Chapter Fifty-Six: Flowing Eastward

“So what if I am aggressive?” The youth thrust his long spear forward.

Spear-light surged, silver sparks dancing along the snowy tassel. With one motion, the spear burst into a thousand radiant blossoms, dazzling as fireworks, cascading through the air toward Xu Zhong.

“Then I’ll kill you!” Xu Zhong’s demonic aura surged—he didn’t hesitate. He summoned his treasured gourd, from which poured endless sword-light, manifesting as two true dragons, one of yin and one of yang.

“You think you can kill me, Xu Zhong? You’re not nearly capable enough.” Spear met sword.

Sword-light and spear-light shattered, scattering like drifting willow catkins, swept outward on a furious wind.

Xu Zhong’s mind split three ways—controlling his gourd, summoning his rattle-drum, and conjuring his jade scepter.

A deep reverberation rang out from the drum.

Xu Qiao suddenly felt his soul and consciousness freeze for an instant. He jerked his head up to see a jade scepter, luminous as a full moon, descending toward his brow.

“Azure Dragon Pillar!” Blue light flashed.

At once, a cerulean dragon soared from his five internal stars, coiling protectively around him.

The jade scepter struck, but did not shatter Xu Qiao’s soul.

Again, the drum resounded.

Xu Qiao’s soul trembled violently, nearly torn from his body. He eyed the scepter and drum, his expression darkening: “His soul-forging treasures don’t just threaten me—they cow everyone present.”

A wounded body could be restored by secret arts, but a soul’s injury required one to enter Fengdu and fetch a ladle of Lethe’s water.

Fengdu—a place the living could scarcely reach.

For a moment, those cultivators who might have aided Xu Qiao hesitated.

“Black Tortoise Pillar!” The azure dragon returned to his body, replaced by a black tortoise.

The tortoise, using the arts of life and death, shielded him from the drum’s tolling.

“Great River Sword Intent!”

Xu Zhong’s gourd roared forth a river of sword-qi.

Starlight from three hundred miles gathered into the torrent, visible and palpable to all within half the sixth Jade Tower.

This river of sword-qi flowed in two layers; beneath the visible star-river, a dark undertow churned.

Xu Qiao failed to perceive that hidden current. He pressed his spear against the river.

The sword-light vanished with a crash.

“Is that all?” Xu Qiao sneered—then, suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.

Sword gleams materialized from nothing, slicing at him from every direction.

Xu Qiao flicked his spear, sparks leaping, but the sword-qi pressed him firm.

Then he was swept into the sword-river, his struggles useless. Blood gushed from finger-sized holes in his body.

Xu Zhong controlled the sword-qi, intent on rending Xu Qiao limb from limb.

But then thunder exploded, drumming like war, pounding in an unbroken torrent, scattering Xu Zhong’s sword-light.

“Fellow cultivator, your bloodlust is too great.” A purple-haired youth strode forth.

His hair and beard crackled with purple, his voice rumbled with thunder, and a single horn crowned his brow—dividing the divine thunder into yin and yang, radiating vigor.

“Lei Kui, you have no shame.” Xiang Dongliu seized his wine gourd, took a deep draught, his sword case at his back nearly opening, a surge of sword-intent bursting forth in the shape of a blue dragon, slicing through Lei Kui’s thunderous voice.

“He only defended himself; it was Xu Qiao’s lack of skill.” Xiang Dongliu belched, the sword case sealing again, the sword-intent fading to nothing. “If your skills are lacking, you die. If you are better, how is that bloodthirst?”

“Xu Qiao only wanted him to erase the mark he left on the divine statue, but he sought to kill—how is that not bloodthirsty?” Lei Kui’s voice thundered with killing intent, his horn exhaling dark and bright thunder.

“Get your facts straight.” Xiang Dongliu opened his sword case—thirty-six sword caskets spat sword-qi, facing Lei Kui across the void. “This fellow warned him first. Xu Qiao refused a check and pressed his attack. If not him, who should die?”

The thirty-six sword caskets formed behind him in an array, their sword-qi whistling, blue dragon forms weaving, the air swirling at his will.

“You, Lei Kui, are as rude as he is.” The sword caskets aligned in a celestial formation, sword-light condensed into a storm of steel, the energies of metal surging.

“If you ask me, you people care nothing for the truth. All you want is to study why he can stir the divine statue!” Xiang Dongliu pointed at Xu Zhong, but the sword-storm targeted Lei Kui.

“Your divine ancestors always acted with honor and openness, but you juniors—scheming in the shadows—are truly contemptible.”

Everyone present was shrewd.

Each family had records of Heavenly Yong City.

Heavenly Yong City, twelve Jade Towers; the first eight each bore a divine statue.

The statues signified cultivation realms; to contemplate them was to comprehend those realms.

For millions of years, the statues stood atop the towers—none could move them, no matter how they tried.

But Xu Zhong was an exception.

He had drawn the statue’s attention.

Xu Zhong surveyed the scene, quickly discerning the alliances.

Lei Kui was from the Kui Bull divine clan.

Xu Qiao was not of divine blood, but a serpent demon with thirty thousand years of lineage.

Xiang Dongliu was human.

Previously, others had not intervened, partly due to the presence of powerful human cultivators like Xiang Dongliu.

