Madam Shi’s gaze toward her was devoid of the warmth it once held. The facade of a mother-daughter bond had shattered, and with the truth exposed, there was no need to continue the charade.
“Yao Yao, tonight, you’ll finally be able to replace your spiritual root.”
Shi Yao smiled. “Thank you for your help, Mother.”
Mother.
She had finally changed the way she addressed her.
Sang Dai lowered her gaze slightly, her throat feeling a bit dry.
But a swordsman’s emotions recover quickly. When she raised her eyes again, her expression was once again calm.
“You won’t be able to kill me,” Sang Dai said softly as she glanced around. “The strongest among you is Bi Fang, a Soul Transformation cultivator. The rest are Nascent Soul and Golden Core. You can’t kill me.”
Shi Yao’s smile almost faltered.
Even now, Sang Dai was as confident as ever. No matter how much injustice or danger she faced, she always maintained this detached attitude, as if she cared about nothing and feared nothing.
It was infuriating.
“Is that so, Senior Sister?” Shi Yao sneered. “Why don’t we test that?”
Bi Fang held Shi Yao back by the waist, urging her to retreat quickly.
Madam Shi tilted her chin slightly. “Take her down.”
“Yes!”
Thousands of cultivators formed ranks. Just as Sang Dai was about to charge forward, she heard Hua Ling speak softly behind her.
“Miss Sang, I’m sorry. I had no choice.”
Sang Dai froze. As she turned her head, Hua Ling raised her hand, triggering the mechanism that shattered the hidden chamber wall in Manxiang Pavilion.
White mist poured in from the airways on all sides, engulfing the entire pavilion.
Sang Dai, unguarded against Hua Ling, hastily used her spiritual energy to seal her nose and mouth, but she had already inhaled some of the mist.
Tears welled up in Hua Ling’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve wronged you. I’ve wronged Immortal Lord Ying Heng… but I truly had no other choice.”
The effects of the mist—crafted from rosemary—took hold quickly. Created personally by that strange little creature from the Valley of Divine Medicine, just a small amount was enough to incapacitate a Soul Transformation cultivator for a long time, and even someone at the Grand Ascension stage would be affected. The substance was hallucinogenic, and Sang Dai’s vision began to blur.
She shook her head and decisively cut herself, the pain clearing her mind. Quickly, she retrieved an antidote pill from her Qiankun Pouch and swallowed it.
Sang Dai gave Hua Ling a deep look, realizing that the words Hua Ling had spoken earlier were merely to lower her guard.
This was not the first time she had been schemed against. She said nothing, offering no reproach to Hua Ling.
In life, betrayal is inevitable. Sang Dai had witnessed it too many times and had grown indifferent to it.
Few had ever truly treated her with sincerity along her journey.
Silently retracting her gaze, Sang Dai unsheathed her Zhiyu Sword and charged into the crowd.
Her blue robes were soon engulfed by the sea of cultivators, and only the flashes of her sword light gave any clue to her location.
Hua Ling let out a bitter laugh, lowering her eyes as tears fell.
The rosemary’s effects had no cure. Sang Dai was merely suppressing the toxin temporarily. The more she used her spiritual energy, the more the rosemary would corrode her meridians.
A figure entered Manxiang Pavilion through the back door and approached Hua Ling.
Hua Ling raised her eyes, and the woman in the pink dress smiled as she asked, “Where is the Chunying Sword?”
Hua Ling sneered coldly. “I did as you said, but you still haven’t brought my family here. Until I see them, you’ll never get the Chunying Sword.”
Shi Yao glanced at Bi Fang, who immediately understood.
The red-clothed youth teleported in front of Hua Ling, seizing her throat with one hand. Hua Ling’s face instantly turned crimson.
Bi Fang asked coldly, “Where is the Chunying Sword?”
Hua Ling struggled to speak. “I told you… my family’s safety first… then I’ll give you the sword. Otherwise, kill me now, and you’ll never find the Chunying Sword…”
“You want that Heaven-grade artifact, don’t you?”
Bi Fang’s grip tightened further, and Hua Ling was on the brink of death, barely able to breathe. Yet, she refused to yield.
Just as Hua Ling was about to take her final breath, Shi Yao found it dull and waved her hand indifferently.
