Chapter 32#

Achievement#

Feng Xianyu unexpectedly saw a Zhuoyu in his dream who was completely different from the one in his memory.

He was loosely draped in black robes, standing on the Lingzhao Sword.

Beneath his feet were the towering, undulating, and dazzling Liuli golden roofs of the Qingque Sect.

Zhuoyu usually wore a coffin-like expression, but Feng Xianyu had never seen such a deadpan look. His features were already cold and sharp, but now he seemed more like a sword drawn from ice, his pupils black and bottomless, looking extremely terrifying, with bloodshot veins in the whites of his eyes.

The night wind was freezing cold, as if it were winter, with a thin layer of ice on the branches around.

Zhuoyu was silent, looking down at the Qingque Sect from a height, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he saw something. Suddenly, hundreds of snow-white sword lights burst out behind him, forming a ring around him, illuminating almost half the sky.

For a moment, the vertebrate of the Qingque Sect let out sharp screams in unison, like a sharp knife, instantly tearing apart the seemingly peaceful night of the Qingque Sect.

“What’s going on?!”

Kong Yan threw on some clothes and stumbled out from behind the screen. He had been asleep for less than an hour, and waking up abruptly made his entire brain throb with pain. He saw a disciple rushing in, stumbling and nearly falling flat on his face: “Bad news, Young Master! Bad news!! Terrible news!!!”

A bad premonition suddenly rose in Kong Yan’s heart.

The next second, he heard the disciple say with a mournful face: “The Sword Venerable from Qingdu Mountain has come seeking revenge!”

Kong Yan felt as if an invisible hammer had hit his head, his vision going white. He quickly rushed out the door and hurried to Kong Ji’s place. When he arrived, Kong Ji had just thrown a cyan feather into the center of Qingque Sect. Kong Yan was shocked—could it be that they had to resort to the Mountain Sealing Order?

A spiritual formation emitting a faint cyan light was rapidly unfolding around the father and son.

This order was passed down by the ancestors, with immense power. Even if a master-level figure attacked, it could withstand a bit.

Seeing the spiritual formation resist Zhuoyu’s thousand-sword formation, Kong Yan breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up and saw a figure within the dazzling sword light—it was Zhuoyu, his expression indifferent, looking at him as if he were a dead thing.

Kong Ji looked up, forcing himself to calm down: “Sword Venerable, may I ask why you have come to my Qingque Sect today?”

Zhuoyu floated in the air for a long time before speaking coldly: “Hand over Kong Yan, and I will spare your lives.”

As soon as these words were spoken, the disciples of the Qingque Sect erupted in excitement:

“How dare you!”

“What is this? How has our Young Master offended him?”

“Too arrogant! What does he take our Qingque Sect for?”

“I told you, birds of a feather flock together. That Feng Xianyu is no good, and how could Zhuoyu be any better? Just another madman!”

“Shut up,” Kong Ji said in a low voice, barely managing to stop the disciples’ curses. He looked up and tried to speak as gently as possible: “Sword Venerable Xuanli, I know that Yu’er’s situation has greatly alarmed you. I watched Yu’er grow up, and my son is even his close friend. How could we not be saddened… but in the end, Yu’er has disbanded, and it is not our fault. It has nothing to do with us. Moreover, his mutual destruction with the Demon Lord is an eternal achievement. In the next life, he will surely have endless immortal fate and achieve ascension without obstacle!”

Kong Yan’s heart was in his throat, feeling each breath longer than a year. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard Zhuoyu speak again, still in that calm, judgmental tone:

“Hand over Kong Yan, and I will spare your lives.”

Kong Ji’s temples bulged with veins, and he shouted angrily: “Zhuoyu! Don’t go too far! Even a master coming to my Qingque Sect wouldn’t dare to be so reckless! You’re young, do you think you can run rampant just because you’ve obtained the title of Sword Venerable?!”

Zhuoyu leveled his Lingzhao Sword, his frozen face revealing a chilling, surging murderous intent. He spoke through gritted teeth, one word at a time: “Hand over Kong Yan, and I will spare your lives.”

As soon as he finished speaking, tens of thousands of sword light phantoms burst out from behind Zhuoyu, like a river of stars, pouring down from the sky and pressing down on the Mountain Sealing Order like Mount Tai.

At that moment, Kong Yan heard a piercing screech in the air.

Kong Ji couldn’t stand still and urgently stabbed his sword into the ground. Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine:

Feng Xianyu had been dead for less than seven days. They clearly had no affection for each other. Why was Zhuoyu so angry? Why did he have to kill Kong Yan? What level of cultivation had he reached? How had he become so devastating?!

But there was no time to think: a massive sword phantom descended from the sky, cutting through everything in its path. The distant mountains shook and split in two from the force, the earth trembled violently, and it seemed about to strike the Qingque Sect.

For a moment, the panicked screams of the disciples overwhelmed the cry of the vertebrate that could travel a thousand miles.

In that instant, the entire world turned a pale white. The Mountain Sealing Order was stretched, compressed, and flattened by the hurricane, trembling pathetically as the endless spiritual torrent continued to rain down without end.

Kong Ji looked up at Zhuoyu’s godlike, merciless figure, and felt the blood in his limbs turn cold.

All around, the cries of many disciples rose and fell in waves. Kong Yan clutched his chest, staggering. Would they really have to hand over Kong Yan?

While he hesitated, the azure feather in his hand was trembling violently, covered in countless cracks.

Zhuoyu raised his hand, indifferent, and pointed downward. His robes fluttered, and the spiritual torrent shot into the sky, then turned sharply downward, accumulating the mass of several mountains. With a thunderous roar, it crashed down.

A deafening explosion split the earth, and the Mountain Sealing Order shattered entirely. Kong Ji was hit as if by a heavy hammer, his bones seemingly broken, and was flung into the earth’s fissures. Countless buildings collapsed under the pressure, and the Qingque Sect’s gate, which had stood for centuries, split in two and fell to the ground.

Zhuoyu gazed calmly at the devastation, his face showing no emotion.

After a moment, he slowly descended. The tip of the Lingzhao Sword dragged across the shattered stones as he stepped through the ruins, walking step by step toward Kong Yan, who was coughing up blood.

“Last one,” Zhuoyu said.

Kong Ji’s pupils shrank to pinpricks as Zhuoyu raised his sword and brought it down. The head of the Kong family’s young master rolled along the corridor, and the flowing light sword shattered on the ground, bathed in a pool of blood.

…

Feng Xianyu woke from the nightmare with a start. When he opened his eyes, he saw Zhuoyu sitting by the bed, as if he had been keeping watch. Though still expressionless, he seemed peaceful.

Seeing him awake, Zhuoyu immediately reached out to channel spiritual energy into him.

Zhuoyu’s fingers were long and powerful, looking hard and cold, but in reality, they felt good to the touch.

Feng Xianyu glanced at them subconsciously, and suddenly, the black-robed figure from the dream, calmly wielding his sword to kill Kong Yan, appeared before him, merging with the white-robed sword cultivator before him.

In a flash, Feng Xianyu gripped the thin blanket covering him tightly, unable to breathe. Almost instinctively, he recoiled, avoiding Zhuoyu’s fingers.