Chapter Thirty: The Hunt

A dragon’s head with a human face, its belly thunders when struck.

It stands upon the earth, crowned by thirty-three layers of thunderclouds, suppressing the Dragon City’s celestial realm. From within those clouds, a lightning dragon descends, transforming in its grasp into a long spear.

“It’s the God of Thunder! The evil aura of the Ghost Mother has drawn forth this deity—damn it!” The azure dragon leapt and twisted, accompanied by a surging sword qi.

The God of Thunder was a spirit born from the Thunder Marsh, formed from the very essence of nature, gestating a divine consciousness from the sun and moon’s energies. It takes a million years for a single thunder god to be born.

The Ghost Mother, under the spear of the thunder god, darted frantically. Her cultivation was simply too weak to withstand such power.

At that moment, a blinding sword light surged forth beside the World Tree. At first it was barely the size of a palm, but in the span of a breath, it spanned thirty thousand miles southeast, swelling until it bridged the thunderclouds above and the primordial earth below—a single sword piercing heaven and earth.

The sword light crashed down, forcing the thunder god to retreat.

Then, a sinister, shadowy hand layered through space, folding ten thousand miles of land into a single doorway, and with a sweep, snatched the Ghost Mother from right beneath the thunder god’s gaze.

Deprived of its target, the thunder god strode step by step into the thirty-three layers of thunderclouds.

Xu Zhong shuddered.

“It’s the Old Mother of Hu River—she’s become so powerful,” the azure dragon recognized the hand behind the scene, sighing with emotion.

“Of course. I’ve been away from Dragon City’s celestial realm for two thousand five hundred years; inside, twelve thousand five hundred years have passed. With so much time, it’s no wonder she’s grown so strong.”

Time flowed at a ratio of five to one. The passage of time within this realm differed from the outside.

“But what does she want with the Ghost Mother?” Xu Zhong wondered silently.

“Not good—she must intend to open the master’s hidden treasure!” The azure dragon reconsidered. “This human is still too weak. I need to find someone else.”

He thought of Jiang Xuanyi.

Although Xu Zhong could open the treasure left by Zhou Jing, he was far too weak. The closer they drew to the World Tree, the more powerful the beings they encountered—beings so fearsome they could kill Xu Zhong with a mere breath, without lifting a finger.

He decided to seek out Jiang Xuanyi and join forces to approach the World Tree together.

The azure dragon slowed its pace.

Before long, a massive green mountain suddenly appeared ahead.

Atop the mountain sat an emaciated old Daoist in golden robes, holding a floating censer. His white robe, hair, and beard gave him the look of a withered sage of indeterminate age; all the vitality had drained from his flesh, leaving only a thin layer of skin stretched over bone. Xu Zhong noticed a sword scar upon his skin.

The scar had split the skin, causing his essence to leak away rapidly. Judging by the sword intent, it was the work of Jiang Xuanyi.

The old Daoist suddenly opened his eyes, gazing skyward, and a giant palm, a hundred feet wide, reached out toward Xu Zhong.

“Young one, let me borrow your flesh and blood for a while.”

A chilling sensation flooded Xu Zhong’s skull. His blood and vital essence stirred, as if about to leave his body, but the five thunder deities within him awoke and suppressed the unrest.

“Qingyang Elder, it’s been fifteen thousand years, and you’re still alive?” The azure dragon’s voice rumbled.

With that, the wooden sword took on the posture of splitting heaven and earth, cleaving through the void at the Qingyang Elder.

“The Yuanyang Sword!” The Qingyang Elder raised an eyebrow. “With your pure yang energy, it’s just what I need for my soul-rebirth ritual.”

The green mountain beneath him rumbled, runes flickering all over its surface until the entire peak transformed into a colossal talisman.

“Behold my Golden Palace Three Yang Secret!”

The so-called Three Yangs referred to the three vital fires—essence, energy, and spirit—within the human body. Some cultivators had refined these three flames into the true fire of Samadhi.

The Golden Palace Three Yang Secret expanded, vast as a great bell, engulfing Xu Zhong and the azure dragon within.

“I’ll refine you both into elixirs!” he cackled, activating the talisman.

In an instant, Samadhi fire surged within the great bell, intent on smelting man and sword into a pill.

Yet the next moment, the wooden sword erupted with immense power. Sword qi arced like a rainbow, shattering the giant bell to pieces.

“Qingyang Elder, wounded by the spear and still you dare act?” The azure dragon emerged from beneath the bell. “You’re old and muddle-headed—it’s time to move on!”

The wooden sword, embodiment of the azure dragon, shuddered once, then a sword light split the Qingyang Elder in two.

Vital energy gushed from the elder’s body, all absorbed by the dragon, who spat a mouthful of Samadhi fire, burning the remains into a pill and tossing it to Xu Zhong.

Xu Zhong swallowed hard, feeling a surge of spiritual energy from the pill. Once ingested, the energy erupted within him—not boosting his cultivation, but strengthening his soul. His spirit grew ever denser, until his human soul opened its eyes.

“Pity that the Qingyang Elder lived too long. His energy had lost its purity; to survive, he had to continually dilute it. Like lamp oil mixed with water—it still burns, but it’s not the same.”

