This was a very eerie scene.
This ten-mile-long street was one of the busiest places in the city.
The crowd flowed like a river; the road was bustling with the traffic of carriages and horses.
Every moment encapsulated the myriad states of life and the hubbub of the marketplace.
At the end of the street, there was a wedding procession slowly turning from the north: a bridal sedan led the way for the bride, followed by the groom on a jujube-red horse; behind the horse was a porter carrying the bride's dowry, with someone in front holding a box of the bride's toiletries.
In the middle of the road, a large palanquin carried by eight was escorted past by dozens of attendants who looked haughty, and passersby hurriedly made way, fearing they might offend someone of high status.
But at this moment, the most eye-catching sight on the street was neither of these two groups.
It was instead the bizarre scene on the side of the road between them.
A little boy in a red cotton-padded jacket stood motionless with his head lowered, gripping a half-eaten stick of ice sugar hawthorn, his sugar-coated lips slightly upturned, his black and white eyes clear like exquisite glazed beads, reflecting the withered hand that pierced into his chest.
The little boy, who had been engulfed in red light just a second ago, now showed not a trace of it within him.
At present, his small body was like a piece of exquisitely fragile porcelain, covered in heart-stopping cracks. The dense runes that had extinguished still tattooed his pale skin, bearing witness to their one-time existence.
Many people around had looked over, having seen the red light with their own eyes, but they showed no surprise. The terrifying power that had built up to its climax did not scare them in the slightest; it was as though everything happening was just a common occurrence in their daily lives, so familiar that it no longer drew special attention, much like how you might routinely glance over a flowerpot outside the window, never giving it another thought.
Their gazes naturally moved on, their faces still wearing the expressions triggered by the last event, weird and wonderful.
The crowd by the hawthorn stall began to disperse, since there was no longer anyone selling hawthorn; children from poor families looked longingly at the half-eaten stick of sugar hawthorn in the little boy's hand, swallowing hard a few times before reluctantly leaving.
Crack.
A crisp sound rang out.
Chi Yu's pupils dilated and contracted; he slowly lifted his head in a death-like rally.
Before his eyes was a dark, swarthy face.
It was the same old man with the black face who had given him the hawthorn just now, still full of smiles, looking like an honest farmer.
He opened his mouth, but the withered hand that had been clutching his demon core simply withdrew nonchalantly, and the last words he wanted to say disappeared with his Nascent Soul, turning into specks of light that scattered with the wind.
Thus, a Great Demon of the Sixth Realm, rare even in the mountains across several continents, fell silently.
The old man with the black face looked at the demon core in his hand—it was pitch black with red glimmers, and its dense cracks no longer discernible; the number of Heavenly Traces on it could not be seen, making it impossible to determine the grade of the demon core.
But the old man was not overly concerned; he pocketed the core and transmitted a few words to his two juniors with his mind, then he stood idly by with his hands behind his back, wearing a smile and narrowing his eyes.
There seemed to be some kind of temple fair happening in the city today, so the streets became more crowded. The old man with the black face realized his hawthorn stall was obstructing people's way, so he moved it to a more secluded spot. When people asked if he was still selling hawthorn, he nodded with a smile and began selling the ice sugar hawthorn again.
...
Following his uncle-master's orders, Zhao Qianqiu was hurriedly heading to Zhi Shui Country's Mountain and Water Cave, ready to capture that beast's partner.
But suddenly, he received another message from his uncle-master. After a brief consideration, he quickly turned around and returned.
...
In a certain mountainside amidst the ranges, a massive, deep crater was created by a black object that had fallen from the sky.
Dust billowed, and giant trees tumbled down.
A palace-dressed woman was standing on an ancient tree that had survived next to a huge pit.
A handleless small sword flew out from the pit.
This sword was crystal clear and very strange. A jade pendant dangled from the end where the hilt should have been.
Now that the handleless flying sword had returned, it did not sheathe itself but rather spiritedly inserted itself between the hair bun of the palace-dressed woman.
It became a Step-shaking ornament.
Yi Qianyan frowned as she looked at the remains of the Black Flood Dragon in the pit.
Just as she had followed it here, before she could strike with her sword, the beast had plunged to its death on its own.
She cut open the Demon Flood Dragon's Dantian to check, and as expected, there was neither a Demon Core nor a Nascent Soul.
"So, did this beast leave its Nascent Soul in the previous mortal city secretly?" she murmured to herself. "Heh, it doesn't matter, the Great Minister of Punishment is waiting for you there, though I don't know whether he managed to lure out those sneaky characters behind you."
