Wenren Sheng’s heart was constricted by the spiritual power drawn into threads, sending sharp pains like knife cuts through it.
His body burned fiercely, his mind a chaotic mess, completely unaware that his wolf ears and wolf tail had already revealed themselves.
In his hazy consciousness, he only felt someone press the back of a cool hand against his cheek.
Wenren Sheng released his tail and instinctively grabbed that hand, pulling it into his arms to cling to that bit of coolness.
The person touching him clearly paused for a moment before hurriedly withdrawing their hand. They stuffed Wenren Sheng’s tail back into his arms and left something beside him with a “clang.”
Afterward, Wenren Sheng fell into a deep slumber.
However, his body was no longer as feverish. A faint coolness enveloped him, making him feel as if he were sleeping on soft clouds. The pain in his heart soon vanished as well.
His expression relaxed, his breathing steadied considerably, and he gradually drifted into peaceful sleep.
On the other side.
After leaving Color Kill beside Wenren Sheng to stand guard, He Mu leaped down from the rooftop alone and summoned the “World’s Number One Divine Sword” he had thrown out earlier.
Chen Lian, who had consumed the Heavenly Spiritual Root, quickly regained his freedom. His speed was now more than ten times faster than before. Almost the instant the wooden sword returned to He Mu’s hand, Chen Lian’s palm strike was already right in front of him.
He Mu tilted his head to dodge but did not counterattack. Instead, he circled the Sword Sect’s training ground, engaging in a drawn-out evasion.
Under normal circumstances, there would be no need for such hassle. Even with a mere tree branch, He Mu could pierce straight through Chen Lian.
But now, Chen Lian had swallowed part of the Heavenly Spiritual Root, and his body had temporarily been assimilated by it. Judging from how uncomfortable Wenren Sheng had looked earlier, any damage to the Heavenly Spiritual Root would likely sync back to him.
The kid’s body was far too delicate. A little pain would probably make him cry, with tears pattering down nonstop.
He Mu was not malicious enough yet to deliberately make a child cry.
“Chen Lian.” He Mu withdrew his thoughts and looked at the man before him, his voice cold. “Your organs and meridians are mostly ruined. Struggling futilely is pointless. Answer my questions properly now, and you can at least die with some value.”
Having swallowed the Heavenly Spiritual Root, Chen Lian had already lost most of his divine sense. Even his pupils were rolled back in white. He lashed out wildly with disordered strikes while muttering nonstop about “Heavenly Spiritual Root,” “die,” and “don’t.” It looked like half his soul was already gone.
In this state, further questioning was pointless.
He Mu tsked darkly. “Fine… The death notice has been given. You trash can’t escape it.”
As he resolved Chen Lian’s chaotic assaults, he pondered the timing for the Heavenly Spiritual Root’s assimilation to end, preparing a decisive strike.
Their fight was no small affair. Especially after He Mu released his divine graven, it even stirred the heavens. Gales poured in fiercely, and the originally bright hall’s candle flames suddenly extinguished.
The other elders in the central hall for discussions were quickly alerted.
A group of them hurried over in a panic and shoved open the central hall’s doors.
Upon seeing Chen Lian and He Mu locked in a earth-shaking battle, several froze at the doorway, not daring to advance.
One of them, the White-Whiskered Elder, flicked his sleeve and immediately slapped the little disciple beside him, scolding in a low voice:
“Didn’t I tell you to lock the door properly? How did you let him out?!”
The disciple stammered, “I-I don’t know either?? Master, Senior Brother Chen seems off. I remember he’s got a mixed spirit root. How could he go toe-to-toe with Cangyu… pfft, with the Mountain God?”
“Tsk.” Disgust crossed the White-Whiskered Elder’s face. “You really think that waste has any prospects? Just like his dad—greedy for the Heavenly Spiritual Root, chasing a moment’s thrill.”
The fake “Wu Di” from earlier that day also emerged. His shoulder wound was still wrapped in thick white cloth. His appearance was unchanged, but he no longer had that explosive temper from before.
He pulled the White-Whiskered Elder and the disciple aside and said leisurely, “What’s the rush? Isn’t this just fine?”
The White-Whiskered Elder rolled his eyes. “Fine how?”
