"Not a single monster will escape alive?"
Atop the azure deep mountain's western peak stood a beautiful woman in a black gown. She faced the monstrous tide of 100,000 creatures with cold resolve, her gaze fierce and unwavering as the wind whipped her garments.
"A young man with potential, but lacking in wisdom—such a talent is useless and bound for an early death," she scoffed, showing no inclination to help, turning to depart.
"Ning, the Great Sword Revered!"
The King Elder and Shangguan Jia quickly blocked her path.
"Please, just look once more! If given the chance, Yun Xiao will surely prove himself to you!" the King Elder pleaded.
"What chance? Only 3,000 Blue Soul sword cultivators, defending a single gateway to this world, rushing headlong into a monster's nest without regard for life?" The black-clad woman sneered. "This kind of youthful 'hot-bloodedness,' a fool's errand, will only lead to ruin. Such reckless bravery is an act of sheer ignorance."
She cast a disdainful glance at the two men. One was rotund, the other rugged—a stark contrast to her own elegance and poise.
"Move aside."
Her tone was calm, yet those who knew her could tell that if these "inferior men" pestered further, her patience would wear thin.
The King Elder and Shangguan Jia shared a look of resignation.
"Alright…" They lowered their heads, sighing as they stepped back.
"Yun Xiao once competed to represent the Sword Pavilion—taking down 120 opponents," Shangguan Jia murmured.
The woman chuckled dismissively and departed, vanishing like the wind.
"Honestly," Shangguan Jia muttered, exasperated, "she's just leaving now? Showing off till the last minute."
"Twenty-two years without seeing a woman like her—Blue Soul is really worth a laugh," the King Elder sighed in irritation.
They watched her leave but dared not stop her. "Let's focus on Yun Xiao!" Shangguan Jia declared.
"Yes! We don't need her help. We can depend on ourselves!" The King Elder's resolve hardened as he looked at the 3,000 sword cultivators, his blood rising with determination.
They, too, drew their swords, ready to join the fray.
Zhao Xuanran, sighing inwardly.
"Has she come?" The female voice trembled slightly as she looked westward. But there was nothing in the distance.
"No need to think of her!" the King Elder said firmly.
"I know," Zhao Xuanran replied, hatred flashing in her eyes as she raised her gaze toward the monstrous horde. "Today, I'll slay every monster—I don't need her help."
Just then, a gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Zhao Xuanran turned to see Yun Xiao, his presence glowing like sunlight in the dimming northern wilderness. With him were the 3,000 Blue Soul sword cultivators, their spirits ablaze.
"She missed this grand spectacle—that's her regret." Yun Xiao's voice brimmed with unwavering confidence.
"Yes, Junior Brother Yun. Your Senior Sister stands with you!" Zhao Xuanran responded tenderly.
"Good!" Yun Xiao nodded.
He turned sharply as the 100,000 fiends ahead stirred, an ominous miasma rising as countless malicious intentions coalesced into a dark, swirling fog directed at their small force.
"Yuexian and her ten monster kings have vanished along with thousands of their minions," Yun Xiao noted, frowning.
"It's their tactic," Zhao Xuanran said bitterly.
"Tactic?"
"Yes! The Northern Desolate is a haven for dark forces, where even the tiniest creatures can become monsters. Small monsters lack awareness, but they're ideal for overwhelming us," she explained, her eyes burning with hatred. "Three years ago, the Northern Desolate's Monster Sovereign sacrificed 20,000 small monsters to exhaust the power of my father and seven Senior Brothers and Sisters. Only then did they strike."
The memory weighed heavily on the Sword Pavilion disciples.
"Monsters are unlike humans. Humans fear death, but these small monsters lack true sentience, making them easy to control…" Chen Dong said solemnly.
"Yuexian and the monster kings lie in wait, deep within the azure mountain. Once we've exhausted ourselves, they'll move in for the kill!"
100,000 small monsters! Even for the 3,000 sword cultivators, it would take ages to slay them all. This tactic was cunning, low, and incredibly effective—a true "monster tide" tactic of the Northern Desolate.
The mortal sword cultivators were few. But the monsters of the Northern Desolate were endless! Because of this, even the warriors of Ten Thousand Swords Sea deemed it madness to wage war on the monster nest.
The 3,000 Blue Soul sword cultivators stared at the horde, hatred and bloodlust burning within them. But even they felt a sense of helplessness.
There were simply too many!
They were human, not made of steel, with limited strength. How long could they keep this up? Who could endure such a slaughter?
Yuexian's twisted cunning was merciless—she knew no honor or justice.
"Attack!"
The demon fog surged on the azure deep mountain, blanketing the 100,000 fiends. The monsters' eyes turned scarlet, wild with bloodlust!
At Yuexian's cold command, 100,000 evil spirits shrieked and howled, charging madly toward the 3,000 sword cultivators in a deafening roar.
