Chapter 111: Flesh and Blood

The righteous path is often seen as ostentatious, bogged down by cumbersome procedures, and prone to endless bureaucratic buck-passing. Yet, it would be unfair to claim it is entirely rotten; the layers of negotiation and central coordination still serve a purpose. Jian Bingru, the Emei leader tasked with overseeing this operation, is naturally not as incompetent as the Blood God Child claims.

Before the cloud-ships of Mount Sanqing touched down, the various factions had already conducted meetings and reconnaissance, mapping out the terrain of Western Kunlun and the Demonic Sect’s defensive layout with considerable accuracy. Once every faction arrived, acting under Jian Bingru’s direction, hundreds of teams ascended the mountain in waves.

At a specific moment, near the waist of the mountain—at an altitude of two to five miles—flashes of magical light and thunderous explosions erupted almost simultaneously along the eastern slope, western slope, and the southeastern pass. It was visible to the naked eye that skirmishes were breaking out in dozens of locations at once, preventing the Demonic Sect’s strongholds from reinforcing one another. Particularly to the north of the eastern and western slopes, two defensive lines formed by high-level cultivators were established to block any reinforcements arriving from that direction.

***

Blood Cloud Palace.

"Sect Master, the righteous path’s assault is fierce! I fear our disciples cannot withstand it!" a man said from outside the hall, his voice laced with anxiety.

The Blood God Child merely smiled. "If a newly established Demonic Sect cannot even defend against such a probing attack from the righteous path, then it deserves to be wiped out."

"Defending is possible, of course—your Blood Shadow Guards have not yet been deployed—but I fear the children will suffer heavy losses. This is the fruit of years of hard work."

The Blood God Child remained indifferent. "They are merely whetstones for each other. Those who survive will naturally become leaders. As for the new disciples, we can always recruit more. Tell me, which path cultivates faster—the demonic or the righteous? Besides, do you really think those brats have shown their full strength? Furthermore, do you truly believe I have no contingency plans?"

The Blood God Child’s tone was remarkably relaxed. Under the illumination of the blood clouds, everything on the mountain was reflected in his mind.

***

He Si was a herdsman from the Western Sea. He had three older sisters and one younger brother. When he was fifteen, the acolytes serving under the "Immortal Lords" decided to raise taxes again. His tribe had no choice but to flee—to the Northern Frontier, to the Snowlands, anywhere—but they could not stay in the Western Sea, for they could no longer afford the tribute.

But immortals are immortals. The moment they fled, the pursuers arrived. The acolytes didn't even need to lift a finger; the tax collectors on horseback tore his tribe to shreds. In the chaotic flight, he was separated from his parents and sisters. His only younger brother, whom he held tightly in his arms, stayed with him. They were too young; after surviving, they tried to find their tribe, but they were gone.

For a month, they scavenged for roots. Fortunately, the heavens showed mercy—the grass was still lush, and the weather wasn't too cold. One day, a man in blood-colored robes appeared before them and asked if they wanted to enter the Demonic Path. He didn't know what the Demonic Path was. The man told him that he could fly through the skies and burrow into the earth, and that he could kill those tax collectors.

At that time, He Si asked, "I don't just want to kill the tax collectors; I want to kill the Immortal Lords on Mount Western Kunlun. Can I kill them if I enter the Demonic Path?"

He remembered the man in blood robes laughing heartily. Later, that man became his master. As for the life he led in the underground cavern practicing demonic arts, he refused to recall a single detail. Before entering that hole, he could never have imagined such agony existed in the human world. He lived through days that felt like years, not knowing how much time had passed, until yesterday, when his master suddenly told him that Western Kunlun was right above the cavern.

That day, countless people who had lived like ants in the cavern rushed out. The blood qi from the subterranean sea of blood manifested into blood clouds, shrouding the entirety of Western Kunlun, ensuring that none of the high-and-mighty Immortal Lords could escape. He remembered the thrill of the slaughter, venting all his childhood grievances and the torment of his cultivation. His mind felt clear, he drank the blood of those he killed, and his demonic arts progressed significantly overnight.

