Chapter 13: Two Swords of Dragon’s Blood  

The tower ship was ablaze in every direction.  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s Spirit Sword gleamed like a rainbow. With a light whistle from his lips, the eagle-shaped stone carving beside the rockery trembled violently, as if coming to life, spreading its wings and moving.  

The eagle screeched into the sky.  

Zhuang Lingxiu said solemnly, “Take the new disciples and abandon ship—head for the Beacon Tower!”  

The eagle spread its wings angrily, roaring at Zhuang Lingxiu with incomprehensible cries.  

“I know, I know, stop scolding me. Do you think I want this?” Zhuang Lingxiu casually gripped the sharp Spirit Sword in his left hand and flicked it dismissively. The blade sliced his palm, staining it with fierce blood. “Once I’ve beheaded these rat-faced bastards, I’ll go apologize to the Vice Dean myself.”  

“Wen” started shouting again: “Not Wen! Not Wen! Points deducted!”  

The eagle seemed to curse once more before reluctantly spreading its wings and flying toward the Spirit Mustard where the new disciples were. It clamped its beak onto the eaves of the mustard’s pavilion.  

A sudden loss of weight sent several new disciples screaming in shock.  

Just as the giant eagle was about to take flight, the attendant—his waist and abdomen pierced by a sword, covered in blood—staggered against the rockery, coughing up blood as he shouted, “Zhuang, you damned—! We’re screwed! The Attendant Seal of our Enlightenment Academy has been stolen! We can’t abandon ship!”  

If they abandoned ship now, any Nascent Soul cultivator could easily catch up to the Spirit Mustard carrying the new disciples and enter it using the Attendant Seal.  

To a Nascent Soul, Foundation Establishment or Qi Refinement disciples were no different from slaughtering a flock of chicks.  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s eyes flickered, but he ignored the warning and issued a simple command.  

“Go.”  

The new disciples inside the Spirit Mustard were instantly moved to tears by Senior Brother Zhuang’s heroic act of self-sacrifice. They clung to the railings, wailing.  

“Senior Brother Zhuang!”  

“Be careful, Senior Brother!”  

With a piercing screech, the giant eagle spread its wings and flew away, carrying the Spirit Mustard with the new disciples.  

Just as the attendant had predicted, the moment the eagle broke through the shattered Barrier of the tower ship, six Nascent Souls darted toward it like the wind.  

The dying attendant struggled forward to block them, but suddenly, a ferocious crimson flame appeared before his fading eyes.  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s sword, now stained with blood, seemed to ignite under the surge of spiritual energy, a fiery dragon coiling around the blade.  

The black-robed Nascent Souls seemed intent on the new disciples, their murderous intent palpable as they closed in on the eagle in an instant, raising their hands to strike.  

Suddenly, a massive dragon wreathed in scarlet flames materialized out of thin air. Its head tilted back in a deafening roar, twin streams of blazing fire erupting from its eyes as it streaked through the air like a phantom.  

Boom—  

The six black-robed Nascent Souls sensed the killing intent too late. With no time to flee, they barely managed to erect protective Barriers before the fire dragon slammed into them.  

For a moment, silence reigned.  

The thick clouds finally parted, and the bright moonlight poured down.  

Three breaths later, under the silver glow—  

Bang! Bang! Bang!  

The elongated fire dragon tore through the bodies of the six Nascent Souls—despite their cultivation, their Barriers shattered instantly, and their supposedly immortal bodies were consumed by the raging flames.  

Screams shook the heavens!  

The flames seemed to linger in midair.  

The new disciples in the nearby Spirit Mustard gaped in shock, their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.  

A single move…  

Had reduced six Nascent Souls to ashes?!  

Just what kind of monsters were the disciples of Enlightenment Academy?  

The fire dragon coiled its massive body back around Zhuang Lingxiu’s sword.  

