Chapter 126
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Chapter 126: Sword Demon Mountain Peak
Song Guanting had once given her a jade slip, which meticulously recorded the emperor grade spiritual medicines required to awaken Qin Chu Yi. It detailed their origins, birthplaces, and the approximate locations where they could be found.
Ming He had chosen to venture into the Northern Wilderness in pursuit of the Four Seasons Flower.
The Four Seasons Flower, an emperor grade spiritual medicine, was unique to the Northern Wilderness.
The Northern Wilderness was a scorching, barren expanse where nothing grew. The Winter Weed tree she had previously encountered was the sole spirit plant that thrived there, embodying the desolation of winter and the barrenness of the land—a solitary speck of green amidst the swirling dust.
The Four Seasons Flower was the second anomaly; though a spirit plant, it was far from resilient. Its growth conditions were harsh and demanding.
The Four Seasons Flower flourished deep within the Northern Wilderness, enduring the howling winds and the pervasive demonic energy. It drew its strength from the forces of nature, cycling through the seasons, and bloomed only once every thousand years.
The jade slip offered only these scant details; it lacked descriptions of its appearance, growth habits, or the techniques required to harvest it, unlike the comprehensive records of the Asura Heart and Stupa Fruit.
What lay in the depths of the Northern Wilderness?
Ming He paused to catch her breath. Her fair complexion remained unblemished despite the swirling dust, though a faint sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Her gaze, tinged with weariness, stretched into the distance.
She had been trekking for nearly a month, venturing deeper from the edge of the Northern Wilderness, yet the true depths of the wilderness remained a mystery.
The Northern Wilderness was vast, surpassing even the boundless expanse of the Eastern Sea. Could a mortal truly traverse such a place?
Though doubt occasionally crept into her heart, the crescent moon jade pendant hanging at her chest swayed gently in the breeze, each subtle movement resonating within her, leaving no room for retreat or surrender.
Her Senior Sister was still waiting for her!
Ming He tightened her grip on her sword and pressed onward.
She was no mere mortal.
She was a sword cultivator.
Ahead, the dust swirled, and the cacophony of battle reached her ears through the howling wind. The acrid stench of alien blood was palpable, a dense and oppressive presence she could sense even with her incomplete spiritual ocean.
Another battle raged—a brutal, bloody conflict.
Ming He’s brows lifted slightly, her gaze steady and resolute. She showed no intention of avoiding the fray, instead quickening her pace to crest the sand dune. What greeted her was a scene drenched in crimson.
At the heart of the bloodshed, human cultivators clashed with the Tian Yan Tribe.
The towering, brutish forms of the Tian Yan Tribe tangled with the human cultivators, led by a young woman dressed in green. Her aura was razor-sharp, her spiritual energy pure and untainted—clearly a prodigy from a prestigious sect, well-versed in profound techniques.
This was a calculated massacre of low-tier Tian Yan Tribe members by the human race’s most talented cultivators, a scene Ming He had heard of but never witnessed firsthand.
The low-tier Tian Yan Tribe was so numerous that the human race periodically culled their numbers, much like farmers eradicating pests from their fields.
This battle had been deliberately instigated by the human race, yet it was far from risk-free. The alien races were inexhaustible in their strength, and the Tian Yan Tribe was drawn to the scent of blood. No one knew how many of them had infiltrated the Northern Wilderness.
Thus, the group of young cultivators before Ming He had stumbled upon a vast gathering of the Tian Yan Tribe.
The dust swirled, mingling with the shadowy figures of the Tian Yan Tribe. At every moment, new low-tier Tian Yan Tribe members surged into the fray, their numbers seemingly endless.
Ming He tightened her grip on the Jing Ying Sword, her eyes flickering briefly to the space behind her. The white-clad figure who had once followed her was nowhere to be felt.
In the past month, he had not reappeared during her moments of peril.
Had his protection been limited to the journey to the Northern Wilderness?
Ming He allowed herself a faint smile before charging into the battle. Her long sword danced with precision, deflecting the sharp claws of the Tian Yan Tribe. With her left hand, she seized the collar of the green-clad woman, pulling her to safety. In one fluid motion, she thrust the Jing Ying Sword forward, its blade piercing the heart of a Tian Yan Tribe member and ending its life.
Her sword was not swift, yet the Tian Yan Tribe could not withstand it.
The young woman dressed in green stood behind her, her eyes wide with astonishment. A strike devoid of spiritual energy was sharp enough to surpass her own.
How did she do it?
Of course, it was with a single strike breaking the myriad laws!
