"Huh?"
The moment Jing Qian stepped into the Sword-Grinding Cliff, he immediately sensed something unusual.
This strange passage was in fact a stable spacetime tunnel, leading directly into a cave-heaven.
Inside, the vital energy was so abundant it seemed tangible. Jing Qian felt as though he had plunged into the depths of an ocean, his whole body immersed.
No sooner had they entered than a light, delicate, almost fragile female voice drifted into their ears:
"Brother Shang Xi, you've finally come to see me again!"
"Lingling missed you so much!"
"Are your injuries any better, brother?"
The voice carried a bewitching charm, tugging at the soul. Hearing it, Jing Qian's heart wavered. It was as if all the beautiful women he had ever seen in his life had merged into one, whispering intimately into his ear.
His future master actually had such a secret golden house for hidden beauty? Jing Qian couldn't help but look at him with fresh eyes.
And is this also something I'm supposed to inherit…?
The next instant, the many Heavenly Mandates in Jing Qian's sea of consciousness flared wildly, working together to rip away a strand of karmic thread, a line of fated entanglement, and even a fishing-hook sigil that had latched onto his spirit.
The fright nearly made Jing Qian soil himself. If not for Shang Xi's calm composure, he would have already fled this cave-heaven without looking back.
"Oh? Brother Shang Xi, the disciple you've brought this time is far stronger than the others before."
"If you nurture him well for a few years, he might truly inherit your mantle."
"But you mustn't talk of dying! I've already changed. I won't torment you anymore. Stay with me a few more years, perhaps there will be a turn for the better!"
"Good disciple, what bright eyes you have. Go on, look boldly, there's nothing your mistress can't let you see."
"Persuade your master, will you? The paths to enlightenment are many, why cling so stubbornly to just one?"
Jing Qian's nerves were strung to the breaking point. The voice's enchantment pulled him toward surrender, but beneath it lay immense terror and oppression.
He flung his Worldly Insight outward, scouring the cave-heaven for the source. And when the owner of the voice deliberately dropped her veil, he finally saw her at the bottom of the domain.
A girl sat cross-legged atop a stone platform, cradling a jade short-sword inscribed with runes, smiling directly at him.
And in that moment, she even bared part of her information for him to see:
This girl was neither human nor ghost, neither alive nor dead—she was a Celestial Zombie!
[Mother Yasha · Lingling]
Rank: 2nd Tier
Mandates: Allure, Source of Zombies, Yin Spirit Immortal Qi
Note: I am your most beautiful first mistress. Shang Xi and I are the best in the world together; you must be filial to me!
Another second-tier great fiend!
So before he'd even formally entered the sect, the number of top-tier monsters sealed in Pure Yang Heaven already outnumbered its disciples.
Jing Qian couldn't help thinking his sect was deeply problematic. He hadn't even finished his initiation, and already his mental state was beginning to fray, as though he wanted to go mad and drag the world down with him.
But that only made him more curious about what other surprises Pure Yang Heaven still has in store.
At this moment, Shang Xi spoke:
"You actually possess such powers of perception? That saves me no small effort."
"This is the Pure Yang Cave-Heaven, the very heart of our sect."
"The being sealed here, the Mother Yasha, was another of the second-tier fiends that invaded during the Great Calamity."
"My martial aunt, with only third-tier cultivation, fought two of them, the Wuzhiqi and this Mother Yasha, barely managing to suppress them. That already cost her everything."
"But at the second tier, beings are already woven deeply into the laws of the Dao. Unless an even higher-ranked force eradicates their existence, they cannot be killed, only sealed."
"My martial aunt used her life-bound spirit weapon, the Two-Polarity Annihilation Sword, to seal Wuzhiqi. I, with my life-bound spiritual construct, the Great Wei Sword, was forced to suppress Mother Yasha. Together, we barely held the line."
"Yet after my aunt's death and reincarnation, her spiritual construct gradually weakened. Its power to bind Wuzhiqi waned. In these past years, I've had to divide my strength, using my own essence to feed the Two-Polarity Sword as well. Truly, it has stretched me beyond my limits."