Zhuang Lingxiu ran his fingers over the dragon-patterned hilt, blood trickling from the corner of his lips. His jet-black hair silently turned snow-white, yet he merely sighed gently, as if nothing had happened.

This move was fierce indeed, but it came at the cost of one’s life.  

The severely wounded attendant, lying in a pool of blood, weakly raised a hand to give him a thumbs-up and muttered listlessly:  

“Brilliant. I wish I were a woman—I’d be so smitten with you that I’d offer my battered body to you and bear you eight children.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu supported him while feeding him a Spirit pill, replying with gentle affection, “If you truly feel that way, I’ll beg the Gourd Chamber for a male pregnancy pill. Even if Little Medicine Immortal beats me up, I’ll make sure your wish comes true.”  

The attendant: “…”  

With great effort, the attendant gasped, “You… even a dog is more human than you.”  

With that, he clutched his chest, rolled his eyes, and passed out.  

After slaying six Nascent Souls, Zhuang Lingxiu whistled again. The giant eagle circled lazily in the sky before leisurely returning with the Spirit Mustard in its beak.  

The new disciples: “???”  

So Zhuang Lingxiu had been using them as bait, deliberately luring those Nascent Souls into a trap?  

The naive youths exchanged bewildered glances, their lips twitching as they finally understood—  

Why did the other senior brothers refer to this “gentle and refined” senior as “Zhuang the Dog”?  

His actions were truly anything but humane.  

Six Nascent Souls had been slain, but four remained.  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s snow-white hair fluttered in the wind. No longer daring to risk the new disciples, he stroked the dragon pattern on the hilt of his Spirit Sword, his eyes darkening.  

The Dragon blood was only enough for two more strikes…  

If he unleashed another, this body would likely perish.  

***  

The Tower Ship rocked violently.  

Su Han Sheng steadied himself by gripping the windowsill and glanced down at the snow-haired Zhuang Lingxiu below, his brow twitching slightly.  

In his past life, Zhuang Lingxiu had probably repelled the Nascent Souls and protected the disciples by using this life-draining secret technique.  

Chong Jue had been watching coldly from the sidelines, showing no intention of intervening.  

He flicked his prayer beads, his gaze lowered and indifferent.  

Just as Su Han Sheng was about to speak, the carved wooden door of the Spirit Mustard was kicked open with a bang.  

Two heavily cloaked Nascent Souls in black robes, bearing Attendant Seals, stepped inside with icy hostility. Their hooded eyes swept the room, carrying a damp, subterranean stench as if they had crawled out from deep underground.  

The man on the left scanned the room, and when the Magical Artifact at his waist detected something, he rasped in a grating voice, “Kid, hand over the Academy Lifebound Seal, and I’ll let you go.”  

Su Han Sheng tilted his head, faintly sensing that the aura of these two felt eerily familiar.  

As if they had crawled out of the earth?  

Chong Jue, who had been silently observing, slowly raised a hand.  

Just as Su Han Sheng thought he was about to act, those slender fingers merely flicked, righting a small incense burner that had fallen to the ground.  

A wisp of incense smoke, thin yet unbroken, gently coalesced into a long strand that drifted like a rope, barring the screen.  

The two men, oblivious to Chong Jue’s cultivation, had initially dismissed him. But when their cold gazes landed on his compassionate face, their eyes widened in terror as if they had seen a vengeful ghost.  

“You—!”  

The fragile-looking strand of white incense smoke became an insurmountable chasm between them. The once-arrogant pair trembled, their legs shaking too violently to take another step forward.  

One of them even looked ready to drop to his knees in fear.  

Chong Jue said calmly, “Do not cross this line.”  

He didn’t elaborate on the consequences—those six simple words alone sent a violent shudder through them. Their pupils trembled uncontrollably as they staggered back, fleeing like mice before a cat.

Su Han Sheng was puzzled and looked up at Chong Jue.  

“Uncle, aren’t you going to stop them?”  

