Chapter 133: The man who defies space

The sliced corpse of the demonic cultivator lay brutally down the middle, dark blood spreading slowly across the shattered stone tiles.

The pulped organs and shredded flesh were scattered across the floor, while the thick, toxic black demonic qi that had choked the main hall a moment prior slowly vanished into nothingness.

Then, a metallic echo resonated from high above. Everyone instinctively looked up.

And standing atop a ruined stone pillar near the roof, there was an old man. His long, white hair swayed down his back like an elegant waterfall, and a pristine white beard reached his chest.

He wore white robes which are held together by a blue sash at his waist. In his hand, there was a long sword, its blade still partially sheathed in a dark wooden scabbard.

The old man slowly drew the weapon a fraction of an inch further.

A thin streak of silver light flashed across the upper rafters. The instant the sword was sheathed, the surrounding space was shuddered, rippling like distorted water.

Cang Ming’s eyes widened in recognising the old man. "Master?"

The old man stepped forward into empty space. He simply took a casual step downward.

With every footfall on empty air, the spatial ripples appeared under his boots. He descended through the void as if walking down on an invisible flight of stairs cut into the fabric of reality.

"Greetings, Master!" Chi Leiyang immediately bowed his head in respect.

Cang Ming bowed deeply at his side. "Greetings, Master."

"Honor to see you, senior," Xue Hongzhao stepped forward as well, clasping his hands.

The old man touched down silently on the blood-pooled stone floor. With a gentle flick of his thumb, his sword returned to its scabbard.

Lin Yuan stood off to the side, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. ’Who the hell is this old guy?’

He stared toward Cang Ming in confusion, who caught his bewildered look.

"This is the honourable leader of the Qinglin Continent Detective Faction," Cang Ming whispered in a low tone. "Mu Yue Cang Xuanyin."

"The leader?" Lin Yuan flabbergasted, taking a deliberate step backward.

Cang Ming nodded calmly, keeping his gaze locked on his master. "The honoured leader cultivation stands at Upper Stage in the Divine Beast Realm."

’Divine Beast Realm - Upper Stage cultivator?’ Lin Yuan thought, his chest tightened slightly. That was an existence far beyond anything his current cultivation could fathom.

"His core beast," Cang Ming continued, "is the legendary Dark QiLin."

Lin Yuan remained silent, nodding his head.

"Haha," Cang Ming said, explaining more about his leader proudly. "Master is recognized as one of the greatest spatial cultivators across the Qinglin Continent."

He pointed toward the sheath resting at the old man’s hip. "That weapon is the Heaven Severing Saber."

Lin Yuan stared intently at the unsheathed hilt.

"That sword is also one of the great swords and it has power to manipulate spatial laws of dao," Cang Ming explained, without blinking his eyes. "Master can slice spatial passages, and teleport across vast distances instantaneously, and rewrite the geography of a battleground at will."

’So that instantaneous, spatial slash that killed the demonic cultivator earlier... was him,’ Lin Yuan silently swallowed a breath. ’But why did such a powerful man come on time here?’

Before Lin Yuan could dwell on it further, Cang Xuanyin turned his gaze toward the scattered remains of the demonic cultivator. His expression twitched with pain and agony.

"Xue Jianhong..."

The atmospheric pressure in the room changed. The weight of his solemnity made it hard to breathe.

Every eye turned toward the fallen swordsman lying still near the pillars. Xue Hongzhao clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, Chi Leiyang lowered his head in silent sorrow, and Cang Ming’s eyes became red.

Cang Xuanyin slowly closed his eyes, his fingers tightening around the hilt of the blade. When he opened his eyes, his voice boomed through the silence across the hall.

"Cang Ming!"

"Yes, Master!"

"Announce an immediate investigation about that demonic cultivator’s background," Cang Xuanyin commanded, waving his hands. "Thanks to the heavenly gods, the receptionist said about the things that happened here, and my instincts lingered in my heart to check the situation here!"

Cang Ming nodded, bowing calmly.

"I want every single detail," Cang Xuanyin continued, his eyes burning with lethal intent. "Where he originated, where he traveled, every contact he made, who supplied his resources, and who taught him that forbidden aperture-detonation technique."

He paused, his voice changing into a whisper. "That bastard may have been a stray rogue cultivator... or he may be a pawn sent by a demonic cult lurking in the dark."

"Understood master!" Cang Ming bowed his head, a faint tear crawled from his eyes before he rubbed his eyes.

"Take those who witnessed the cultivator before the sect master incinerated him into rot," Cang Xuanyin said, turning toward Xue Hongzhao. "We need a record of his appearance, his essence’ nature, his combat techniques, and his dao."

Xue Hongzhao nodded somberly. "My sect will fully cooperate with your investigation, senior brother."

"And clean up this dog-shit rot immediately," Cang Xuanyin sneered, turning his icy gaze toward the standing guards.

The guards jolted to attention, trembling under his gaze. "Yes, master!"

"Remove every piece of that bastard’s flesh from this hall," Cang Xuanyin demanded, a pathetic click of his tongue lingering in the hall. "I will not have my disciples standing in the filthy blood of a bastard who murdered one of my disciples."

The guards moved frantically, gathering the severed flesh.

Cang Xuanyin walked slowly toward Xue Jianhong’s body, stopping right beside the fallen swordsman. For a few seconds, he remained silent. Then, he raised his right hand.

The space warped as the severed head of Xue Jianhong hovered from the stone floor and vanished, reappearing right beside his torso.

