Chapter 39

Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW

Chapter 39: Kill Mu Xuan Ye

At this moment, beneath a stunning sword strike, Mu Xuan Ye lost all ability to resist. The Star Lock flew from her palm, and the Lonely Star sword sent her flying, landing beneath a wutong tree nearby the altar, her clothes stained with blood. She looked at Ming He, her expression unclear but burning with intensity, before a smile emerged—one that was blood-smeared and crazy, as if a child had found their beloved toy.

Ming He gazed at her, and after being wounded, her flow of light shattered on its own, allowing her to clearly see all of Mu Xuan Ye’s features.

With a breathtaking appearance and formidable cultivation, she was cold-blooded and merciless, donned in attire similar to Ji Wu Xu’s but darker in hue—a deep red. The dark red, now stained with blood, faded slightly, and paired with her grim smile, she looked like a hellish executioner, deeply proud and unapproachable, treating human lives like weeds and amusement as their plaything.

"So what if I am?" Mu Xuan Ye propped herself up, still exuding an air of superiority even after facing defeat. Although she had fallen to the ground, her clothes stained, she held her head high, just as before.

She remained the proud and revered Left Envoy of the demon race, Mu Xuan Ye.

"Therefore, I will send you down!" Ming He gripped her sword, well aware of the principle of eliminating threats to avoid future troubles. She glanced at the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator, who leaned against a stone pillar with a dazed expression. "Friend?"

"The sword intent of heaven and earth, half-step sword intent, Spirit Guiding stage nine levels, the Star Lock recognizes its master!" The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator murmured in disbelief, and after hearing Ming He’s voice, she responded almost a beat later, "Huh? Did you call for me?"

"I want to kill Mu Xuan Ye," Ming He stated simply. The Left Envoy of the demon race, an empress to the Dragon Hero, with cultivation profound beyond reach—none of that mattered.

She wanted to kill her simply because she had just tried to kill her.

It was purely about revenge; she would not let this go.

The chill in Ming He’s eyes flickered as her voice rang clear, filled with a faraway clarity, “What do you think, Friend?”

"Okay." The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator paused, momentarily putting away her other emotions, and answered gravely.

The Left Envoy of the demon race, Mu Xuan Ye, had repeatedly led the demon race to invade the human race. Her actions had always been heartless and brutal; killing was merely a game to her.

Such a person deserved eradication long ago.

She was just too strong; her predecessors could not defeat her and had to seal her here.

Now that the opportunity to kill her had arrived, they could not let it slip away.

"Meow—"

The black cat suddenly cried out, whether it understood their conversation or not. The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator remained momentarily shocked, but quickly gathered herself—Ming He’s fierce gaze, filled with murderous intent, showed she could withstand the cat’s interruption better than she could.

"The affairs of the world are singular; there is no second chance. A second time is of no use." Ming He turned her head to speak to the black cat, then leaped into the air, wielding her sword in a precise motion aimed at Mu Xuan Ye’s heart, intending to strike her down in this realm.

It was only at that moment of drawing her sword that she realized her cultivation had somehow broken through to Spirit Guiding stage nine levels. The inner spiritual energy within her was sharp and condensed, a natural breakthrough, even showing signs of reaching the Xuan Wei realm.

Was it because of the Star Lock? Ming He pondered, but the next moment, she recalled that the Star Lock had already recognized her as its master. Her heart skipped a beat, and her mood grew heavy.

Mu Xuan Ye was still not dead.

Ming He stifled her emotions, no longer dwelling on them, and focused entirely on the sword she was about to unleash: it was Flickering Light, her most powerful attack, the yellow-level remnants of the swordsmanship found in the library of the Liu Yun Sect’s third floor.

Mu Xuan Ye sat there, her posture disheveled and unresponsive—not unwilling to move, but incapable of doing so.

Her blood-red eyes were fixed on Ming He and the bright sword light, a rare flicker of emotion surfacing—surprise and a newfound seriousness.

Since she obtained the Star Lock, she believed she could escape the cave’s seal, but it turned out she could not.

It was not because her current cultivation was restricted from taming the Star Lock, but because the Star Lock had chosen a new master.

