A long silence lingered before the nameless gravestone.
The bloody events of a thousand years ago had been laid bare—who was truly at fault? Was Kunlun to blame? The hatred between the immortals and demons had lasted for millennia, and they summoned their only disciple back to guard the immortal realm, sealing his memories and disregarding human ethics. Yet, for the Kunlun sect leader and elders of that time, it was all to protect the peace of the immortal world.
Or was Rong Xian at fault? As an immortal, he fell in love with a demon, torn between loyalty to his sect and devotion to his family. In the end, he mistakenly killed his own daughter and drove his wife to despair.
“Who was wrong? Who was wrong, Ling Long? Was it me, or was it Heaven that was wrong?” The hunched figure before the gravestone bent over, asking in a raspy voice.
Clouds covered the moon, and chaotic energy began radiating from Rong Xian, sending a chill through the nameless mountain. A deep, mournful sound, almost a roar, escaped from his throat, filling the air with a strange, frigid presence. Before anyone could react, he suddenly turned around.
“Blood… Ling Long and Xin’er, they were covered in blood.” Rong Xian stretched out his hands, showing them to the crowd with a crazed look in his eyes. “Master, elders, look! My hands are soaked in their blood. I killed them with my own hands—all for the sake of your so-called immortality, for your Kunlun!”
“What the—? Why’s he losing it on us? The Kunlun elders died a thousand years ago!” Mu Jiu glanced around nervously, shivering.
“This is bad,” Bai Shuo murmured, “Chief Ling Long’s tragic death has reignited the murderous rage buried in Sect Leader Rong Xian’s heart. He’s trapped in memories of the ancient battlefield. To him, we’re the Kunlun elders and sect leader from back then!”
“What?!” Mu Jiu scowled, shouting toward Bei Chen, “You dead-eyed Kunlun sword cultivators… ah!”
Before Mu Jiu could finish, Rong Xian swung his hand, and the white iron sword embedded in the ground suddenly rose, slashing toward the group with overwhelming sword energy. Fan Yue grabbed Bai Shuo without hesitation and leapt into the air. Chong Zhao, a moment too late, took the full brunt of the sword energy, grunting as he staggered back several steps.
At that moment, Bei Chen rushed forward, summoning Kunlun sword energy to form a small barrier around the group.
“Master! Stop!” Bei Chen struggled to maintain the barrier, attempting to bring Rong Xian to his senses. “Please, wake up—the former sect leader is long gone!”
“Yelling won’t help! Can’t you see he’s gone mad?!” Mu Jiu yelled, dodging the sword energy as he ducked and weaved behind Bei Chen.
“They’re dead… so why are you still alive?!” Rong Xian’s voice dripped with malice as he advanced toward them, murderous intent in his eyes.
With each step he took, his iron sword swung down, chipping away at Bei Chen’s protective barrier. Before he even reached them, cracks appeared, and powerful energy seeped through, tearing at everyone’s clothing.
“Bei Chen, you Kunlun sword cultivators are all insane! Why should I, a demon, have to die for your immortal realm’s mistakes?!” Mu Jiu jumped frantically behind Bei Chen, avoiding the sword energy with an outraged shout.
As the sword light came crashing down, Bei Chen’s barrier shattered, sending everyone sprawling to the ground, coughing up blood. With a deadly gaze, Rong Xian raised his iron sword once more, directing the full might of his peak immortal power toward them.
“A-Shuo!” Chong Zhao struggled to rise, attempting to shield Bai Shuo.
“Mu Mu, watch out!” Bai Shuo instinctively closed her eyes, a sense of emptiness in her heart, and hugged Fan Yue beside her, placing herself in front of the sword energy.
Chong Zhao’s eyes widened, his outstretched hand freezing mid-air.
In that same instant, Fan Yue turned Bai Shuo’s body around without hesitation, shielding her with his own back against the oncoming sword energy.
Just as the sword energy was about to strike them, a flash of red light erupted, accompanied by a deafening crash, as countless fragments of sword energy turned to dust.
Rong Xian dropped heavily to the ground, his Kunlun iron sword falling beside him.
The group, narrowly escaping death, stared in confusion at the scene ahead. Standing before them was none other than Hua Da Tie, holding an iron staff. The ostentatiously dressed, powdered face of Hua Da Tie was pointed forward, his iron staff pressed against the head of the Kunlun sword cultivator.
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