Borrowed Sword

Chapter 187 : "You Dare Call Yourself Worthy of Practicing the Sword?"

Chapter 187: "You Dare Call Yourself Worthy of Practicing the Sword?"

The 【Domain Talisman】 was reduced to ashes in an instant.

A wisp of extraordinarily profound, oppressively vast power engulfed the entire altar.

It was the power of the Seventh Realm, rarely seen in the Xuanhuang Realm.

It was the Power of the Domain!

It could instantly flatten this place to the ground.

Or it could destroy merely a speck of dust.

— Retractable at will.

The eldest among the nine Outer Sect Stewards of the 【Dao Gate】 had burned the last bit of his strength to activate this talisman.

He had only one goal:

To kill himself.

Liu Tianfeng had underestimated the power of this Domain Talisman.

He had thought the Sixth Elder would merely leave behind a trace of domain pressure within it.

But in reality, it was far stronger than Liu Tianfeng had anticipated.

Anyone below the Sixth Realm—could be annihilated!

Even a typical Sixth Realm cultivator—could be challenged!

This terrifying force, in just the blink of an eye, erased everything.

This white-haired old man was reduced to ashes on the spot!

His robes, the steward token at his waist, even the spiritual blade that had fallen by his feet... within the space around him, everything was completely obliterated!

Nothing remained in the mortal world.

Yet beyond that inch of space, the wind was calm and the waves still.

No shockwave spread outward.

This—was the Domain!

Inside the domain, and outside the domain, were two entirely different realities.

Liu Tianfeng, one of the Nine Outer Sect Stewards, perished at Chixi Ravine.

The surrounding Outer Sect disciples were all stunned on the spot.

Everything had happened far too quickly.

For ordinary disciples like them, they had no room to intervene, not even enough time to properly react.

By the time they came to their senses, the "demonized" Ge Long had been killed by Steward Liu, and then Steward Liu had died right after.

Only Chu Huaixu’s eyes sharply narrowed. The Heart Sword that shared his will gave him a warning.

"Still not completely dead?"

He couldn’t see the Divine Soul.

But—so what?

Chu Huaixu simply closed his eyes and, following the guidance of the Heart Sword, slashed forward!

Not far away, the scene shimmered with heatwave-like ripples, like those that appear on scorching summer days.

Next came rising black mist, then its swift dispersal—like something was making a final struggle.

Chu Huaixu, dragging his injured body, walked forward a few steps.

Han Shuangjiang followed behind him.

He soon arrived at the spot where Liu Tianfeng had been reduced to ashes, then looked down at the ground.

Li Chunsong had told him—the Sect Master and Little Martial Uncle had sent him down the mountain to learn how to kill.

But now, he was being forced to learn how to accept the death of fellow disciples.

Whether it was Ge Long’s death or Liu Tianfeng’s, both had happened too suddenly.

There was no great shock, no earth-shattering moment.

On the contrary, everything felt rushed.

As if—death itself was a rushed affair.

Did Chu Huaixu like Liu Tianfeng?

Of course not.

But no matter what, if Liu hadn’t voluntarily severed his own right arm, then that slash just now might very well have landed on Chu Huaixu instead.

For some reason, an image surfaced in his mind.

It was Liu Tianfeng’s fawning, sycophantic smile after realizing Chu Huaixu’s powerful background.

"Tch. Just thinking about it makes him even more detestable."

But strangely enough—despite playing Borrowed Sword for so long, witnessing countless cultivators’ deaths in the game, including fellow disciples from Spring and Autumn Mountain—

His heart still felt strange.

It wasn’t quite sorrow, nor was it deeply moving.

But he didn’t know how to describe it either.

Anyway—it was completely different from when he was playing a game.

Chu Huaixu stood there, silently staring at the shattered ground, expressionless.

Stranger still—he suddenly felt a hint of envy toward Liu Chengqi.

That was the part that made him most uncomfortable.

"Fine. I accept." he said in his heart.

...

...

At the Evil Cultivator’s altar, the cannon fodder had already been entirely slain by the Dao Gate disciples.

Chu Huaixu fed himself two Healing Spiritual Pills, then walked over to Mo Qingmei’s side, crouched down, and slipped one into her mouth as well.

