The words “Jinghong” thundered like a bolt of lightning in the black-robed figure’s ear.
A thousand years had passed—no one had called his name in a thousand years.
Mortal cultivators called him the “Demon,” eager to kill him on sight. The Beasts of Jiuyi Mountain saw him as an outcast and hated him to the core.
Now, deeply lost to demonic cultivation, he no longer hoped to see the light of day again.
Yet, unexpectedly, this day had come.
It was a pity that the moment he severed himself from the sword’s body to cultivate and fell into demonic chaos, there was no turning back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you want to live, leave Jiuyi Mountain immediately. Otherwise, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”
Yan Hanzhou furrowed his brows, his patience exhausted. Gathering his qi into a blade, he swung it directly at Jinghong.
Jinghong hurriedly defended, too afraid to think of counterattacking, staggering back step by step. The clash of blade against sword echoed through the cave.
Yan Hanzhou said coldly, “Ruthless? I want to see how ruthless you can be!”
“I gave you a chance to be stubborn!”
“If you have the guts, then show me your true strength and fight me!”
“A thousand years ago, I told you to find your master again. You wouldn’t listen. Now you’re lost to demonic cultivation—who told you to separate from the sword body’s cultivation?”
“And who taught you this Soulstealing Art to turn the Beasts of Jiuyi Mountain into puppets?”
“I left several cultivation manuals among the treasures in Jiuyi Mountain, yet you insist on practicing this evil technique. Who taught you that?”
“Speak!”
Jinghong gritted his teeth and dared not reply.
Seeing Jinghong’s back pressed against the cold stone wall with nowhere to retreat, and his demonic energy surging violently, Yan Hanzhou scolded harshly, “How dare you!”
In that split second of distraction, the demonic blade in Jinghong’s hand was swept aside by Yan Hanzhou’s sword.
A gust of sword qi lifted Jinghong’s hood, startling him.
He reached out to block with his wide sleeve but heard a sharp order: “Put it down!”
Jinghong hesitated, then lowered his raised hand, hanging his head, unwilling to meet Yan Hanzhou’s gaze.
Seeing Jinghong’s eyes bloodshot, his face gaunt, the purple-black demonic markings creeping from his neck to the right cheek, and the swirling demonic energy around him like a restless ghost, Yan Hanzhou’s heart ached.
Qi and blood churned violently inside him. He turned away, suppressing the turmoil for a long moment before asking calmly, “A thousand years ago, I sensed the Heavenly Tribulation was coming, so I placed you in Jiuyi Mountain. Over these thousand years, what exactly happened? Why have you become like this?”
Jinghong was about to speak when Yan Hanzhou sharply interrupted, “If you dare to spout nonsense again, then don’t call me master!”
Jinghong lowered his head, lost and unsure.
Yan Hanzhou sighed softly. “Speak. No matter what happened, I will not blame you.”
At these words, Jinghong suddenly knelt with a thud.
The violent bloodthirst and rage in his eyes faded, replaced by the flood of resentment, hatred, and anxious waiting accumulated over a millennium, breaking like a dam and turning into endless grievance.
“Master…”
Yan Hanzhou turned, looking at Jinghong’s pitiable state.
He recalled how a thousand years ago, Jinghong had followed him, the tip of his sword cutting through everything in his path.
Now, fallen so low, all anger in Yan Hanzhou’s eyes melted away.
“A thousand years ago, Master placed me in Jiuyi Mountain to find a new master. Cultivators who came seeking treasures here said you died in the Heavenly Tribulation, your soul scattered, but I refused to believe it! I knew you would come back!”
“In these thousand years, countless mortal cultivators have tried to seize your treasures. Not only that, even the Beasts of Jiuyi Mountain stirred restlessly. I knew that if things continued, someday all the treasures would be taken.”
“I said all treasures should be left for those destined to inherit them. You…”
Jinghong suddenly lifted his head and shouted, “A bunch of fame-chasing profiteers and a bunch of beasts who only know to live by their claws and teeth—how could they deserve Master’s treasures!”
“Do you know you’ve been separated from the sword body for a thousand years? The Jinghong Sword has been corroded and rusted. If I had come any later, when the sword body finally shattered, you would have dissipated into the void.”
He asked gravely, “What about those soulless Beasts?”
“The mortals and Beasts who entered the mountain were so greedy for the treasures, so I turned them all into puppets guarding the treasures. I trapped them here in Jiuyi Mountain, never to leave. That’s the price of their greed!”
A palm wind struck his face.
Jinghong’s pupils trembled. Suppressing every defensive instinct, he allowed Yan Hanzhou’s palm to slam into his face.
Nothing was more heartbreaking than seeing the Sword Spirit who once shone like the morning sun become a remorseless demon.
Yan Hanzhou’s fury surged. “What secret art did you practice to fall into demonic cultivation?”
“A thousand years ago, a cultivator came to the mountain wanting to be my master. I refused. He used Li Fire Forging. I barely escaped with my life. After that, I cultivated day and night… and I went mad,” Jinghong stammered, unable to meet Yan Hanzhou’s eyes.
A thousand years in Jiuyi Mountain, ending like this—it was obvious he had suffered immensely.
Yan Hanzhou knew Jinghong was not telling the whole truth, but at this point, he couldn’t bear to press further. He said in a low voice, “Come with me.”
Jinghong’s heart surged and he almost agreed, but then seemed to hesitate, whispering bitterly, “Master, I am too far gone in demonic cultivation. If I continue to follow you, I will only bring you trouble. Now that you have reclaimed all the treasures, my lifelong wish is fulfilled. I’ve stayed here in Jiuyi Mountain for a thousand years and I’ve grown used to it… so… I won’t go with you.”