Ming He thought of these five words, her gaze calm. With a flick of her right wrist, she performed a flourish with her sword. The sword tip slanted sideways as her body crouched slightly, settling into a horse stance, her right hand raised the sword horizontally in front of her. In the next instant, she swung the sword as it poured forth, the tip shining bright, tracing a circular arc.
Within that circle, the heart of the Tian Yan Tribe lit up suddenly, sparkling like countless stars in the night; it was a beautiful crimson romance.
“Explode!”
Ming He parted her lips to speak, her gaze as calm as the sea. The Jing Ying Sword flicked in the air, and cold light splashed from the sword tip, erupting into a spray of blood.
The Tian Yan Tribe exploded like fireworks, turning to dust beneath her sword. Amidst the chaos, the young woman in blue was like the wind, her eyes devoid of any emotion.
The battle in the distance continued, but the predicament before her was resolved, thanks to this suddenly appearing Sword Cultivator in Blue.
Was she still a sword cultivator despite her incomplete spiritual ocean? Of course!
As long as she held the sword, and the sword could kill enemies, she was a sword cultivator.
“Are you injured, Friend?” Ming He sheathed her sword and turned to the young woman in green, who had a cultivation at the sixth level of the Wind Master realm. Her long sword shimmered with dim light, while her green clothes were drenched in blood, emitting a fierce, overpowering aura.
It was as if she had just crawled out of a sea of blood.
Before her arrival, she must have fought for a long time, depleting her spiritual energy and falling into a dangerous situation.
“I’m fine.” The young woman in green took a deep breath and swallowed a pill. “I am Xia Fengye, a true disciple from the Shanhai Sect in the central region. I thank you for saving me.”
She instinctively raised the white porcelain bottle she held to offer it to Ming He, but the next moment, her expression changed as if she had thought of something else, caught in a difficult conflict of words.
“I am Ming He, a true disciple from the Floating Cloud Sect in the Eastern Region.” Ming He smirked lightly, not minding the introduction, “My spiritual ocean is incomplete, so I cannot take pills, nor do I need to.”
She met Xia Fengye’s apologetic gaze with a carefree smile, “The Tian Yan Tribe is not finished yet; let’s talk after we finish them off.”
With that, Ming He lifted her sword and charged back toward the Tian Yan Tribe, moving toward the densest areas of the chaos, her posture upright and imposing.
The Blue Sea Sword was drawn from its sheath. After the Unsheathing Style, she transitioned into the Nameless Sword Technique, wielding two swords as she navigated through the bloodshed. The blue-clothed figure remained untainted by the chaos, appearing even more powerful than her Wind Master realm cultivation.
In truth, she was indeed stronger.
Ming He, in the Wind Master realm, unleashed her swords with spiritual energy, but once that energy was expended, she would have no more fighting power.
However, she was currently drawing power from her sword, wielding sword energy that was limitless.
What sustained her in battle was not the strength of a mortal body, but the sword energy of heaven and earth.
This was her path to cultivation!
The swordsmanship she practiced was not the spiritual sword technique of today’s sword cultivators.
In front of the Perseverance Hall at Qingyun Peak of the Liu Yun Sect, she first heard the name of the Ancient Sword Cultivators from her Master, Qu Lingyun.
Under the blazing sun at Chang Ming courtyard, she caught her first glimpse of the grace of Ancient Sword Cultivators from Qin Chu Yi’s sword.
Though that was not a true Ancient Sword Cultivator.
Her Senior Sister said the Unsheathing Style was the entry-level sword technique for Ancient Sword Cultivators, and that tattered stone page still lay within her storage ring.
The carvings on that stone page depicted the Unsheathing Style.
The eyes and movements of the sword cultivator etched in the stone still lingered vividly in her mind.
His gaze was cold and resolute, as steady as a mountain, unshaken even in the face of peril, relentless until his goal was achieved.
Ming He lifted her gaze to the boundless azure sky, a flicker of understanding dawning upon her. The tip of her sword still gleamed with a cold light—it was the sword energy of the first realm of Swordsmanship, pure and untainted by spiritual energy.
She believed her path to cultivation was not in vain, for she had long been able to wield sword energy with her long sword alone, without the need for spiritual energy.
Yet, sword intent, sword domain, and sword will remained beyond her reach.
At least, for now.
She aspired to walk the path of Ancient Sword Cultivators, a Swordsmanship that required nothing more than the wielder and the sword. That was all she needed.
But the reality seemed to differ.
Unsheathing Style!
