Chapter 12: The Murderous Sword, Part 1

A flash of sword light flew through the air as several disciples from the Supreme Sect landed gracefully. Clad in azure robes, they appeared stern and solemn, young and old alike, as if carved from the same mold. Some bold cultivators whispered mockingly that the Supreme Sect was still the same—like celestial immortals descending from the Nine Heavens. The disciples merely dismissed the jests without a second thought.

At the forefront stood a figure with a smiling countenance and gentle eyes, his posture elegant and upright like swaying bamboo. This was Liu Jinge, renowned alongside Leng Fangxie as the “Twin Pillars of Swordsmanship.”

With everyone assembled, there was still some time before the secret realm would open, so the various sects began to converse, gradually forming several circles: the Three Sects, the Six Factions, smaller sects, and solitary cultivators. Though the Three Sects harbored their own intrigues, compared to the bloodthirsty and unscrupulous Blood Origin Sect, the Nine Heavens and Supreme Sect were more respectable. Their disciples exchanged glances and gradually opened up, speaking back and forth.

Among them, the leaders of the two factions spoke most freely. Li Lingchen noticed that Leng Fangxie seemed quite close to Liu Jinge. When facing the sword cultivator, Leng’s usual aloof demeanor gave way to a rare smile.

One dressed in scarlet, the other in blue; both were accomplished sword cultivators who stood out among their peers. No one could break the tacit understanding between them.

His master had endless conversations with Liu Jinge, mostly about cultivation. At Li Lingchen’s current level, he could not grasp the meaning and merely listened in confusion.

“Dao Lords Qinghong and Danliu are still so close,” someone sighed. “They say Dao Lord Qinghong is aloof and transcendent, unlike ordinary mortals, yet even he views others differently. If it weren’t for Dao Lord Danliu’s backing and the Supreme Sect’s protection, who knows how many troubles would arise.”

A disciple from Nine Heavens snorted, clearly displeased with Liu Jinge.

“Both being the twin pillars of swordsmanship, so close in spirit, flesh, and Dao, when will these two Dao Lords become partners in Dao?” Another’s words pierced Li Lingchen’s heart.

Someone covered their mouth to stifle laughter. “The betting pools at Lingfang Tower hold countless treasures pledged on those Dao Lords. If these two don’t marry, it’ll be hard to settle the scores.”

Li Lingchen shut his eyes tightly, irritated by the endless chatter about Leng and Liu. Unconsciously, he glanced toward them and saw the two holding their spirit swords, their swords facing each other as they slowly exchanged spiritual energy.

Could he really be his master’s destined one?

No, that couldn’t be...

How could his master love someone else?

This was their first meeting, yet he already harbored deep resentment toward the Dao Lord traveling with Leng Fangxie. Jealousy seeped into his bones, impossible to shake.

Darker emotions crept in—

Even if Liu Jinge truly were his master’s beloved, judging by his previous deductions, Fuheng would never agree. If only Fuheng would strike down Liu Jinge. As long as he stayed by his master’s side, no matter how one looked at it, Liu Jinge was an eyesore.

Oblivious to the malevolent thoughts of the newcomer, Leng and Liu remained immersed in exchanging their Dao insights.

After a moment, Liu Jinge withdrew his spirit sword, sighing, “Your comprehension is still as sharp as ever.”

Leng Fangxie raised an eyebrow. “Just a lucky moment. Are you not also talented, Dao Brother?”

Liu Jinge, slightly taller, lowered his gaze toward him, eyes filled with resignation. Although teased, he bore no shame, merely replying softly, “I spoke wrongly.”

Leng Fangxie’s straight lips curved into a small smile.

Liu Jinge remained as radiant and upright as ever, like a clear sky after rain. Though they seemed very similar—both otherworldly sword geniuses—Leng Fangxie’s heart was full of schemes, less open than Liu Jinge, who was a natural child of heaven and earth, forged by sun and moon.

Leng favored Liu Jinge precisely because he was so like him yet utterly different. After countless days and nights, they had come to know each other well—best rivals, best friends. When Liu Jinge recently confessed his feelings, Leng Fangxie had no direct response but secretly planned to pursue the Dao together.

Yet those plans must now be abandoned.

Fuheng still lurked nearby with a watchful eye. If he agreed without permission, would that not drag Liu Jinge into an innocent trap?

So, though close to Liu Jinge now, their relationship remained merely friendly.

Liu Jinge, a clever man, had long sensed something from Leng Fangxie’s distance. His eyes dimmed briefly but quickly regained their usual brightness. He recalled sending several cloud letters previously, all unanswered, and wanted to inquire further.

The divine consciousness residing in Leng’s body stirred, expressing Fuheng’s displeasure. Sensing Fuheng’s vague anger, Leng Fangxie did not wish to arouse hostility toward Liu Jinge, so he said, “It’s my first time leading the team; there are still matters to discuss with Dao Friend Wei.”

Then he departed.

Liu Jinge watched his retreating figure, his smile fading, many questions unspoken.

Yet he continued to look in Leng Fangxie’s direction.

***

The golden sun dipped westward, the sky darkened, and the moon rose like a phantom. Suddenly, several spirals of spiritual energy appeared out of thin air within the Green Mountain, marking the entrance to the secret realm.

