Chapter 159: Sacrificing to Lord Lin (Part I)

Song Yan first picked up the jade casket, inside which a cluster of blood seemed to be slowly flowing.

"What is this thing?"

He was not widely traveled and ignorant of many things; even with a treasure right before his eyes, he had no idea what it was used for.

He then picked up the ruby-like scale and held it in his palm.

"Is this the scale of some fierce beast?"

Xiao He poked its head out from his sleeve, sniffed the scale, and froze in place.

Song Yan asked, "Xiao He, do you know what this is?"

"I don't know."

Xiao He recovered its wits and said, "However, the demonic aura on this thing is so heavy."

Indeed, under the state of introspection, the demonic aura contained within this single scale far surpassed that of Xiao He entirely.

Beyond that, there was also a faint trace of the fire-element spiritual energy.

"..."

Song Yan turned it over and over, failing to make out anything special, so he tossed it into his cosmos bag along with the jade casket.

Seeing that the restrictive barrier was about to contract, this was hardly an opportune moment to study treasures.

His gaze fell upon the sword.

Lowering his palm, a gentle vortex of spiritual energy swept away the dust and a layer of moss covering the sword body.

Exercising a sliver of spiritual energy, he drew out the flying sword and suspended it in front of him for closer inspection.

The sword was about three chi and three cun in length, its entire body covered in dark red rust.

"Could this actually be a mortal iron sword?"

Song Yan had always been aware that ancient sword cultivators did not pay much mind to the grade of the sword body, but wasn't a mortal iron flying sword a bit too shabby?

According to the autobiography, he had used this mortal iron flying sword all the way until the late stage of the Foundation Establishment realm, only replacing it upon breaking through to the Golden Core realm.

To enter the Dao with a mortal iron sword must have been a commemoration of his stepping into swordsmanship, which was why he had been so reluctant to part with it for so long.

Right in the middle of the sword ridge, three archaic, unadorned characters were engraved:

"Ji Lin Jun" (Sacrificing Kylin Lord).

Amidst its weathered aura, the entire flying sword also exuded an untamed and rebellious flavor.

Lin Jun... Is that the Kylin of legends?

Thinking of such an auspicious divine beast that seemed to exist only in myths, he secretly shook his head.

How could that be possible...

Song Yan planned to put it away for the time being and study it further after the Sword-Testing Assembly concluded.

"Hum—"

Unexpectedly, at that very moment, the Yin-Yang Orb flew out on its own, blazing with brilliant black and white radiance.

It abruptly sucked Ji Lin Jun inside, and simultaneously, Song Yan's spiritual sense uncontrollably entered the Yin-Yang Realm.

"..."

He saw the black and white shifting within the Yin-Yang Realm, with Ji Lin Jun suspended above the Dao seed. Ink-like darkness surged behind it, manifesting the phantom of a colossal fierce beast.

Before Song Yan could react, that ink-like darkness suddenly dissipated, condensing into a point of light that flew straight toward him!

A sensation of tearing erupted from the depths of his soul, and immediately his spiritual sense began to blur.

"Not good."

He thought to himself.

By now, nearly two hours had passed since the start of the sword testing.

The contraction of the domain's barrier was about to begin.

And he was right at the edge of the barrier; if he entered a state of meditation at this moment, he risked being directly eliminated!

What a pity.

The Yin-Yang Orb cared not what he was doing.

The feeling of dizziness had already gripped his consciousness, like countless hands dragging him beneath the water's surface.

...

"Cough, cough..."

"Ugh..."

His throat was parched.

His head ached as if it were splitting apart.

Could it be that he had been drinking again yesterday?

Mustering all his strength, he finally managed to open his eyes.

Within his field of vision, this place appeared to be a pitch-black dilapidated temple, though the light outside was also very dim, suggesting it must be just at the break of dawn.

The weather felt somewhat chilly.