Thus, unless she eliminated the master chosen by the Star Lock, even if this ancient spiritual artifact remained in her hands, it would be as useless as scrap metal.

She contemplated this, even utilizing the probing technique. Though it was inconceivable, the results showed that the master chosen by the Star Lock was indeed Ming He—a mere Spirit Guiding cultivator.

To kill Ming He, she could not escape; she could only trick her into coming closer.

So she declared that this cave was opened for Ming He.

She meticulously expended her energy to manifest the cave for a month, and then depleted her cultivation to lower the entrance requirement to below Xuan Wei.

However, this could not guarantee that she would be able to wait for Ming He.

After all, when she first stepped into this cave, she was only at the early stage of Spirit Guiding, and in three months, she did not believe that the girl in blue’s cultivation and strength would make any significant progress.

But unfortunately, this realm was always different from what she had imagined.

Unfortunately, Ming He had entered.

Unfortunately, she was about to die.

Mu Xuan Ye gazed deeply at Ming He, etching her appearance into her soul. Even if she had to die, she wanted someone to accompany her in death.

That way, it wouldn’t be too lonely.

She feared loneliness the most.

“Clang—”

A shadow suddenly emerged from the darkness, and in a flash, Ming He thrust her sword forward at lightning speed. The sword tip glimmered with a cold light, resonating with the grand momentum of the world. The starlight in the daylight illuminated her cold, resolute face as she matched her sword against the iron palm of the shadow.

That iron palm seemed not to belong to any human, as hard as profound iron. When it connected with the sword tip, sparks flew between them. The sound of "hiss" echoed, but Ming He continued her assault, her swordsmanship flowing like water. Though her hand was drenched in blood, it remained surprisingly steady.

She heard the voice of the man opposite her, "Why are you so strong?"

The shadow gasped and lowered his head to take something from his chest, throwing it towards Ming He. He quickly scooped up Mu Xuan Ye and vanished into the dust of the exploding spiritual artifact. “Left Envoy, let’s go!”

Left Envoy! A member of the demon race!

In the cloud of smoke, Ming He calmly sheathed her sword and approached the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator, her expression serene. Her peach blossom eyes shimmered, giving nothing away. That shadow… was Zhao Zhi Yuan.

Zhao Zhi Yuan, the fourth young master of the Zhao Clan in Qing Shi Town, had once had a brief encounter with her.

“Friend, are you alright?” Ming He helped her up, circulating spiritual energy in her palm and placing it against the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator’s back, starting to transfer energy. Both she and Mu Xuan Ye were injured, and severely at that.

However, when she recognized the Star Lock as her master, spiritual energy surged within her—not only had all her injuries healed, but her cultivation had even advanced several levels. The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator, on the other hand, remained wounded and pale.

Having fought alongside one another, she respected the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator’s mastery of swordsmanship and admired her courage in the face of death and willingness to battle the demons.

"Thank you for your assistance, Friend Ming He." The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator bowed earnestly, then spoke with a serious expression. "The Star Lock is of great significance; I need to explain some matters to you."

She looked at Ming He, her dark eyes clear. "If you trust me, please hand the Star Lock to me for a moment."

Ming He stared intently at her, and the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator remained calm under her scrutiny, not speaking. "Alright."

Ming He let out a light laugh and prepared to hand over the Star Lock, only to find her hand empty—the white long sword had been sheathed, gripped in her left hand. Where was the Star Lock?

Ming He looked surprised, suddenly feeling a heat in her chest. She moved aside the jade pendant left by her mother and discovered a star-shaped pattern behind it, which still faintly shimmered in golden light.

Ming He: "…Friend, how can I give it to you?"

"I told you, ask your heart." The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator understood her confusion in an instant, her words as warm as jade.

Ask my heart?

To give her the Star Lock meant revealing its true form.

Ming He became lost in thought, recalling the sensation of being engulfed by starlight. Suddenly, the starlight around her burst forth, and a star-shaped spiritual artifact slowly materialized, swirling around her.

With a touch of astonishment, Ming He looked on, feeling that her heart resonated with the sound of the Great Path at that moment, the rhythm of Dao unfurling, aligning with the might of heaven and earth.