"Woo… woo…"
Shang Xi hadn't even finished speaking when Lingling below suddenly burst into sobs, her weeping like a torrential downpour, pitiful and heart-wrenching to behold.
"Brother Shang Xi, you've suffered so much!"
"You're forced to guard two seals at once, your cultivated power drained dry, how could anyone endure that?"
"And worse, your path of advancement has been cut off. You've languished at the Earth Fiend realm for three thousand years, without your life-bound Great Wei Sword to suppress the Fiendfire. You've survived on sheer will alone; any other immortal or god would have been burned to ashes long ago!"
"Good disciple, you're still too low in the realm to understand how difficult cultivation at the Earth Fiend stage truly is. At this level, human cultivators must nurture Fiendfire within themselves, infusing it into their flesh, sea of consciousness, and burning even their soul and nascent dharma-image so that from that torment, a trace of immortal qi may be forged. Only then can one resonate with the stars, reflect their radiance inward, and use celestial essence to carry further cultivation."
"This agony of Fiendfire burning flesh and refining spirit is torment without end. Even with a life-bound Spiritual Construct to hold it down, it consumes day and night, destroying countless brilliant geniuses."
"But your master doesn't even have his own Spiritual Construct at his side. The torment he endures is tenfold, a hundredfold greater than others! He's suffered far too much. My heart aches for him… wu wu wu…"
Hearing this, Jing Qian couldn't help but feel solemn respect.
He had studied The Dao Book of the Nether Cycle of Yanfu, which devoted many passages to methods of easing the torment of Fiendfire at the Earth Fiend stage.
He had deliberately delayed his own advancement, holding onto the Flesh-Nurturing Bud Life Pattern, so that once he reached the Fifth Grade, he could forge a secret art to temper that agony.
But his master was simply enduring it head-on, too ferocious, too unyielding!
Compared to Shang Xi, his own cultivation path seemed almost easy.
Just imagining himself in Shang Xi's place filled Jing Qian with waves of despair he could hardly bear.
At that moment, Shang Xi spoke:
"Lingling, three thousand years of Fiendfire burning me is nothing compared to the peril of your nightly erosion of my soul and Dao-heart."
"Do not fret. When I die, I will certainly take you with me into reincarnation. Our karmic bond runs deep through a hundred lives and cycles; we will linger together. You will not be left here alone, nor will my disciple be burdened with your upkeep."
That single remark silenced Lingling instantly. Even her sobs diminished, her lips pursed in sulky anger.
Shang Xi's power was immense, his lifespan unending, yet three millennia of Fiendfire scorching him, compounded by the torment of a celestial zombie gnawing at his spirit, had long since drained his Dao-heart dry. He was truly a lamp burning its final oil.
This exhaustion of will, this self-destructive longing for release, "I no longer wish to live," was even more terrifying than the natural end of lifespan.
Jing Qian's worldview was shattered, rebuilt, and shattered again. He realized how narrow his perspective still was, how little he had truly seen.
The grudges and entanglements of a top-tier lineage involved torments that spanned three thousand years, and threats of dragging one another through a hundred cycles of rebirth. It was staggering beyond belief.
He had to find a way to keep his master alive. Pure Yang Heaven was riddled with dangers inside and out, and he was far too small to bear its weight alone.
As they spoke, Shang Xi led him to a towering, jagged mountain ahead.
This mountain bristled with countless swords of every shape and length, yet each one carried extraordinary power and resonance.
Shang Xi gestured toward the peak and said:
"This is another foundation of our sect, the Hidden Sword Mountain. Within it, countless sword embryos are nurtured."
"When you condense your dharma-image, you may come here to choose a sword embryo, place it into your Sword Casket, and nourish it with your root sword qi."
"In this way, from the Dragon Elephant realm onward, through the entire Longevity path, you can temper your future Spiritual Construct in advance."