He guessed that Steward Mo’s Sea of Consciousness had been mainly damaged, causing her to fall unconscious, so he fed her a Calming Pill.

Shortly after the pill entered her mouth, Mo Qingmei slowly awoke.

After learning the general course of events, her expression turned a little grim.

No matter what, she and Liu Tianfeng had worked together for many years.

She had quite a good impression of Liu Tianfeng—at least, the version of him before his Dao Companion died.

So naturally, she felt more grief and sorrow.

But—she was a steward.

At this moment, she had to take charge of the situation.

Mo Qingmei stood up, began issuing commands, organized the cleanup of the area, and personally destroyed the formation on the altar.

She conducted several careful checks before finally leading the group away with confidence.

On the way out, she did not forget to say to Chu Huaixu, “Chu Huaixu, thank you very much this time.”

If it weren’t for this young man’s help, she would’ve been even more seriously injured—or perhaps her life would have been in danger.

“Steward Mo, this is what a disciple should do,” he replied.

After speaking, Chu Huaixu suddenly halted his steps.

“Steward Mo, before we leave, I hope you can send a message to the two Senior Brothers outside—have them keep a close watch on that Sword Sect disciple, Zhao Qianfeng.” He spoke gravely.

Ever since entering this place, he had felt something wasn’t quite right.

Mo Qingmei, more experienced than him, agreed with the sentiment.

She looked at this young man and said, “I already sent the message.”

After leaving Chixi Ravine, the group reached the riverbank.

That Sword Sect disciple named Zhao Qianfeng was lying unconscious on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“Hm? He got attacked too?” Chu Huaixu was surprised.

Zhou Yuan and the others who had been watching over Zhao Qianfeng quickly replied, “Junior Brother Chu, no. He suddenly screamed out of nowhere and fainted.”

Everyone checked the timing—Zhao Qianfeng’s scream had occurred right when that bizarre Divine Soul had been destroyed by Chu Huaixu.

That made the situation even more suspicious.

The young man in the black-gold robe slowly crouched down.

Everyone thought he was about to examine Zhao Qianfeng’s condition—but instead, they heard—

“Smack—!”

The iron hand of a Body Training cultivator landed ruthlessly across Zhao Qianfeng’s face, trying to wake him up in the simplest and most direct way possible.

Chu Huaixu's slap landed with such practiced ease, it was as if he had done this many times before.

When Zhao Qianfeng let out a whimper and still didn’t wake up, Chu Huaixu immediately followed with a backhanded slap—this time striking the other side of his face.

All the Dao Gate disciples watching winced from the impact.

Zhao Qianfeng was forcibly awakened by the blow.

Upon regaining consciousness, he immediately felt the burning pain on his cheeks, even his neck seemed twisted.

Then, he saw a face—cold to the extreme.

Chu Huaixu deliberately waved his right hand in front of him, subtly hinting that it was he who had delivered the slaps.

Through that simple motion, he implied: You’ve been exposed.

Otherwise, why hit someone who remained unconscious for no reason?

Their eyes met, and Chu Huaixu immediately invoked the power of his Heart Sword.

To Zhao Qianfeng, it didn’t look like eyes at all—it was as though an invisible sword was pressed right against the center of his brow!

He shuddered violently—fear rising from the depths of his soul.

That bizarre Divine Soul had already left a mental brand on him, severely damaging his Sea of Consciousness.

Now, facing the Heart Sword again, he felt as if he might dissipate entirely at any moment.

"He’s going to kill me!"—the thought surfaced in his heart with terrifying clarity.

For some reason, Zhao Qianfeng suddenly cried out in desperation, “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!”

“It was all his doing!”

“He despised the fact that I only had a Mid-grade Spirit Embryo, and ordered me to find him a body with a Top-grade Spirit Embryo!”

“If I disobeyed... I... I would have been utterly destroyed!”

Chu Huaixu stared at him silently, crouching in front of him and locking eyes for a while before finally speaking:

“It’s alright. You can be utterly destroyed now.”

As soon as those words fell, Zhao Qianfeng began to struggle.

He shouted, “You can’t kill me, Chu Huaixu, you can’t kill me!”

“That’s right! You’re not allowed to kill me!”

