Revenge?
He looked at Liu Qiao’e, thick confusion emerging in his pitch-black, glossy eyes.
He should have sought revenge. But compared to hatred, what permeated his body more was pain—a pain that felt like his flesh, blood, and divine soul had all been torn apart.
She had already made it clear. The Immortal Alliance wanted to kill Ling Yuan.
She was merely acting on behalf of the Immortal Alliance.
Even without her, there would have been Song Miaoling, Lai Yongle…
If that stupefying drug was truly an improvement on the Great Dream Pill, then his true enemy should have been Qingxu.
Mu Daoying smiled miserably. Should he thank her for at least piercing his master’s heart with one sword, giving him a quick death?
Reason was reason, but the pain exploding in his chest like fire made it impossible for him to view the woman before him calmly any longer.
Mu Daoying’s pale lips moved. He slowly bent at the waist, groped about, and picked up the broken sword from the ground.
Liu Qiao’e’s expression turned exceedingly ugly in an instant.
“You’re mad!”
“Do you really think you can beat me?”
Her gaze was like a knife, icy and piercing. She emphasized slowly, “Do you know what it means for you to draw your sword against me?”
With the longsword in hand, that cold touch steadied Mu Daoying’s mind. After years of cultivation, the sword had almost fused with his divine soul—it was a weapon of slaughter, but also half of his very being.
His frail back gradually stopped trembling. His breathing steadied as well.
“I know.” He said calmly, slowly, as if his tears had run dry.
Liu Qiao’e sneered coldly. “Do you think I won’t kill you?”
“One who exhausts their path and dies—that is the righteous fate.” A trace of resolve entered Mu Daoying’s calm tone.
“Good!” Liu Qiao’e laughed coldly. She summoned the White Lotus. “Since you’re so set on dying, I’ll grant you that!”
“Come on! Considering our foundations, I’ll let you have a few moves.”
Mu Daoying took a slow, deep breath. He knew well the gap in their realms and did not put on airs. With longsword in hand, it hummed like golden jade. His body shot forward like a meteor, thrusting his sword!
What a fast strike!
Sword light flashed swiftly. As it neared her body, it split into a thousand streaks exploding before her eyes! Liu Qiao’e was startled. Even she had to retreat two steps to evade its edge.
Mu Daoying truly lived up to his reputation as a once-in-a-generation prodigy!
He seized the initiative. Sword light poured down like raging wind and sudden rain, like towering angry waves, linking strike to strike without end.
At that moment, Zhao Yange, Song Miaoling, and the others caught up. Seeing the sky-covering sword net, they all revealed expressions of astonishment.
A sword had sword qi—one breath, seamless, flowing straight like a river—that was the pinnacle of the sword path.
Mu Daoying unleashed this breath of sword qi beautifully. The longsword, forged of mere mortal iron, became a coiling dragon in his hand, roaring and stirring the stars.
One sword followed another tightly, like waves pushing forward, the front wave not yet settled before the next arrived. Surging endlessly.
To onlookers, it was like standing by the sea watching the tides—pleasing to the eye. But for one trapped in the sword net, it was far from pleasant. Sword light flickered like silver; each ray contained a killing intent.
Like a spider weaving its web, it blanketed the sky, trapping the person inside with no room to counterattack.
But was Liu Qiao’e an ordinary person?
In terms of combat skill, Liu Qiao’e might not even surpass Mu Daoying.
Each of his moves and stances, every step and turn, was crisp and efficient, honed through years of practice and real combat.
Her advantage lay in her foundation.
And foundation often decided a cultivator’s life or death.
Though Mu Daoying’s breath of sword qi was brilliant, it required endless true power to sustain.
With his foundation so severely damaged, how long could he last?
Liu Qiao’e eyed him coldly. As she expected, this move came from overdrawing all the true qi in his meridians and dantian!
Madman! Realizing this, Liu Qiao’e’s expression worsened, her hatred nearly burning through her heart and lungs!
Through Mu Daoying’s pale, refined features, she saw the paranoid madness burning in his veins.
She had long known he was a madman.
Anyone who stepped onto the path of cultivation, clinging to the elusive dream of immortality—who wasn’t a madman? Mu Daoying just hid it well!
He hated her that much?! Willing to overdraw his future path of immortality today, striking at her like an egg against a rock?!
She hardly needed to exert herself. She just had to wait for his true qi to run out, and victory would be hers.
But Liu Qiao’e harbored deep hatred in her heart—how could she let him off easy? She was no ordinary person either. On one side, lotus petals scattered, swirling around her to guard her vital points. On the other, the Blood Rakshasa flew out.
Blood serpents plunged into the storm of sword light, biting with splashes of vermilion, scattering shards of silver! Twisting out a dazzling, heart-pounding silver glow!
Mu Daoying’s face visibly paled further. He forcibly urged his ruined dantian, making the sword radiance surge once more!
But the stronger the sword light, the stronger the vermilion.
Soon, a trickle of bloody froth dripped from the corner of Mu Daoying’s mouth.
Shen Chengyin could no longer maintain her composure. She stepped forward involuntarily and shouted, “Ning Xia!”
Lai Yongle scolded her lowly. “Little Shen! Don’t move recklessly!”
Shen Chengyin: “But the Elder—”
She held back, veins bulging at her temple, and finally restrained her emotions. “How can Ning Xia possibly defeat the Old Mother? This disciple fears for his life.”
Lai Yongle: “That’s his own choice! It’s what he wants! Besides, why don’t you watch a bit more?”
Shen Chengyin paused, then looked again.
Mu Daoying closed his eyes briefly. Shen Chengyin and Lai Yongle’s conversation did not reach his ears—or rather, at this moment, all things in the world had vanished from his sight and hearing.