No one could see that beneath the blood-dyed blue clothes of the girl, at her heart, under the star-shaped pattern of the jade pendant, a heart was beating in sync with the rhythm of the Star Lock, its tail end shimmering gold.

The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator grasped the Star Lock, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she directed a stream of sword energy from her fingertips into the Star Lock. The blood-sucking bees and spectral sparrows paused, bowed toward the altar, called out a few times, and then turned to return to the forest.

Kui still lay under the altar, his eyes clouded. The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator smiled at him, signaling for him to leave and return to his original place. The blood-red vines discreetly retreated, as suddenly as they had appeared.

The cultivators from various sects, previously trapped by the blood-red vines, slid down the tree trunks and lay in the muddy ground, their consciousness still in a daze.

The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator slowly lifted the Star Lock, forming a hand sign. The ethereal light from the Star Lock flickered and drifted, swirling around the fallen cultivators before returning to the lock.

Ji Wu Xu was the one they had overlooked.

Without the support of the blood-red vines, she remained conscious but was severely injured, leaning weakly against the tree trunk in silence, as the ethereal light summoned by the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator passed by her.

Ming He observed the noticeably paler face of the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator, pausing briefly, "Friend, is there anything else you wish to tell me?"

"Yes," the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator lifted her head, a faint smile on her pale face. "I want you to follow me to a place."

"Now?" Ming He asked directly, without hesitation this time.

"Yes, now."

"Then please wait a moment, Friend. I have something to do first," Ming He replied softly, gripping the sheath of her white long sword.

The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator seemed curious, "What is it?"

"Revenge!" Ming He drew her sword from its sheath and stood on the altar, pointing at the woman in red attire below, who had nearly caused her to fall off a cliff. The grudge of life and death cannot go unavenged.

"Ming He, how dare you!" Ji Wu Xu, leaning against the tree, heard the conversation above the altar and was taken aback, clearly shocked that Ming He would attack her after the danger had passed.

"Ji Wu Xu," Ming He called her name, leaping down from the altar, closing the distance to stand before her. She held her long sword, looking into the eyes of the proud Ji Wu Xu, her smile radiant. "Whether I dare or not, you’ll find out if you try."

Under the blue sky and white clouds, her blood-stained face looked somewhat disheveled as she spoke each word clearly and softly, but with strength, "I don’t like to hold grudges."

Ming He’s Peach Blossom Eyes sparkled with cool amusement, "Because I typically take revenge on the spot."

As she said this, she raised her sword to strike.

"Ming He, she cannot die," the faint and ethereal voice of the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator interrupted just before her sword fell, urgency hidden beneath her usual calm tone.

"Ji Wu Xu, the young leader of the Demon Race," the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator slowly stepped down from the altar and approached Ming He, looking intently at her. "The young leader of the Demon Race cannot die on human territory."

"Right now, with the foreign races invading and humanity in decline, we are already at odds with the Demon Race." Mu Xuan Ye hasn’t died; she was saved by someone from the Demon Race. Is that not a matter of life and death?

"If she dies, the Demon Race will breach the agreement and launch a full-scale attack on humanity. If that happens during another invasion, we won’t be able to fend them off. If the Martial Gate falls, the battlefield of the heavens will no longer be humanity’s last line of defense."

The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator explained her point carefully, the weight of her words evident as she spoke. "Therefore, Ji Wu Xu cannot die."

The young leader of the Demon Race?

Ming He blinked, recalling the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator’s words and finally remembering Ji Wu Xu’s identity in the original story.

It was also related to the Dragon Hero’s harem, but she was one of the villainous cannon fodders behind the scenes, attempting to break up the relationships.

The young leader of the Demon Race, the Senior Sister of the princess, had looked down on the Dragon Hero initially but later tried to break up his relationship with her Junior Sister. After being humiliated, she increasingly showed a tendency to join Su Yu’s harem.

Heh! She was indeed of noble status, undeniably significant.

Ming He regarded Ji Wu Xu, who was imbued with a sense of pride, and laughed coldly, feeling no kinship with her as a fellow villain. "So she just can’t die, right?" she asked the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator.