But his master told him that Western Kunlun now belonged to the Blood God Sect and that others would soon come to seize it. He had to defend Kunlun to have a future, or else he would die. To be honest, he wasn't afraid of death; after all, in the cavern, he felt like he was dying every day. And since he had already avenged himself, it truly didn't matter.

But his little brother was still young. He couldn't die. Since he was old enough to know better, his brother had lived in that cavern and remembered nothing of the world before. His life shouldn't be limited to this. So he had to live; to ensure his brother could have a good life, he had to keep living.

But now, his brother was dead.

He felt there was no need for him to live either.

The Bone-Blood Pellet was both a sphere and a sword. Forged from bone and encased in blood, it was a secret treasure created by the Sect Master. A disciple of the Blood God Sect poured all their cultivation into this artifact. The outer blood sac had many wondrous uses: it could harden into a crystalline shell tougher than refined iron, manifest into a poisonous blood miasma, or radiate blood light that could pierce through illusions and suppress the Five Elements.

The inner bone core was a flying sword, forged primarily from the ulna of his own left forearm, melted together with snake bones from the cavern and, naturally, other human bones. It was a pity—he had killed many people last night, and the blood sac was satiated, but though he had carefully cleaned and collected those bones, he hadn't had time to smelt them into the flying sword.

No matter. Its current power was not lacking.

He Si did not notice that his hair had turned completely white in an instant, and blood-tears were streaming from the corners of his eyes. A manic laugh erupted from his throat. His Bone-Blood Pellet was currently striking against Yu Miaoyin’s bronze bell. Behind that bell was another disciple of the Blood God Sect, who was currently occupied with the suddenly appearing Wang Miaoyuan.

He Si formed a seal. The Bone-Blood Pellet’s speed surged, but with a mere feint, it bypassed the bell and struck directly at the other Blood God Sect disciple who had his back turned.

***

That person, however, seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. As He Si’s Bone-Blood Pellet neared, he suddenly dodged. The pellet burst right in front of Wang Miaoyuan, forming a cloud of blood miasma.

Wang Miaoyuan, in his wide-sleeved robes, flicked his sleeves, unleashing a sharp blast of force that pushed back the blood miasma.

"Watch out for the blood beads! There’s a flying sword hidden inside!" Cheng Xinzhan’s alarmed shout rang out.

*Hmm, the one who killed my brother noticed,* he thought. *But it’s too late.*

He Si switched his hand seal to a sword command. A blade of light, like a white rainbow, parted the blood miasma and reflected in Wang Miaoyuan’s pupils. The white rainbow appeared too suddenly and pierced through too quickly for him to dodge. It struck true, passing through Wang Miaoyuan’s exposed chest and emerging from his back.

Wang Miaoyuan looked down at his chest in disbelief. There was a hole there.

It was such a coincidence that He Si had chosen the person closest to his Bone-Blood Pellet—the only one among the Mount Sanqing disciples present who had not yet opened his Heart Mansion. Amidst the bone-white sword light, his heart was shredded to pieces, while the other four mansions still shimmered with light, resisting the sword qi.

Wang Miaoyuan looked at his shattered heart. He had planned to open his Heart Mansion after this battle ended; he had prepared everything, but he had been sent away on this mission to suppress the demons. He suddenly smiled, blood bubbling from his lips. "Time... and fate!" He slumped down immediately.

"Daoist brother!" Cheng Xinzhan, on the ground, felt his eyes split with rage. He deployed his footwork, flying toward where Wang Miaoyuan was falling.

"You’re next!" He Si saw the man who had killed his brother trying to catch the body, and he wouldn't let such a chance slip by. He dove down, his bone flying sword turning to follow.

"Miaoyuan! Xinzhan!" Everyone saw this scene. The disciples of Mount Sanqing went all out to intercept He Si, while the six demonic heads moved to block them.

Cheng Xinzhan caught Wang Miaoyuan. He was already a bloody mess. In an instant, he threw over a dozen talismans into the air. "Wind and Fire, blaze forth, quick!"

