Chapter 2533: The Fairy’s Sword
Ai Lianjun and Princess Xuelai joined forces and, in no time at all, broke the formation inscriptions on the gate of Ghostwood Studio.
As the representative figures of the Yecha Clan and the Xianyuan Clan in this generation, their cultivation was naturally not weak, both having reached the Ten Thousand Deaths One Life Realm.
Zhang Ruochen was the first to step through the gate, entering the dimly lit manor.
What lay before him was a spine-chilling sight. The vast courtyard was overgrown with weeds and corpse soil, dotted with ancient tombstones, eerie and gloomy, resembling a dwelling place for ghost clan cultivators.
The tombstones were mottled, entwined with vines, and covered in yin-rotten flowers.
It seemed no one had lived here for many years. The tombstones were thick with spiderwebs. Blood-red spiders the size of human heads crawled across the webs. Sensing Zhang Ruochen’s powerful aura, they scurried in terror deeper into the manor.
In the distance, three or five dilapidated buildings stood, pitch-black and shrouded in a stagnant atmosphere.
Zhang Ruochen released his spiritual power, instantly enveloping the entire manor, but found nothing. Finally, his gaze fell on a two-zhang-tall stone tablet.
The vines wrapped around that stone tablet were like flood dragons, their leaves marked with vein-like patterns resembling blood vessels.
Zhang Ruochen stepped through the weeds and withered leaves toward the stone tablet. He raised his hand to push aside the vines, revealing ancient characters carved into the stone. He immediately withdrew his hand, not daring to act rashly.
Ai Lianjun, Princess Xuelai, and hundreds of armored law enforcement soldiers filed in from outside.
Ai Lianjun led the soldiers in a thorough search of the manor, leaving no corner unchecked.
Princess Xuelai noticed Zhang Ruochen’s peculiar behavior. Her eyes, as bright and clear as the moon, showed a hint of contemplation. Then, she slowly walked over to stand beside him.
Zhang Ruochen was aware of her approach but kept his eyes fixed on the stone tablet, not turning around.
Princess Xuelai’s voice was as clear as a spring, incredibly melodious. “What is the envoy looking at?”
“Do you recognize the characters on this stone tablet?” Zhang Ruochen asked in return.
Princess Xuelai examined the tablet, frowned slightly, and gently shook her head. “In the borderlands of the Hell Realm, there are countless races, connected to the Heavenly Court’s myriad realms. There may not be ten thousand types of scripts, but at least eight thousand. The characters on this tablet are strange—even spiritual power can’t decipher them.”
“These are characters carved by a deity. Your spiritual power is too weak, so of course you can’t decipher them,” Zhang Ruochen said.
Speaking so bluntly to the peerlessly beautiful Princess Xuelai was enough to provoke public outrage.
Yet Princess Xuelai showed no sign of displeasure. “In that case, we’ll dig up this stone tablet and take it back to our clan for detailed study.”
Zhang Ruochen shook his head. “A stone tablet inscribed by a deity—do you dare to move it lightly? Be careful, or you might turn to ash in an instant.”
With that, Zhang Ruochen turned and walked away, never once looking directly at Princess Xuelai, leaving her, full of ambition, with a faint sense of disappointment.
After all, this man was both an envoy of the Destiny Temple and possessed unfathomable cultivation—a figure worth wooing and befriending.
His coldness toward her clearly showed he cared nothing for her beauty and held her cultivation in low regard.
Princess Xuelai glanced back at the stone tablet, a look of wariness in her eyes. Such ancient tombs often came with various traps left by deities, so it was indeed unwise to act rashly.
Still, she didn’t believe there was anything truly remarkable inside the tomb.
If it were remarkable, how could it be buried here?
Ai Lianjun and the hundreds of Saint-level soldiers tore through the manor’s buildings, turning everything upside down, but found nothing.
Stepping out of Ghostwood Studio’s gate, Ai Lianjun gave Zhang Ruochen an awkward smile. “It seems we both received false information. This place has probably been untouched for ten thousand years.”
“It must be Heavenly Realm cultivators deliberately leading us astray. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have both traced it here.”
With that, Zhang Ruochen walked away.
Ai Lianjun wanted to invite him to the Yecha Clan as a guest, but just as he opened his mouth, Zhang Ruochen’s figure had already turned into a blur, disappearing at the street’s end.
“He’s a master from the Destiny Temple—how could he take notice of small clans like ours?” Princess Xuelai sighed softly.
Though her voice was calm and emotionless, a faint resentment stirred within her, displeased by Zhang Ruochen’s aloofness.
Zhang Ruochen wasn’t being aloof at all. He had actually discovered traces left by Ji Fanxin and wanted to cover them up as much as possible. He had no time to consider the feelings of a woman he didn’t even know.
After Ai Lianjun and Princess Xuelai left with the law enforcement soldiers, Zhang Ruochen secretly slipped back into Ghostwood Studio and returned to the two-zhang-tall stone tablet.
The characters on the tablet were indeed carved by a deity.
This script was very ancient, but Zhang Ruochen had seen it in an ancient scroll from the Shuxiang Garden Cave Heaven of Yaojue King of the Qianrui Realm, so he was sure he hadn’t found the wrong place.
Zhang Ruochen pressed his palm against the stone tablet and channeled his Saint Qi into it.
“Rustle!”
The divine inscriptions on the tablet glowed with faint light, and then a powerful suction force emerged.
