Chapter 33: The Price of Power and a Familiar Face

As Zhao Mingyuan’s formidable, heavy strike descended, he was utterly astonished. Yun Xueshang’s opening, which had been so clear, vanished in an instant, swiftly shifting to another spot. He had no time to adjust his attack.

CLANG—!!!

A colossal clang of metal reverberated throughout the entire palace. In that same instant, Yun Xueshang shifted her stance. Gripping her sword with both hands, she raised it high above her head, forcibly parrying the heavy blow.

—The Carefree Sword Art, Sixth Form: Block!

“This is impossible!” Zhao Mingyuan roared, his face contorted in disbelief. “I clearly used the Emperor’s Balance to exploit your weakness!”

“So what?”

Yun Xueshang’s voice was as cold as ice. She spun, leveraging the force of the impact, her wrist twisting as she swung her sword horizontally.

—The Carefree Sword Art, Fourth Form: Slash!

Zhao Mingyuan hastily spun his halberd to block, but the force of the strike sent him flying backward.

A cold light flared in Yun Xueshang’s eyes. With a flick of her hand, a white sword qi shot through the air. She followed the sword, chasing after the retreating Zhao Mingyuan, her sword tip aimed directly at his heart.

—The Carefree Sword Art, Tenth Form: Sword Qi!

—The Carefree Sword Art, First Form: Thrust!

“Evil fiend, perish!”

As he flew backward, Zhao Mingyuan watched the incoming sword qi and the shadow-like white figure. His pupils constricted violently.

Boom—!

Another terrifying spiritual energy tremor erupted, stirring up billowing dust that scattered in all directions.

‘Tsk. It feels like I don’t even need to do anything. Yun Xueshang alone can suppress this dog emperor.’

Hua Yan stood to the side, holding her formation plate, observing the fleeting exchange of blows.

She had remained inactive for two reasons: firstly, because Yun Xueshang was clearly dominating Zhao Mingyuan, and secondly, because she and Yun Xueshang had no prior coordination. Rushing in rashly might only interfere with Yun Xueshang’s movements, so she opted to watch from the sidelines.

‘However, this evil cultivator… shouldn’t fall so easily.’

She recalled the battle at Furlong City, where the City Lord transformed into a blood-red entity. If that City Lord knew such a move, there was no reason Zhao Mingyuan wouldn’t.

Sure enough, a surging wave of energy suddenly swept forth, clearing away the swirling yellow dust. At the epicenter of the tremor, Yun Xueshang and Zhao Mingyuan were locked in a fierce struggle, their sword and halberd clashing in a stalemate.

Zhao Mingyuan’s golden aura had already turned crimson, as if stained with blood. The dragon scales on his body and the dark black halberd in his hand had all transformed into a grotesque, dark red, almost black hue, seemingly writhing like living things.

“Open—!”

Blood-red energy rapidly spread from beneath his feet, instantly engulfing the entire ruins of the imperial palace.

‘A domain, then.’

Yun Xueshang frowned slightly. Then, she shifted her sword, deflecting the force and redirecting its momentum. Her sword tip now aimed directly at Zhao Mingyuan’s crimson eyes.

—The Carefree Sword Art, Seventh Form: Guide!

“ROAR—!”

Zhao Mingyuan let out a furious roar. Before Yun Xueshang’s eyes, a putrid, bloody sea suddenly materialized, rushing toward her with a terrifying aura.

Deng deng deng deng deng—

A clear, melodious zither sound rang out at just the right moment, shattering the illusion. Zhao Mingyuan’s distorted face reappeared, now alarmingly close.

SWISH!

“AH—!”

Zhao Mingyuan clutched his bleeding eye socket, howling in agony. He had managed to narrowly evade the fatal sword strike, but at the cost of an eye. He glared venomously at Hua Yan, who stood behind Yun Xueshang.

Hua Yan had by now put away her formation plate and was seated cross-legged in the air. A beautifully carved wooden zither rested in her hands, her fingertips glowing with faint spiritual energy.

‘Heh, if I don’t directly attack and just focus on support, I won’t interfere with Yun Xueshang, right?’

Hua Yan’s lips curved into a slight smile. Her ten fingers danced like butterflies, sending waves of sound directly into Zhao Mingyuan’s divine consciousness.

‘Damn it! Is she a formation cultivator or a sound cultivator?!’

Zhao Mingyuan gritted his teeth, battling Yun Xueshang and unleashing layers of blood waves with his halberd, all while struggling to resist the pervasive sound waves. He had initially thought Hua Yan was merely the formation cultivator who had set up the trapping array, never expecting her to also be a zither-playing sound cultivator.

‘I must deal with that red-haired woman first!’

He roared, and the blood waves surged, pushing Yun Xueshang back half a step. He then summoned the copper coin once more—it was now stained with a dark red, malevolent glow.

“I am the Emperor of Chu! By my imperial decree! Seal your dao arts!”

The copper coin slowly rotated, its evil light intensifying. Simultaneously, Zhao Mingyuan spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, and one of his arms was severed at the shoulder!

He had sacrificed an arm to seal Hua Yan’s zither music!