The leaders of the Three Sects examined the quality of the spirals, probing the realm with specially crafted spirit instruments. Concluding the situation was stable and normal, cultivators with permission began stepping into the spirals one by one.

Only after the disciples of the Six Factions, smaller sects, and solitary cultivators entered, did the Three Sects send their own members in an orderly fashion.

Once all disciples had vanished, only a few leaders remained on site. Leng Fangxie’s eyes flickered slightly as he spoke with Wei Yun, then retreated to the Lanyun Seat for secluded cultivation. Shortly after, he returned, disguised as an unremarkable solitary cultivator. Moonlight poured like water, illuminating the myriad rivers and casting a faint glow over the spirals, a single ray slipping quietly inside without drawing attention.

Only Liu Jinge sensed something amiss. He turned to look but found no unusual movement.

The Green Mountain secret realm had limited spots, divided among the Three Sects and Six Factions, with only a few places left for smaller sects and solitary cultivators to compete for. This time, Leng Fangxie had purchased a spot from a solitary cultivator, suppressed his cultivation with a spirit artifact to return to Foundation Establishment stage, and thus entered smoothly.

The mechanism of the Green Mountain secret realm was to continuously test those within. Passing each trial granted rewards, and after enough successes, one could chance upon hidden inheritances.

Encounters and competitions among cultivators were rare; everyone sought their own path. Compared to other secret realms, Green Mountain had the lowest casualty rate.

Leng Fangxie aimed for the ancient artifact, the Primordial Pearl, rumored to grant an opportunity for Dao comprehension once every day. This suited his current situation perfectly—just one breakthrough away from entering the Transformation stage.

The Primordial Pearl would later be accidentally obtained by the male protagonist during a chaotic realm event. Leng Fangxie used it early on, then nurtured it with spirit energy to advance it further. Though returned with imperfections, it did not rob the protagonist of his chance.

As for other rare flowers, spirit tools, and inheritances, Leng disdained fighting over them, planning to exert effort in the final days to locate the Primordial Pearl.

Entering the secret realm, Leng Fangxie found himself in a dense forest. After waiting a while with no trial appearing, he assumed he must explore, so he chose a direction and moved forward.

The thick forest overlapped layers upon layers, blocking the sky. Beneath his feet grew only sparse grass. Leng’s divine sense was keen, yet throughout his walk, he detected no birds or insects.

Could his trial be to face an ambush in the forest? Or was it to escape the woods somehow?

Whatever the case, Leng was not anxious. His initial goal was simply to bide time.

Deeper he went, only the faint rustle of his footsteps breaking the silence. After an unknown stretch, a muffled sound suddenly reached his ears.

He focused, his figure becoming as fleeting as mist, moving silently several meters away toward the sound. Nearby, a battle raged.

A massive blue-scaled python confronted Leng Fangxie. Its thick body radiated immense menace, its cold, hard scales wreathed in black mist. Its snake eyes glowed crimson—it was clearly a snake demon!

Opposing it was a tall young man in blue robes, his body trembling slightly, clearly exhausted and near his limit. Had Leng not noticed, the man’s fate would have been only one thing—devoured alive by the demon.

There was no time to ponder why such a demon existed in the secret realm. Leng’s radiant sword flew swiftly from his Yuan cavity.

Suddenly, streaks of light pierced the canopy, falling upon the demon, which remained oblivious and pressed the man relentlessly. In an instant, the sword, wielding tremendous force, accelerated downward, the beams carrying weight as they descended.

The demon could not react in time. Its massive body was sliced apart and instantly turned to ash.

Leng Fangxie sheathed his sword and stepped forward calmly.

“Ah.” The man, surprised by the help, turned around. His face was handsome, but his expression was pure and innocent, like that of a child. His dark eyes stared blankly at the stranger, then after a moment seemed to regain his senses, stiffly saying, “You are a cultivator from outside.”

Leng Fangxie looked at him without making a move.

“Thank you,” the man added after a pause, though his tone was stiff and awkward, making the gratitude hard to discern.

Leng roughly understood that though the man appeared adult, his mind was somehow incomplete, behaving like a young child.

“Who are you?” Leng changed his approach, asking directly.

The man replied blankly, “I am Blue Robe.”

“Blue Robe?”

“Mm, Blue Robe... Blue Robe is... is the spirit of the trees.” His tone hesitated, as if recalling words someone else had once said, slowly repeating them.

No wonder Leng had felt an incongruity about him. He was a tree spirit in human form. The age of a tree differed from humans; no wonder the man seemed so childlike.

Leng asked a few more questions, learning about Blue Robe’s origins. Then he inquired how the giant python demon had appeared and why it was attacking.

Blue Robe answered honestly, “That’s not a snake. It’s a demon.”

Indeed, a demon!

But the Green Mountain secret realm had never shown signs of demons before. Demons born in the Fuyuan Realm could not penetrate the secret realm. How could demons be born here now?

Leng asked, “Demon... do you know where it came from? When was it born? The Green Mountain secret realm hadn’t shown demon traces before.”

“You don’t know? How strange,” Blue Robe looked at him, tilting his head. “Aren’t demons born from the hearts of your cultivators?”

Leng Fangxie was stunned.