"Correct." The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator’s gaze flickered, her smile subtle.

"Alright." Ming He smiled as well. In Ji Wu Xu’s eyes, which reflected understanding, she thrust her sword forward.

The bone-chilling cold was sharp and piercing—Cold Sword!

Puff—

The long sword sliced through without any resistance, piercing Ji Wu Xu’s right shoulder and breaking through her defenses. The sword tip was mere half an inch from her heart. Blood bloomed, staining her red attire, adding a vivid splash of color to her already captivating appearance.

"Now we are even," Ming He said softly, her voice steady as she met Ji Wu Xu’s shocked yet fierce gaze. The sound of the sword sliding back into its sheath echoed faintly.

"Let’s go," Ming He said, turning to the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator.

"Just like that?" The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator remained motionless, rooted to the spot.

"Aren’t you afraid of retaliation?" she asked, her eyes locking with Ming He’s questioning gaze.

"What else can I do?" Ming He replied, her smile tinged with bitterness. Killing Ji Wu Xu was not an option, so inflicting a severe injury was the best she could manage.

As for retaliation, she was indeed afraid, but fear alone would not change anything.

She had no one to rely on. Her Master was no match for the young leader of the demon race, and the Liu Yun Sect could offer no assistance. She was on her own.

Perhaps there was still Qin Chu Yi?

Ming He’s thoughts drifted to the woman in white, as pure as snow, and her heart stirred. But then the weight of the Star Lock pressed on her mind. Qin Chu Yi desired the Star Lock, yet it had chosen Ming He as its master. What was she to do?

What awaited them once they left the estate?

Lost in these thoughts, Ming He felt a wave of frustration.

"You can do much more," the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator gently interrupted her thoughts. "Just watch."

With those words, she stepped toward Ji Wu Xu, looking down at her from her commanding height. Her calm and composed demeanor somehow made Ji Wu Xu feel an inexplicable sense of danger.

"What are you planning?" Ji Wu Xu narrowed her eyes, trying to discern the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator’s identity. Blood continued to flow from her shoulder, pierced by Ming He’s sword, yet she remained aloof and proud, her usual charm and playfulness nowhere to be seen.

"Make a Blood Oath to the heavens and earth. Until Ming He’s cultivation reaches the Wind Master realm, no one from the demon race, including you, may seek vengeance against her," the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator declared.

"And if I refuse?" Ji Wu Xu’s pupils contracted, her defiance evident as she teetered on the edge between defiance and submission.

The Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator paid no heed to her resistance. "You witnessed the battle earlier. You know I am both a sword cultivator and a formation master. You can imagine the methods at my disposal."

"You—" Ji Wu Xu’s expression shifted, uncertainty flickering across her face. She glanced at Ming He, a cold yet alluring smile curling her lips. "Let heaven and earth bear witness. Ji Wu Xu swears a Blood Oath: If Ming He’s cultivation does not reach the Wind Master realm, I will not seek retribution for today."

The woman in red spoke softly, her voice echoing faintly. As the last word fell, a hexagon materialized around her, circling her three times before vanishing—a sign that the oath had been sealed.

"I will remember you, Ming He~ Friend," Ji Wu Xu said, her tone laced with a mix of menace and amusement. Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the depths of the deep forest.

A Blood Oath.

Ming He looked at the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator, her expression a mix of gratitude and unease. She knew the gravity of a Blood Oath—a vow made to the heavens and earth, bound by the laws of nature. To break it would mean annihilation.

Yet, she had never demanded such an oath from Ji Wu Xu.

As the young leader of the demon race, Ji Wu Xu was proud and untouchable. Ming He lacked the power to compel her to make such a vow. Even if she could, the consequences of provoking Ji Wu Xu’s wrath would be catastrophic, enough to devastate the entire Eastern Region.

So, she could not.

By forcing Ji Wu Xu to take the oath, the Black-Clothed Sword Cultivator had shouldered half the demon race’s fury on her behalf. It was a gesture of solidarity, perhaps born from their shared battle.

Ming He smiled, her expression warm and radiant, like the sun in early spring. "Let’s go."

She said it again, her voice firm and resolute.