Volume One: Autumn Sacrifice Chapter Thirty-Five: It Might Be Some Powerful Technique
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The hand with which Xie Wuxing held his sword was clasped behind his back, trembling more violently than before. His expression had grown exceedingly grave.
No wonder the tyrant Jiang had oppressed the local people with impunity. It turned out he was a master himself!
“Yet I wonder which school or sect taught you. If I discover which sect produced a villain such as you, I shall certainly climb its mountain and seek instruction.”
Now that he knew Jiang Wang was indeed Jiang Wang, all his earlier guesses from the inquiry at Viewing the River Pavilion Street had become meaningless.
Jiang Wang was neither an ordinary man with no connection to any sect, nor a young nobleman from a sect who had yet to embark upon the path of cultivation, nor a true seeker of immortality.
He was a notorious tyrant who had entrenched himself in Hun City. If he had come here from some mountain in search of immortality, matters would never have reached this point. Apart from the Divine Capital and the locations of the various sects, what cultivator would remain at home all day to practice?
Perhaps Jiang Wang had been a tyrant even before beginning his cultivation, and had merely happened to return home after seeking immortality—whereupon, relying on his cultivation, he had committed every manner of evil.
The Sword Pavilion stood supreme throughout Kut'an. If some sect in Kut'an had truly produced such a scourge, Xie Wuxing was fully entitled to purge the sect in its name.
Jiang Wang smiled calmly. “I am merely a wild path cultivator, wandering the long road of cultivation and seeking higher ground wherever I can.”
Xie Wuxing would never believe such a lie. In this world, no one could achieve profound cultivation at a young age through nothing but solitary experimentation.
He was wondering how many people in all of Kut'an, at an age such as his, could truly match him.
His teacher had once said that among his peers, he was already capable of looking down upon all of Kut'an. The only exception was a certain young woman surnamed Zhao. Yet that woman's whereabouts were mysterious, and no one knew which mountain she had come from. It was even possible that she was not from Kut'an at all.
Aside from seeking immortals and subduing demons, Xie Wuxing had descended the mountain in hopes of meeting that woman surnamed Zhao, thereby securing for himself the title of foremost cultivator among Kut'an's younger generation.
He had never expected to encounter the young woman surnamed Zhao. Instead, a tyrant named Jiang Wang had appeared.
But since his teacher had said that among all the cultivators of Kut'an's younger generation, only the young woman surnamed Zhao could surpass him by a narrow margin, then regardless of whether Jiang Wang accepted it, he could not possibly possess the strength to defeat him.
He was just about to strike again when Jiang Wang suddenly called for a halt.
“Let’s find somewhere else to fight. We can’t destroy my home.”
Xie Wuxing’s purpose was to kill the wicked Jiang Wang, but he had no wish to implicate the innocent. Thus, he did not reject the suggestion. His body hovered in midair as he said coolly, “Take your time choosing a place. Consider it a reward for being able to exchange blows with me. Choose your burial ground carefully.”
Jiang Wang did not argue. He was thinking about the fact that he could not fly.
If Xie Wuxing simply flew away while he had to run along the road, it would be rather humiliating.
“Birdie… Great God of Night Patrol! Give me a hand!”
The God of Night Patrol’s deeply dissatisfied voice came from within him. “When you want someone’s help, you know how to make yourself sound sweet. If you call me ‘birdie’ again, don’t expect me to help you.”
Jiang Wang knew when to yield. “I promise!”
“I’ll believe you this once.”
Within the divine kingdom, the God of Night Patrol spread his wings, and Jiang Wang’s body rose into the air.
Of all the abilities possessed by cultivators, flying was the one he envied most. Experiencing it for the first time, he was intensely excited.
He was like a bird, flapping his wings; then like a frog, kicking his legs…
The green-robed and white-robed cultivators were utterly dumbfounded.
Little Yu tugged on the old steward’s sleeve, staring blankly. “What is the young master doing?”
The corners of the old steward’s mouth twitched as he answered with an awkward smile, “Perhaps it is some formidable technique.”