"Once you have nurtured that embryo with your very life-essence until it matures into destiny, it will transform into your life-bound Spirit Sword. With it, you may ascend to the Subduing Spirit stage."
"All disciples of Pure Yang Heaven rely on the swords of Hidden Sword Mountain to ascend into the Middle Three Grades."
"If your foundation is deep enough, your fortune strong enough, you may even forge a Spirit Sword of the Upper Three Grades. Then you would inherit the Heavenly Title of Pure Yang Son, becoming the core true heir of our sect."
"My martial aunt and I were the last two Pure Yang Sons. Your talent and fortune surpass mine, falling short only of my aunt's brilliance. If your Dao-heart remains steadfast, you will surely forge a worthy sword and restore the glory of Pure Yang."
Jing Qian's heart trembled at his words. He looked upon Hidden Sword Mountain with renewed awe.
This was the true foundation of a top sword sect.
A clear path, Sword Casket and Spirit Sword together, nurtured step by step enough to form the very roots of his Dao.
But whether forging the Casket, nourishing sword qi, or refining a Spirit Sword, every step demanded great talent and fortune.
For the past three thousand years, Shang Xi had been bound by two imprisoned second-tier fiends, consuming ninety-nine percent of his strength and will. He had no capacity left to select or guide worthy disciples.
Even knowing that the Lower Three Sects schemed to thwart him, denying him strong heirs, he had been powerless to act.
Yet perhaps Pure Yang Heaven's destiny was not yet spent. By some miracle, Jing Qian had broken through every barrier to walk into the sect on his own.
Such a stroke of fortune was like rain upon parched soil; it even stirred Shang Xi's long-deadened spirit.
He guided Jing Qian past Hidden Sword Mountain, deeper into the Pure Yang Cave-Heaven. Passing through layers of mist, they arrived at a small lotus pond.
Within, lotuses grew leaves green tinged with violet, blossoms shimmering with silver and gold.
At the pond's center stood a sword furnace taller than a man. Though long extinguished, it still radiated a searing heat.
Shang Xi pointed toward the lotus pond and the sword furnace and continued:
"When you inherit the sect's legacy, you too will plant a lotus in this Sword-Lotus Pool."
"This pool is no ordinary place; it is the fundamental Life Furnace of Pure Yang Heaven, and also a supreme Spiritual Construct capable of reflecting across the void."
"With it, no matter where our disciples may wander in the cosmos, they can glimpse the Pure Yang Cave-Heaven and use it as a beacon to return to the Yingfutu Realm."
"But after the Great Calamity, the Fate Fire within the pool went out. Without that fire to fuel it, the beacon can no longer shine across the void."
"For hundreds of thousands of years, Pure Yang Heaven has stood. I do not know how many of our ancestors went wandering into the void, never to return. What I do know is that at least five of them may still be alive, with a chance to come back."
"If even one of them returns, the crisis of our lineage will be resolved."
"Yet across the myriad realms, separated by time and space, without this beacon rekindled, their path back is nearly impossible. And truthfully, most of our elders would care little for the affairs of the realm; they care only for their own Dao."
"Still, if any of those five ancestors were to advance in cultivation, they would inevitably return once to use the Grinding Sword Cliff and double their root sword qi."
"The records of our sect are clear: for one at the Third Grade to ascend into the Second, their return to the sect is almost always their final appearance."
"So, others may not be relied upon. But you are still young. After I die, you will live long enough to await the return of at least one of them."
Hearing this, Jing Qian could not help but ask:
"Master, since that is so, why not find a way to rekindle this Life Furnace sooner, and hasten their return?"
Shang Xi shook his head.
"You think I have not tried?"
"To ignite this furnace, neither cultivation, nor worldly energy, nor leyline power will suffice. Only a sword-light strong enough to strike directly into the furnace can awaken its might and kindle the Fate Fire."
"Even in my prime, when my cultivation was at its peak, I tried many times. Yet I was still far too weak."
"Now my essence is depleted, my Spiritual Construct dulled. I am even less capable."