Rumble!
Suddenly, the ground began to crack, landslides giving way underfoot as darkness and ruin seemed to swallow the earth itself. A demonic fog of blood and poison, carried by a chilling ghost wind, blotted out the sky. The small monsters, hands clawing and faces twisted in grotesque hunger, showed no fear of death, their eyes full of greed and cruelty. The sheer ferocity of these monsters felt like ice-cold water poured over the spirits of the 3,000 Blue Soul sword cultivators.
Even Cai Maomao and Qin Tong, usually unwavering, felt their hands shake as they gripped their swords. The 100,000 fiends barreling toward them were terrifying, and all felt an instinctive shiver. Only the shadowy figure in front of them, standing tall and determined, kept their resolve from crumbling.
Yun Xiao looked calmly ahead, his eyes unwavering.
"Take to the skies with your governing swords!" he commanded suddenly.
"Governing swords?" His words snapped them out of their fear, and they immediately complied.
Buzz!
A collective hum filled the air as the 3,000 Blue Soul sword cultivators flew into the sky on their swords. In the air, they felt a brief sense of relief; after all, only about a thousand of the 100,000 monsters could actually fly.
Three years ago, Zhao Jianxing and seven Sword Pavilion elders had attempted a similar defense, but Yuexian had rallied every airborne monster to overwhelm and destroy them. This time, however, the later generation of 3,000 sword cultivators had a strategic advantage and a stronger resolve.
"Our governing swords can keep us safe! These 100,000 fiends can't reach us!" Cai Maomao shouted, his voice full of emotion.
The sacrifice of his elder brother and those who had come before now fueled the flames of courage within him and the others.
"But won't our Sword Souls weaken if we stay on our governing swords?" someone asked. "How will we defeat the fiends then?"
What kind of life-and-death battle could they fight like this, when the governing sword consumed their powers?
Just then, someone noticed: "Wait, some aren't flying!"
The sword cultivators looked down and saw, standing alone amid the writhing horde of 100,000 fiends, one resolute figure.
"Junior Brother Yun!" Even Zhao Xuanran was astonished. Yun Xiao, standing firm amidst the monsters with nothing but his sword, seemed to block their every advance.
"What kind of courage is this?!" Li Chenlong marveled.
"Junior Sister Zhao… what kind of level has he reached?" Chen Dong asked, his voice trembling.
"I don't know," Zhao Xuanran murmured, her heart pounding as she recalled that three days after he emerged from the Blue Soul Treasure Pavilion, he had casually assured her, "Senior Sister, don't worry, I'll return with the interest—15,000-fold." She still couldn't fathom how he had drawn upon the pavilion's centuries of accumulated power. But she had agreed to his secrecy, pledging that no matter what he did that day, she would support him.
"Quickly, help Yun Xiao!" someone shouted.
"No!" Zhao Xuanran blocked the others. "Wait. Let him go first! If it turns desperate, we'll intervene then," she declared firmly.
The others nodded, though puzzled, and their eyes burned with a renewed fervor. Here stood Yun Xiao, one against an army of monsters.
"Does this 100,000-strong army think it can harm even a hair on Junior Brother Yun?" Cai Maomao roared, heart ablaze.
"Attack!" they shouted in unison, as the lone figure below raised his sword, cutting through the chaos.
Three thousand governing swords soared!
Alone, Yun Xiao faced the azure mountain's dark tide of evil spirits. Cold winds howled as ominous clouds blotted out the moon. Before him surged creatures with half-beast, half-human forms, twisted by darkness into monstrous shapes.
His white robe flared like a flame as he stood, sword held high—a figure like a god descended to earth. For all who watched, it was an image seared into memory for eternity.
"Come!" he shouted.
With one mighty step, Yun Xiao launched himself forward. The earth shook beneath him, cracks splintering the ground as he moved. White as a ghost, his azure sword flashed in the dark like a hurricane, tearing through the masses.
His first strike pierced through a staggering 8,000 feet, cutting through rock, earth, and fiends alike. Nothing in its path could withstand his blade—rock shattered, blood flew, leaving a bloody road carved into the mountain.
The 3,000 Blue Soul sword cultivators watched, their eyes burning with admiration.
"His power is terrifying! What level has he reached?"
None could answer, but all were entranced as they watched his sword return to his hand, miraculously untouched by blood, all impurities consumed by his Sword Soul.
The sword seemed to whirl around him like a storm. Twenty-nine Sword Souls circled like Azure Dragons, while black rings of dark energy spun around him like shadows.
"This… this is more than Sword Soul—it's a nightmare consuming life!" Cai Maomao gasped.
Again and again, his flying sword cut through the fiends. Each stroke covered 8,000 feet in carnage. Blood and broken bones littered his path, leaving rivers of crimson as thousands fell beneath his blade.
And yet, none of the 100,000 fiends had yet reached Yun Xiao.