Ning Fourteen was deeply impressed. He watched Jiang Wang, who was striking all manner of poses in midair, with utmost seriousness, as though trying to learn something.
Shu Ni pressed a hand to her forehead. She felt that Jiang Wang was strange to an almost unfathomable degree.
When she had first learned to fly by manipulating vital energy, she had behaved somewhat similarly. Yet Jiang Wang looked as though he were weak and utterly helpless, while in truth possessing tremendous strength. He was always pretending to be a complete novice, so she simply could not believe this was his first time flying.
She naturally concluded that he must be having some sort of episode.
Xie Wuxing was equally stunned.
He nearly fell from the sky.
Perhaps a tyrant’s behavior was incomprehensible, and perhaps there was something wrong with his head—but apparently, it was not an ordinary kind of wrong.
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Jiang Wang slowly came back to his senses.
Seeing the varied expressions on Xie Wuxing’s face and those of everyone below, he rarely found himself blushing.
He had thought that being unable to fly would be embarrassing. He had not expected his current performance to be even more humiliating.
He immediately gave a light cough and said with great solemnity, “Warm-up complete. Let’s fight!”
With that, he flew straight out of the marquis’s residence.
Xie Wuxing followed close behind.
The two robed cultivators came to their senses and hurried after them.
As Ning Fourteen ran out of the residence, Shu Ni reached out toward Little Yu and carried her away through the air.
The old steward remained where he was, his expression slightly grave.
At that moment, Zhao Si staggered over and asked in confusion, “What happened?”
…
On Perched Rosy Clouds Street.
Jiang Wang landed amid the ruins, part of which had already been demolished by the prefectural garrison.
Xie Wuxing glanced around and smiled faintly. “This is the place you chose?”
Jiang Wang stretched his arms, loosened his muscles and bones a little, then tightened his grip on the Long Night Saber.
“I hope you can make this fight satisfying.”
Whether against Cai Tanggu or Old Sixth Tan, he had essentially crushed his opponents with overwhelming force. Jiang Wang himself wished to experience a true battle for once.
Xie Wuxing’s gaze sharpened slightly. In a low voice, he said, “Though I dislike admitting it, among my peers, you are the first person who has made me want to fight seriously. If not for your tyrannical conduct, I truly would not want to kill you.”
Jiang Wang frowned. The atmosphere had already reached this point, and he could not be bothered to ask what Xie Wuxing meant by calling him a tyrant. He raised his saber first. The power of the divine kingdom gathered, and the Long Night Saber began to radiate a biting chill.
Xie Wuxing pointed his sword at Jiang Wang. The intent of the Stream-and-River Sword filled the area. As the two forces collided, explosions rang out intermittently through the air. Wind swept across the open ground, sending dust billowing upward and blurring the ruins.
The green-robed and white-robed cultivators stood at a distance, sensing the changes in the surrounding energies. They could only feel that the scene was terrifying beyond words.
Had they been any closer, the force of the aura alone might have torn their bodies apart.
Ning Fourteen might have been able to endure for a while, but the advantage granted by his martial background could take him only so far. It could not alter the final outcome.
Shu Ni held Little Yu by the shoulders, her voice trembling slightly. “I imagined that Jiang Wang might be strong, but I never expected him to be this strong. The fluttering white-robed fellow is understandable—after all, he is the Sword God’s direct disciple. But if Jiang Wang has never joined one of the great sects, how did he cultivate to such a realm?”
Hearing this, the two green-robed cultivators exchanged a tacit glance and remained silent.
In their minds, Mister Jiang was a mighty immortal. The power he was displaying now ought to be nothing more than the tip of the iceberg. No matter how deep Xie Wuxing’s background or how high his cultivation, what could he amount to before a true immortal?
After following Jiang Wang for some time, their thoughts had imperceptibly changed. Even after learning Xie Wuxing’s identity, they were still deeply intimidated—but only to that extent.
Cultivators throughout Kut’an, and even across the various realms of the Sui Kingdom, revered the Sword Pavilion to the utmost because of the Sword God’s name. But how could anyone revere it more than an immortal?