“Let her go.”
Bi Fang released her, and Hua Ling collapsed to the ground, coughing violently. The ornamental hairpin in her hair swayed precariously.
Shi Yao stood within Manxiang Pavilion, while outside in the wilderness, thousands of cultivators were surrounding a single person.
Changmang weaved through the crowd, slaying cultivators on its master’s behalf. The light of the Zhiyu Sword flashed brilliantly, remaining resolute and unyielding.
Shi Yao maintained a smile, though one of her hands was tightly clenched behind her back.
Even under the effects of the rosemary, Sang Dai’s sword intent remained strong. After all these years, she was still the same—losing everything, only to somehow regain more.
Bi Fang said, “Young Miss, just stay here and watch. Sang Dai can’t defeat so many people. Without that peacock here, a sword cultivator like her can’t withstand the effects of the rosemary developed by that freak from the Valley of Divine Medicine with just her spiritual energy.”
Shi Yao said nothing.
Sang Dai’s vision blurred further, and in a moment of carelessness, she was stabbed in the back.
The pain brought her some temporary clarity. She had been fighting for nearly two hours, and now the dawn was breaking.
Around her lay countless injured cultivators.
But there were still many more. The Shi family’s forces were well-trained—when the vanguard fell, reinforcements stepped in to fill their place, surrounding the sword cultivator in a tightly packed circle.
The spirit of Zhiyu called out to her consciousness.
“Master, this is endless. You need to find a way to escape. Something might have happened in the city as well. I can’t connect with Qingwu’s sword spirit.”
Sang Dai staggered, nearly collapsing to the ground. Someone seized the opportunity, swinging a sword that left a deep, bone-revealing gash on her arm.
“Master, stop fighting!”
Both Changmang and Zhiyu cried out in unison to halt her.
Sang Dai shook her head, trying to stay awake, and replied softly, “If I don’t fight, I can’t get out.”
There were too many of them.
She reversed her grip on the sword and slashed her palm, the searing pain sharpening her focus.
Her expression remained cold as she channeled spiritual energy into Zhiyu’s blade.
Massive thunderclouds began gathering from all directions, a terrifying pressure descending from above. Both Zhiyu and Changmang immediately understood what Sang Dai intended to do.
“No! You’re already weakened by the rosemary. You can’t summon that much spiritual energy to call down heavenly lightning!”
Bi Fang looked surprised. “Young Miss, you were right. She really is summoning lightning.”
Shi Yao smiled. “She’s panicking. Something’s happened in the city, and she’s lost contact with Su Xuan. She’s desperate to save him.”
Bi Fang asked, “Who’s behind it?”
Shi Yao replied, “Who else but that man and that vine?”
Bi Fang nodded. “Looks like that man wants to kill Su Xuan first. That will make dealing with Sang Dai much easier afterward.”
Shi Yao sneered coldly. “Let’s hope he truly intends to kill him.”
Suddenly, Madam Shi appeared, grabbing Shi Yao’s wrist to drag her away.
“Yao Yao, she’s summoning lightning. We need to leave.”
Shi Yao obediently agreed. “Yes, Mother.”
Bi Fang grabbed the unconscious Hua Ling off the ground, and the four of them teleported to a distant mountain peak.
Within the encirclement, Sang Dai gritted her teeth, suppressing the rising blood in her throat. She drew upon the Abyssal spiritual energy left to her by the Snow Owl. The Tianyu Stone embedded in Zhiyu’s hilt spun wildly, its golden spiritual energy flowing through the engraved patterns on the sword.
“Master!”
Sang Dai pressed her sword downward. Purple lightning descended from the heavens, striking directly onto Zhiyu’s blade without harming her.
The sword’s light, infused with thick lightning bolts, slashed out violently, unleashing an overwhelming pressure. Mountains crumbled, the earth split apart, and thick smoke and debris filled the air.
Bi Fang and Madam Shi quickly teleported even farther away with Hua Ling and Shi Yao. The mountain they had stood on moments before cracked apart, dust rising high into the sky as a thunderous roar echoed across dozens of miles.
That mountain…
It collapsed.
Madam Shi stared in disbelief. “She was poisoned by rosemary! Even if she had stepped into the Grand Ascension stage and could summon the forty-nine heavenly thunderstrikes, how could she still be this strong?”
