The Transmigrator's Cultivation

Chapter 135 - Arc 10: The Affairs of Sword Cave | Chapter 135: Assassin

Translator: Lynn

Luckily, Xu Ziqing had honed his skills in the Five Elements Wind Gust for an extensive period of time, enabling him to react with remarkable speed to external threats. Almost instantly perceiving the chill, he deftly flipped his palms and wielded the steel wooden sword with a reversed grip, positioning it protectively in front of his neck.

A resounding clash reverberated as their weapons collided, effectively blocking the attack from a hair’s breadth away.

Appearing caught off guard by Xu Ziqing’s evasion, the slender assailant exhibited a momentary lapse, granting Xu Ziqing an opening.

Always being on the defensive was not Xu Ziqing’s style.

A swift realization coursed through Xu Ziqing’s being, and he executed a forceful thrust, propelling the sword’s tip to burst forth with a thunderous boom.

Brilliance dazzled and surged, accompanied by howling gusts, as overwhelming momentum enveloped the area. Within the sword’s wake, an aura reminiscent of unbridled infernos raged, scorching everything in its path.

Undoubtedly a skilled adversary, the initially bewildered, skinny man quickly regained his composure when confronted with the glint of the blade. He executed a wrist flick, and his rapier, akin to a venomous serpent, darted forth with a peculiar, unpredictable arc.

Maintaining his composure, Xu Ziqing slightly adjusted his stance while transitioning his sword maneuver. In the blink of an eye, his technique transformed from forceful to supple, akin to ethereal vines that ensnared the venomous serpent, encircling it twice to defuse its impending strike.

Though confined to the four foundational sword techniques, Xu Ziqing’s capacity to read his adversary’s movements allowed him to anticipate their assault. While the skinny man showcased impressive swordsmanship, Xu Ziqing’s indomitable spirit remained unfazed.

Following consecutive exchanges of fierce strikes, the skinny man relinquished his arrogance, recognizing Xu Ziqing’s prowess.

Initially perceiving Xu Ziqing as a mere novice, possibly propelled by his association with the newly ascended Master Yun, the skinny man had assumed Xu Ziqing’s skills were unremarkable. However, Xu Ziqing’s displayed swordsmanship was far from ordinary. The skinny man pondered whether the tales surrounding the genuine Chu He were mere fabrications designed to obscure the fact that he had been cultivated by the true Master Yun.

Contemplating this possibility, a surge of murderous intent enveloped the skinny man. If his hypothesis held true, Xu Ziqing’s fate was sealed. Agile as a spirit serpent, he contorted his form and unleashed a cascade of attacks, each split into multiple sword shadows, ensnaring Xu Ziqing from all angles.

Have you ever wondered why this slender man, Pan Hong, holds such intense animosity towards Yun Lie? It’s not baseless.

This wiry individual goes by the name Pan Hong, and he possesses grand aspirations. However, it’s unfortunate that he began as a casual cultivator, eventually working his way into the outer ranks of the Wuling Immortal Sect through immense hardships. After years of careful scheming, he managed to secure a place within the inner sect. Regrettably, his aptitude only falls slightly above average, and his entry into the inner sect was belated, causing him to be categorized as an ordinary disciple. With no genuine master willing to mentor him, his self-regard refused to accept this fate.

Pan Hong, being far from reticent, didn’t acquiesce to this situation. Within the inner sect, he divided his time between diligent practice and plotting his ascent. As his cultivation progressed, his ambitions and ruthlessness grew in tandem. Gradually, he forged alliances, positioning himself as a “cleaner” for influential insiders who preferred discretion, consequently amassing considerable benefits.

With familiarity came insight into the illustrious disciples’ dynamics. Observing individuals less qualified than himself reap generous resources due to their influential connections frustrated Pan Hong. In response, he embarked on a path of disparagement, aligning himself with the disgruntled and murmuring disapproval about the esteemed disciples. In this chorus of criticism, Yun Lie’s name arose repeatedly.

The narrative triggered a vivid memory for Pan Hong.

Rumor held that Yun Lie, despite possessing only dual spiritual roots, marginally exceeded Pan Hong in terms of potential. Yet, fortune smiled upon Yun Lie. Anointed as a disciple by the Golden Core Daoist from birth, he even became the sole direct disciple. This stark contrast struck a nerve with Pan Hong, a lifelong sect resident who perceived himself as Yun Lie’s equal in many aspects. The paradox of why Yun Lie, so favored by destiny, should succeed with ease while Pan Hong struggled, seeded jealousy within him.