Yet Chong Jue remained silent, his gaze fixed on the wisp of white mist gently undulating before him.  

Su Han Sheng couldn’t understand. Weren’t the Buddhist cultivators of Mount Sumeru supposed to be compassionate, dedicated to saving all living beings?  

“Two Nascent Soul cultivators are enough to slaughter everyone on this tower ship, leaving no survivors.”  

The crisp sound of prayer beads clinking together was pleasing to the ear. Finally, Chong Jue parted his lips and spoke.  

“Stay here. You’ll be safe.”  

Only then did Su Han Sheng realize the problem.  

Rumors said that the revered master of Mount Sumeru had already reached the realm of unobstructed enlightenment. He should have secluded himself from the mortal world, dwelling eternally on Mount Sumeru, yet he remained in the Three Realms due to an unresolved tribulation.  

Under the laws of the Heavenly Dao, Chong Jue might be unable to interfere in the affairs of the Three Realms.  

Su Han Sheng was bewildered.  

But just days ago, Chong Jue had stopped him from killing and even attempted to purify the “body-snatching ghost”…  

Didn’t that count as meddling in the affairs of the Three Realms?  

Su Han Sheng didn’t quite understand. “Then… what if everyone on the tower ship is slaughtered?”  

Chong Jue pressed his palms together, lowering his gaze slightly. His features were as exquisite as a painting, resembling a compassionate Buddha statue seated upon the clouds.  

Yet what he said was: “Follow the will of Heaven and let the Dao take its natural course.”  

Su Han Sheng: “…”  

A monk from Mount Sumeru wasn’t reciting Buddhist verses but instead preaching Daoist principles?  

Absurd.  

Chong Jue seemed like an Immortal detached from the Three Realms. Even if rivers of blood flowed before him, he would regard it as passing smoke, his expression unmoved.  

Su Han Sheng stared at him for a long time.  

Chong Jue had some understanding of the youth’s temperament. He expected this half-grown child, naive to the ways of the world, to either angrily accuse him of disregarding human lives or mock him with sarcasm about “compassionately saving all living beings.”  

But instead, Su Han Sheng obediently said, “Oh. Alright then.”  

Chong Jue was slightly taken aback.  

Su Han Sheng stood tall like a crane. His youthful features, usually so docile, now bore no trace of obedience. He lowered his gaze, his amber eyes resembling demonic honeyed amber hidden in shadows, and his thin lips parted slightly.  

“Go.”  

As soon as the word left his mouth, a withered branch suddenly slithered out from the fallen pouch beside the table, writhing wildly like a snake.  

Following Su Han Sheng’s command, the withered branch spread like wildfire across the wooden tower ship, taking root throughout the vessel in an instant.  

Su Han Sheng hopped onto the windowsill, his bare foot stretching forward. A branch extended precisely to coil around his ankle, allowing him to step onto its surface.  

Chong Jue abruptly seized his wrist.  

Su Han Sheng turned back.  

Chong Jue frowned slightly and said in a low voice, “You’re only at the Qi Refining stage. You’re no match for them.”  

Even Golden Core stage attendants struggled against Nascent Soul cultivators, often sustaining severe injuries with the slightest misstep—let alone Su Han Sheng.  

Su Han Sheng feared many things: being beaten by his senior brother, Elder Xie tattling on him, the Phoenix Bone acting up…  

But death was not one of them.  

Su Han Sheng often cursed Su Xuan Lin as a hypocrite, yet he knew full well that his own body carried his father’s bloodline, making him just as much of a sanctimonious fraud.  

In his past life, though he claimed he wanted to open the realm gate for Chong Jue, the truth was he merely sought an excuse to end his own life, to escape his rotting existence.  

Human instinct drives them to seek advantage and avoid harm, to cloak themselves in noble justifications and pretend to be righteous.  

The usually eloquent Su Han Sheng, who never missed a chance to dredge up the past, was now uncharacteristically silent. He pried open Chong Jue’s fingers one by one—his own hands icy but slender and strong.  

