Chapter 27 Part 2

Not only did he master the techniques Xie Linlang had demonstrated earlier, but he also learned the sword moves left in the Jade Slip beforehand. He even tried to steal moves from the on-site Black Demonic Beast Spirit…

The more Shen He fought, the more exhilarated he felt. Though his Demonic Qi gradually depleted, the Emerald Jade Sword in his hand became ever more fluid, its edge lively and spirited, as if it had come alive.

His strikes were no longer straight and rigid as before. The Spirit Sword’s trajectory became unpredictable and profound. After dodging another pounce and sword fling from the Black Demonic Beast Spirit once more, Shen He suddenly felt divinely inspired. In mid-air, he unfurled his body like a nimble black bird, lightly veering aside.

Demonic Qi swirled into a vortex. The thrust flying sword followed the vortex’s agitation and pull, effortlessly—and without expending any Demonic Qi or Divine Sense—eerily and nimbly looped back.

Pfft!

The Emerald Jade Sword pierced the Black Demonic Beast Spirit’s nape without fanfare, silently.

The Black Demonic Beast Spirit froze as if a pause button had been pressed.

Shen He panted heavily, flipping down from mid-air. The Emerald Jade Sword returned to his front in an extremely elegant and graceful manner, circling and dancing as if guarding him or ready for another fight.

His expression was agitated and excited.

His swordsmanship had actually reached minor accomplishment! Amazing!

Shen He looked at the pitch-black Demon Beast Spirit before him, suddenly cupped his hands in salute, then bowed deeply.

“Thank you, Senior, for your guidance.”

The Black Demonic Beast Spirit stared fixedly at Shen He. A glint of awareness seemed to flicker in its scarlet eyes.

It rasped, “You…”

However, the fangs flanking its gaping maw prevented smooth speech, and it had persisted too long. This was the end.

Finally, the Black Demonic Beast Spirit shook its head once more, planting the Black Spirit Sword before Shen He.

The thirty-centimeter short sword had a wish-fulfilling knot dangling from its tail, the ink-green cord long soaked in blood and dried to pure black. “Dong Ling” was engraved on the spine, and the blade was rust-spotted, as if decrepit with age.

Seeing this, Shen He tentatively gripped the hilt.

The instant he did, a deep voice resounded in his mind: “Find him.”

Shen He was puzzled but held the Black Spirit Sword in both hands and earnestly said, “Though I don’t know who Senior seeks, I will carry this sword with me always. For the rest of my life, I will do my utmost to help Senior find the one you wish to see.”

As his words fell, the raging flames on the Black Demonic Beast Spirit slowly extinguished, like a fire burned to its limit. Fine ashes began dissipating from the edges.

Shen He watched quietly until the ashes fully vanished. Only then did he exhale a turbid breath.

“I wonder who this Senior Xu is looking for…”

The ashes did not fall but vanished directly into the air. This space held nothing now but the fierce, flower-like sword qi scars.

Shen He relaxed his spirit slightly, stowed the Dongling Sword, sat cross-legged, and swallowed a Qi Gathering Pill.

A quarter-hour later, he rose again, called to the Azure Flame Leopard, and headed toward the gate previously guarded by the Black Demonic Beast Spirit.

The Azure Flame Leopard seemed to see self-training like this for the first time. Its yellow pupils bulged round, glancing at Shen He, then tilting its head in thought, then… distracted by its own tail.

Shen He pushed open the door and could not help but pause.

Inside was indeed a quiet chamber as Zhang Sizhe had described, but sword scars covered the room, just like those he had made outside with the Black Demonic Beast Spirit.

Several chains dangled from the upper walls, clearly for binding something.

A cabinet stood crooked against the side wall, its doors wide open, with many broken medicine bottles inside.

The floor was littered with shards—evidently, the bottle Zhang Sizhe had traded to Shen He was one of them, and the only one relatively intact.

In a wall corner sat a dark, tattered meditation cushion, as if slashed by a sword. It had burst open, revealing the withered stems of spirit grass for concentration inside. After countless years, they were desiccated and useless.

Large patches of blood had congealed into black spots on the ground, layered one atop another, emanating ominous, resentful, and hateful auras.

In the center-rear position lay a pile of bone ash with black-red aura, surrounded by a few scattered beast bone fragments. Claw marks from desperate grabs scarred the floor.

Shen He understood. When Zhang Sizhe had rushed in, he had seen the beast bones and pocketed over a dozen, along with possibly a drop of essence blood. But pressed for time, Zhang Sizhe could not search thoroughly and had taken what he could before leaving, leaving some scraps.

Shen He carefully probed around the beast bones and bone ash. Inspired, he took out the Dongling Short Sword and slowly sifted through.

Perhaps by fateful guidance, at the bottom of the bone ash, he found a tiny Jade Slip.

Shen He’s eyes lit up. He picked up the Jade Slip and read it.

The Jade Slip was a sect-internal Communication Jade Slip. Due to the long passage of time, its spiritual power had dissipated, leaving the information fragmented.

“…Fond of Spirit Snake, suspected to possess Avian Demon Bloodline, could serve as substitute… Lured with ancient Divine Tree crystal fruit to gain trust. Though old friends for many years, the Great Dao lay ahead—must abandon…”

Shen He finished reading the Communication Jade Slip and stood stunned.

Wait, something seemed off.

Shen He had previously thought Xu Zhen was a Nine Spirits Sect cultivator who suffered backlash from the Nine Spirits Totem, went berserk in the quiet chamber, and died, leaving a humanoid yet demonic Demon Beast Spirit to guard his corpse.

But… judging from the information in this Jade Slip…

Had Cultivator Xu Zhen deceived an old friend of many years to resolve his backlash?

Shen He looked up at the deep, hate-filled sword scars on the surrounding walls and suddenly shivered, a chill creeping up his spine.