Lei Kui glanced at him. “And what right does a human have to judge the affairs of the divine clans?”

“And what right do you, Lei Kui, have to judge the affairs of humankind?” Xiang Dongliu retorted, thirty-six caskets singing with sword-cry.

“Friend.” He looked at Xu Zhong. “Today, we’ll guard your back—no one will disturb you.”

Behind him, several human cultivators shook their heads with sighs, but stepped forward, displaying their treasures.

“It seems this Xiang Dongliu commands great respect among the humans,” Xu Zhong mused.

“We’ll have to settle this, it seems.” Lei Kui sighed.

Then wind and thunder howled.

Endless silver lightning-serpents poured from his mouth, snapping and blasting toward Xiang Dongliu.

Xiang Dongliu stood unflinching, turning his sword array.

Sword-light, thin as cicada wings, danced like fireflies within the array, dicing the lightning-serpents into a thousand splinters.

Lei Kui’s hands moved with blinding speed, weaving seal after seal of thunder.

From those seals emerged thunder serpents, thick as barrels, twisting and writhing, their bodies crackling, electric snakes darting in all directions.

On one side, Xiang Dongliu and Lei Kui clashed, while human and non-human cultivators faced off, each wary to make the first move.

“It seems no one can save you now.” Xu Zhong’s demonic energy surged.

His left hand gripped the gourd, his right the precious lotus, the rattle-drum and jade scepter swirling behind his head.

“I know your tricks now. The outcome is far from certain.” Xu Qiao could see Xu Zhong had only just entered the Unification Realm.

His mana was a chaos of five energies, clearly not yet refined into a golden core—not yet fully purified.

What he relied on was merely his magical treasures.

Xu Qiao’s mind stirred.

“Four Symbols Divine Pillars!”

Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise took form upon him—dragon coiling his frame, tortoise cradling his soul, vermilion bird at his back, white tiger fused to his spear.

The dragon strengthened his vitality, the tortoise protected his soul, the bird connected him to the heavens, drawing in spiritual energy, while the tiger enhanced his weapon’s might.

At this moment, Xu Qiao fought with all his strength.

His spear quivered.

The tip blazed with blinding light.

A white tiger roared faintly, the energy of pure metal suffusing the air, transforming into countless spear-shadows attacking from every side.

“So weak, and you dare call it the energy of pure metal?” Xu Zhong sneered.

His gourd conjured a vortex, greedily swallowing the metallic energy, then spat out silvery sword-light.

Though the energy was consumed, Xu Qiao’s spear was another matter.

He jabbed at Xu Zhong, the air exploding with thunderclaps, blue light bursting in sheets.

Xu Zhong’s barrier technique could not stand for even a breath. The spear-tip dropped again, tearing his protective divine light.

Xu Zhong spat fire.

The flame coiled like a dragon, spiraling upward, only to be scattered by a single thrust from Xu Qiao.

The drum sounded once more.

With a single beat, the black tortoise pillar above Xu Qiao shattered, its spiritual light sucked into the drum.

One beat to subdue the soul, two to shake it, three to capture, four to pursue—the drum’s fourth beat would awaken the soul, turning it against its host.

Xu Qiao shuddered inside, barely managing to re-form his black tortoise pillar.

Xu Zhong then unleashed a mighty spell.

His whole body swelled to twice its height, muscles bulging, more like a giant spirit than the true giants themselves.

He swung his fist at Xu Qiao.

Caught off guard, Xu Qiao blocked with his spear, but took a direct blow.

The force sent him flying three or four lengths, stumbling another six or seven before regaining his footing.

The white tiger pillar on his spear was smashed to pieces.

Xu Zhong now raised his gourd.

From it erupted infinite sword-light.

Xu Qiao hurried to fend it off with his spear.

But as he did so, the jade scepter once more descended toward his head.

“Xu Qiao is finished,” murmured the watching cultivators, both human and otherwise. “Threefold focus—what a terror.”

Others could only wield their spears with full attention, but he—he manipulated three treasures at once.

The jade scepter struck Xu Qiao’s head, shattering the newly restored black tortoise pillar.

And then the drum sounded again.

Deprived of the tortoise’s protection, Xu Qiao’s soul flew uncontrollably from his body, drawn toward the drum.

This was the soul-pursuing beat—a deathly art that snatched away the spirit.

With no soul, Xu Qiao’s body was but a rootless tree, and he collapsed.

Within Xu Zhong’s brow, his soul transformed into a yellow dragon, once more subduing his inner demon.

Threefold focus: the inner demon, and the dual aspects of yin and yang.

Control of the body was yang; control of objects, yin; the inner demon, a second yin.

Xu Zhong collected his treasures.

At that moment, a dull roar echoed from afar.

A powerful scent of blood drifted over.

Then, Xiang Dongliu appeared, one hand clutching Lei Kui’s head, the other his wine gourd, drinking deep.

Lei Kui was dead!

With their leader slain, the divine clans on the sixth level lost all will to fight.

Xiang Dongliu tossed the head at Xu Zhong’s feet.

It rolled, finally coming to rest before Xu Qiao’s corpse.

The two dead men stared at each other, unable to find peace.

“You—” Xiang Dongliu began, but suddenly his expression changed.

He seemed to see something unspeakably terrible.

Xu Zhong spun around.

And saw—the divine statue was moving.