Still draped in Chong Jue’s snow-white robe, he leaped down with a flutter of fabric, his Lifebound Tree steadying him as he landed soundlessly below.  

As Chong Jue had said—follow the will of Heaven and let the Dao take its natural course.

If the accompanying envoys, students, and Su Han Sheng were to die here today, it would be blamed on the cruelty of the Demon Race, the misfortune of fate, and the ill luck of destiny.

****

Zhuang Lingxiu was drenched in blood, his robes a tangled mix of ink and crimson, exuding a tragic yet striking beauty.

Many of the Golden Core accompanying envoys had boarded the Tower Ship with the intention of merely escorting new students for the sake of gaining merit, treating it as a leisurely autumn outing. But now, they lay battered and unconscious in pools of blood, their fates unknown.

Zhuang Lingxiu propped himself up with his sword, his cold gaze fixed on the two figures approaching slowly from ahead.

In an instant, a flash of cold light shot straight toward his throat.

Zhuang Lingxiu moved with lightning speed, his lean waist bending backward to evade the surge of spiritual energy. His ink-patterned robes fluttered as he landed lightly on a nearby rockery, graceful as a swallow.

A cultivator shrouded in black robes gripped a massive sword, his sinister gaze piercing through the hood as he stared fixedly at Zhuang Lingxiu.

“Accompanying envoy of Enlightenment Academy, state your name.”

Zhuang Lingxiu’s blood-stained robes billowed in the wind. Though disheveled, his bearing remained ethereal, like an Immortal under the moonlight.

The gentle Immortal wiped the blood from the corner of his lips with his fingertip and smiled. “Creatures who shun the light have no right to know my name.”

The phrase “shun the light” was spoken casually, yet it struck a nerve with the two black-robed figures. Gripping their massive swords, they swung down fiercely, their voices icy. “You seek death!”

Zhuang Lingxiu laughed. A sinister crimson glow flickered faintly on the dragon-patterned hilt of his sword.

The same oppressive aura that had reduced six Nascent Souls to ashes in an instant reappeared silently. The two Nascent Souls were startled, then ecstatic.

“The blood of the Sacred Artifact?!”

Zhuang Lingxiu’s pupils shifted, transforming into vertical slits like a dragon’s as he stared intently at the two.

The attacking man swiftly retracted his massive sword and said gravely, “Don’t kill him! Capture him alive. His blood might be the key to opening the gates of Avici Hell!”

“Avici Hell?” Zhuang Lingxiu raised an eyebrow. “No wonder you’re hiding so thoroughly. So you’re not demonic cultivators but the light-shunning Fuli race from Avici Hell.”

This race had been cast into Avici Hell a thousand years ago for betraying the Heavenly Dao, forever barred from returning to the Upper Realm.

No wonder their aura felt so peculiar.

With their origins exposed in just a few words, the two Nascent Souls darkened their expressions. “Dead or alive, the blood of the Sacred Artifact should still be useful—decapitate him and take the corpse.”

Zhuang Lingxiu’s vertical pupils turned icy as he gripped his sword, channeling the last of his Dragon blood to offer his final strike.

The two Nascent Souls moved faster, lunging at him in an attempt to kill him before he could unleash his attack.

The massive sword and halberd sliced through the air, aiming straight for Zhuang Lingxiu’s neck.

“Clang—”

The weapons clashed mid-air, their speed so great that the metallic resonance reverberated like a bell.

Zhuang Lingxiu had already expended his strength in his earlier strike and was severely wounded from battling the two Nascent Souls. Now, on the brink of exhaustion, his Dragon blood had yet to fully activate as the blades descended.

His dragon-like pupils narrowed into thin slits, reflecting the cold glint of steel.

In the next instant, blood would spill.

