Chapter 48: Old Grievances

Tens of thousands of sword energies, together with Chen Yuxuan, slanted toward Qian Zhoulian above the wharf square, resembling a rainstorm whipped awry by a fierce wind, descending in chaotic torrents upon Qian Zhoulian. To an ordinary onlooker, it would seem as if a sword immortal had descended to the mortal realm and unleashed a celestial strike.

Those myriad sword auras shot toward Qian Zhoulian with the swiftness of rain. In response, Qian Zhoulian accelerated the flow of energy through his meridians, and waves of black miasma enveloped his body, forming a formidable defense. The massive, pitch-black arm of the Poison Dragon stretched out to block the rootless Green Pine sword in Chen Yuxuan’s hand. Sword and arm clashed in midair, parrying and thrusting, neither gaining the upper hand, the surrounding black mists and sword energies swirling in a relentless stalemate.

Qian Zhoulian struck first as they fought. Channeling his power, the black miasma surged skyward, coalescing into a colossal Poison Dragon’s claw that crashed down toward Chen Yuxuan, who faced him defiantly. On the ground, the Poison Dragon’s hand tightly ensnared Chen Yuxuan. The enormous claw hung in the air like a giant black compass, blotting out the heavens and casting a night-like shadow across most of the wharf square.

A thunderous crash resounded as the Poison Dragon’s claw slammed onto the square, sending up a storm of dust like a desert gale. Only after a long while, when the dust settled, did the ground reveal the deep imprint of the giant claw. Yet as the true shape of the mark emerged, it became clear that Chen Yuxuan had not been crushed beneath it. Qian Zhoulian’s gaze was not fixed on the indentation, but rather lifted skyward.

“I did not expect, after seventy-nine years, that your mastery of the sword would have advanced so far. I regret not eradicating you completely back then; now you’ve returned, like spring grass sprouting anew!” Qian Zhoulian looked up at Chen Yuxuan, who hovered aloft on his sword, untouched by the onslaught, though now without the whirling sword energies that had previously surrounded him. There was a note of begrudging admiration in his sigh.

Chen Yuxuan gripped the rootless Green Pine and smiled. “Old cur, to regret only now is far too late, I’m afraid.”

Qian Zhoulian’s eyes narrowed, the wrinkles deepening around them. His tone was calm: “That may not be the case.”

Chen Yuxuan only smiled in reply. In the next instant, he raised a hand and vanished from midair, reappearing a heartbeat later beside Qian Zhoulian, sword slashing down.

It was the first form of the Three Grand Arts of Mount Taiyi—the Demon Severance of Taiyi’s Triple Strike—fused with the Taiyi Starshift, another of the sect’s supreme techniques.

Yet this strike posed little threat to Qian Zhoulian; he deftly extended his Poison Dragon’s arm, blocking the sword with ease. Smirking, he said, “If this had been the Starshift of Master Lingxu himself, perhaps I would have struggled. But your Starshift? Forgive my bluntness, but it’s still lacking.”

Before he finished speaking, his Poison Dragon’s arm gripped the rootless Green Pine, trying to crush it. But the sword seemed to possess the resilience of a living pine; it would not break. Infuriated, Qian Zhoulian spun, flinging both sword and Chen Yuxuan toward the distant South Sea at the edge of the wharf square.

With a flurry of splashes, Chen Yuxuan crashed onto the surface of the South Sea, sending up plumes of spray. After a moment, the waves subsided, replaced by the ripples beneath his feet as he steadied himself, standing atop the water, sword in hand.

He had barely regained his footing before vanishing again.

But Qian Zhoulian was ready this time, a sly smile on his lips. As expected, the next instant, Chen Yuxuan appeared at his left. Qian Zhoulian, with a dismissive sneer, thrust out the Poison Dragon’s arm to intercept the sword tip of the incoming rootless Green Pine, intent on crushing it at last.

Chen Yuxuan, seeing his opponent’s disdain, smiled inwardly.

Suddenly, Qian Zhoulian’s expression changed. The Poison Dragon’s arm had grasped only air. He reacted instantly, choosing to dodge instead of defend, knowing there was no time. Nor could he counterattack, for his arm could not be recalled quickly enough. All he could do was evade—and as far as possible.

A sharp hiss split the air. Though Qian Zhoulian moved with all his speed, he was still a step too slow. The sword’s aura tore through his robes, drawing several lines of blood.

Staggering back, he planted his palm against the sword’s blade to push himself away, finally coming to a halt. He brushed off the bloodstained tatters of his garment, ran a finger over the wound, and brought the blood to his lips, licking it clean.

Lifting his shadowed face, he looked at Chen Yuxuan, now some distance away after his sword’s trajectory had been altered by the clash. Qian Zhoulian bared a ghastly smile. “So, even I can be wounded through carelessness.”

Chen Yuxuan steadied himself and replied with a laugh, “Naturally. For you never truly considered me your equal.”

“I never did, for we are not of the same generation,” Qian Zhoulian said with a smile. Then, his tone grew serious: “But from this moment on, I shall regard you as a true rival.” As he spoke, his aura transformed—not more powerful than before, but far more focused.

Chen Yuxuan narrowed his eyes; so, the old man’s true strength had not yet been revealed.

Qian Zhoulian, his energy consolidated, began to approach Chen Yuxuan at a slow, deliberate pace. Each step sent a surge of force rippling across the square, raising puffs of dust with every footfall, underscoring his mounting momentum.

Chen Yuxuan, watching his foe’s measured advance, narrowed his eyes further. He raised the rootless Green Pine before him, channeling his sword’s force. The sword trembled, sending ripples through the air, transforming into a blade of pure light. Countless miniature sword energies whirled around it, their brilliance illuminating the square and all but eclipsing the moon.

Qian Zhoulian picked up speed, his steps shifting from a measured walk to a rapid charge. He tilted the Poison Dragon’s arm forward, swinging it from behind to a position beneath him, then straight ahead. The air around the square churned as black currents, like the tides of the South Sea, surged toward Chen Yuxuan.

Ascending with his sword, Chen Yuxuan’s aura grew ever more majestic. The rootless Green Pine became a beacon, surrounded by a constellation of sword energies, its dazzling light nearly outshining the night itself.

“Die for me!” Qian Zhoulian shrieked, leaping into the air. The Poison Dragon’s arm clawed for Chen Yuxuan, its murderous aura preceding it. Black energy swirled, seeking to engulf both Chen Yuxuan and the myriad sword energies that encircled the rootless Green Pine, like a demonic hand closing around its prey.

The might of the Poison Dragon’s arm blotted out the sky, descending upon Chen Yuxuan like the hand of a vengeful demon.