The fake “Wu Di” stroked his beard, his tone even. “Chen Lian provoked the Mountain God this time. He’s got a death wish. We don’t need to lift a finger.”
“I’ve temporarily isolated his five senses for now. In a bit, you and I can recover the other half of the Heavenly Spiritual Root… Wouldn’t that be reaping the benefits?”
The White-Whiskered Elder hmphed. “Where’s the other half of the Heavenly Spiritual Root now?”
The fake “Wu Di” didn’t answer.
He narrowed his eyes and looked past the training ground toward Wenren Sheng on the distant rooftop.
And behind Wenren Sheng, a massive expanse of black clouds pressed over the upturned eaves, dyeing the sky an endless ink black.
Whistling winds filled the pavilions and towers, as if a torrential downpour could break at any moment.
Plip.
A raindrop fell onto Wenren Sheng’s cheek, sliding slowly along its contour to the edge of his earlobe.
“Woof—”
A faint dog bark sounded by his ear, causing his lashes to tremble.
His consciousness gradually returned from sleep, and the fuzzy sounds by his ear grew clearer, from distant to near.
Wenren Sheng felt like he had a long, beautiful dream. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, realizing he had slept atop the roof tiles.
“Woof!”
That bark entered his ears again. Wenren Sheng looked down to see the Guard Dog under the eaves wagging its tail at him.
It was the one he had shared his bun with. It was the one that had woken him.
Wenren Sheng waved happily at the dog and shouted loudly, “Thanks for waking me!”
Just as his words fell, a massive boom rang out. A tail of flying dust erupted violently beside the dog.
Then, in Wenren Sheng’s line of sight, a humanoid figure was brutally smashed into the wall!
Wenren Sheng’s eyes widened as he hurriedly peered over.
But the fog was too thick. Even with his eyesight, he could only make out a blurry silhouette.
Just as he narrowed his eyes to see more clearly, a flash of vivid red swept past, instantly drawing away his gaze.
Following that red hue, he quickly spotted the red cloak at the center of the training ground.
“Mountain God!” Wenren Sheng was overjoyed and waved vigorously at He Mu. “I’m here!”
But He Mu seemed not to hear him. He turned his wrist, and the “World’s Number One Divine Sword” arced from behind him, thrusting straight into the center of the dust cloud.
The wooden sword soon dragged the figure inside out and flung it before He Mu.
Wenren Sheng focused and saw it was Chen Lian, beaten black and blue.
Once the Heavenly Spiritual Root’s assimilation period ended, He Mu showed no mercy. His fists struck flesh solidly, beating him unconscious.
Wenren Sheng’s eyes lit up. He sprawled at the roof’s edge, watching the wooden sword he had personally carved wielded with such finesse by the Mountain God. He couldn’t help raising his hands in excited cheers.
“World’s Number One Divine Sword! Long live!”
He had made it himself!
But before he could rejoice for long, Wenren Sheng noticed a large group of cultivators gathered around He Mu. Nearly every one held a sword, as if ready to charge and fight him to the death at any moment.
Not good—the Mountain God was surrounded!
Wenren Sheng hurriedly schooled his excitement. He crawled to the eaves and flipped over to jump down, only to be repelled by an invisible force. He yelped “Ouch!” and landed butt-first.
“So painful!” Wenren Sheng pouted and muttered, “What was that…”
At his words, Color Kill, which had been quietly hovering, finally floated up and drifted lazily into Wenren Sheng’s view.
Wenren Sheng then noticed that the spiritual power threads at Color Kill’s guard had somehow thickened several times over, wrapping around him completely like a cocoon.
This was He Mu’s order before leaving: for Color Kill to deploy a barrier and protect Wenren Sheng well.
Wenren Sheng scrambled up and grabbed Color Kill’s hilt.
“Can you let me out?” he pleaded. “There are so many of them. I need to go help the Mountain God.”
Color Kill did not deactivate the barrier, silently refusing.
Wenren Sheng panicked instantly.
Oh no, oh no—this sword suddenly wouldn’t listen!
What to do? Coax it?
He hurriedly rummaged through his bundle and pulled out a pile of treasures, stacking them one by one before Color Kill.