Thanks to the high-quality materials gifted by the Xiao family of White Jade Capital, and his own ever-improving mastery of talisman arts, the dozen wind-fire talismans—crafted from the feathers of fire-birds—spun into the sky. They ignited rapidly, generating wind and fire, transforming into a fire tornado intended to engulf the diving He Si.

After casting the talismans, he flew away, shouting, "His heart is shattered! Daoist brothers Ji Hu and Jianrong, come quickly!"

Before Cheng Xinzhan could even finish, the two were already flying over. Feng Jihu took Wang Miaoyuan from Cheng Xinzhan, his heart turning cold instantly. Zhu Jianrong held a Heart-Preservation Pill in his hand, but seeing Wang Miaoyuan’s chest, he froze. A Heart-Preservation Pill required a heart to begin with, and where Wang Miaoyuan’s heart should have been, there was only a hollow void.

"In the next life, I must open my Heart Mansion first," Wang Miaoyuan said, lying in Feng Jihu’s arms, spitting out blood-foam as he smiled. Then, he closed his eyes.

At that moment, another bone flying sword struck. Cheng Xinzhan let out a long whistle, drew his sword "Autumn Water," and slashed with all his might. "Daoist brother Jihu, go back first! Let the two elders take a look!" he shouted.

Feng Jihu said nothing and immediately left with Wang Miaoyuan’s body. The Demonic Sect members wanted to intercept him; they saw that Feng Jihu had the lowest cultivation among the group and was currently encumbered by a corpse, making it a perfect time to strike.

Cheng Xinzhan stood his ground to block the enemies for Feng Jihu. Holding his sword in his right hand and forming a sword seal with his left against his brow, he chanted rapidly: "Thunderbolts fall fast, hail strikes swift! Sever the heads of a thousand demons, shear the forms of ten thousand fiends! Disobey my command, and face the wrath of the Upper Clarity! Obey with haste!"

"BOOM!" A massive thunderclap erupted. A bolt of lightning struck from the clear sky, and a dozen more followed like an electric net. The demonic heads were forced to halt, nearly colliding with one another.

"Thunder and fire fall fast, hail strikes swift!" Cheng Xinzhan’s incantation grew faster and louder. Thunder fell in cascades, like a waterfall, actually pushing the demonic heads back.

***

By now, Feng Jihu was far away, and the remaining Mount Sanqing disciples had closed in from behind. Nine against seven.

"Use blood light to protect your bodies and dodge the thunder! Use your flying swords to break the enemy! Thunder arts are the most taxing on mana—they won't last long!" He Si, eyes bloodshot but not yet having lost his reason, ordered in a low voice.

The demonic heads complied, recalling the blood sacs of their Bone-Blood Pellets to shroud their bodies in blood light, then maneuvered their flying swords to fight from a distance.

At this moment, the person He Si most wanted to kill was undoubtedly Cheng Xinzhan. Yet, he chose to ignore him for now, instead taking the initiative to attack Xiao Miaoyu, who had the highest cultivation, and Yu Miaoyin, who controlled the thunder weapons. He knew that if he were fixated on killing the man who had slain his brother, his own subordinates—who were fewer in number and lower in cultivation than their opponents—would be unable to stop the righteous path disciples from protecting that murderer. He would accomplish nothing. The only viable path was for him to hold back the high-level opponents while his subordinates did the killing, and only then would he have the opportunity to take his revenge.

He Si took on two opponents at once, both of whom were difficult to deal with, which boosted the morale of his subordinates, who began driving their flying swords to hunt their own targets.

Cheng Xinzhan had killed He Wu and could summon thunder, so a second-realm cultivator targeted him, adopting a very cautious approach. Cheng Xinzhan couldn't accurately judge the man’s strength, but he saw the protective blood light was very dense, suggesting a significant level of mana.

The bone flying sword, as a pillar of the Blood God Sect, naturally had its merits. The white bone sword carried a baleful aura; when it neared, a thick, fishy stench assaulted the senses, causing one's blood to churn as if it were about to burst through the skin. He immediately swallowed the Turtle-Breathing Blood-Slowing Pill he had been issued, feeling slightly better.

