Chapter 113: The Woman Who Walks the Path with a Blade

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Chapter 113: The Woman Who Entered the Dao Through the Blade

The great platform lay in utter ruin.

In the space of a few moments, the Qingxu Sect’s promising young disciples had suffered devastating casualties. Even Yan Nantian’s son had died horribly. Hearing the chilling words of the one responsible, countless people retreated, undisguised fear filling their eyes, as though Shen Yu had become an even more terrifying figure than the Qingxu Sect itself.

Shen Yu gave his hand a gentle wave, and the wooden sword instantly flew back into his sleeve.

The transparent sword of light that had killed Yan Yunyu earlier had merely been a sword of spiritual energy casually condensed through Daoist magic.

After taking a life, it naturally dissipated.

Facing the gazes of the crowd, Shen Yu showed no emotion.

In this lifetime, the knot in his heart lay in South River City, at the old residence of the Shen family.

And everything had begun with Daoist Zhishan of Cloud Sun Abbey.

Thus, after the Shen family was destroyed, he had changed his name and infiltrated the desolate city in the northwest, where he killed Zhishan and destroyed Cloud Sun Abbey.

Earlier, when he saw the disciples’ clothing, he had finally remembered that the disciples of Cloud Sun Abbey had worn exactly the same garments when he was in the northwest.

So they had been enemies all along. No wonder he had found their sight so irritating.

Some people finally returned to their senses and gazed at that figure in a daze.

Upon this high platform, Shen Yu had done only two things.

The first was painting.

The second was killing.

The meanings of the two were utterly different, yet they displayed the same qualities in him.

Domineering.

Ruthless.

Beyond question.

Those with deeper and more calculating minds had noticed details that were even more terrifying.

He had blocked a strike from the Cloudglow Mirror of Broken Blade Mountain, then returned it against more than a hundred disciples of the Qingxu Sect.

Afterward, he had condensed energy into a sword and killed Yan Yunyu.

Throughout every movement between those two events, Shen Yu had not moved a single step. Yet he had toyed with Yan Nantian, a cultivator of profound attainment, as though he were nothing more than a plaything in the palm of his hand.

What level of calculation and composure did that require?

The winds and clouds stirred once more.

The winds and clouds above the nine heavens began to churn, while spiritual energy scattered in every direction.

A vast, murderous aura came from ten thousand miles away. It possessed no visible form, yet it felt as though blades were scraping fiercely across one’s body.

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The Cloudglow Mirror, unattended by anyone, began to move of its own accord. It seemed delighted, as though it had encountered an old acquaintance.

A tremendous pressure descended upon the air.

Shen Yu raised his head slightly, his gaze turning serious.

He sensed an aura that had already entered the Upper Three Realms. After a moment’s thought, he decided that it must be Li Moran, the female immortal of Broken Blade Mountain who had entered the Dao through the blade.

When the small one is beaten, the big one comes. When the big one is beaten, the old one comes.

This familiar saying, popular among both ordinary people and cultivators, was naturally known to Shen Yu—and he understood it all too well.

What happened next proved his guess.

The winds and clouds above the high platform drifted away into the distance, and sunlight shone down upon the entire platform without the slightest obstruction.

Yet everyone felt an indescribable chill.

As that powerful aura in the distant sky drew closer, they finally discovered that it was actually a silver, crescent-shaped wave of energy.

It carried the aura of some kind of weapon.

It was not the sharp and swift force of a sword.

It was instead the domineering, invincible intent of a blade.

Shen Yu understood.

It turned out that the woman rumored to have entered the Dao through the blade had already slashed at him from ten thousand miles away, showing no mercy.

Perhaps she had unleashed this strike the moment he stepped onto the platform and defeated Yan Yunyu. Perhaps she had done so even earlier.

With the passage of distance and time, the force of the blade had become less violent, yet it remained immensely powerful—powerful enough to annihilate everyone upon the platform in an instant.

Those who did not flee would die.

Those who fled would leave everyone on the platform to be buried first.

...

Shen Yu glanced at the ground.

Zhao Ji, severely weakened, understood his meaning. With a flash of her figure, she seized the father and daughter of the Yang family and fled into the distance.

At the same time, many cultivators also realized what was happening and fled in every direction.

The wealthy merchants and great clansmen of the city, possessing not the slightest cultivation, had nowhere to escape. Their faces drained of color as they huddled along the edge of the platform.

First came the gale.

Boom!

The floating platform slid dozens of yards sideways through the air. The bricks along its edge split into countless web-like cracks, which began spreading frantically toward the center.

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The entire platform swayed precariously.

Countless people let out heart-rending screams.

The mere gale brought by the blade’s intent was already so terrifying. If the crescent-shaped blade aura that followed crashed into them, what hope could they possibly have hundreds of yards above the ground?

In everyone’s eyes, the only person who might have been able to stop the strike was Yan Nantian. Yet he seemed to have lost his soul. Clutching Yan Yunyu’s corpse, his face was ashen, and he made not the slightest movement.

As despair consumed all hope, some people began to weep in terror.

“It’s all because of that Shen Yu! If not for him, how could we have ended up like this?”

“That’s right! He wants to die, but he’s dragging us down with him. That jinx!”

“I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

When people of this world encountered matters beyond their ability to resolve, they would instinctively blame their suffering and torment on certain people or things, using them as an outlet for their fear and resentment.

Such were the myriad forms of humanity—strange, bizarre, and ultimately no different from this.

Countless voices filled with blame and curses rang out, as though Shen Yu were being condemned by the entire world.

Yet amid those self-destructive cries, another voice suddenly rang out in shock.

“Him? ... Him!”

Before the words had even faded, countless gazes turned forward, clinging to a desperate hope of survival.

There, they saw that the straight-backed figure in blue, upright as a sword, had somehow and silently walked to the very edge of the platform.

The gale swept toward him. The young man’s robes billowed, his wide sleeves fluttering as though he were an immortal banished from the heavens.

...

Shen Yu quietly watched the crescent-shaped blade aura approach from the horizon.

He heard every word spoken by those behind him, yet he did not care in the slightest.

The human heart was the most unfathomable thing in existence—and the thing least fit to be looked upon directly.

What they said had little connection to what he intended to do.

He stood here for no one.

He simply found the other party’s attitude and method of wielding the blade far too contemptuous. That feeling only made Shen Yu’s already unpleasant mood worse.

A rainbow pierced the sun.

Shen Yu’s right hand was completely enveloped in thick, blood-red radiance.

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