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Chapter 10

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  2. I Have a Sword to Ask the Heavens
  3. Chapter 10
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Chapter 10: Title

"Isn’t it inappropriate for you two to flirt before me?" Song Chen smiled.

Though his lips curved upward, no warmth reached his eyes – only cold murderous intent lurked beneath.

Xia Shi shoved Suiyin aside and met Song Chen’s gaze. "Your face healed," she stated abruptly.

The smile slid off Song Chen’s face. Suspicion darkened his features.

How could she know about his old injury?

Four hundred years ago, he’d battled Xia Wuwei from Sanqing Realm. That woman’s blade had carved from his brow to jawbone, the Heartless Sword’s frigid energy freezing flesh and meridians. Even Divine Doctor Valley couldn’t erase the scar, forcing him into seclusion.

A hair’s breadth deeper, and that strike would’ve cleaved his skull – the memory still chilled him.

Only two souls knew this secret: himself and Xia Wuwei. Yet now this Xia Shi…

Dark energy erupted from Song Chen as his expression twisted. The oppressive force staggered Lu Ciyou and Jiang Xinian mid-combat, though Thirteen Ghost Domains fighters fared worse. Seizing the opening, the pair cut down their opponents and retreated to Wen Zhishu and Liu Sheng.

All but Xia Shi and Suiyin hunched under the pressure. Lu Ciyou gripped her silver gun, blood trickling from her clenched jaw as she forced herself upright.

Song Chen’s face contorted – smooth skin wrinkling, the old scar splitting open from brow to chin. Black veins crawled through the grotesque fissure, consuming half his visage.

"I recognize you now." His voice rasped with demonic hoarseness.

Xia Shi remained unmoved. "Do you?"

They vanished. Before anyone blinked, thunderous collision shook the jade floor.

Suiyin waved spiritual energy through the dust cloud. It cleared to reveal Xia Shi’s silhouette – willowy frame clad in black robes edged with golden sword-tip petals, their sharp embroidery warding off approach.

A wet cough drew attention. Behind Xia Shi, Song Chen knelt vomiting blood, his body imprinting the shattered wall.

Lu Ciyou sheathed her weapon with a derisive snort. "Overrated." She turned away, jaw tight.

Jiang Xinian’s gaze lingered on Xia Shi’s back. This wasn’t about Thirteen Ghost Domains’ weakness – the girl simply stood leagues beyond them.

He’d blamed carelessness or inferior weapons when losing to Lu Ciyou, but this… this was insurmountable. Even the proud young lady now stared at her trembling hands, veins bulging around her divine weapon’s grip.

"Song Chen of Jinzhou." Xia Shi’s calm voice broke the silence. "I remember."

Her tone matched her demeanor – detached yet piercing, those ink-dark eyes guarding secrets no mortal could unravel.

“Hahaha, you remember me? Should I kneel in gratitude for that?” Song Chen laughed bitterly, bloodied lips curling as he pushed off the ground with one palm and leaned against the wall to stand. Both his shattered blades lay destroyed by Xia Shi, leaving him weaponless and blood-soaked. The humiliation made his blood seethe – this defeat mirrored the past, another single-strike humiliation rendering him powerless.

Dark energy surged uncontrollably through Song Chen’s veins as he abandoned restraint, letting wrath consume him completely.

Xia Shi tilted her head toward the others without turning. "Fall back."

Jiang Xinian and Lu Ciyou instantly raised glowing barriers. Suiyin stepped closer instead. "What’s happening?"

Xia Shi stared. Even a blind man could see Song Chen’s swelling aura. "Are you dense?"

Suiyin jabbed Xia Shi’s shoulder with unusual severity. "Rude!"

Xia Shi’s brow twitched. Though not a demon, Song Chen’s corruption neared critical mass. No one could halt his self-destruction now.

"Your sword," Xia Shi demanded, eyes locked on the swirling darkness around Song Chen.

Suiyin blinked before offering Broken Stream’s fractured blade. Her gaze flicked to Xia Shi’s left hand – the bandaged "treasure" sword was worse than useless.

The hilt burned Xia Shi’s palm like molten needles – Broken Stream’s sealed spirit rejecting all but its chosen master. Yet Suiyin had carried it effortlessly. Xia Shi’s fingers spasmed as phantom pain shot up her arm, making her study the smirking woman.

"Problem?" Suiyin arched an eyebrow.

