Seeking Truth with a Sword

Chapter 402 - 353 Wind Talisman

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

Yuan Sou stomped on the ground, growing larger with each step.

The effects of the Strange Wine coursed through his bloodstream, reaching every part of his body. His muscles rapidly swelled, dense black fur with white tips sprouted all over him, and even his facial bones twisted and distorted, taking on an ape-like appearance. This Monkey Wine, brewed from special fruits and the blood of various demon beasts, could grant a person Demon-like strength in a short time.

There was, however, one negligible side effect: if overused, the "enhancement" effect would become irreversible, transforming a human completely into a Demon.

But at a life-and-death juncture, it was hardly the time to be concerned with such things.

Yuan Sou desperately circulated his Qi Sea, allowing the demonic aura to permeate his entire body.

The Longsword in his hand no longer glowed with Sword Qi but instead burned with dark, murky Demonic Qi. A casual swing sufficed to cut down and incinerate all trees in its path.

On the other side of the iron chain cage, Ghost Shovel had fully transformed into a Demon. The gaping maw on his abdomen had swallowed his entire torso in reverse. Below his neck, there was nothing but a mass of flesh, tumors, and swellings, all lined with sharp teeth. A mere glance was enough to rob one of sleep. The only two parts of him that could still be called human were his head and his left hand, which gripped the Frost Cold Blade.

According to the most heretical theories from certain Hidden Sects of the Former Sui, Aliens were the beings closest to the concept of "Cultivation." Aliens were born of nature, possessing all sorts of inconceivable and wondrous abilities. Humans developed their Qi Sea, tapped into the potential of their Spirit Veins, and drew nature’s spiritual energy into their bodies to circulate. In essence, they were imitating Aliens, fruitlessly attempting to achieve with acquired effort what Aliens possessed Innately. Imitation was always imperfect. For this reason, humans could never become as "close" to nature as Aliens.

Unless... they discarded human flaws and chose to fuse with Aliens.

CRACK, CRACK—

The sharp teeth on the surface of the gaping maw gnashed unconsciously, greedily drawing in the ambient Spiritual Energy.

If the process by which Cultivators used their Qi Sea Spiritual Veins to absorb nature’s spiritual energy was like drinking water, then Ghost Shovel, at this very moment, was like a waterwheel, pouring entire buckets of water into his belly.

The sensation was so intoxicating, so captivating, that he felt he could lose himself in it completely. It was as if, in that instant, he had broken through the Candle Cloud threshold and become omnipotent.

"Die!"

Ghost Shovel roared, his Frost Cold Blade blazing with dazzling light from the massive infusion of Spiritual Power. It even shattered the stubborn rust stains that had previously been impossible to remove. Wherever the light of the blade passed, the earth became coated with a thick layer of frost. Dry branches, fallen leaves, decaying soil, and even the insects dwelling within it were all frozen into ice sculptures, reflecting a translucent glimmer under the moonlight.

The power unleashed by the two Candle Cloud Cultivators, driven to desperation at this life-or-death moment, directly altered the landscape and environment of this Domain. To the left, demonic flames surged to the heavens, countless trees burning fiercely in the Demonic Qi. To the right, a world of ice and snow, where the ground was frozen solid to a depth of three zhang.

Lian Xuanyao’s eyes reflected these two starkly different scenes. He took a breath and let out a soft sigh. This sigh contained regret for Yuan Sou and Ghost Shovel, men of astonishing talent who had nevertheless chosen the Dao Path of Demon Cultivators, and also a lament for fate itself.

It had been a very, very long time since he had fought seriously. As the Academic Palace Master, few situations required him to draw his sword, nor were there many things worthy of such an action. The world knew Lian Xuanyao as "Unmatched with Talisman Sword," but few old acquaintances who had truly witnessed such a display remained, their numbers dwindling with time.

Faded memories from his youth—spirited, clad in fine clothes, riding a proud steed, and roaming the world with his sword—surged into his mind. The laughter of young boys and girls seemed to echo in his ears.