The green-robed cultivator looked at the white-robed one and asked, “How many moves do you think Mister Jiang will need to defeat him?”
The white-robed cultivator answered, “If Mister Jiang does not intend to end it immediately, that man should last two or three moves.”
The green-robed cultivator said, “But I think that even if Mister Jiang is not serious, he will still need only one move to win.”
The white-robed cultivator nodded. “Precisely. Precisely.”
Ning Fourteen looked utterly bewildered. “Are you being serious? Mister Jiang is indeed very strong, but his opponent is still the Sword God’s direct disciple. Aren’t you exaggerating a little?”
The green-robed cultivator looked at him with disdain, as though saying: What do you know?
…
Xie Wuxing’s brows drew tightly together.
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Seeing Jiang Wang’s relaxed appearance across from him, Xie Wuxing realized that Jiang Wang was even stronger than he had guessed.
He gave his wrist a slight shake. The sound of the sword was pleasing to the ear, and the ruins became steeped in desolate, murderous intent.
Dark clouds swept across the sky like a tilting waterfall. Stars shimmered among them, lending the night an exquisite splendor.
Xie Wuxing raised his arm high and brought the sword down from above.
Like a stream gathering into a river, the vital energy of heaven and earth poured downward. The dark clouds were washed away, leaving the sky clear and pure. It was as though a colossal wave, roaring with fury, were surging straight toward Jiang Wang to smash against him.
“The Stream-and-River Sword Intent!”
In the marquis’s residence, Xie Wuxing had merely used his sword intent to suppress his opponent. This was the true Stream-and-River Sword Intent.
The God of Night Patrol had said that Xie Wuxing had grasped only the barest surface of it—but however much of the surface that might be, the spectacle before them did not resemble something formed from a mere superficial understanding.
All of Perched Rosy Clouds Street trembled.
The aura crashing toward him like a raging sea caused Jiang Wang’s blood to boil. He repeatedly tightened his grip on the saber. He would have loved to create an equally magnificent spectacle, but he knew only how to release the power of the divine kingdom. He had no idea how to shape it into anything more.
It was truly enviable.
He imagined that casually dissolving such a grand attack would feel even more satisfying.
He swung his saber at the sword intent.
It was like a clash between darkness and light.
Yet this time, Jiang Wang could not shatter the sword intent in an instant with overwhelming ease. The two forces collided, refusing to yield, and for a short while neither showed the slightest sign of weakening.
Xie Wuxing was secretly astonished.
Throughout the entire Sword Pavilion, apart from his teacher and the martial uncle who had comprehended the Stream-and-River Sword Intent to a level of fifty or sixty percent, he alone had grasped it most deeply. Among his fellow disciples of the same generation, very few could withstand his sword intent.
He had never imagined that a mere tyrant from Hun City could actually match him blow for blow.
What kind of monster was this?
Perhaps even his teacher was unaware of his existence.
Xie Wuxing’s fighting spirit was ignited.
For a brief moment, he forgot the “fact” that Jiang Wang was a tyrant, thinking only of defeating him.
A dazzling light shone from his eyes.
His entire being was like a sword sheathed within a case, restrained and concealed. Now, at last, it had left the case and revealed its true form to the world.
The waterfall formed by the inverted sea of clouds gradually condensed into a sword standing between heaven and earth. The sight could be seen not only throughout Hun City, but perhaps across half of Kut’an.
Had the giant sword not tilted and crashed toward the ground, the spectacle might have continued long enough for ordinary cultivators to mistake it for an omen heralding the descent of an immortal.
Jiang Wang’s eyes filled with envy once again.
The scene was simply too magnificent.
Compared with Xie Wuxing, the methods of Cai Tanggu and Old Sixth Tan were utterly pathetic.
This was what a true cultivator ought to look like.
Jiang Wang eased the emotions stirred by his quickening heartbeat. Still maintaining the most ordinary of postures, he drew out all the power of the divine kingdom. A jet-black, frigid radiance burst from the Long Night Saber and shot straight into the heavens!
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