The moment Ming He thought of these words, she was reminded of the day a figure clad in snow-white robes stood beneath the sunlight, posing a question to her. The woman’s voice was cold and clear, yet what struck Ming He’s heart more deeply than the voice itself was the question.
Qin Chu Yi had asked her, “Ming He, why do you practice the sword?”
Ming He had replied that she didn’t know, for at that time, she truly did not.
Her Senior Sister had assured her that it was fine not to know now, but in time, she must find her reason.
She needed to seek out a reason, a reason that made the sword indispensable.
A reason that made the sword indispensable!
Did she have such a reason?
Ming He flicked her wrist, sending a swift strike that severed the claws of the Tian Yan Tribe. The creature’s agonized howl and contorted face did not stir her emotions; her expression remained calm as she leapt into the air, executing the Liu Yun technique to sever its head.
This was Liu Yun, born of sword energy.
Her Master had once confessed that he had never truly grasped the sword intent of heaven and earth. At the time, she had dismissed it as the limitation of a Sect Master from a remote sect.
But now, she knew better. Her Master was no ordinary man; he hailed from the Floating Cloud Sect, his presence eclipsing the five regions, a shining star among the brightest talents.
How could he not comprehend the sword intent of heaven and earth?
Ming He frowned. Perhaps the sword intent her Master spoke of was entirely different from what she had imagined.
The true sword intent of heaven and earth.
A reason that made the sword indispensable.
Ming He slowly closed her eyes, yet a surge of sword energy erupted around her, swiftly cutting down every Tian Yan Tribe member that dared approach.
The cries of agony echoed across the land—a pain that severed souls, not merely flesh.
Though her eyes were closed, Ming He heard the harrowing screams with perfect clarity.
Did she practice the sword because of the Tian Yan Tribe? Was the sword indispensable only to eradicate them?
Ming He pondered deeply, then shook her head slightly.
No, that wasn’t it.
When she first took up the sword, she had been unaware of the Tian Yan Tribe’s existence, unaware of the chaos wrought by foreign races on the Tianwu Continent. Her sword had nothing to do with them.
If her sole purpose was to slay foreign races, what would stop her?
Fists can strike, palms can push, knives can cut—everything can be wielded; it isn’t solely about the sword.
So, is it to grow strong, strong enough to never bow to anyone? Is it because she desires to stand above, to gaze upon grand vistas?
Close, but not the full truth.
Her aim is strength, yet it transcends mere strength.
To be powerful does not necessitate the sword alone.
Then, what is the reason?
With a resonant chime, the Jing Ying Sword vibrated through the wind and dust, while the Blue Sea Sword slid back into its sheath, harmonizing softly with it.
The sound of the sword stirred her heart and sent tremors through her soul.
Ming He opened her eyes, tightened her grip on the Jing Ying Sword, and swept it outward, her gaze carrying a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
She thought she might have found the answer.
The sword is indispensable because of love.
Because she loves it, it must be this way.
She loves the sword, loves Swordsmanship, loves the unyielding, forward-driving spirit of the sword cultivator, loves their choice to seek the straight path rather than the crooked one.
She loves the unrelenting, fierce nature of Swordsmanship, standing naturally in the brilliance of light, open and resolute, opposing all darkness in the world.
She doesn’t know what others’ Swordsmanship looks like, but for her, the sword is sharp and unapologetic, not hidden or indirect—straightforward, rivaling the stars, the farthest blazing sun in the brightest expanse of the nine heavens.
The blazing sun she envisions.
The three-foot azure blade, her lifelong pursuit.
Whether it is the ancient Sword Path or the modern one, as long as it is Swordsmanship, it is Ming He’s path—a pure Sword Path.
The true sword intent of heaven and earth consists solely of the sword and its intent.
Ming He stood bathed in sunlight, her brows and eyes alight with vitality. In that moment, all despair and gloom vanished. Her blue clothes fluttered in the gentle breeze; she remained a proud, untamed sword cultivator, nothing more, nothing less.
The sword intent of heaven and earth.
She smiled faintly, drawing her sword, and the heavens and earth responded. It was a strike infused with the power of the World of Martial Arts, wind and thunder gathering at the sword tip, shaking the Northern Wilderness with a deafening roar. The Jing Ying Sword, trailed by the shadow of the three-foot blade, advanced slowly.
It was the sword intent of heaven and earth, yet it encompassed more than that.
There was also the sword will of heaven and earth and the Sword Domain.
That small space belonged to Ming He, a realm where she reigned supreme.
In her mortal form, she surpassed spiritual cultivators.
Ming He’s path to cultivation had not faltered but had instead advanced further.