"Nothing." Golden light erupted from Xia Shi’s palm, engulfing the broken sword. Glowing threads wove across the blade, reforging its missing tip.

Icy energy prickled Suiyin’s skin, familiar yet alien – this sword’s chill mirrored her own, yet where hers brought unrelenting winter, Xia Shi’s carried spring’s thaw within the frost. Could such dual-natured energy truly belong to a backstabbing grave-robber?

"Move!"

A shockwave hurled Suiyin backward into a golden barrier. Above her hovered a glowing seal etched with runes.

"Is she dueling him head-on?!" Jiang Xinian gaped.

Lu Ciyou clenched her fists, stubborn hope burning in her eyes as she watched Xia Shi charge.

“No, she was waiting for the critical point of self-destruction. Shattering the opponent’s spiritual meridians at that exact moment would greatly weaken the blast,” Wen Zhishu murmured.

Suiyin turned. “And if she fails?”

“She’d endure the full eruption alone.”

Though phrased delicately, all present knew a cultivator’s self-detonation surpassed their normal cultivation by hundreds-fold – especially a demonic cultivator. The unleashed spiritual power carried traces of demonic energy, ready to invade anyone careless enough to let their guard down.

Missing that fleeting opportunity meant certain death for Xia Shi.

The silent young lady finally blinked her parched eyes. “…Madness,” she rasped, hoarse voice barely audible.

She grabbed her spear, but Suiyin seized her arm.

“What to do?”

“Assist her!”

“You know the critical moment?”

“We just watch?!”

Lu Ciyou’s face flushed with anger. She never owed debts – owing Xia would make her despise herself.

“You can’t exit.” Wen Zhishu interjected.

Lu Ciyou shook off Suiyin’s grip. The barrier repelled her immediately. Repeated attempts failed – the translucent shield only prevented exit, non-aggressive yet unyielding.

“Tai Chi Seal’s barrier requires divine weapons to breach.” Wen Zhishu added hastily as Lu Ciyou hefted Soaring Dragon: “Forcing it would injure Xia Shi!”

Lu Ciyou paused, eyeing Wen Zhishu suspiciously. “Truth?”

“Truth!”

Snorting, the young lady hugged her spear. “Xia better hit that critical point, or I’ll scorn her!” Her gaze drifted toward Xia Shi despite herself, fingers tightening around Soaring Dragon.

Meanwhile, Xia Shi’s blade pointed steadily at Song Chen. While others fretted, she remained tranquil.

Her rising sword stirred chilling winds that lifted midnight strands from her temples. When she struck, all beneath Tai Chi Seal felt piercing cold.

Such potent sword energy!

A tyrannical force abruptly intercepted both the blade’s chill and Song Chen’s swelling explosion.

“Spare him, elder.” The androgynous voice resonated through the fifth floor.

Lu Ciyou stiffened. “Jiang Xinian! Your clan’s Broken Mountain Sea!”

She’d witnessed Jiang ancestors cleaving seas through Shadow Stone records – that single strike parting thousand waves remained etched in memory. Later learning it was their secret technique, she’d badgered Jiang Xinian for demonstrations, though he only wielded swords.

As junior, she couldn’t demand clan secrets… yet here it appeared unexpectedly!

Excitement lit Lu Ciyou’s eyes. Jiang Xinian’s face darkened.

"Lu Ciyou, stop spouting nonsense! Our Jiang family would never associate with these demons!" Jiang Xinian’s angry voice carried clearly through the air.

A soft, disdainful snort answered him.

Everyone turned to see an attractive woman standing before Xia Shi. Behind the woman lay the unconscious Song Chen, his clothes stained with blood.

Jiang Xinian felt chills under the woman’s piercing stare, cold sweat dampening his back.

Xia Shi kept her sword drawn, her eyes dropping to the crimson blade in the woman’s hand – a weapon steeped in countless vengeful spirits.

The woman’s gaze shifted to Broken Stream’s quivering tip in Xia Shi’s grip. "That sword isn’t yours. Keep using it and you’ll destroy yourself."

"I’ve one strike left," Xia Shi countered.

A single strike to decide life or death.

Instead of fighting, the woman sheathed her blade and bowed respectfully. "My subordinate overstepped today. Allow me to offer these as compensation, if you’ll grant me this courtesy."

She opened her palm to reveal high-quality sword restoration materials, valuable though less precious than red jade.

"Your sword might need these."


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