Three thousand cultivators had surrounded her, yet she still managed to find a way to survive?
Shi Yao’s smile stiffened, her voice cold and grim. “Strong, so what? She used a vast amount of spiritual energy to suppress the effects of the rosemary, then forcefully summoned heavenly lightning. After fighting for so long, she won’t last.”
When the smoke cleared, all that remained was a battlefield littered with severely injured disciples.
The sword cultivator’s blue robes were tattered, her body marked with deep wounds that exposed bone. Her black hair was disheveled, her hair ornaments shattered, with only the nine-ringed hairpin on her bun still intact.
Standing amidst the carnage, she leaned on her sword, faint traces of lightning flickering along the blade. Sang Dai coughed lightly, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
Changmang tugged at her, urging, “Master, let me take you away!”
“Leave? Why would we?” A woman’s voice, calm yet tinged with amusement, rang out. Shi Yao smirked, her tone light. “Senior Sister, do you know why we dared to bring only three thousand men to surround and kill you?”
Even with the rosemary, even with the disciples of the Shi family of Youyun, Shi Yao had never been certain they could kill Sang Dai.
Sang Dai wiped the blood from the corner of her lips, secretly channeling spiritual energy to suppress the effects of the rosemary. Her vision was blurred, and her mind felt dizzy, making it hard to discern Shi Yao’s face.
Shi Yao laughed. “Senior Sister, you’re too soft-hearted. Knowing these disciples are merely following orders from the Shi family, you only left them severely injured. How kind of you.”
Sang Dai tightened her grip on her sword. “Disciples enter sects to cultivate and protect the peace of the common people. They may die fighting evil, or fall in battle, but they should never be forced to die for your selfish desires. They don’t deserve to die. But Shi Yao, Madam Shi, Bi Fang—you deserve to die.”
The sword cultivator spun her blade deftly, teleporting in an instant to Shi Yao’s side, her sword slicing toward the trio without hesitation.
Bi Fang yanked Shi Yao out of harm’s way and leapt to meet the attack.
Shi Yao stood beside Madam Shi, watching the fierce battle between Bi Fang and Sang Dai in the distance, and smiled. “But Senior Sister, you still haven’t asked why I dared to bring these men to kill you. Do you know what my true confidence is?”
Sang Dai raised her gaze, meeting Bi Fang’s sly grin as he faced her.
“Miss Sang,” Bi Fang said, his tone mocking, “our gamble has always been on your soft heart.”
Bi Fang swiftly retreated, stepping onto a massive rotating disc beneath his feet. Red light flowed through the lines of the array, transforming into countless red threads that pierced into the bodies of the injured disciples.
The severely wounded disciples looked at their own bodies in terror. Sang Dai had spared their lives, but now the master they trusted was taking those lives away.
“Help us! Save us!” the disciples cried out.
Sang Dai’s pupils contracted as she instinctively raised her sword to sever the red threads. But in the blink of an eye, all that was left were dried corpses scattered across the ground.
In mere moments.
There had been no time to save them.
She stood in the center of the formation, surrounded by three thousand lifeless bodies.
She was the only one alive within the array.
Sang Dai murmured, “…The Illusionary Slaughter Formation.”
Shi Yao’s voice rose triumphantly. “Senior Sister, your mistake was your softness.”
If Sang Dai had killed those disciples, their souls wouldn’t have been absorbed by the array to become the fuel for the Illusionary Slaughter Formation. The formation wouldn’t have been completed.
Sang Dai’s hands trembled as the sight of the lifeless bodies became a waking nightmare.
Madam Shi’s lips curved in a light smile. “When I entrusted you to Ying Heng, he really did raise you into this soft-hearted creature. You’re just like him. If he were here, he’d end up in the same situation. But, little Dai Dai, sometimes softness isn’t a virtue.”
Sang Dai locked eyes with Madam Shi, the woman she had called “Mother” for over a hundred years. Now, Madam Shi’s gaze was filled with mockery and cold indifference.
Was being soft-hearted a mistake?
She truly didn’t know.
At that moment, the Illusionary Slaughter Formation erupted, countless crimson lights surging toward Sang Dai in the center of the array.
Zhiyu and Changmang called out to her in fear: “Master!!”