He calmed his mind, closed his eyes, and instead of retreating, took another step forward!
Almost simultaneously, just as everyone thought the pale figure had been pushed to the brink by the vermilion, that silhouette erupted with blazing radiance once more!
“It’s the fifth realm!” An Immortal Alliance disciple cried out in alarm. “He broke through at a time like this—how is that possible?!”
In this life-or-death moment, Mu Daoying broke through the fourth layer with his damaged foundation, stepping into the fifth realm—the Finger Profound Realm!
It was simply unheard of!
The cultivation world had precedents of breakthroughs in dire straits, but cultivators usually retained intact foundations, suffering only superficial wounds like severed limbs.
“This isn’t good news,” Song Miaoling said.
“Even if he breaks through, overdrawing his spiritual root damages the foundation too severely.”
Di Chong’s expression was complicated as well.
“Victory or defeat may hinge on this gamble,” Song Miaoling said lowly. She fell silent again at the words “victory or defeat.”
After all, anyone could see who would win this desperate fight—or rather, this one-sided desperate fight.
Sure enough.
Mu Daoying had overdrawn his foundation for the breakthrough. Finally, his sword radiance inched forward, slowly but firmly suppressing the blood-red hue, gaining the upper hand.
Sword light encroached bit by bit on the fierce vermilion.
Mu Daoying was not blindly offensive either.
His sword momentum slowed, now soft like spring rain, like a silkworm spinning a cocoon, gradually wrapping and binding the vermilion.
The previously unimpeded blood serpents were finally hindered by the pervasive soft sword light, dancing cautiously in place, circling warily.
This tug-of-war made blood pour even more fiercely from Mu Daoying’s lips.
But just then, a faint cracking sound rang out.
Was it the sword cracking, or the man?
At this moment, Mu Daoying was like a bowstring stretched to its limit.
The mortal-iron longsword in his hand finally could not withstand the pressure of their cultivations and shattered abruptly into several pieces!
In the instant spiritual power exploded, the pale-green figure was struck flying several zhang by the backlash airflow—boom!
Finally!
String snapped, man wounded!
He flew like a severed kite, crashing heavily onto a jagged stone wall!
Sizzle—the protrudingstalagmite-like spirit ore pierced deeply through his back.
Mu Daoying’s five viscera shattered. He slid limply down the stone wall, collapsing to the ground, coughing up a mouthful of blood mixed with fragments of organs.
His vision blackened. In his daze, he saw a patch of pure white skirt hem.
After such an intense clash, her skirt hem remained pristine, untouched by dust.
But now, the layered lotus-petal skirt swept across the ground, stained with his blood, blooming into a bewitching red lotus in his eyes.
Mu Daoying coughed violently, a hazy mist rising in his eyes as he watched Liu Qiao’e approach step by step.
“What exactly are you holding on for?” Liu Qiao’e frowned, looking complicatedly at the rag-like, faintly breathing man before her.
Mu Daoying said nothing, just kept coughing with his head down. Bloody froth choked his throat, making it itch. His back arched slightly like a shrimp.
Even without words, Liu Qiao’e keenly sensed what he was thinking.
She truly understood this man deeply.
Gazing at his broken form, a thought suddenly rose in her. “Are you punishing yourself? Self-flagellating?”
Mu Daoying slowly closed his eyes at her words.
She crouched down and lifted his chin. “Look at me.”
His entire body shook terribly, as if enduring immense pain and shame.
Mu Daoying turned his face away. Blood froth seeped from the corner of his lips—this was his feeble resistance.
Liu Qiao’e’s face darkened. She applied a bit more force, turning his chin back.
Mu Daoying remained silent. His pale lips nearly bit through with blood. He stubbornly turned away again, a tear seeping from his thick black lashes.
Liu Qiao’e laughed coldly and roughly wiped away the clear tear at his eye corner with her thumb.
His skin seemed unable to bear any more external stimulation and trembled fiercely again.
Liu Qiao’e drew a slender sword from her sleeve and tossed it onto him.
A lifebound sword connected to the cultivator’s divine soul.
Feeling Encounter Spring’s aura,
Mu Daoying froze, finally unable to feign deafness. He opened his eyes involuntarily.
Glancing at the sword, his dark, glossy black pupils widened slightly. “Encounter Spring…?”
“It’s your Encounter Spring.” Liu Qiao’e said expressionlessly.
That day, she had seen him surrounded and killed by the Bone Devouring Sect. Furious and anxious, she later had Cheng Xun contact the Immortal Alliance for help. She had originally planned to return this sword to him.
But he had deceived her! For ordinary people or lovers, a few sweet words might smooth it over.
But she was not.
She could not tolerate betrayal! She had hated him from the start; it was just masked by love.
Now, his deception had thoroughly ignited that hatred.
She had been blinded by romance. Ever since Luo Naji appeared in Fogveil City, she should have known there was no future between her and him.
Mu Daoying seemed to think of something and froze again. He could no longer maintain his feigned indifference.
“You…” He couldn’t help lifting his eyes and lips.
A flash of surprise and struggle crossed his eyes. His lips trembled anxiously; his slightly raised chin seemed to crave something.
But what exactly he craved, Mu Daoying’s mind was in chaos, clueless.
“You know you can’t kill me.” Liu Qiao’e’s voice was like cold snow, distant, as if floating down from the heavens, seeping into the skin.
Mu Daoying’s body trembled. Finally, he spoke lowly and bewilderedly. “But I can’t not do it…”
Having seen Liu Qiao’e kill Ling Yuan with his own eyes, he should have hated her. But he could not hate her.