"But before I die, I will attempt to self-detonate my life-bound Great Wei Sword to light this furnace for you. Do not worry, this burden is not yours to bear."
Shang Xi truly had exhausted every thought for Pure Yang Heaven. Even his own death had been folded into his plans to salvage what remained of the sect.
From Pure Yang Heaven's fall into Pure Yang Ruins, the lineage had plunged to its lowest point. Were it not for Shang Xi alone holding the line, its fate would have mirrored that of Yanfu Dao, complete annihilation.
That the two greatest lineages of the realm could meet such different ends was due entirely to Shang Xi's unyielding will.
The two pressed onward, passing the Sword-Lotus Pool until they reached a painting.
Upon the scroll was depicted nothing more than an ordinary, plain bronze longsword, without aura, seemingly no more than a mortal object.
Yet even Shang Xi stood before it with utmost solemnity.
He pointed at the painting and said:
"Once you inscribe your name upon this Pure Yang Sword Diagram, we shall be bound as master and disciple. You will be formally entered into the sect as a true heir."
"Three thousand years ago, when our sect flourished, such a ceremony would never have been so simple. But now, with only the two of us left, there is little point in fussing with empty rituals."
"Still, before you enter, I must explain to you clearly the way of cultivation within Pure Yang Heaven."
At these words, Jing Qian's spirit jolted. He gathered his focus completely. The guidance of a top-tier sword cultivator was a chance no amount of self-study could replace.
Shang Xi continued:
"Pure Yang Heaven is a lineage of sword cultivation. You have already forged your Sword Casket, so you should know this well."
"In the beginning, our founders practiced much like other lineages, accumulating power and advancing step by step. But once the unique Sword Casket system took form, our path changed into what it is today."
"As Pure Yang sword cultivators, our foundation is the sword. Forging the Sword Casket, nourishing sword qi, and refining the Spirit Sword, these are the core of cultivation from the Lower Three Grades into the Middle Three."
"These three pillars grant us strength far beyond our peers. They let us seize overwhelming advantage in battle, and from victory gather resources, feeding back into cultivation, to grow even stronger."
"This cycle repeats endlessly, like a snowball rolling down a mountain growing larger and larger, until it becomes an avalanche capable of burying the world."
"This is the essence of our path: cultivation driven by battle, advancement purchased through slaughter."
"Whenever you meet a difficulty in cultivation, the answer is always the same: ask yourself, does it increase my combat strength?"
"Outsiders say our Pure Yang Heaven is steeped in demonic nature that we are nothing but battle-mad killers, war fiends without restraint."
"But as your master, I must tell you they see only half the truth."
"For a true heir of Pure Yang, beyond being skilled at battle, is most skilled at avoiding battle."
"I, Shang Xi, have cultivated for three thousand two hundred years. Aside from the Great Calamity, when the foe was too strong to resist and I had no choice but to fight for the sect, I have faced opponents stronger than myself in more than seventeen hundred duels. And in all that time, I have never once been defeated."
"This is partly due to my swordsmanship. But more than that, it is because of how I choose my opponents and how I seize the moment to strike. That is my greatest skill, my deepest confidence."
"Before every battle, I already know whether I can win, and how I can win. Any foe I cannot defeat, I avoid."
"My Pure Yang true heirs never fight unprepared battles and never fight battles without the certainty of victory."
"And the reason I can maintain this to such an extreme lies in a secret of Pure Yang Heaven that is never passed down lightly."
As Shang Xi spoke, a pure-white eye suddenly opened at the center of his brow, fixing its gaze on Jing Qian.
Jing Qian felt as though a strange invitation had been extended to his divine sense.
He accepted, and in the next instant, his awareness shifted into an illusory realm, descending onto a snowcapped mountain.
Here, Shang Xi stood tall with his iron sword in hand, surging with power; gone was the frailty of an old man.
Within the illusion, Shang Xi spoke again:
"As a true heir, you are entitled to be taught Pure Yang Heaven's forbidden secret, the Pure Yang Golden Eye Art."