Cang Xuanyin knelt down gently. The silver spatial energy emanated from his palms, lifting Xue Jianhong’s body, carefully aligning the severed neck back with the torso.

The aura surrounding the old man withered away, replaced by sorrow.

"My dearest disciple..." Cang Xuanyin whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "Forgive this old master for arriving too late."

He gently placed his fingertips onto Xue Jianhong’s forehead.

"I swear upon the heavens and the earth..." Cang Xuanyin beamed, his eyes rumbling with intense rage, "I will slaughter every hand who pulled strings from behind."

"They shall be dragged out from the abyss and judged before the heavens brutally," He bowed his head low. "Rest under the eternal heavens, Jianhong. May your soul cross the underworld without fear. Your master will take revenge for you."

A calm silence followed his prayer.

Lin Yuan watched quietly from a distance. He slowly lowered his head and bowed out of respect for a fallen warrior.

Lin Yuan turned and began walking toward the medical pavilion to tend to his internal injuries. He took a few steps before halting near the samurai sword Wànshī.

Lin Yuan stared at the weapon, his eyes narrowing in thought. He turned back around to face the sect master.

"Sect Master..."

Xue Hongzhao looked at him, his eyes still burning with grief.

Lin Yuan pointed at the black blade. "May I take that sword?"

Xue Hongzhao stared at Lin Yuan in disbelief, his expression twisting into fury. "You’re asking to take the weapon that butchered my friend?!"

Lin Yuan looked at him intensely, unflinching.

"I know what this sword did. I know the blood on it." He darted his eyes toward Wànshī. "But it’s a powerful weapon. Leaving a great sword like that to rust on the floor is a waste."

Xue Hongzhao narrowed his eyes frantically.

"I promise, sect master! I will sever the heads of whatever organisation or cult behind this!" Lin Yuan continued, his voice calm and pale. "Besides, I know a bit about swordsmanship. Let me wield it."

Before Xue Hongzhao yelled at him, Cang Xuanyin asked, his voice was calm. "Are you truly worthy of carrying it, brat?"

Lin Yuan turned his head toward the old spatial master, their eyes met in silence.

"You’ll find out in the future, old man," A small, confident smirk lingered in the corner of Lin Yuan’s lips.

Xue Hongzhao’s face twitched. "Lin Yuan! Show some damn respect to—"

Cang Xuanyin raised a hand, stopping Xue Hongzhao. "It’s fine, sect master..."

The old man looked at Lin Yuan for a moment before a faint smile appeared on his face.

"Haha.. he is arrogant.."

Lin Yuan raised an eyebrow.

"But he isn’t malicious," Cang Xuanyin nodded calmly, staring down at Wànshī. "Perhaps one day... that blade will explore what kind of swordsman he truly is."

"You can have it brat!" He waved his hand in approval.

Lin Yuan’s eyes flared up.

"However," Cang Xuanyin continued, "let my detective disciples inspect it first. Every trace of the demonic cultivator’s qi and essence marks must be cleansed from the blade."

"We will examine and purge the demonic essence immediately, master," Cang Ming said, walking toward the blade.

Cang Xuanyin turned away to tend to his disciple’s body. "Once it is cleansed... it belongs to you."

"Understood!" Lin Yuan bowed, and walked out.

****

A few hours passed in the medical pavilion.

Lin Yuan sat cross-legged on a stone mat inside the medical pavilion while the sect’s healers looked after his injuries and exhausted aperture. His meridians still throbbed with an ache from the intense battle, and the room was filled with the stench of crushed medicinal herbs and cleansing incense.

Lin Yuan slowly opened his eyes as the wooden door slid open.

Cang Ming walked in, his expression still in grief. In his hands, he carried a sheathed weapon.

He walked over to Lin Yuan’s side in silence. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Here!" Cang Ming placed the black great sword down on the mat beside Lin Yuan.

Lin Yuan looked down at the dark scabbard. Cang Ming kept his hand resting on the hilt for a second longer, his voice low as whisper.

"Xue Jianhong..." Cang Ming stopped for a second, swallowing hard. "He was an arrogant, irritating bastard most of the time."

A bitter, faint smile touched his lips. "But he was my senior. And my friend."

"I still can’t accept that he’s gone."

Lin Yuan remained silent, looking at the heavy sword. Then, he reached out and placed a hand on Cang Ming’s shoulder.

"Don’t let grief take over you, Cang Ming."

Cang Ming looked up into his eyes.

"We’re going to hunt down whoever behind this shit," Lin Yuan said, his voice cold and sharp.

His fingers wrapped around Wànshī’s hilt. "And when we find them... they won’t have anywhere left on this earth to hide."

Cang Ming stared at him for a second, then slowly nodded. Without another word, he turned back and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

The eerie silence returned to the medical pavilion.

Lin Yuan sat alone, looking down at the weapon. His fingers tightened around the dark hilt, and he pulled.

Wànshī slid smoothly from its sheath.

The dark blade reflected the dim candlelight of the room. The moment Lin Yuan’s palm made contact with the blade, a sudden wave of heat lingered through his body.

Lin Yuan stared intently at the dark blade.

In that split second, a sound echoed near his consciousness, a faint whisper buried within the core of the sword.

Lin Yuan clenched the hilt, his eyes turning sharp.

"What exactly are you...?"

Wànshī remained silent, its dark blade cold and still in his hand. And Lin Yuan slowly let out a low, dangerous grin.