Of course, jealousy wasn’t the only sentiment harbored by Pan Hong. In his eyes, Yun Lie’s chosen path, the Way of Ruthless Killing swordsmanship, appeared foolhardy and unprecedented. While others shied away from such a ruthless and bloodthirsty style, Pan Hong viewed it as a display of folly. After all, who could thrive on a path seemingly destined for premature death? He scoffed at Yun Lie’s potential breakthroughs and sword intent cultivation, convinced that following such a path would lead to Yun Lie’s eventual doom—history repeating itself with another fallen disciple.

While envy coursed through Pan Hong’s veins, his disdain for Yun Lie served as an outlet for his own pent-up grievances.

Pan Hong never anticipated that Yun Lie, who had been stuck at this point for over a decade, would actually make a breakthrough!

Pan Hong made numerous inquiries and discovered that Yun Lie had likely been assisted by an outsider. It seemed that luck defied the odds, propelling him into the realm of the Golden Core, securing him the fifth spot on the Tianlong list, and positioning him as the foremost among the top ten core disciples.

Enveloped with a multitude of accolades, Pan Hong believed he wasn’t inferior to Yun Lie in terms of qualifications and diligence. He even considered his understanding to be deeper than Yun Lie’s. The title of “master” was almost spat out through clenched teeth, his anger twisting his insides into a knot.

Yun Lie, that Yun Lie… His resentment was palpable, but even that wasn’t enough to quell the jealousy that churned within him.

This time, Pan Hong took on a task: to eliminate a man named Xu Ziqing from Xiaozhu Peak.

At the mere mention, he surmised that it was those country folks who aided Yun Lie. This realization brought him great satisfaction. However, he hadn’t expected the aloof Yun Lie to concern himself with Xu Ziqing. Even if Xu Ziqing resided on Yun Lie’s Xiaolu Peak, Pan Hong assumed it was at the behest of Xiaozhu Peak’s owner. There were eight residents at the peak, and it wasn’t uncommon for a female disciple to be housed separately from two male disciples. After all, Xu Ziqing had assisted Yun Lie, and Yun Lie had requested his master to take Xu Ziqing in. Thus, their arrangements were settled. Nevertheless, Xu Ziqing was still Yun Lie’s junior brother, so adding an obstacle for Yun Lie brought Pan Hong great satisfaction.

Subsequently, Pan Hong inquired and learned that Yun Lie had been instructed by his master to guide Xu Ziqing in practicing within the sword cave. A sly glint filled his eyes as he realized this was his chance.

Pan Hong’s cultivation had reached the late stage of foundation establishment, a mere hair’s breadth away from the Huayuan period. He pondered, with his level of strength, wouldn’t it be simple to deal with a junior in the middle stage of foundation establishment? Thus, Xu Ziqing’s tenacity took him aback.

However, he understood that the true expertise of Qiu He lay in earth-attribute cultivation, not swordsmanship. Only Yun Lie possessed the skills to shape Xu Ziqing like this.

In essence, Yun Lie held his junior brother in high regard, rather than discarding him once his use was fulfilled. Would Yun Lie not be saddened by Xu Ziqing’s demise? With this thought, Pan Hong became eager to act.

Kill Xu Ziqing! It was imperative! Pan Hong licked his lips, his eyes dancing with anticipation, his restraint waning rapidly.

How could Xu Ziqing fathom that Pan Hong’s mind churned with such thoughts as he drew breath? He remained oblivious to the depth of jealousy harbored by his senior brother. Currently, all his focus centered on perceiving the five ethereal sword shadows before him, endeavoring to ascertain their origins.

The arrival of these elusive sword shadows left him in a quandary—dodging one would inevitably entangle him with another; such a tactic was undoubtedly unwise. After careful contemplation, he reached a resolution.

“If hiding is futile, then I shall not hide!”

With steely resolve, Xu Ziqing fixed his gaze, inhaled deeply, and his right arm trembled at an astonishing pace.

“Clang clang clang clang clang!”

The ensuing sequence of sounds resembled pearls cascading onto a porcelain dish—each note crisp and saturated with an aura of lethal intent.

Pan Hong’s excitement surged even higher. His mastery lay in the “Poisonous Dragon Swordsmanship,” an art characterized by its cunning and eccentric swordplay. Concurrently, his footwork adhered to the “Spiritual Snake’s Hundred Steps.”

