Thousands of New Ascenders, including their Guiding Envoys, had been slaughtered. Angels from Heaven were responsible.
When Fengyun Wuji learned this from Xiao Fei, the flames of rage in his heart, which had somewhat subsided, blazed fiercely anew. Where Heaven was located, no one knew, Fengyun Wuji included. Though his fury knew no bounds, he managed to keep his reason. The highest-ranking angels Heaven had deployed were merely Two-Winged Battle Angels; no higher echelons had made an appearance. How truly formidable these angels were, or their superiors, Fengyun Wuji had no clue. The only piece of intelligence available was that Heaven's angelic host numbered around ten billion, a figure that never fluctuated. Even the Demon Fiend factions regarded Heaven's might with considerable apprehension.
The Demon Fiends were already terrifyingly powerful, yet Heaven clearly held an edge over them, a testament to its profound strength. A crushing sense of desolation and helplessness seized his heart, forcing Fengyun Wuji to bury his rage deep within.
After entrusting all matters of the Sword Pavilion to Chi Shang, Fengyun Wuji, clad in a flowing white robe, departed like a drifting cloud. This time, he sought a particular individual, an unparalleled swordsman – Ximen Yibei.
A forest of icy peaks stood sentinel, each stretching over a thousand zhang into the frigid air. The wind howled, and a blanket of white snow began to drift across the land. From the sky, a figure as graceful as a startled swan descended slowly, landing proudly atop one of these colossal ice spires, braving the wind. Who else could it be but Fengyun Wuji?
Fengyun Wuji made no deliberate effort to suppress his aura. A commanding and potent sword intent enveloped the entire Youming Peak region for a thousand li. Within a three-foot radius of him, snowflakes passing by would automatically coalesce into fine ice needles, hover for a moment, then plummet straight down beside him, falling to the base of the thousand-zhang peak far below.
Youming Peak was a sacred ground of the Evil Path. Although Fengyun Wuji was not one of them, he was, nominally at least, a disciple of the Cold Pond Sky Demon, You Wuxie. Perhaps few had taken him seriously back then, coveting at most the Profound Nether Scrolls he possessed. But ever since Fengyun Wuji's exploits in the Blade Domain had shaken the world, everyone in the Evil Path had begun to pay attention to him. And upon his return from the Demon Realm, the entire Primeval Continent had been stirred. How could the Evil Path cultivators near Youming Peak not know that the once malleable New Ascender was now an Emperor-level master, a Sword Emperor, counted among the most formidable figures in the entire Primeval Continent?
Fengyun Wuji's expression was calm, yet tinged with a subtle melancholy and world-weariness. His white robe whipped about in the cold wind, making him seem as if he might vanish with the breeze at any moment.
Under the oppressive might of the Sword Emperor's realm, all the Evil Path cultivators on Youming Peak walked on eggshells. Rumors of how the Night Tribe had recently been single-handedly annihilated by one man had long since made them understand: though this disciple of the Cold Pond Sky Demon was not of the Evil Path, his methods were no gentler. Until their strength could match his, the typically opportunistic Evil Path cultivators were naturally unwilling to stir up trouble, let alone dream of snatching the Profound Nether Scrolls.
An immensely powerful spiritual sense erupted from Fengyun Wuji, sweeping repeatedly over every movement within a thousand-li radius. As his consciousness passed, every Evil Path cultivator scanned turned pale with fright, fearing this ruthless Sword Emperor had come for them. Fortunately, the dominant spiritual sense merely flickered past before sweeping onwards. Fengyun Wuji clearly had no interest in these Evil Path cultivators, whose power levels were merely in the millions. He was searching for only one person: Ximen Yibei.
"You've come," Fengyun Wuji said, gazing ahead. Silence reigned behind him, not a sound to be heard.
"Yes, I've come. I never truly left, except for that one time." Behind Fengyun Wuji, a man in a grey robe, the Right Protector of the Dao Lord of Annihilation's Void Shattering Display, approached with slow steps. As he walked, strands of hair across his forehead swayed, revealing eyes that flickered in and out of view—eyes completely white, devoid of pupils.
"Does the Dao Lord of Annihilation intend to send only you to deal with me?"
"No. This isn't the Dao Lord's will, but my own. Do you remember my promise? Four hundred years it has been, and I have finally mastered the Windless Sword!"
"The Windless Sword?" Fengyun Wuji murmured, a slight 'hmph' escaping him, but he didn't elaborate. With his hands clasped behind his back, he tilted his head up. "I didn't expect you to actually master that Art of Concealing Wind. It is indeed surprising."
A long sigh came from behind him. The grey-robed man spoke, "I know that even if I've mastered the Wind-Concealing Sword, I am no match for you now. But I must still draw my sword. We must still fight."
A glint of admiration flashed in Fengyun Wuji's eyes. He finally turned to face the grey-robed man. "Tell me your name."
"With your status as an Emperor-level master, you indeed have that right. My name… it's been a long time since anyone asked. Only I still remember it. My true name is Dugu Piao. Make your move!"
"Dugu Piao? Heh." Fengyun Wuji's voice was resonant. "Though you once nearly killed me, I also benefited from it, managing to break through the first layer of the Nine Revolutions Life and Death Profound Art. When you count it all up, there's no real enmity between us; you were merely following orders. I don't wish to make things difficult for you, and you are no match for me. Retreat. If possible, I hope you might consider joining my Sword Domain." The last sentence was his true purpose. Dugu Piao's swordsmanship was exceedingly strange, concise yet lethal. But undoubtedly, he was also a master of the sword path; otherwise, he wouldn't have become the Right Protector of the Annihilation Temple. The Sword Domain, at this moment, was most in need of experts.
"I cannot leave the Annihilation Temple," Dugu Piao stated calmly. "If you won't strike, then I will."
"Then strike," Fengyun Wuji said indifferently.
Dugu Piao's right hand rested on the scabbard of his sword. His head was slightly lowered, his body leaning forward, poised as if he could draw his blade at any moment.
Cling-ng-ng!
The longsword hanging at Dugu Piao's waist suddenly began to tremble violently, emitting waves of resonant hums. Dugu Piao's expression changed, his hand gripping the scabbard shaking fiercely. Channeling his true Qi, he abruptly gripped the hilt and pulled outwards.
Shhnnk! A sliver of cold light tore through the air. From the black scabbard, a section of the sharp blade was revealed. But after drawing it merely a foot or so, he could pull it no further. The entire sword vibrated intensely.
Dugu Piao finally raised his head, his entirely white eyes fixed ölümcül bir şekilde on Fengyun Wuji. His grey robe billowed without wind, and his long hair flew about. An unparalleled sword intent erupted from within him, and the very air around him seemed to distort, the scenery blurring.
Fengyun Wuji looked up at Dugu Piao, then suddenly, his right foot extended from beneath his robe and slowly took a single step forward.
Tzzt!
This sound did not originate from the void, but from the depths of the soul. In Dugu Piao's perception, as Fengyun Wuji took that step, the sword intent in the surrounding space surged explosively.
Clang! With a sharp cry from the sword, the half-drawn blade was forcefully pushed back into its scabbard.
"No one," Fengyun Wuji stated calmly, looking at Dugu Piao, "can draw their sword before the Sword Emperor."