“Let me out, and these are all yours.” He blinked his eyes coquettishly. “If it’s not enough, I’ll find more treasures for you after I get out. Please?”
Color Kill said nothing.
Wenren Sheng hadn’t expected to empty his entire worldly possessions, yet the sword still wouldn’t budge.
He looked down. He Mu was stepping on Chen Lian’s head, using three fingers to tug the threads and extract the spirit root from his back.
The surrounding ambushers pressed in closer, but He Mu suddenly seemed to have lost all five senses, utterly unmoved.
If this went on, what if the Mountain God got beaten to death?!
Wenren Sheng clutched his face in anxiety and spun in circles on the spot.
Just then, two figures in blue-and-white robes drifted down leisurely onto the rooftop.
Wenren Sheng halted and hugged Color Kill as he looked up. They were two ugly old men.
He recognized one as “Wu Di,” but a fake.
He had never seen the other white-whiskered old man before, but this one had his arms crossed and glared at him furiously, as if Wenren Sheng had some deep grudge against him.
“Heavenly Spiritual Root—it’s this kid?” The white-whiskered old man snorted with laughter. “Wu Di, you waste. Can’t handle one kid in three years?”
The fake “Wu Di” smiled. “Don’t put it that way. Fragrant Ze Mountain has the Mountain God’s barrier. As long as this little demon hides up there, we’re helpless against him.”
“But…” He paused meaningfully. “Things are different now.”
Wenren Sheng’s sense of smell was keen, and he immediately realized these two old men were no good.
His pupils narrowed to slits as he gripped Color Kill’s hilt tightly, eyeing them warily.
“Don’t come any closer.” Wenren Sheng threatened. “This sword in my hand belongs to the Mountain God.”
The white-whiskered old man snorted again. “Your teeth aren’t even grown in yet. What sword could you use?”
Wenren Sheng didn’t understand the sarcasm in the guy’s words. He licked the tip of his sharp fang to himself.
They were clearly grown in.
Not only grown, but sharp enough to protect himself.
The fake “Wu Di” smiled with narrowed eyes and waved his hand. “It’s a sword used by an ascension cultivator, after all. If the Mountain God notices here in a bit, we won’t be his match.”
Wenren Sheng huffed lightly. “Good that you know.”
“But well…”
The fake “Wu Di”‘s smile deepened, and he changed tack.
“While he was deep in battle just now, I temporarily blocked his five senses. In this time, two Mahayana Realm experts are more than enough to deal with you.”
With that, the two summoned their Amber Gold Swords in unison, swiftly assumed sword stances, and charged straight at Wenren Sheng.
“As long as we take your Heavenly Spiritual Root,” the fake “Wu Di” shouted, “and fuse with Senior Brother Wu Di, this spirit root will remain perfectly intact in the Sword Sect!”
“Why waste words on a kid like him!”
The White-Whiskered Elder bellowed, and his sword blade went “clang” as it hacked directly onto the barrier.
!!
Wenren Sheng immediately felt the air around him tremble.
His eyes widened as he retreated half a step. The hand holding the sword began shaking uncontrollably again.
Though the barrier didn’t shatter, the two sword cultivators’ attacks were swift and relentless. With Color Kill no longer under He Mu’s command, Wenren Sheng feared it couldn’t hold out for long.
Which meant…
He had to fight alone.
The Mountain God had protected him before, but now the sword was in his hands. No one to rely on.
Wenren Sheng pressed his lips together, his gaze involuntarily flicking toward the Mountain God again.
The three threads in He Mu’s hand had already gathered powerful spiritual power, drawing most of the spirit root from Chen Lian’s body into his palm.
The Mountain God was fulfilling his promise, retrieving the lost spirit root for him.
So he had to try hard too, and survive properly.
With that resolve, the fear in Wenren Sheng’s heart mostly faded. His hand on the sword finally stopped trembling.
He glanced at Color Kill in his hand and said earnestly, “I know the Mountain God ordered you to protect me, but I don’t want to cower here uselessly, doing nothing.”
“I want to give it a try.”
Color Kill seemed moved by his words and vibrated fiercely. The barrier slowly developed a crack.
