Nether Master's hands.

This mighty figure of the Netherworld had led his subordinates through a flaw in the Green Mountain Grand Array recorded in that information, infiltrating the Nine Peaks to obtain a certain thing.

They had not expected that thing to be not in the Sword Prison on Shangde Peak, but on Divine End Peak.

The Nether Master had made his deductions and calculations and concluded that Jingyang should be in seclusion. The opportunity could not be missed.

Jingyang had spent most of his life in seclusion, so the calculation had not been wrong.

But the Nether Master had not expected that, the moment they stepped into the Green Mountain Nine Peaks, the four great guardians would awaken simultaneously, and so Jingyang had emerged from seclusion.

Facing those Netherworld masters, Jingyang had slain them with a single strike.

The Nether Master had also suffered severe injuries and had nearly failed to escape.

Because this affair involved a great secret of the Green Mountain Sect and was also connected to the Curtain Rollers, it had been covered up extremely thoroughly.

Naturally, the Nether Department would not publicize its own crushing defeat, so even now, few people knew of the incident.

After returning, the sect master of Green Mountain had felt that they ought to clear away the remnants of soul fire, or at least dispose of the bodies scattered around the summit of Divine End Peak.

Jingyang had thought it too troublesome. Divine End Peak had no disciples and would have no guests, so why bother?

Thus, the bodies of those Nether Department masters had remained scattered among the broken cliffs, battered by wind and rain until they became white bones, then turned to dust.

The fragments of soul fire, however, had remained, and had now become something like vengeful spirits.

Vengeful spirits formed from this kind of soul fire had no intelligence, only resentment and vicious intent. They might have posed some trouble for ordinary disciples.

But in Jing Jiu's eyes, these remnants of soul fire were no different from the smoke produced by damp firewood that had not burned completely in a stove.

"Disperse."

Carrying Zhao Layue, he walked toward the summit.

He did not pause in the slightest as he passed that terrifying Nether Spirit.

The Nether Spirit let out a piercing, desolate shriek, trying to swallow Jing Jiu into its belly.

Suddenly, the Nether Spirit broke apart, turning back into dozens of cold, dim clumps of nether fire. Those flames screamed in terror, desperately fleeing toward the surroundings of the summit, but before they could get far, they fell helplessly onto the cliff rocks, turned into dozens of wisps of blue smoke, and vanished without a trace.

Waiting for them to gather before dealing with them really is much simpler than searching everywhere.

Thinking this, Jing Jiu walked into the small building at the summit. Like most buildings on Green Mountain, it too had a cave behind it.

This was Jingyang's former cave abode.

Naturally, the buildings were constructed from solid timber cut from the most precious giant trees, and the floors were paved with beautiful white jade. The carved beams and painted rafters were not vulgar; every detail spoke of perfection.

But clearly, no one had come here for a very long time. A thin layer of dust covered both the spaces between the beams and the jade-paved floor.

Jing Jiu walked to the wall, reached out, and turned the luminous pearl set into it.

With several soft clicks, the floor trembled slightly, and something began to turn.

A gentle breeze slowly arrived, lifting the dust from the beams and floor and blowing it outside. Soon, the cave abode was spotless and extremely clean.

Jing Jiu set Zhao Layue on the floor and walked around the building, occasionally reaching out to touch the stone walls, pillars, and vessels.

Finally, he came to the center of the small building and looked around with his hands behind his back, feeling somewhat moved.

He had not expected to see these things again so soon.

Zhao Layue had changed his plans, but now, it felt rather good.

He walked into the cave abode and pressed lightly on the stone wall at its end. The wall opened soundlessly, revealing a quiet chamber.

Dozens of garments hung inside the stone chamber, mostly in plain colors, giving it a rather tranquil appearance.

Jing Jiu's fingers brushed slowly over these garments before finally stopping.

He selected a white robe. It did not fit particularly well, but he could just about wear it.