Chapter Sixty-Two: Zhang Zhi

From the moment he left the Daoist Sect, Shen Yu sensed a faint, lingering murderous intent trailing him. It was only after he departed Liyang City that he finally confirmed the identity of his pursuer.

It was Zhang Zhi, the Head of Mount Sit-in-Forgetfulness.

The reason was simple enough—Shen Yu had humiliated Zhang Zhi several times in public, and had even crippled the senior disciple whom Zhang Zhi had painstakingly nurtured for years. Such offenses had surely exceeded the limits of Zhang Zhi’s forbearance. There was another reason—the future succession of the Daoist Sect’s leadership, a matter those people were still unwilling to relinquish.

Shen Yu rose slowly, clutching his chest as he stood in the gorge. Even as the sword energy rampaged ever more violently within him, he betrayed nothing of his pain.

During the previous grand competition, young disciples like Yu Wenwen, Fang Hen, and Chen Jianzhi were all at the Spirit Roaming stage, but in true life-and-death combat, none could compare to someone like Zhang Zhi, who had slaughtered countless demons and foreign tribes, forging his cultivation through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

Shen Yu was not worried, only mildly troubled. Killing Zhang Zhi outright would set off countless consequences, though it would resolve the enmity between them—after all, he still remembered his promise to Ding Yi. Yet if he spared him, endless trouble would still ensue.

Shen Yu was a man who despised trouble.

Back at the Grandmaster Hall plaza, Shen Yu had considered seizing the opportunity to kill Zhang Zhi. But with three supreme cultivators, even Ascendants or Immortals, present, there had been no chance. He had thus let it go.

The black-clad boy stared fixedly at the man and said, “He’s very strong.”

Shen Yu replied, “Hold him there. I’ll finish him.”

The boy looked at Shen Yu with suspicion. Perceiving only an ordinary Golden Core cultivator, he cautiously asked, “Sir, do humans have anything like a Life-and-Death Mark?”

“No,” Shen Yu answered coolly. Then, forming a Daoist seal with his right hand, he added, “But to kill him, I need only one sword.”

...

Zhang Zhi strode leisurely along the mountain path.

He was in no hurry to strike. Shen Yu, after all, was the Daoist Sect’s most brilliant young disciple; such matters required utmost discretion, lest the sect trace it back to him.

Thus, he had chosen the narrow pass between Central Province and Eastern Ancestor Province for his move. To avoid detection, he had even attached a thread of his origin aura to a mere Initiate-level martial artist back in Liyang City, lengthening the distance of his shadowing.

“You’ve humiliated me time and again. Did you truly think yourself a favored son of heaven, untouchable? You’re nothing but a bastard who killed his own parents,” Zhang Zhi sneered. Suddenly, his expression darkened as he sensed something amiss.

Dense fog and demonic miasma began to shroud the surroundings—something that had never happened before. At his realm, any casual release of origin aura would send the lowly spirits, demons, and ghosts fleeing in terror.

With a cold huff, Zhang Zhi barked, “Impudent!”

A surge of spiritual power rippled from him, sweeping up fallen branches and shattered leaves, the mountain forest echoing with faint cries of anguish.

Yet only moments later, a formidable demonic force surged back at him.

“And who do you think you are?” came a surly voice from the mist.

Zhang Zhi’s gaze turned icy as he watched a small figure gradually take shape before him. “So, it’s merely a juvenile Black Serpent. Daring to act up before me when you haven’t even matured? If you value your centuries of cultivation, begone at once.”

“My, what a loud mouth. And who might you be?” The black-clad boy feigned terror, rolling his eyes. “You’ve scared me half to death.”

“Courting death,” Zhang Zhi spat, lifting his right hand. The ancient sword behind him leapt into his grasp.

He struck.

Sword energy arced like a crescent moon, cleaving the earth and sending shards of stone hurtling toward the boy.

“Good!” the boy shouted, planting his feet and swinging his right fist straight at the deadly sword energy.

Bang!

A series of explosions cracked through the air as punch and sword clashed, carving a deep pit into the ground below. Sword energy and fist winds burst in all directions, filling the mountain path with violent turbulence.

The boy staggered back a few steps, teeth bared. Shaking his numb hand, he cursed, “Stop lurking and watching—get your asses out here and kill him!”

As he cursed, several skeletal hands sprang from beneath Zhang Zhi’s feet, seizing his ankles and dragging him downward. All around, pitiful wails and ghastly howls erupted, turning the place into a scene from the depths of the underworld.

“Hmph, a pack of petty spirits and fiends,” Zhang Zhi snorted. Raising his right hand high, he reversed his sword and drove it into the earth.

A thunderous boom resounded.

With the sword’s tip buried in the ground, a shockwave of sword energy rippled outward like a tidal wave. Every spirit and demon within dozens of miles was instantly reduced to ashes, vanishing from the world.

“Die for me!” the black-clad boy shouted from above Zhang Zhi, hefting a boulder as large as a small mountain and hurling it down.

Without even glancing up, Zhang Zhi flicked his left sleeve at the air.

Boom!

The boulder shattered into countless fragments, raining down like a storm.

The boy plunged from above, right fist clenched, swinging heavily at Zhang Zhi. Though not yet transformed into a true Flood Dragon, the Black Serpent’s demonic body was formidable. This blow, carrying all his strength, twisted the very air with a piercing shriek.