The bone flying sword came again. He twisted to dodge, parrying with "Autumn Water," his feet treading on wind as he tried to close the distance for a melee fight. The demon saw he practiced physical swordsmanship and naturally wouldn't grant his wish, keeping his distance.

Cheng Xinzhan tried to use thunder arts to pin him down so he could close in, but the demon preferred to expend his protective blood light to tank the thunder rather than let Cheng Xinzhan get close. He hung back, clearly wary of Cheng Xinzhan. After a dozen exchanges, Cheng Xinzhan hadn't seen the demon use any other techniques. The style of using a flying sword from a distance while keeping his physical body hidden—combined with the ruthless and agile sword-control method—made him feel a sense of familiarity.

*Why does this look like Emei’s style?*

However, after twenty or thirty rounds, his own physical stamina and mana were struggling to keep up. After all, his opponent was a higher-realm cultivator with much more abundant mana.

"Ah!" On the other side, Zhu Jianmo suddenly cried out. His cultivation was also low, and he wasn't adept at dueling. His puppets were too slow to help him defend against the flying sword, and he had been stabbed in the right arm.

It looked like a mere scratch, but he clutched his arm and plummeted, screaming, "The flying sword is poisoned! The baleful light on the blade corrupts a person's essence and blood, paralyzing the flesh and bones!"

Zeng Jinian, who was also using his flying sword to fight, still had some energy left and flew over to catch Zhu Jianmo.

Cheng Xinzhan hatched a plan.

The flying sword attacked again. He acted as if his energy were spent and he could no longer parry, fleeing atop a thunder-talisman to hide behind a mountain ridge. The demon immediately pursued, but fearing that Cheng Xinzhan was trying to lure him into close quarters, he circled around from a distance. Seeing Cheng Xinzhan panting in a rocky gully, thinking he was exhausted, the demon recited a few incantations and spat a mouthful of blood onto his bone flying sword.

"Go!"

The baleful light on the bone flying sword flared, its speed increasing as it shot straight at Cheng Xinzhan.

Cheng Xinzhan rolled to dodge, but the sword was too fast, grazing his arm in a dangerously close call. Cheng Xinzhan let out a sharp cry, his body stiffening, and he tumbled down the cliff.

The others heard Cheng Xinzhan’s cry and felt a pang of fear, but their line of sight was blocked by the mountain. Wanting to come over but being pinned down by the demons, they could only call out helplessly, "Xinzhan, are you alright?!"

No one answered.

The demon who had struck Cheng Xinzhan was overjoyed. When they had reached the second realm, they had been rewarded with five *zhu* of "Bone-Melting Blood Baleful Aura" to refine into their swords. Once touched by this baleful light, any living creature of flesh and blood would be unable to circulate their blood or move their tendons, freezing on the spot. If enough of the true baleful aura was refined, just a scratch would cause flesh and blood to fall away like snow on grass when a wind blows.

*This brat was hit by the baleful light; he definitely can't move,* the demon thought.

Cheng Xinzhan, tumbling and falling, caught himself on a rock. The demon landed not far away, but subconsciously still unwilling to get too close, stopping about twenty paces away and once again commanding the flying sword to strike.

But this distance was enough for Cheng Xinzhan. His hand, hanging toward the ground, suddenly pointed at the demon. He chanted, "Suppress!"

The demon felt an immediate panic and tried to channel all his mana to escape. But at that moment, he saw Cheng Xinzhan staring straight at him, his left eye having turned fire-red at some point. He felt as if he were seeing infinite flames rushing toward him, or as if the sun in the sky were falling, filling him with terror.

In that single moment of hesitation, a slender red needle shot out from Cheng Xinzhan’s left eye. It expanded in the wind, transforming into a Warring States-style broadsword, like a ray of light that rose from his eye and struck the demon right in the center of his forehead.

The demon, until his death, saw only the firelight in his eyes, never seeing the flying sword hidden within it.