“How about that? Now you can’t play your zither, can you?!” Blood energy surged, and flesh rapidly regenerated from his severed arm. Though Zhao Mingyuan’s aura weakened, a twisted smile spread across his lips. “Let’s see how you help her now!”

The dark red halberd once again cleaved towards the charging Yun Xueshang, while a piercing soul howl struck directly at her sea of consciousness.

“Wuwuwu—!”

Yun Xueshang’s sword momentum remained unchecked. Instead, she seized the opening Zhao Mingyuan revealed by wielding his halberd with one hand, eager for a swift kill. Her long sword, like a bolt of lightning, reversed its path, thrusting upward directly at his throat.

—The Carefree Sword Art, Third Form: Uppercut!

“Pfft—!”

Zhao Mingyuan’s pupils constricted. In the nick of time, he forcefully pulled back his momentum, yet still failed to fully evade. The long sword slashed diagonally across his chest, tearing open a gash so deep that bone was visible, and blood gushed forth. The immense impact sent him flying backward once more.

“This is impossible!!”

His eyes were bloodshot, staring intently at Hua Yan—in her hands, there was now a long flute glowing with a faint green light!

“You are merely at the late Nascent Soul stage, and so young! How can you be proficient in so many different arts?!”

‘Hmph, ignorant old fool.’

Hua Yan disdained to speak further. Her fingers grasped the flute, bringing it to her crimson lips. A gentle flute melody began to play, sending waves of sound, just like the earlier zither music, deep into Zhao Mingyuan’s soul.

Meanwhile, Yun Xueshang’s movements remained relentless.

She transformed into a bolt of lightning, carrying the sound of tearing air, and in an instant, she flashed before Zhao Mingyuan, moving faster than any previous sword strike.

—The Carefree Sword Art, Eleventh Form: Thunderclap!

BANG—!!!

Zhao Mingyuan only managed a desperate attempt to block with his halberd before the overwhelming sword force sent him flying backward once more. He spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, his already heavily injured body suffering new wounds, adding injury upon injury.

“Yun Xueshang! You righteous bastards, must you really go to such extremes?!”

Zhao Mingyuan glared at the white-haired maiden approaching him again. His face was twisted in a grimace as he gripped his long halberd, dragging his body—which, though regenerating, was becoming increasingly broken—and clashed his halberd fiercely against Yun Xueshang’s long sword.

However, this time, her long sword did not produce the anticipated clang of metal against metal.

Yun Xueshang’s long sword, like a spiritual snake coiling around a tree, tightly wrapped itself around the heavy halberd in his hand. Then, with a sudden twist and flick—

CLANG!

Zhao Mingyuan’s tiger’s mouth vibrated violently, and the halberd flew directly from his grasp.

—The Carefree Sword Art, Eighth Form: Coil!

Immediately after, the sword light transformed into a venomous snake striking, swiftly and precisely piercing his vital points, causing blood to blossom.

—The Carefree Sword Art, Fifth Form: Point! Consecutive!

“Zhao Mingyuan, I was entrusted by someone to ask you one thing.”

The white-robed, white-haired immortal stood beneath the moonless night sky, her Autumn Water Sword pointed at Zhao Mingyuan, who lay slumped on the ground, gasping for breath. Her voice was clear and cold.

Ordinarily, given Yun Xueshang’s nature, she would simply cleave down evil fiends with a single strike, without any superfluous words. But since she had given her promise to another earlier, she needed to fulfill it—keeping her word was one of her good habits.

“I ask you, since you have fallen into the path of an evil cultivator, why did you make Empress Baizhi bear such infamy? Do you still love her?”

Zhao Mingyuan froze at her words, then erupted into a hoarse, maniacal laugh, coughing up flecks of blood.

“Cough, cough… Hahahaha! I knew it… that’s why you were able to set up a trapping array and secretly move everyone in the palace! So it was her!… So it was her! Hahahaha!”

The next moment, his face suddenly contorted, becoming as hideous as a malevolent ghost.

“My grand ambition… it was only one step away from breakthrough… and she ruined everything! It’s all because of her!!”

“Why make her bear infamy? Naturally, it was to push her out as a scapegoat when you righteous heroes came knocking! Who knew… you would arrive so quickly!”

“Love? Of course I love her! I couldn’t even bear to use her as a scapegoat… but now she has destroyed everything I had! I wish I could tear her apart with my own hands!!”

Yun Xueshang stood silently, her sword held steady, gazing at the man on the ground whose face was disfigured by evil arts and whose expression was maniacal. Her eyes held no joy or sorrow.

“In that case,” she slowly raised her sword, its tip reflecting the last faint glimmer of the night sky, “then you shall die.”

“Wait!”

A woman’s urgent voice suddenly rang out. Everyone looked in the direction of the sound, only to see a silver-haired woman with beast ears and a tail, who had appeared at some unknown point not far away. She wore simple coarse linen clothes, but in her hand, she held an exquisitely decorated bronze short sword.

The newcomer was Baizhi.

She walked forward, step by step, her gaze falling upon Zhao Mingyuan in the pool of blood. The emotions in her eyes were unreadable.

“My apologies, Immortal Yun,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “Please, allow me to ask him a few more questions.”