Chapter Thirty-One: Sudden Change

The Fourth Senior Brother had been watching Dragon Cloud’s escape route from the very beginning. He knew full well that Dragon Cloud was no match for Cui Huaigu, so when Dragon Cloud unleashed his earlier strike, the Fourth Senior Brother had already guessed his intentions and moved to block his path.

A wave of bitterness washed through Dragon Cloud’s heart. Forcing the five swords to unite had already drained much of his true energy; if he hadn’t strengthened his cultivation in recent days, he might have been utterly depleted. Now, with his path barred once more, he knew he had no strength left to contend with Cui Huaigu.

“I did not expect a disciple at the Gathering Essence level could force me back. It seems you have gained much from the Sword Stones of the Heart Sword Lineage,” Cui Huaigu said, a flash of unconcealed greed glinting in his eyes.

Dragon Cloud did not answer. He looked back at Cui Huaigu and retorted, “Your Elder Qiu has been secretly training so many bandit experts; surely you have long harbored ambitions of usurping power?”

At those words, all three faces changed dramatically. None of them had expected Dragon Cloud to say such a thing—after all, only a few core disciples knew of this matter.

“Do you realize that by saying this, you have sentenced yourself to death?” Cui Huaigu’s voice brimmed with murderous intent.

Dragon Cloud sneered. “And if I hadn’t spoken, you wouldn’t kill me? Strike if you dare! I have already sent the message out. Even if I die, your Heavenly Sword Lineage will not escape unscathed!”

“Courting death—” Unable to tolerate Dragon Cloud’s provocations any longer, Cui Huaigu’s longsword sang from its sheath. A sword energy, like a rainbow, tore through the air, aimed straight for Dragon Cloud’s chest.

A shrill clang split the air. The temperature around them plummeted as a chilling sword energy shot out from the side, carrying with it countless snowflakes, cold enough to pierce the bone. The two sword energies collided and dissipated with a thunderous crash.

“Flying Snow Sword Technique? Xiao Leng?” Cui Huaigu’s face changed involuntarily as he looked at the newcomer who had blocked his strike. His heart skipped a beat.

Xiao Leng was famed as the most talented disciple of the Human Sword Lineage, his cultivation equal to that of their senior brother Chang Yuan—a fact well-known among all disciples of the Jade Sword Sect. Though also at the Bone-Melting level, Cui Huaigu had never crossed swords with Xiao Leng, yet Xiao Leng’s reputation eclipsed his own. Moreover, he could not fathom why Xiao Leng would intervene on Dragon Cloud’s behalf.

Could it be that Xiao Leng wanted to kill Dragon Cloud himself?

“So, it’s Junior Brother Xiao. Did Uncle Duan send you to help as well?” Cui Huaigu asked, his tone subdued.

Dragon Cloud and Xiao Leng exchanged a look, a warmth flickering in Dragon Cloud’s heart. Though Xiao Leng appeared cold, he was kind at heart—this much Dragon Cloud could read in his eyes.

“No. I’m here to help him,” Xiao Leng replied, his words as concise as ever, reminiscent of the white-robed woman.

At this, the Fourth Senior Brother and Cui Huaigu both froze; even more so because the Human Sword and Heart Sword Lineages were like water and fire. They had been at odds recently, especially over Dragon Cloud. And yet, Xiao Leng declared he was here to aid Dragon Cloud. It was almost beyond belief.

“Junior Brother Xiao, perhaps Uncle Duan is unaware of your actions? If your appearance here disrupts the plans of Master and Uncle Duan, the consequences are not yours to bear!” Cui Huaigu’s voice grew icy.

Xiao Leng raised his sword. “It’s none of your concern. Draw your blade!”

As the Flying Snow Sword energy surged forth, the temperature within ten feet dropped sharply.

“Since you refuse a toast and demand punishment, so be it!” Cui Huaigu snorted coldly, then called to the Fourth Senior Brother, “Fourth Senior Brother, I’ll handle Xiao Leng. Leave Dragon Cloud to you!”

With a flash, he unleashed the Heavenly Sword energy in a dazzling arc at Xiao Leng.