The “Poisonous Dragon Sword Technique” stood as a treacherous approach, its sword movements intricate and elusive, rendering defense a daunting task. Meanwhile, the “Spiritual Snake’s Hundred Steps” surpassed in complexity. When honed to mastery, it enabled a practitioner to mimic a snake concealed within mountains, moving unpredictably yet striking with precision within a hundred paces.

The synergy between the two was formidable. Pan Hong employed this amalgamation of sword techniques, footwork, and stealth tactics with ruthless intent, leading many monks even stronger than himself to their demise by his hand.

At this moment, it was Xu Ziqing who marveled at the potency of these techniques!

Observing the rapier’s movements, one could perceive its artful grace. Every angle seemed to defy anticipation, and each strike launched with heightened velocity. The rapier’s form morphed into a myriad of snake-like shadows that descended upon Xu Ziqing like an unrelenting downpour.

Concurrently, Pan Hong’s footwork adopted an unconventional pattern.

In this sequence of steps, his silhouette multiplied from one to two, then from two to four, and further from four to eight, a progression that continued without end. Swaying left and right, his once stocky frame took on a newfound litheness. Within this expanse, it appeared as though countless identical silhouettes manifested, alternating between inversion and transformation in an infinite array of forms.

Soon after, Pan Hong’s manifold figures adopted the semblance of spirit serpents, weaving amongst the profusion of snake-like shadows. His appearance was reminiscent of a human yet not entirely human, akin to a snake yet not wholly a snake. The boundary between human and serpent blurred beyond distinction.

In an instant, Xu Ziqing felt an onslaught of sword shadows blanketing the sky, an overwhelming pressure closing in from all sides. It seemed that regardless of the direction he evaded, a lethal strike awaited from another quarter the moment he blocked the former!

A sense of inevitability pervaded the situation, a sense of certain doom rather than survival.

Yet, Xu Ziqing’s perspective shifted. If he were to break free from this predicament, he needed to discern the authentic from the illusory. When the opportunity presented itself, the lifelike visage of Pan Hong would unveil this maneuver.

Almost immediately, he extended his spiritual consciousness, enshrouding his surroundings, aiming to differentiate the true figure from the counterfeit. Beneath the influence of his divine awareness, all details lay bare. The faintest discrepancy would be perceptible in an instant.

However, Xu Ziqing underestimated Pan Hong’s proficiency. After all, any practitioner above the foundational stage possessed spiritual consciousness. If deciphering vulnerabilities were that straightforward, how could this amalgamation of swordplay and footwork be renowned as a survival technique?

Thus, Xu Ziqing was taken aback to discover that even under the guidance of his divine sense, discerning actuality from illusion remained an insurmountable challenge.

With no other recourse, confrontation was inevitable.

In this pivotal juncture, Xu Ziqing’s state of mind mirrored an ancient well—tranquil, devoid of ripples. His determination resounded: “I shall not meet my end here. While severe injury may befall me, I shall unravel this inescapable predicament!”

Having resolved to confront the situation head-on, Xu Ziqing exhibited an unexpected move by propelling himself forward.

“If evasion is futile, then endurance it shall be!”

With unwavering determination, Xu Ziqing’s thoughts were lucid as he swiftly sifted through the repertoire of sword techniques he had acquired in recent days. Ultimately, he sensed a harmonious fusion between his body and the steel and wooden sword. Utilizing his own body as an extension of the blade, he cast aside the fear of death.

A subdued grunt escaped Xu Ziqing’s lips. His body bore several gashes, each oozing blood, yet the steel and wooden sword in his grip managed to disrupt the rhythm of the serpentine rapier.

He had escaped!

This turn of events profoundly unsettled Pan Hong.

Throughout the years of honing this sword technique to perfection, none had managed to elude his assassination. Yet today, a golden-haired youth in the middle stage of foundation establishment had cracked it open. It was inconceivable!

Unperturbed by Pan Hong’s astonishment, Xu Ziqing focused solely on his escape strategy. Recognizing his inability to match this adversary, he seized the opportunity to dash towards a more populous area, deferring deeper contemplation for later. Acting on instinct, he sprinted ahead.

In the instant of his flight, Pan Hong regained his composure, his features contorted as he bellowed, “Where do you think you’re running!”

With these words, he hurled the rapier with formidable force.

A chill wind grazed Xu Ziqing’s back, galvanizing him to hasten his pace.

Yet the sword drew nearer!

In a fleeting moment, the periphery of his vision caught sight of a dark cavity nearby.

Time was of the essence!

Gritting his teeth, Xu Ziqing propelled himself into a leap, plunging into the abyss just as the sword reached him.

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