However, she was not too worried. After all, the Great Minister of Punishment was one of the few Seventh Realm Sword Cultivators in Wangque Continent, possessing a myriad of Divine Secret Skills, not to mention the profound and miraculous Divine Ability of his Lifebound Flying Sword, which was utterly astonishing.
A Seventh Realm Sword Immortal like the Great Minister of Punishment was the focus of much attention in the Cultivation World. The name and Divine Skills of his Lifebound Flying Sword had been "exposed" long ago, spreading across certain circles.
The Lifebound Flying Sword of the Great Minister of Punishment, named Yi Ma, was given a Class B-upper Grade assessment by the Taia Sword Pavilion. It possessed unique Divine Abilities.
According to Yi Qianyan, Yi Ma could freely traverse the Heart Lakes of others, arbitrarily sever their thoughts, or cause them to be unable to restrain the flood of their thoughts, stirring up countless ideas. Moreover, Yi Ma could carry a grain of the master's consciousness, allowing them to peer into the Heart Lakes of others.
The use of this Flying Sword Divine Ability was extremely subtle. Just imagine, if one wanted to hear an enemy's secrets, they only needed to make the enemy's thoughts rise chaotically when they are unprepared and their consciousness is lax. Then, by using Yi Ma to sever those distracting thoughts and retaining only the one needed, Yi Ma could successfully steal the secrets hidden in someone's heart.
And if this was used in combat, by using Yi Ma to predict an enemy's next move or severing their critical thought, one could easily imagine the immense effect it would have on a dangerous and precise battle situation.
This sort of Flying Sword Divine Ability, which could move through the Heart Lake of others, listen to their thoughts, and to some extent, manipulate their ideas, seemed incredible to Yi Qianyan. What surprised her was that, despite such a Divine Ability, the Taia Sword Pavilion only rated it as Class B-upper, not making it into Class A.
Yi Qianyan speculated that there must be some limitations and restraints on this Lifebound Flying Sword's Divine Ability; it might not be as exaggerated as it sounded.
But regardless, Class A or Class B Lifebound Flying Swords were beyond Yi Qianyan's reach. Even though she was considered a Nascent Soul Realm Sword Cultivator who had achieved a great deal in the eyes of others, the Grade of a Lifebound Flying Sword was purely a matter of fate, much like one's aptitude for Cultivation. Some people were born as the favored ones, galloping ahead of others, while some could only stand at the foot of the mountain, not only unable to catch up but even lacking the qualifications to climb.
Most of the time in cultivation, innate talent is more important than postnatal efforts!
Thinking of this, she also remembered the Zhao family's young man who had been killed by this beast.
She felt quite regretful.
She had seen that young man several times, and although she was not a Law Enforcement Cultivator of the Punishment Mansion and had only come this time because she happened to be close by when called for help by the Great Minister, like Great Minister's closed-door disciples and the prodigies of the Sword Pavilion, she still took the opportunity to pay attention to them. After all, as long as they did not perish prematurely, these disciples who were heavily nurtured by their sects would almost certainly grow into the pillars of the Sword Pavilion and work alongside her. Making their acquaintance in advance and presenting some "little treasures" might forge a good relationship.
That Zhao family's young man was indeed remarkable, ranking at the top in several sect competitions, and it appeared that he still had some hidden talents. It was said that he had two Lifebound Flying Swords, both of high Grades. As for how high exactly, the Great Minister did not elaborate, but judging by his gleeful expression, at least one of them should be Class B.
But then again, a genius is called a genius because they have not yet grown up. She had seen many such pre-maturely fallen talents before and could only remind herself to be extremely cautious when nurturing her own disciples in the future.
However, the Zhao family was indeed in the prime of their Sword Dao's fortune.
Apart from the fallen Zhao family's young man, it was said that there was a Zhao family girl in the Taiching Four Mansions who entered the Tranquility Mansion at the age of sixteen; alas, I had only joined the Tranquility Mansion from the Fu Yao Mansion through the standard procedures after reaching the Heavenly Will Realm. Those who could enter the mansion early were truly monstrous.
Seriously, are the young people of today all so fierce?
After a while, as if she had received some message, her eyebrows relaxed. She took out a Prisoner Dragon Net from her Sumeru Object and captured the Demon Flood Dragon's remains inside.
Immediately after, the "Step-shaking" ornament slid down from the top of her head, and with a flash of the sword light, she was gone in an instant.
She left behind a scene of chaos and a huge pit. One could imagine that after several heavy rains, this place would become a clear pond once again.