Zhang Ruochen didn’t resist the pull; his body was drawn in.
It felt like passing through an invisible door, entering a dark world. The surroundings were eerily quiet, as if he had left the Hundred Clans Royal City and entered another independent space.
Calm and composed, Zhang Ruochen opened his palm, and a ball of flame appeared in it.
Before him was a dark passage leading downward.
Zhang Ruochen walked along the passage, descending. Before long, light appeared ahead, and the view opened up to reveal a seven-story ancient pagoda built into the stone wall.
The pagoda stood dozens of zhangs tall, imposing, and exuding a faint divine might.
Below the pagoda, where Zhang Ruochen now stood, was a platform a hundred zhang in both length and width. At the southwest corner of the platform grew a strange tree as thick as a water bucket, with a pitch-black trunk and leaves as red as blood, covered in shiny fruits.
The light illuminating the place came from the leaves and fruits.
On the stone wall where the pagoda stood, colorful flowers grew, each one ancient, their pollen falling like rain of light.
Zhang Ruochen took a light sniff, a joyful smile spreading across his face as he looked at the pagoda. “Zhang Ruochen has arrived. Why doesn’t the fairy show herself?”
He and Ji Fanxin were close friends, having shared many hardships. Their bond was no longer just that of allies—she could be called a confidante.
So, the prospect of seeing her filled him with joy.
This joy wasn’t because seeing her would allow him to borrow her Origin Path to find the Origin Divine Temple, but the joy of meeting an old friend in a foreign land.
But awkwardly, there was no response from the pagoda.
Zhang Ruochen came to his senses, wiped the smile off his face, and said cautiously, “I can smell the floral scent of the fairy. You’re in the pagoda, aren’t you? There are indeed some misunderstandings between us. If you open the door and meet me, I’ll explain everything.”
Still, no response from the pagoda.
Zhang Ruochen smiled wryly and walked up the long steps toward the pagoda’s door on the stone wall. “I’ll come to see the fairy myself, then.”
He had only climbed halfway up the steps when a strong surge of Saintly energy erupted from above. A fist-sized pink light mass condensed out of thin air and flew toward him.
“Boom!”
The pink light mass exploded, scattering into countless petals that shot out like lightning.
Startled, Zhang Ruochen quickly pressed his hands forward, freezing the space in front of him into an invisible shield.
“Rumble!”
The petals carried far more power than Zhang Ruochen had anticipated, quickly piercing through the frozen space.
“So powerful?”
Zhang Ruochen unleashed his Purifying Divine Flame while leaping backward, landing back on the platform at the bottom of the steps.
Most of the petals were burned to ash by the divine flame.
A few passed through the flames and continued flying. Zhang Ruochen dodged, avoiding the vital points.
Even so, a strand of his hair was severed, and a petal grazed past his neck.
“Is the cultivator in the pagoda really Ji Fanxin? She can’t be this strong. Could there be another expert from the Qianrui Realm with her? That shouldn’t be.”
Even though Zhang Ruochen trusted Ji Fanxin, he now grew wary.
From the pagoda came a familiar, heavenly voice: “Isn’t the Ruochen Divine Son supposed to be an Eon-level genius, wreaking havoc on the Heaven Hunting Battlefield? How is it you only have this much skill?”
Zhang Ruochen caught the sarcasm in Ji Fanxin’s words and smiled bitterly. “Other cultivators can’t understand me, but can’t the fairy either?”
Ji Fanxin didn’t appear. Her voice drifted out again. “Dozens of cultivators from my Qianrui Realm were killed by you on the Heaven Hunting Battlefield. How do you expect me to understand you? Do you know that in the Qianrui Realm alone, countless cultivators have petitioned to kill you?”
“Since the fairy sees me this way, why risk coming to the Hundred Clans Royal City?” Zhang Ruochen still refused to believe Ji Fanxin viewed him like others.
“I came to kill you, to avenge the fallen cultivators of the Qianrui Realm, to avenge all the Heavenly Realm cultivators you’ve slain. I’ll cut off your head and take it back to wash away the stain of having known you.”
Ji Fanxin, dressed in white and veiled, appeared on the third floor of the pagoda.
“Whoosh!”
She descended like a stunning swan, a holy maiden of Brahma, her black hair flowing like a waterfall. Even the eyes above her veil were ten times more beautiful than Princess Xuelai’s, enough to captivate any man in the world.
Amid a rain of flowers, she descended from above, her sword thrusting straight at Zhang Ruochen’s brow.
Zhang Ruochen retreated rapidly, but Ji Fanxin’s sword suddenly doubled in speed, reaching his eyes in an instant, filled with sword light.
He swung his right arm to meet the sword, shifting left to dodge.
“Fairy, is there really a need for us to cross swords? Can you give me a chance to explain?” Zhang Ruochen said.
Ji Fanxin pressed on relentlessly. “Beat me, and I’ll give you that chance. Otherwise, you’ll die by my sword.”
With a swish, her sword technique changed, conjuring a divine lotus of sword energy that struck Zhang Ruochen’s chest, sending him flying dozens of zhang backward. His demigod-level physical body couldn’t withstand it.
Zhang Ruochen rubbed his aching chest, having already sensed that there was no killing intent in Ji Fanxin’s sword—she didn’t truly want to kill him. So, he said seriously, “Then I’ll have a good fight with the fairy.”