“It’s Elder Qin!”

“Elder Qin has joined the fray!”

Amidst the chaos and blood, the disciples of the Eastern Sage Sect—who had been steadily losing ground—erupted in cries of desperate joy.

The Heavenly Gate Sect’s assault had been too sudden, too clinical.

The Sect’s protective mountain formation had collapsed almost instantly, breached before the alarm bells could fully ring. Many disciples were cut down while still in deep meditation, slaughtered before they could even draw a breath of realization.

By the time the survivors rallied, the enemy was already inside the gates. Forced into frantic close-quarters combat against a prepared invader, the Eastern Sage disciples lost their footing and were driven back, step by bloody step.

But the sudden intervention of Elder Qin Heng, the Head Elder of the Punishment Hall, acted as an anchor in the storm.

He was a Golden Core True Person, second in power only to the Sect Leader himself. Even among peers of the same realm, his prowess was outstanding. His presence alone was enough to freeze the invading tide.

Sensing the dangerous fluctuation of spiritual pressure, the Heavenly Gate Sect’s offensive stalled.

At that moment, a phantom figure floated up from the outer perimeter, treading on the air as if it were solid ground.

Dressed in flowing purple robes, with long sleeves dancing in the wind and a face radiating benevolence, he looked like an ancient immortal sage descending from the heavens.

He chuckled warmly, his voice carrying effortlessly over the din of battle.

“Fellow Daoist Qin Heng. This old man did not come here to make an enemy of your noble Sect. I have simply taken a liking to this blessed land of yours. I wonder… could Fellow Daoist be persuaded to part with it?”

A heavy silence fell over the Sect’s core.

Then, Elder Qin’s voice cut through the air, cold as glacial ice.

“Jing Kongcheng. So it is you.”

Before the echo faded, a streak of blinding sword radiance shot from the central peak. It halted abruptly in mid-air, solidifying into a figure that stood toe-to-toe with the invader.

The light receded, revealing Qin Heng.

Clad in dark golden Daoist robes, with hair like white crane feathers and skin weathered by time, he appeared to be a mortal in his twilight years. Yet, his posture was as straight as a spear, and his gaze was sharp enough to draw blood. Within his narrowed eyes, endless streams of sword light seemed to cycle and flow.

“Jing Kongcheng,” Qin Heng spat the name. “If you think these heretical rogue cultivators you dragged along are enough to swallow my Eastern Sage Sect—even with the Sect Leader absent—you are sorely mistaken.”

“Whether it is enough or not,” Jing Kongcheng replied with that same infuriatingly kindly smile, “is not for you to decide. Since you have come out, you may as well stay!”

He flipped his palm.

Hiss!

Countless white bones shot from his sleeves like a swarm of pythons, shrieking through the air as they converged on Qin Heng.

Facing the sudden assault, Qin Heng placed one hand behind his back. With the other, he formed a sword seal.

Instantly, streams of Sword Qi erupted, slashing through the air with sentient precision.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

In the blink of an eye, the bone pythons were diced into meaningless fragments, raining down like hail.

“Is this the extent of your trickery?” Qin Heng mocked.

Jing Kongcheng remained unfazed. He uttered a single word.

“Rise.”

The falling bone fragments halted in mid-air. They twisted, snapped together, and fused.

In a heartbeat, a colossal skeletal python formed from the debris, lunging at Qin Heng with jaws wide enough to swallow a house.

Flash.

Qin Heng’s sword light moved again, obliterating the construct instantly.

“If this is all you have, then don’t bother leaving!”

As the bone dust settled, Qin Heng spread his fingers. A talisman ignited in his palm, burning with a terrifyingly sharp aura.

Jing Kongcheng’s benevolent mask cracked. Shock flashed in his eyes.

“Heaven-Piercing Sword Intent Talisman?!”

He frantically dodged sideways, summoning a massive shield of white bone. But the talisman had already burned to ash.

A single strand of Sword Intent—condensed to the absolute limit—shot forth. It ignored the shield. It ignored space.

It clung to Jing Kongcheng like a gangrenous rot, sizzling as it carved through his defenses.

Slash!

Jing Kongcheng’s body was instantly diced into countless segments, falling apart in a gruesome display of gore.

“Elder Jing!”

“How… how is that possible?!”

The sudden, violent death of their leader left the Heavenly Gate cultivators dumbfounded. The Eastern Sage defenders cheered wildly, hope reigniting in their chests.

But high in the sky, Qin Heng did not smile. His expression grew grave.

As the Sword Intent faded, the bloody chunks of flesh, bone, and robe hovering in the air began to twitch.