“According to the Four Great Sects’ rules, I must be returned to the Sword Sect and judged under Sword Sect law. You can’t kill me. You don’t have the right to kill me!”

“I confess, I confess to everything!”

Upon hearing this, Chu Huaixu frowned and looked toward Mo Qingmei.

Steward Mo gave him a slow nod.

All the surrounding Dao Gate disciples wore expressions of anger, eager to eliminate Zhao Qianfeng on the spot.

Yet strangely, despite their fury, they all looked toward Chu Huaixu, as if waiting for his response.

Perhaps it was because he had been the first to encounter danger within the altar.

Perhaps it was because he had been the one to settle everything in the end.

Prestige, after all, was built event by event.

“Chu Huaixu, come over for a moment,” Mo Qingmei called.

She pulled him aside and explained that such a rule indeed existed among the Four Great Sects.

They refrained from violating it because, if ever a Dao Gate disciple found themselves in a similar situation, they too would be returned to the Dao Gate and judged under Dao Gate law.

“This rule must not be broken,” Mo Qingmei said. “It exists to protect our own rights as well.”

“What he did is heinous. After all, you’re the Xuanhuang Champion—and Senior Brother Liu also… Regardless, once he’s back in the Sword Sect, he’ll most likely be executed.”

“You know how the Sword Sect acts—especially when dealing with the Dao Gate—they’ll want to give a clear response.”

Chu Huaixu frowned deeper upon hearing this. It reminded him a bit of extradition laws.

“If he fully confesses, then we can’t do anything to him?” he asked.

Mo Qingmei nodded. “Correct. From now on, we may not carry out private punishment upon him.”

She looked at the young man before her, wishing to say more, and advised, “I’m angry too. But if someday a Dao Gate disciple commits a crime, and the Sword Sect follows this rule and refrains from using private punishment, then—so must we…”

Chu Huaixu stared at her and suddenly asked, “Steward Mo, the rule says we can’t punish him, right?”

He confirmed once again.

“Mm, that’s right…” she paused slightly, feeling something was off.

Chu Huaixu had already turned around and headed back toward Zhao Qianfeng.

Zhao Qianfeng had stood up by now, leaning against a tree.

His swollen cheeks throbbed. Seeing the Xuanhuang Champion approaching, he felt lingering fear.

But he had seen Steward Mo pull Chu Huaixu aside.

He assumed that the Dao Gate steward had calmed the young man down and explained the rules.

Zhao Qianfeng didn’t even know if he’d survive once back at the Sword Sect.

But he was clearly the type to cling desperately to life—any moment longer was worth it.

At that thought, he noticed Chu Huaixu’s face was looking particularly sour.

The more grim Chu Huaixu looked, the more it proved—Steward Mo must be holding him back.

Zhao Qianfeng sighed in relief, a flicker of certainty flashing in his eyes.

But Chu Huaixu looked at him from afar and spoke: “They say that among cultivators, sword cultivators are the most proud, the most conceited, the most convinced of their own unmatched grace. And among them, those of the Sword Sect are the worst.”

He stared firmly at Zhao Qianfeng.

Zhao Qianfeng began to feel nervous again.

“You… what do you mean?”

He didn’t understand what Chu Huaixu was implying, but if it was just some verbal mockery, he could endure it.

However, Chu Huaixu began walking toward him—slowly, step by step.

“What do I mean?”

In the next instant, he suddenly raised his palm.

Zhao Qianfeng, his face already swollen, instinctively raised his arms to block.

He held his Life-bound Spirit Sword in hand, placing it in front of him to guard.

But Chu Huaixu flicked his finger against the sword’s scabbard.

Inside his Sea of Consciousness, the Heart Sword struck.

Zhao Qianfeng’s Mid-grade Spirit Sword’s Sword Spirit was annihilated on the spot!

His Life-bound Spirit Sword became a dead object, his Sea of Consciousness was thrown into chaos, pain surged like knives—and his sword cultivation foundation collapsed. He began vomiting blood violently.

Chu Huaixu had already turned away.

Without so much as a glance at Zhao Qianfeng—now slumped like a pile of mud at the base of the tree—he left him with a single sentence:

“Don’t practice the sword anymore.”