Xu Zhong understood now. Recalling Situ Nan’s words, he realized what Situ Nan meant when he said Xu Zhong was the only person he’d seen in fifteen hundred years.

Those trapped in Dragon City’s celestial realm, to survive, had long since become neither truly human nor ghost.

Then he thought, “Perhaps he was simply too weak to venture out.”

The Qingyang Elder was not an exception. These ancient cultivators, whenever they saw fresh flesh, could not help but strike, even if it was as meager as a mosquito’s leg to them.

A towering ancient tree awakened. Its entire body was blackened, the scars of tribulation lightning. Its flickering vitality was like a candle in the wind, ready to be snuffed out at any moment.

The tree blocked the path. Its massive form, with drooping branches hundreds of miles long, crackled with alternating thunder and fire, each swing threatening to draw down celestial lightning.

“Even a grain of rice dares to shine!” roared the sword spirit, circling to slice the tree demon in two.

“The thunderfire hollowed it out long ago—it’s already dead,” the azure dragon sighed.

Crack—crack—

As he lamented, a beam of spiritual light suddenly appeared. From the sky fell a jade scepter, ever-changing in size.

At this moment it was enormous, crashing upon the azure dragon’s head and scattering its spiritual essence, forcing it back into sword form.

Re-forming its spiritual light would take time—enough for Lord Anran to refine Xu Zhong into a great blood pill. But Xu Zhong was too thin; better to fatten him up before feasting.

The jade scepter flew back to his hand. Lord Anran prepared to fatten Xu Zhong and perhaps hold a banquet before consuming him.

Just then, he saw Xu Zhong produce a gourd from his waist.

Moments later, a tidal wave of sword qi appeared above his head—a starry sea, now cascading down, heaven collapsing.

Struck by the sword qi, Lord Anran’s body became like a sieve, fluttering gently to the ground.

“The Yuanyang Sword was right—you’ve mixed in far too much water,” Xu Zhong said, closing the gourd.

He walked to Lord Anran’s side and picked up the jade scepter.

This lord should have been formidable, yet was so frail he could be slain by Xu Zhong. Time, truly, was a thing to sigh over.

Xu Zhong quickly refined the jade scepter. He found it could disperse a person’s soul; a single blow could shatter the soul of those without a fully formed spirit, and even those with a true soul would be dispersed, just as had happened to the azure dragon earlier.

The only drawback was the long wind-up, making it suitable for ambush.

Xu Zhong stowed it in his storage pouch, then waited for the wooden sword to recover.

The azure dragon reappeared, furious.

But with Lord Anran already dead at Xu Zhong’s hand, there was nowhere for his anger to go.

They continued on.

The closer they drew to the World Tree, the stronger were the beings they encountered. At first, the Yuanyang Sword could dispatch them in a single strike; gradually, it needed two, then three, and eventually, ever more sophisticated swordplay.

At last, they encountered a white tiger demon with hanging eyes, and the sword was completely defeated, forced to flee with Xu Zhong.

“Trying to run?” The tiger demon transformed, towering over a thousand feet, maw agape. The Yuanyang Sword hadn’t even cleared its jaws before being swallowed.

Xu Zhong released the sword qi from the gourd.

Countless sword energies were swallowed by the tiger, except for the Geng Metal Qi, which swept by and severed its tongue.

Blood gushed forth, but another tongue quickly regrew.

Just then, a sword light appeared, slanting down from beyond the heavens, piercing the tiger demon’s skull.

The tiger’s head split in two, its massive body collapsing.

Xu Zhong saw, in the spot between its brows, its soul was also severed by the sword qi—utterly annihilated.

The Yuanyang Sword carried Xu Zhong away.

The sword light drifted back into Jiang Xuanyi’s hand.

Upon closer inspection, Xu Zhong realized it was not a sword, but a saber.

To wield sword techniques with a saber and channel sword qi—how odd.

Jiang Xuanyi approached the fallen tiger, examining it closely.

After a while, he frowned, as if having discovered something.

“Have you noticed?” asked the azure dragon.

“Yes,” Jiang Xuanyi nodded. “Their external realms have all vanished.”

Only now did Xu Zhong come to his senses. Anyone who could survive ten thousand years in Dragon City’s celestial realm was no ordinary being.

Such longevity implied a high level of cultivation. Only cultivators of the External Realm could live so long.

But these External Realm cultivators were dead—truly dead, even their undying spiritual light extinguished.

Normally, when an External Realm cultivator dies, their undying light reconstitutes their soul and flesh in the external realm, reclaiming their path.

“There is a land of purity under the World Tree within Dragon City’s celestial realm,” the azure dragon spoke, whiskers trembling.

“But this is Dragon City’s celestial realm—what pure land could exist here?” Jiang Xuanyi sneered. “The thirty-three layers of thunderclouds have destroyed the entire inner world; all things dwell in a state of ruin.”

“The pure land you speak of suggests only one possibility.”

Xu Zhong, too, realized what that meant.

Beneath the World Tree, someone was hunting these External Realm cultivators—a hunt of the external realms themselves.

“Their stolen external realms forged a pure land, yet they perished outside of it.”

Xu Zhong’s heart trembled.