Suddenly— “Boom—”

At the critical moment, countless gnarled branches erupted from the ground, weaving into a dense spiderweb before Zhuang Lingxiu, blocking the Nascent Souls’ attack!

The sword and halberd struck the branches and were violently repelled.

The two men were stunned, immediately retreating with their weapons.

Their Nascent Soul cultivation couldn’t even sever a single vine?

Zhuang Lingxiu had already resolved himself to die, yet he was startled by the sudden appearance of the withered branches, his pale face flashing with astonishment.

Ghost vine?

Silence enveloped the surroundings. Just as the dragon blood on Zhuang Lingxiu’s sword was about to take form, a figure seemed to materialize out of thin air. Slender fingers clamped onto the sharp, bloodied blade, forcefully wrenching the Spirit Sword from the nearly exhausted Zhuang Lingxiu’s grasp.

Caught off guard by the sudden disarming, Zhuang Lingxiu froze in shock, his body going numb. Instinctively, his hand shot toward the intruder’s throat, his pupils still slitted with cold, murderous intent.

But when his fingers closed around the person’s neck, his astonishment deepened.

“Young Master Su?!”

The Su family’s Lifebound Tree possessed immense power, capable of withstanding a Nascent Soul’s strike. Yet Su Han Sheng, a mere Qi Refining Stage weakling, couldn’t evade the grasp of the severely injured Zhuang Lingxiu. Unfazed, Su Han Sheng simply smiled despite the hand around his throat.

“Senior Brother Zhuang, I’ve come—”

He was about to say “I’ve come to help you,” when Zhuang Lingxiu’s slitted pupils flared with fury. Releasing his grip, Zhuang Lingxiu instead smacked Su Han Sheng’s head with a resounding “thwack!”

“Have you lost your mind?! Why aren’t you staying safely by the World Honored One’s side instead of coming down here to throw your life away?!”

Su Han Sheng: “…”

Zhuang Lingxiu’s disciplinary points must have been completely deducted by now, as the “Wen” character on his forehead ribbon had turned blood-red. He remained silent.

Zhuang Lingxiu’s scolding demeanor bore an uncanny resemblance to Xu Nan Xian’s beatdowns. Su Han Sheng, dazed from the slap, instinctively shivered and stammered, “I-I don’t know, I don’t know…”

Zhuang Lingxiu nearly laughed in exasperation.

The Lifebound Tree enveloped the two in seamless protection, its withered branches writhing like claws as it engaged the two Nascent Souls.

Yet no matter how formidable the tree was, it remained constrained by its master’s Qi Refining Stage cultivation. Within moments, its roots and branches were severed mid-air.

“Tsk—”

Su Han Sheng jerked his head aside as fine blood trails appeared on his cheek.

Only then did Zhuang Lingxiu realize this was the legendary Su family’s Soulbound Spirit.

If the withered tree was injured, its master would inevitably suffer.

Zhuang Lingxiu’s right arm was wounded, his sword hand trembling uncontrollably, yet he stood firm as an unyielding protector.

“Stay here and don’t move,” Zhuang Lingxiu said, drenched in blood, his waist and back marred by gruesome wounds. Kneeling on one knee as if unaffected, he carefully adjusted Su Han Sheng’s plain white robes and murmured, “Don’t be afraid. Only two Nascent Souls remain. I’ll handle them quickly.”

Su Han Sheng only knew that Zhuang Lingxiu had just expended his life force to slay six opponents. Hearing this, he clapped excitedly.

“Senior Brother Zhuang killed two more?”

“No,” Zhuang Lingxiu said, puzzled. “Didn’t the World Honored One intervene? I saw two people descend from the upper deck, terrified out of their wits. They leaped off the Tower Ship without a word.”

Su Han Sheng: “???”

That cowardly?

Chong Jue had not yet fallen into Avici Hell—currently, he remained the compassionate World Honored One of Mount Sumeru. Why would two Nascent Souls flee in terror after merely glimpsing him?