Driven by the instinct that "something must be done," he staggered to his feet from the ground and walked toward the temple entrance.

He stepped over the threshold of the ruined temple.

The cold mountain wind drifted in through the collar of his robes, sending a jolt through his entire body and instantly sweeping away the haze in his mind.

"Hiss—"

He slapped his forehead.

"Drinking ruins affairs."

Clearly, he had come here to seek an old friend; how on earth had he ended up drinking again...

My name is Nie Chao.

I am a Jianghu swordsman who came here in search of an old friend who broke his promise.

...

Recalling the biting cold wind in the temple last night that had left his toes shivering.

Drinking some strong liquor to warm himself up seemed somewhat justifiable after all.

Nie Chao quickly forgave himself.

By the time he had somewhat dispelled the smell of alcohol, the sun was already high in the sky.

"I had better hurry to the village and ask around, to find that bastard Duan Tianhai sooner."

They had agreed upon a three-year pact to determine superiority at the summit of Mount Taiyue.

Yet he had made him wait for a full seven days and seven nights.

Descending the mountain and tracing the whereabouts of Duan Tianhai's friends and relatives all the way, he learned that the man had indeed gone to keep the appointment.

Only, why he had failed to arrive as promised remained a mystery.

Nie Chao bid farewell to the Duan family clan and followed the route he had taken in one breath.

Duan Tianhai, much like himself, had made a name for himself in the mortal martial world at a young age.

Along the way, people had indeed seen him, right up until this place, where the route changed.

Duan Tianhai did not seem to head straight for Mount Taiyue anymore; instead, he had taken a detour and come west.

Yet the western route was desolate, with continuous mountain ranges.

If one had to name a reason worth coming here...

That would be the small fishing village right before his eyes.

The fish market along the river was unfolding, bustling with activity.

Fishermen nimbly tossed aside reed mats as mandarin fish and blue crabs leaped about.

Women carrying bamboo baskets squatted down, pointing at fish to bargain, while children slipped through the crowd and stealthily filleted a few small crabs from the shrimp baskets.

The scale beam tipped upward, and copper coins dropped down.

Nie Chao's arrival indeed attracted the attention of quite a few people.

However, he was thick-skinned and paid it no mind.

Spotting several elderly folks chatting at the village entrance, he swaggered over and asked, "Grandpa, have you seen a person?"

"He's about... this tall..."

"He should be wearing black clothes, and then... with a saber tucked at his waist."

Nie Chao could not draw.

But asking Nie Chao to spend his own money to hire someone to paint a portrait of that grandson before coming to look for him—he might as well just go die in some forgotten corner.

He could only gesture vaguely.

The old men in the village had originally been quite warm, but upon hearing Nie Chao's description, they immediately grew impatient.

"There's no such person, haven't seen him."

"Go look elsewhere."

"Today our Pinghu Village is holding a sacrificial ceremony. Outsiders, be on your way quickly!"

The old men, speaking one after another, actually drove Nie Chao out of the fishing village.

"Such a tiny fishing village, what kind of ceremony are they holding..."

"Sacrificing to what? The City God?"

"Ha, that temple outside is battered beyond recognition, who's still coming to keep you safe."

He shrugged, muttered a few words, and turned to leave, thinking of searching for clues elsewhere.

"The one they're sacrificing to is not the City God."

"?"

Nie Chao followed the voice and looked over. A fat beggar was leaning against the tree at the village entrance, counting the copper coins in his hand.

"You little beggar... are you also from the village?"

"Heck no, there's a grand sacrifice in Pinghu Township tonight, and aren't I... hehe, coming to have a full meal?"

The fat beggar grinned foolishly, patted his belly, and smacked his lips.

As if he had already eaten.

Nie Chao walked over to him with great interest and asked, "You said they aren't sacrificing to the City God... then who is it?"

"Hehe."

The fat beggar split his grin, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Tanjiang Mountain..."

"Lord Kylin."