Like a reversed painting, they flew back together. Muscle knit to bone, skin sealed over flesh.

In moments, Jing Kongcheng stood whole again.

He still looked like an ethereal sage, though his complexion was noticeably paler. Reconstructing a physical body was evidently not without a heavy cost.

He looked at Qin Heng with newfound wariness.

“This old man underestimated you. I thought a backwater like this couldn’t produce real talent. To think you could refine such an astonishing Sword Intent Talisman… impressive cultivation.”

Jing Kongcheng straightened his robes. “Qin Heng, I retract my earlier words. Why not join my Heavenly Gate Sect? With your ability, even if you cannot hold the highest power, you would certainly be a Venerated Elder. You would enjoy our full resources, and perhaps… even catch a glimpse of the Nascent Soul Great Dao.”

Qin Heng’s face remained a mask of stone. “Are you finished?”

“You…” Jing Kongcheng paused, then shook his head in pity. “It seems you are determined to die with this ship.”

“Hah! I am more curious about something else,” Qin Heng sneered. “With your mediocre strength, where did you get the confidence to swallow my Sect?”

Jing Kongcheng smiled, a look of ultimate assurance returning to his face. “If we were not certain, would we act rashly? Qin Heng, I give you one last chance. Submit, and this old man…”

“Submit?” Qin Heng interrupted with a cold laugh. “Relying on what? Those traitors down below?”

Jing Kongcheng’s pupils constricted. “You!”

Qin Heng’s expression turned icy. He reached out his hand, grasping at the empty void toward the direction of the sect’s interior.

“Evil-Asking Sword!”

…

Deep within the Sect’s core, inside a cave dwelling rich with spiritual Qi.

Ye Lingyu sat in meditation, oblivious to the apocalypse outside. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open.

She stared in shock at the third-grade magic sword resting beside her.

The blade, usually dormant and quiet, was vibrating violently, emitting a high-pitched hum.

Hummmm—!

The connection between her spirit and the sword was severing. It wasn’t being stolen; it was being recalled.

With a sonic boom, the sword tore through the air and vanished.

…

Simultaneously, the third-grade magic sword, Evil-Asking, materialized in Qin Heng’s grip.

Qin Heng’s eyes burned with murderous intent.

“Did you think we were blind? You thought to use these traitors as inside agents to crumble us from within? Ridiculous!”

His voice boomed like thunder, shaking the battlefield.

“A Golden Core True Person’s divine sense can scan a thousand miles! Your little schemes, your incitement of these trash’s ambitions… we watched it all happen!”

He raised the sword high.

“To secure the outside, one must first purge the inside. Those who betray the Sect… MUST DIE!”

BOOM!

The Evil-Asking Sword—which had been sluggish in Ye Lingyu’s hands—erupted with blinding brilliance.

It didn’t fire a single beam. It shattered into thousands of distinct streaks of sword light, raining down upon the sect like a meteor shower.

But these meteors had eyes. They ignored the loyal. They ignored the innocent. They sought only the marked.

“Not good!”

Jing Kongcheng’s composure shattered. His face twisted in panic.

With one hand, he threw out a bone umbrella; with the other, he hurled a third-grade Malevolent Bone Pearl at Qin Heng in a desperate attempt to interrupt the spell.

The bone umbrella expanded in the wind, transforming into a canopy that covered the sky, shielding the main Heavenly Gate forces and, inadvertently, some Eastern Sage disciples.

The Malevolent Bone Pearl vanished into thin air, engaging stealth mode for a sneak attack.

“Petty tricks!”

Qin Heng snorted. He flicked a single finger.

Ping!

A streak of sword radiance intercepted the invisible pearl with pinpoint accuracy. The pearl materialized, its luster dimmed and cracked, and wobbled back to its master.

Meanwhile, the rain of judgment fell.

The countless sword lights from the Evil-Asking Sword bypassed the umbrella and struck their targets with unerring precision.

…

Inside Ding-Nine Manor.

The chaos of the melee seemed to freeze.

Tao Yi, holding his bloodied sword, suddenly stiffened.

He lowered his head slowly, staring blankly at the gaping, smooth-edged hole in his chest.

There was no pain. Just emptiness.

He raised his head, his eyes filled with confusion as he looked at Wang Ba’s chest.

Why…? Why don’t you have one?

His lips moved, trying to form a question.

But the next moment, the Sword Qi detonated.

SPLAT!

Tao Yi exploded like a ripe watermelon, scattering red mist across the room.

(End of Chapter)