“Is it your true wish not to follow me?”
Yan Hanzhou looked at him deeply bowed, silent for a moment. His voice betrayed no emotion as he said, “You’ve been in Jiuyi Mountain for a thousand years. I suppose you feel freer here than by my side. If that’s the case, I won’t force you. Do as you please.”
With that, he tossed the rusted, dimly glowing Jinghong Sword in front of him and immediately turned away without hesitation.
Watching Yan Hanzhou’s resolute back, Jinghong opened his mouth instinctively, his throat moving, but in the end swallowed all the words he hadn’t said.
As the footsteps receded into the vast emptiness of the cave and finally faded away, a wave of desolation filled his eyes.
The cave was deathly silent.
Staring at the rusted Jinghong Sword before him, his fingers trembling as he clutched it tightly in his palm, he gave a suppressed sigh and finally resigned himself.
Home.
At this point, all of it was self-inflicted, and he could blame no one else.
He had predicted this end the moment he forcibly severed himself from the sword body and fell into demonic cultivation.
All cultivators in the world saw slaying demons and eliminating evil as their duty.
Perhaps this lonely Jiuyi Mountain was the best—and the last—place for a demon like him.
At least the treasures he guarded for a thousand years had returned to their master’s hands.
His years of obsession could finally be laid to rest.
Jinghong struggled to rise, as if all his strength had drained away.
Yet when he lifted his head, his entire body suddenly froze.
Yan Hanzhou, who had long since departed, now stood at the dark gate, his deep eyes unblinking, fixed on him intently.
“Master…” Jinghong’s voice was dry and trembled with disbelief.
“Know how to put on an act?”
Outside the cave, Ning Yin and Ye Shangqiu waited anxiously.
“He’s been inside so long with no sign of movement. What is Brother Yan’s intention? What exactly does he want to do?”
Ye Shangqiu, standing before the Demonic Gate, was more than ready to leave.
He had come to realize that Yan Hanzhou was far more complicated than he appeared.
But he was only an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator and had no wish to linger here, risking collateral damage and losing his life for nothing.
Ning Yin’s gaze was heavy as she stared toward the cave entrance, her eyes filled with suspicion.
Yan Hanzhou had said he would never act without at least a ninety percent chance of victory.
But facing the Demonic energy here that could cost the main party dearly, could Yan really handle it alone?
Unable to suppress her anxiety, Ning Yin said, “I’ll go check inside.”
Ye Shangqiu grabbed her arm, “What are you doing? With our cultivation levels, it won’t matter if we go in or not.”
“But we can’t just stand by and do nothing.”
“Don’t worry. You didn’t see how Brother Yan cleared the nearby demons with a single sword strike just now. That’s not something a Foundation Establishment cultivator could do. You should know his strength better than I do. Trust him—he can handle it himself.”
Just as he finished speaking, a sudden burst of sword clashes erupted inside the cave.
With a loud boom, two figures shot out like meteors from the dust-filled entrance, their sword blades flashing like a frozen sea of cold light.
The dense clashing sounds merged into a piercing metallic ringing, their battle fierce and unyielding in midair.
“That’s Yan Hanzhou!”
“And that demon!”
Ning Yin summoned her Jinghong Sword and was about to rush forward to help.
But in the next moment, a sudden surge of sword light exploded in midair.
Accompanied by a heavy impact, one figure staggered as if hit by a hammer and suddenly lost control, plummeting from the sky.
Boom.
The heavy body crashed to the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust.
As the dust settled, Yan Hanzhou stood steadily before the demon, the icy tip of his sword pressed precisely against the demon’s throat.
Just one more inch and the demon’s life would be taken.
“…”
“…”
Ning Yin and Ye Shangqiu hurried forward.
Looking at the demon beneath Yan Hanzhou’s sword and then at Yan himself, they exchanged a glance, both shocked.
The demon that had cost the main party such heavy losses—was defeated just like that?
Impossible, right?
The demon that struck terror into countless cultivators, even the Heavenly Evolution Sect disciples powerless against it—was it really Yan Hanzhou’s defeated foe?
This can’t be a dream!
Amid Ning Yin and Ye Shangqiu’s overwhelming disbelief, Yan Hanzhou spoke slowly:
“He is not an ordinary demon. He is the Sword Spirit of the Jinghong Sword, corrupted by the Jiuyi Mountain Miasma over a thousand years until he fell into demonic cultivation.”
“He is the Sword Spirit of the Jinghong Sword?!” Ning Yin stared incredulously at the demon, shrouded in demonic energy.
So the Lingxiao Immortal Lord’s fated sword, such an important weapon, was not destroyed in battle beneath Si Huyu’s blade, but corrupted here?
“The Jinghong Sword?! Is it the legendary fated sword of the Lingxiao Immortal Lord?”
With Ye Shangqiu’s astonished gaze fixed on Yan, Yan Hanzhou pulled out the rusty sword he had bought from the vendor.
“This is the very sword.”
At these words, Ye Shangqiu gasped, his body swaying as if about to collapse.
He smacked his forehead in bitter regret, “Ah! I’ve had the Lingxiao Immortal Lord’s fated sword in my hands for eight years and never noticed a single clue! What kind of eyes do I have?”
Yan Hanzhou looked solemnly at Jinghong.
“I’ll give you one chance. If you are willing to sever your demonic thoughts, return to the sword sheath, and acknowledge me as your master, I will spare your life.”
Jinghong snorted coldly, “Even if you kill me, I will…”
Before he could finish, an invisible pressure suddenly spread out.
Jinghong’s fierce gaze swept over everyone, finally resting on the sword tip at his throat.
As if unwilling to bear such humiliation, he lowered his head.