Lian Xuanyao smiled, a touch of nostalgia and sorrow in his expression. His hand rested casually on his sword hilt, and then he waved it forward.

WHIZ—

This sword strike was devoid of any discernible technique. It was like a child who, upon finding a straight stick on the road, whimsically picks it up and swings it about at random. Had anyone else performed it, the Sword Masters in Chang’an City who taught the Sword Dao would undoubtedly have offered a blunt critique: "Weak grip, unsteady footing, slow reactions." They would have politely advised the wielder that they lacked talent and should give up swordsmanship.

However, the expressions of Yuan Sou and Ghost Shovel, who had advanced to within a hundred paces, changed drastically. All the surrounding nature’s spiritual energy, as if drawn into a vortex, surged madly towards Lian Xuanyao’s Longsword. All of it moved and flowed in concert with the blade.

The solid bedrock, firmly frozen by the Frost Cold Blade’s effect, shattered as if it were made of paper mâché. Layers of ice, mixed with fallen leaves, dead branches, insects, and soil, were torn up in massive chunks and sent flying, only to disintegrate in midair.

One sword strike. Just one.

The earth split open, forming a deep ravine over ten meters deep that stretched from beneath their feet all the way to the edge of the dense forest.

Ghost Shovel and Yuan Sou were sent flying backward just as quickly as they had charged forward. The two tumbled into the depths of the dense forest, carving two long, narrow gouges in the ground. They barely managed to stabilize themselves, relying on their Candle Cloud Cultivation.

Yuan Sou’s ape-like body was covered in deep gashes. Fresh blood gushed out, dripping to the ground and exuding the heady aroma of wine. But he paid no heed to his injuries. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he shrieked, "Heavenly Sword?! How is this possible!"

Lian Xuanyao’s seemingly playful sword strike had mobilized all the surrounding nature’s spiritual energy. It was unmistakably the exquisite Sword Intent that the legendary, now-departed Sword Immortal had once demonstrated after drinking. To use human will to commune with heaven and earth, to wield the sword on behalf of heaven itself. With a single swing, he had sent both him and Ghost Shovel flying—sent flying, not killed. Lian Xuanyao hadn’t intended to kill them. That strike was more like... more like...

Yuan Sou wracked his brain. He was unsure if it was the effects of the Monkey Wine making his thoughts sluggish, or if he instinctively recoiled from using those few, insulting words. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to describe it.

"Heavenly Sword? Heh, no." Lian Xuanyao smiled faintly. "Take a closer look."

He tapped his foot lightly on the ground, his figure floating up ethereally as he executed another sword strike from afar. Nature’s spiritual energy gathered once more, transforming into a roaring gale. Yuan Sou instinctively crossed his arms before him, tilting his head up to face the majestic Sword Qi descending from the sky.

SWISH, SWISH, SWISH—

Streaks of the ethereal, spiritual energy-laden wind easily sliced through his skin, which had been enhanced by the Monkey Wine, covering Yuan Sou’s Body with hundreds upon thousands of fine cuts.

No, this isn’t Sword Intent.

Yuan Sou finally understood. Before the Taibai Sword Immortal had gone mad, he was free-spirited, loved making friends, and enjoyed roaming the mountains and rivers. Despite being a Candle Cloud Cultivator, he put on none of the airs of a Great Practitioner. He would even demonstrate his Sword Skill to his mortal friends after drinking, using his exquisite swordsmanship to carve spontaneously composed Poetry onto mountain cliffs and the walls of taverns and pavilions.

For years, rumors persisted that the Sword Immortal had infused his entire life’s learning into these "Sword Poems." People constantly traveled to various places to collect, make rubbings of, and copy these poetic inscriptions, attempting to comprehend the Taibai Sword Immortal’s legendary Sword Intent from them.

As a Sword Master himself, Yuan Sou had once joined in the pursuit. He wasn’t certain how much of value there was to learn from the so-called "Sword Poems," but he was certain that Lian Xuanyao’s sword strike was entirely different from the Sword Immortal’s.

This isn’t Sword Intent... It’s... a Wind Talisman...