It was a path nearing the realm of sword spirit, clear and luminous.
The Tian Yan Tribe shattered and scattered beneath the sweep of her long sword, blood mingling with the radiant sword light in a macabre dance. The Sword Cultivator in Blue stood amidst the swirling dust, casting a glance downward—neither cold nor unfeeling, but tinged with compassion and detachment.
“Xia, the true inheritance, that friend…” A cultivator who had escaped the clutches of the Tian Yan Tribe gazed at Ming He’s figure, at a loss for words.
“She is comprehending the path,” Xia Fengye said, sitting cross-legged on the scorching yellow sand, her posture one of protection.
A long while passed.
Ming He gathered her sword energy and turned around, her eyes flickering slightly in surprise as she saw Xia Fengye. “Xia, Friend…”
She was puzzled. Was Xia Fengye here to protect her? Though she didn’t need protection.
“Ming He, Friend, I thank you for saving my life and for your assistance,” Xia Fengye said solemnly, clasping her hands and bowing deeply, her eyes filled with both awe and respect.
Respect for the powerful has always been a tradition, and they were no exception.
“Thank you for your aid, Friend.” The cultivators behind her also bowed in unison, their expressions filled with reverence.
They shared the same youthful vigor and spirited demeanor.
These were talented cultivators from the five regions of the Tianwu Continent, gathered here to fight side by side against the alien races for a common cause. Now, they bowed in shared gratitude.
“Perhaps it is I who should thank you all,” Ming He murmured softly. Through this battle, she had found her true path to cultivation.
She smiled faintly, meeting Xia Fengye’s slightly puzzled gaze. “The Tian Yan Tribe hasn’t been completely eradicated. Do you plan to venture deeper?”
She thought they might journey together.
To her surprise, Xia Fengye raised an eyebrow, signaling her intent to leave. “Our mission is complete.”
Her blue robes fluttered in the wind as she explained gently to Ming He’s questioning look, “The low-tier Tian Yan Tribe is scattered across the Tianwu Continent. It wouldn’t be difficult for us to purge certain regions of the alien race.
But the Imperial Palace forbids it.”
Xia Fengye’s gaze was clear. “The Imperial Palace decrees that if we cannot fully eradicate the alien race, then we must not cleanse any area entirely.
The Tianwu Continent must never have a place of absolute safety.
Only then will cultivators remain ever vigilant.
This, too, is a form of training.
On the battlefield of the heavens, the alien races emerge endlessly, striking openly and in secret. For the human race to grow stronger, we must always remain on edge.
At a single command, we must be ready to fight—and to win.”
She sheathed her long sword. “The low-tier Tian Yan Tribe in the Northern Wilderness has been subdued. What remains can serve as training for our cultivators.”
Xia Fengye smiled freely, her eyes bright with vitality and a touch of ease.
The Tian Yan Tribe, treated as mere practice.
Ming He smiled as well. “Xia, Friend, do you know where to go in the depths of the Northern Wilderness? What truly lies in its deepest reaches?”
She asked earnestly.
Wandering blindly had proven fruitless; she had already traveled for a month.
Now that she had encountered fellow human cultivators, she naturally sought guidance.
She didn’t expect Xia Fengye to provide an exact answer, but even a general direction would suffice.
Yet Xia Fengye did know.
She glanced at Ming He, her expression complex. “Do you wish to go to the depths of the Northern Wilderness, Ming He?”
“Yes,” Ming He replied firmly. “Is there something amiss with the depths of the Northern Wilderness?” That complex look in Xia Fengye’s eyes still eluded her understanding.
“In the depths of the Northern Wilderness, a man once fell,” Xia Fengye whispered, her expression somber. “The true depths of the Northern Wilderness lie within a mountain.”
“What mountain?” Ming He’s gaze sharpened; this was not recorded on the jade slip.
“Sword Demon Mountain,” Xia Fengye said, her brow furrowing. “Ming He, do you know of Mu Chen?”
Seeing Ming He’s blank expression, she realized she hadn’t heard of him. Xia Fengye sighed softly, a hint of melancholy in her voice. The once-greatest of the Eastern Region, now forgotten?
But it was understandable. After all, it had been so long.
It was merely a legend now.
Xia Fengye lifted her gaze, calm and steady. “Though I don’t know what draws you to the depths of the Northern Wilderness, I know you will not turn back.”
Sword cultivators were always resolute, and she was no ordinary sword cultivator.
“The depths of the Northern Wilderness are home to Sword Demon Mountain, located in the far north of the Northern Wilderness. Beyond it, nothing else can truly be called the depths.”