"With this art, one can refine a portion of the divine sea at the brow into a Spiritual Construct, the Golden Eye of Pure Yang, brimming with boundless mysteries. It is one of the foremost investigative methods under heaven."
"Relying on this, one may see through all enemies' strengths and weaknesses, discern their power, and analyze the flow of battle."
"With the Golden Eye, a Pure Yang sword cultivator becomes complete. From that point on, turning the tide of battle is no longer gambling with one's life, but a matter of prediction and choice fights chosen only when victory is assured."
"I, through this art, refined the Moon-Breaking Rebirth Eye, capable of dragging foes into illusion in an instant, where I can rehearse countless life-or-death duels until I find the path to certain victory."
"This is why, across seventeen hundred desperate battles, I have never once been defeated."
"Now, I have drawn you into my illusion precisely so you may experience the power of this eye for yourself."
With that, Shang Xi casually swung his sword, sending a blazing sword-light slashing toward Jing Qian.
It was neither too fast nor too slow, leaving him just enough time to react.
Jing Qian flared his Sumeru Ghostskin, answering with his own sword-light to meet the strike.
But where Jing Qian loosed flurries of sword-beams, Shang Xi was protected by a shimmering sword-shield, dissolving them all with ease.
His single strike, however, was inescapable; no amount of evasion or interception could alter its course.
Jing Qian was cut down, his ghostskin pierced, his head severed in one blow.
Jing Qian had simulated countless battles in his life-tablet space, gaining endless combat experience, but he had never imagined he would one day become the one simulated by another.
Resurrected, he flared into light again, only to fall once more to Shang Xi's inescapable strike.
No matter how he fought, Shang Xi always herded him into a dead corner, cutting him down with a single sword.
For all his battle-hardened skill, Jing Qian had never endured a fight so suffocating.
It was as though he were a puppet in Shang Xi's grasp, every move anticipated, every death preordained.
At that moment, Shang Xi spoke again:
"Don't hold back, use your cave-heaven power, unleash your Yanfu Dao methods. From the moment we met, my Rebirth Eye had already slain you several times. You have no secrets before me."
Jing Qian's heart trembled, but he obeyed. He vanished into the Sumeru Dimension, at last escaping the cycle of instant defeat.
With dimensional strength at his back, he finally evaded a fatal blow.
But even in another realm, Shang Xi's Rebirth Eye saw him clearly. Sword-light followed without hesitation.
This time, Shang Xi conjured his Great Wei Sword within the illusion.
A Pure Yang heir was only complete with his life-bound sword in hand and without the burden of suppressing the Mother Yaksha, Shang Xi's unleashed might was far beyond Jing Qian's reach.
The Second Grade Great Wei Sword tore open the dimensional wall, its strike cleaving into the Sumeru realm itself.
Jing Qian strained every ounce of his space power and, in the final instant, invoked the power of the Bridge of No Return, displacing himself and the sword into separate layers of space, narrowly escaping death.
But the Great Wei Sword had already entered the Sumeru Dimension. Inevitably, Jing Qian was cornered once more and beheaded in an instant.
Unwilling, he revived again and again, trying every method he had.
But with each death, Shang Xi only grew sharper until, after his forty-seventh fall, Shang Xi no longer even bothered to summon the Great Wei Sword.
Casual swings of sword-light alone pierced dimensions, locking Jing Qian in place and cutting him down.
At last, Jing Qian's spirit broke. He cast aside his sword and admitted defeat.
When he withdrew from the illusion and looked again upon Shang Xi, his respect had deepened beyond measure.
His master, this Pure Yang Son, was indeed unmatched. Even with a ruined body, his effortless strikes could utterly overwhelm him.
The white eye at Shang Xi's brow closed. With a turn of his hand, he produced a crystalline eyeball and said:
"This is the Eye of Wu Zhiqi, a Second Grade treasure, the finest opening-eye spirit I still possess."
"With it, I shall open your Golden Eye, and formally induct you into the sect."
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