Chapter 121: The Ghost Sword Sovereign

Streaks of scattered moonlight filtered through the window slits, casting a glow on Liu Feixue’s profile. Her slightly red lips shimmered with an alluring light.

This sleeping woman, who exuded a heroic aura during the day, now seemed tranquil and delicate, a striking contrast.

Ying Du’s right hand, raised high in preparation, trembled slightly from the exertion. He gritted his teeth and muttered, “Damn it! How can someone’s face be so captivating?”

“Who could bear to lay a hand on this?”

After cursing softly, Ying Du adjusted Liu Feixue’s posture, placing her back in a “sleeping position” on the table.

Turning around abruptly, he spotted the ghost sword floating mid-air and the fallen martial artists lying on either side of the arena.

Among them, Lu Ming’s shiny bald head caught his attention.

Rushing down from the pavilion, Ying Du wasted no time and began slapping Lu Ming’s face.

“Sorry, brother!”

Smack!

“This slap is for saving you!”

Smack! Smack!

“Wake up! Wake up already!”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

After a flurry of slaps, symmetrical red marks appeared on both sides of Lu Ming’s face, yet there was no sign of him waking up.

“Damn it!” Ying Du cursed, venting his frustration by smacking Lu Ming’s shiny bald head. “Still not waking up. Lucky I didn’t try this on Liu Feixue…”

Swaggering over to Qiu Qianren’s seat, Ying Du plopped down, blew on his reddened hands, and chuckled, “If they don’t wake up, so be it. I tried my best, but once I figured things out, I made it out alive, didn’t I?”

Slurp!

He picked up the teacup on the table, took a big gulp, and played with the empty cup while muttering to himself, “Mr. Gu, we made it out alive! Doesn’t that mean we won?”

“Mr. Gu, why don’t you save them? Even if you don’t care about the others, at least help Liu Feixue—she’s on our side!”

“Mr. Gu?”

Ying Du’s voice echoed in the empty pavilion, fluctuating in pitch.

When no response came, he laughed bitterly. “Immortals? Kindness? All lies!”

“In the past, you wouldn’t even gamble with the old man. So why now, after all this time, would you bet with me instead?”

“Are immortals really so fickle and unpredictable?”

“Hey!”

“Mr. Gu! We won, didn’t we? Say something—just one word, and we’ll leave!”

Standing up, Ying Du glanced at the third floor of the pavilion, where Liu Feixue was lying, then headed toward the entrance.

“We won!”

“Old man, I’ve won against an immortal!”

“If you can see this from the underworld, you must be laughing your head off, right?”

At this, Ying Du’s expression suddenly changed. He cursed angrily, “Damn it!” and rushed to the edge of the arena. He grabbed a jug of strong liquor from a nearby table, uncorked it, and gulped it down.

After letting out a belch, Ying Du wiped the liquor from his lips, his steps unsteady as he slurred, “If they don’t wake up and can’t go back, at least I’ve done my best…”

Thud!

With that, Ying Du’s vision blurred, and he collapsed onto the ground.

“Clever,” Gu Ning’an said, clasping his hands behind his back, halting his deductions.

Beside him, the trembling Qiu Qianren asked nervously, “Mr. Gu, what did you say?”

“Nothing. How much further?” Gu Ning’an replied calmly.

“Past this tomb passage, and we’ll reach the Nine Sword Sovereign,” Qiu Qianren hastily answered.

Gu Ning’an nodded. “Alright.”

Let’s rewind to the time about one incense stick earlier. Qiu Qianren, who was leading Gu Ning’an, had revealed the truth about the ghost cultivator in an attempt to “bet on both sides.”

This ghost cultivator was someone Qiu Qianren had encountered by chance while practicing swordsmanship on the back mountain. He had stumbled into a burial passage and met him there.

At the center of the Heavenly Sword Villa’s mountain was a tomb chamber, the resting place of the Nine Sword Sovereign.

The Nine Sword Sovereign had taught Qiu Qianren swordsmanship, using this as leverage to compel him to help devour the vital blood of sword cultivators.

The ghost sword, named Black Wind, was the Nine Sword Sovereign’s weapon. It had been given to Qiu Qianren so he could control other sword cultivators.

For individuals like the Willow Leaf Swordsman, Qiu Qianren only needed to activate the “soul-capturing enchantment” already embedded in the ghost sword to make them his most loyal slaves.

As for why someone like that was spared and not devoured by the Nine Sword Sovereign, Qiu Qianren didn’t know and didn’t dare ask.

After listening to Qiu Qianren and combining it with his own observations, Gu Ning’an could roughly guess what the so-called “Nine Sword Sovereign” intended.

Planting locust trees to gather yin energy and trap wandering spirits was meant to create an environment suitable for cultivation. Ghost cultivators relied on yin power for their methods.

Gathering sword cultivators for a tournament and using the soul-capturing technique to control powerful martial artists served two purposes. First, the sword cultivators’ souls were devoured to refine the ghost sword. Second, the Nine Sword Sovereign likely aimed to possess a strong, karma-free body.

Qiu Qianren, burdened with his countless karmic entanglements, must have deepened his sins significantly since working for the ghost cultivator.

Possessing such a body would cause tremendous hindrances for the ghost cultivator in the future, even inviting heavenly tribulations.

Thus, Gu Ning’an surmised that Qiu Qianren’s ultimate fate would be either being devoured by the ghost cultivator or dying violently under the weight of his accumulated sins.

“Mr. Gu, this is the entrance to the Nine Sword Sovereign’s tomb chamber…” Qiu Qianren whispered in a low voice before stepping into the spacious main chamber first.

Two oil lamps flickered on either side of the main chamber, and the air was filled with a dark, damp stench.

In the center of the tomb lay a verdant copper coffin, its four sides intricately engraved with lifelike long swords.

Atop the coffin sat a straight-backed figure. Draped in a dark red cloak and with his hair tied in a crown, the figure’s silhouette alone evoked the image of a swordsman.

“You’ve come so early? Where’s Black Wind?” A rough, gravelly voice rasped from the figure.

Sovereign, have you not noticed there’s a living person standing beside me?

Heart pounding, Qiu Qianren forced a smile at Gu Ning’an before replying, “Honored Sovereign, Black Wind is still up in the pavilion maintaining the formation.”

The ghost cultivator asked skeptically, “Then why are you here?”

This so-called Sovereign hasn’t noticed the other person after all… ridiculous.

Qiu Qianren twitched his mouth and glanced at Gu Ning’an. Seeing him nod, Qiu Qianren cupped his hands and said, “It is Mr. Gu’s command to bring him to meet you.”

Whoosh!

The ghost cultivator abruptly turned around, revealing a ghastly, bone-white skeleton to Gu Ning’an and Qiu Qianren.

As it turned out, the ghost cultivator no longer had a physical body and merely resided as a soul within the skeleton he had in life.

Creak, creak…

The ghost cultivator’s jawbone clattered as he opened and closed his mouth. Black light flickered eerily in his sunken eye sockets. After sizing up Gu Ning’an, he finally spoke:

“A cultivator on the immortal path?”

Gu Ning’an nodded. “You could say that.”