Xiao Leng remained motionless. At the same Bone-Melting level, his Flying Snow Sword Technique afforded him a distinct advantage—an immensely powerful art of the Human Sword Lineage, not inferior to Dragon Cloud’s Five Deadly Sword Arts. Moreover, Xiao Leng’s spiritual bone had been replaced with that of a ten-thousand-year-old snow mink, which, while rendering his temperament icy, perfectly complemented his sword technique.

Snowflakes whirled around him as Xiao Leng brought out the full might of his art, true energy surging beneath his feet as he clashed with Cui Huaigu.

Though Xiao Leng had come to help, Dragon Cloud could not let down his guard. Judging by their strength, Xiao Leng was superior to Cui Huaigu and would defeat him in short order. But the Fourth Senior Brother would never allow him to wait for Xiao Leng’s victory.

The Fourth Senior Brother regarded Dragon Cloud with a smile. “Dragon Cloud, in only a year you have made a great name for yourself in the Jade Sword Sect—truly the greatest genius in a hundred years. But today, your life ends here!”

With that, he flicked his wrist. His sword sang from its sheath, unleashing all his Bone-Melting true energy in a single, merciless strike at Dragon Cloud’s head. Having witnessed Cui Huaigu’s failure, the Fourth Senior Brother held nothing back, determined to kill Dragon Cloud in one stroke. As for the secrets from the Heart Sword Lineage’s Sword Stones, he dared not dwell on them—this boy was too cunning, and might turn the tables if given the chance.

This sword held no quarter; Dragon Cloud was not meant to survive.

Gritting his teeth, Dragon Cloud gathered all his remaining true energy. A thread of golden light suddenly burst from his fingertip. This move was not one of the Five Deadly Sword Arts.

It came from Divine Dragon Island.

“Dragon Raises Its Head,” a peerless art created by a master of Divine Dragon Island, unmatched in power but requiring immense true energy as foundation. For Dragon Cloud to perform it at the Gathering Essence level was to leap across boundaries. Even if he succeeded, he would suffer terrible backlash.

A surge of majestic might erupted forth. “Dragon Raises Its Head” was born from the last battle of the Genesis Dragon God—when the dragon raised its head, the world trembled beneath its power.

Though the golden light was but a thread, it made the Fourth Senior Brother’s face change drastically, for its force surpassed even Dragon Cloud’s previous Five-Sword Unity.

A crisp chime rang out as Dragon Cloud’s golden beam shattered the Fourth Senior Brother’s sword energy, its force unspent as it shot toward his chest. The Fourth Senior Brother felt a chill of mortal terror and barely managed to twist aside, letting the energy pierce his right shoulder. Though wounded, his life was spared.

“What sword technique is this?” the Fourth Senior Brother exclaimed in disbelief, staring at Dragon Cloud.

A bitter smile curled on Dragon Cloud’s lips. His body was utterly depleted, his meridians aching as if stabbed with needles. He tried to speak, but blood poured from his mouth.

Forcing himself to bear the pain in his shoulder, the Fourth Senior Brother expelled the invading true energy, then gripped his sword and approached Dragon Cloud step by step.

The seventh disciple of the Heavenly Sword Lineage, Xu Zhan, hurried over, supporting the Fourth Senior Brother. “Fourth Senior Brother, your injuries are grave. Rest for now. Leave this boy to me.”

The Fourth Senior Brother nodded. His true energy had been expelled, but his meridians still throbbed painfully. If he didn’t recover at once, he risked lasting damage. He sat down cross-legged and began to heal.

Xu Zhan strode up to the badly wounded Dragon Cloud and spoke slowly, “Dragon Cloud, hand over that cultivation art. Perhaps we can beg Master for your life.”

“Go ahead. Save your words for the underworld, try them on your grandfather!” Dragon Cloud had not a shred of strength left—even raising his head was hard—but his voice was cold and unyielding.

“If that’s your wish, don’t blame me for being merciless!” Xu Zhan’s face twisted with malice as he raised his palm, bringing it down toward Dragon Cloud’s head.

At that critical moment, a streak of white light appeared from thin air, like an unstoppable bolt of lightning, piercing straight through Xu Zhan’s palm.

Xu Zhan screamed, but the sound abruptly ceased as a spot of crimson blossomed on his brow, spreading wider and wider.

Xu Zhan toppled backward, and Dragon Cloud allowed himself a faint, weary smile. He knew that aura all too well—it belonged to the woman in white.

So, you have finally returned.