The White-Whiskered Elder thought his attacks were working and swung even harder. The iron clanged dully against the barrier, the noise harsh enough to hurt the ears.
But Wenren Sheng had no time for fear now.
He gripped Color Kill tightly and said in a childish voice, softly:
“A great hero would never fear death or cling to life.”
He had read many stories of lone heroes. Each hero would swing the sword for the justice in their heart, using killing to stop killing. Even if their actions weren’t recognized by everyone, they would still strike without hesitation.
He could not fear killing.
Wenren Sheng closed his eyes.
Just like the Mountain God had taught him.
Once he held a sword in his hand, he was determined not to retreat any further.
In that instant of enlightenment, his mood became calm instead.
The flow of true qi in his body became incomparably clear. It was as if his soul had grown a third eye—Wenren Sheng could even sense the position of every strand of “qi” in his meridians.
Peaceful, undisturbed, still waters run deep.
For a fleeting moment, all five senses fell silent. In his ears, he heard only the clamor and joy of the newborn spiritual flow, nothing else.
This was his own power.
Wenren Sheng opened his eyes again.
He stared fixedly at the two men before him and slowly exhaled a breath of cold air.
“I won’t hand my spirit root over to you.”
He said, word by word.
Veins bulged once more at the white-bearded elder’s temple. With an angry roar, he simply used his sword like a chopping blade. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he raised it high overhead.
Wenren Sheng met his gaze. His lips parted slightly as he softly uttered a single word:
“Withdraw.”
The moment the word fell, the threads forming that “cocoon” instantly retracted to Color Kill’s crossguard. The unbreakable barrier collapsed in an instant at Wenren Sheng’s mere thought.
The white-beard’s motion happened to pause at the raised-sword phase. Seeing the barrier vanish, he grew even more excited and chopped downward.
However, just as the blade edge was about to reach Wenren Sheng’s hair, a burst of light suddenly erupted from Color Kill.
Wenren Sheng took a step forward and positioned Color Kill half an inch behind him, gathering all his intent on a single point—
Once all the spiritual power had amassed to the verge of explosion, he unleashed a full-powered sword qi with a swing!
The white-bearded old man didn’t even have time to register his shock before his entire body was sliced in half at the waist by the sword qi’s radiant glow. With a splurt, blood mist sprayed everywhere.
A sword cultivator at the Mahayana Realm had actually met his end under the sword of a mere child!
Success!
The sword qi’s glow nearly illuminated half the sky. Its power was so immense that it even blew Wenren Sheng himself back several li.
In the instant the sword qi descended, every ounce of strength drained from Wenren Sheng’s body. He tumbled backward two full rolls and plummeted straight off the eaves.
Success… but he was going to die from the fall!
Wenren Sheng didn’t even have the strength left to grasp at the air. He released his grip on Color Kill and gazed up at the pitch-black sky, his hand waving feebly.
But at a time like this, even the strongest will to survive was futile. Wenren Sheng’s vision gradually blurred beyond his control.
“Save…”
He clenched his teeth and said, his voice like a silken thread.
“Me.”
How high was this drop?
Would he shatter his bones? That would hurt like hell.
He should have hugged his head before falling…
No, he should have… uh…
…
Just as Wenren Sheng’s consciousness grew muddled and he was on the verge of blacking out, he vaguely sensed himself landing in an embrace.
This embrace wasn’t particularly comfortable. It reeked of blood, and his cheek was jabbed by something cold and hard—likely armor plating. It felt like lying on a coffin board.
Faintly, he could hear a sigh-tinged voice by his ear:
“Color Kill’s barrier couldn’t be broken even by a Daluo Golden Immortal, so how did you withdraw it yourself…”
“Sigh, never mind. Leave the rest to me.”
“Sleep well, Shengsheng.”
“…”
It seemed to be the Mountain God speaking.
Though it wasn’t comfortable, Wenren Sheng inexplicably felt at ease.
His tense body relaxed in an instant, as if he had finally found a place to rest.
Wenren Sheng turned sideways and curled himself into a small ball, snuggling tightly into the man’s embrace.
Even in his coma, he didn’t forget the one thing weighing on his heart.
“I must…”
He murmured dreamily, his voice faint,
“Become… family… with the Mountain God…”