For the first time, Zhang Zhi’s expression changed. With a flick of his fingers along the sword’s edge, a brilliant sword ray shot skyward.

Another full-force collision of sword and fist.

The earth shook, mountains trembled, and a thunderous roar rent the air. The ancient sword bent slightly, and blood seeped from the boy’s knuckles.

In a flash, Zhang Zhi appeared beside his sword, lips curled in contempt. With his free left hand, he flicked the black-clad boy’s forehead with casual disdain.

The boy was sent flying, crashing hard into the mountainside, buried beneath falling rocks and dust.

Groaning in pain, the boy crawled out from the rubble. This man was simply too powerful.

Zhang Zhi looked on impassively—this reckless serpent was courting death. Just as he prepared to finish him off, a terrifying aura erupted from the distance, even setting his own heart pounding.

He whirled around. Atop a distant peak, a handsome young man stood, his right hand poised in a sword gesture, a jade-green sword exuding a deathly aura aimed directly at him.

“Shen Yu!”

Zhang Zhi’s pupils shrank—not just surprised at Shen Yu’s presence, but at the overwhelming sword pressure gathering before him, making resistance seem futile.

He knew well Shen Yu’s unpredictable methods. Without hesitation, he formed frantic seals and summoned his ancient sword, aiming to kill Shen Yu in a single strike.

Boom!

A giant Black Serpent appeared atop the rocks, head raised, lunging straight at him.

Faced with such a ferocious beast, Zhang Zhi’s eyes flashed with violence. He forced his sword’s trajectory to shift, slamming it down on the serpent’s head.

This brief delay allowed the distant jade sword’s momentum to grow even more fearsome.

Enraged, Zhang Zhi cursed, “Wretch! Colluding with a serpent demon—you must be deeply entwined with the demon clans. Today I’ll purge the sect myself!”

...

Shen Yu’s gaze was icy. He chanted his incantation softly, right hand pointing ahead as threads of origin energy converged onto the three-foot jade sword before him.

This was a sword meant for slaughter, its killing intent far surpassing that of the Jingqing Sword. Even though it was not yet fully refined, its boundless murderous aura was impossible to withstand.

Back on Mottian Cliff at the Hall of Pure Law, Daofan had recognized his swordsmanship as that of Sword Immortal City.

At that time, Shen Yu’s cultivation was low, so he could only perform basic sword arts.

If truth be told, the sword technique created by that Sword Immortal was the most supreme killing art in the world. Even Shen Yu, who revered the Way of the Sword, was captivated by its near-divine power.

Three thousand years ago, countless ancient demons, foreign tribes, and true devils perished to the sword arts of Sword Immortal City!

Yet now, a millennium later, only half of this sword art remained in Sword Immortal City—the other half had been taken by the foreign tribes.

Shen Yu’s figure swayed. With his current realm, pouring all his spiritual power into it, he could barely unleash a single strike.

He looked at Zhang Zhi as though gazing upon a dead man.

...

The distant rumble of shattering rock echoed.

Zhang Zhi’s nerves frayed. His original plan was to simply slaughter Shen Yu, yet now he was entangled by this serpent demon.

A mere hundred paces separated them, yet it felt as insurmountable as a world apart.

Once again he hurled the serpent aside, and said coldly, “Miserable creature—you’re really seeking death.”

Black mist curled along the ground as the black-clad boy took human form once more, his body covered in wounds so deep the bone showed, half-reclining against the cliff, coughing up a mouthful of clotted blood.

“Damn you—you’re not getting past me!” the boy spat, wiping blood from his lips. He too sensed the distant, overwhelming arrow of sword force, and cursed, “Soon I’ll send you to your next life, and take every treasure you own!”

Zhang Zhi felt a twinge of helplessness.

The serpent demon’s cultivation was unremarkable, but its celestial hide and flesh were tougher than any spirit treasure. To slay it quickly was impossible, but the sword force gathering on Shen Yu chilled him to the core.

Whoosh!

The ancient sword shot toward the boy as Zhang Zhi lunged toward Shen Yu.

But in the next instant, a fist packed with monstrous strength crashed into the back of Zhang Zhi’s skull, forcing him to turn and block, hurling him back to earth.

The black-clad boy was also knocked down, his left shoulder now sporting a bloody hole from which golden blood poured.

Blocked again and again, Zhang Zhi stomped savagely on the boy’s head and sneered, “What is he to you, that you’d risk your life for him?”

The boy froze, caught off guard by the question.

“Idiot!” Zhang Zhi spat, glancing at Shen Yu as his sword trembled with power.

But then a searing agony shot up his leg, making him release his sword in pain.

“Aaaargh!”

Zhang Zhi screamed.

The black-clad boy had bitten deep into his left leg, teeth sinking to the bone.

“Little beast, you want to die?” Zhang Zhi’s eyes blazed red as he raised his foot and stomped down hard.

The boy’s head was driven deep into the ground.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A series of heavy stomps followed, until the boy’s upper body was half-buried in the pit.

“I... I, Fugui... left the mountain, entered the world... I will never flee in disgrace...” came a broken murmur from underground, “He’s the teacher I just acknowledged—how could I run away at our first battle... I... I just can’t do it!!”

“Loyal and righteous, are you? Then today I’ll grant your wish!” Zhang Zhi laughed in fury, retrieving his sword and raising it high, aiming a fatal strike at the serpent’s skull.

In the distance, Shen Yu’s expression remained calm from start to finish. Only now did his right hand finally move.