Chapter 157: Appearance of the West Gorge Sect

“Clang!”

A piercing crash of metal rang across the entire arena.

“Pfft!”

Wen Song spat blood as his body was hurled backward. His longsword flew back with him.

At the critical moment, Wen Song had struck. The Golden Flame Sword in his hand tore through the air and smashed into Xie Wenyuan’s Golden-Flow Greatsword. Unsurprisingly, the enormous backlash transmitted through the Golden Flame Sword sent Wen Song flying.

“Clink, clank, clatter…”

The sound of countless longswords striking the metal blade reverberated through the arena. Seeing their senior brother at a disadvantage, the disciples of Mount Hua unleashed the fruits of years of sect training. More than a dozen disciples attacked simultaneously, their spirit weapons painting the air with golden, yellow, and cyan radiance as they battered the Golden-Flow Greatsword charging toward Ning Qian.

Amid a storm of metallic ringing, the golden greatsword veered off course. It traced a streak of golden light before plunging into the railing of the practice platform not far from Ning Qian. The sharp spiritual energy shattered a large section of the white-stone railing, leaving a gaping hole.

“Thud, thud…”

Though the disciples of Mount Hua had managed to deflect the Golden-Flow Greatsword, the backlash from the blade blasted every one of them away. Along with the dozen or so spirit weapons flung into the air, the white-robed disciples were sent flying as well.

“Hmph. You brought this upon yourselves.”

Seeing his Golden-Flow Greatsword knocked off course, Xie Wenyuan’s face turned glacial. When he saw the Mount Hua disciples thrown aside by the blade, he let out a cold snort, his voice filled with fury. A group of mere Qi Refinement cultivators had actually deflected his spirit weapon.

Xie Wenyuan beckoned with one hand. The Golden-Flow Greatsword embedded in the ground rose into the air, carrying a spray of fine stone dust. It drew a streak of light and once again hovered above his head.

“Whoosh…”

The Golden-Flow Greatsword suddenly blazed with light, tore through the sky, and shot straight toward Ning Qian.

“Die, boy! Let’s see who can save you this time.”

Xie Wenyuan’s face twisted savagely as he shouted.

Amid the mournful howl of the blade cutting through the air, the golden radiance from the greatsword enveloped the entire practice platform. It cast Xie Wenyuan’s savage red face in gold and drowned out Ning Qian’s white robes.

“Pfft…”

Ning Qian’s chest seized, and he spat out a mouthful of blood. The pressure radiating from the Golden-Flow Greatsword was simply too powerful—far beyond what he could withstand with a difference of two realms between them.

Ning Qian let go of the Azurewood Vine and stared at the overwhelming pressure. He sat down cross-legged, taking one last look at the Golden-Flow Greatsword suspended in the sky before slowly closing his eyes.

“Buzz…”

The sound of spiritual sense slicing through the air suddenly arose beside Ning Qian. Within his perception, a cocoon formed from spiritual sense took shape around him…

…

Halfway up Eastwood Mountain.

Jiang Yan glanced at the gray-robed man engaged in a fierce battle with Zisu. With a faint smile on his face, he spoke to the masked cultivator before him.

“Ximen Shang, when did the West Gorge Sect learn to hide its face? Surely a dignified fourth-grade sect does not have members who are afraid to show themselves.”

The masked cultivator reached up and tore away the black veil covering his face, revealing the features of Ximen Shang—the same man who had attacked Mount Hua alongside Lu Tiannan of the Tianshan Sect and fled after being wounded.

Ximen Shang beckoned, and the gray-robed man fighting Zisu instantly retreated, avoiding her attack and arriving behind him.

Zisu glanced at Ximen Shang and the cultivator behind him. After receiving Tang Wan’s signal, she also withdrew and returned to Jiang Yan’s side.

“Master Jiang, this is my junior brother, Ximen Luo. He is a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. Please forgive his earlier offense.”

Ximen Shang spoke to Jiang Yan with great courtesy.

Jiang Yan waved a hand, stopping him from continuing with the formalities. His smile faded, and his voice became steady.

“Brother Ximen, you left two late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators here. I assume it was to stop me?”

A gentle smile rose on Ximen Shang’s face, though his eyes gleamed with sly triumph.

“Master Jiang has guessed correctly. Today, I was indeed asked to remain here and hold back Master Jiang and Lady Tang Wan. However, in my judgment, my junior brother and I would have difficulty stopping not only Master Jiang, but Lady Tang Wan as well.”

“Woof! Woof!”

At some point, the Howling Heaven Hound had appeared in the arms of Yunying, whom Jiang Yan was carrying. Hearing Ximen Shang’s arrogant words, it bared its teeth and barked furiously at him.

Ximen Luo stepped forward and whispered into Ximen Shang’s ear, “A second-grade spirit beast—the Howling Heaven Hound.”

The smugness in Ximen Shang’s eyes grew even stronger as he looked at Jiang Yan and the others. A proud smile spread across his handsome face as he quietly said to the junior brother behind him, “Those old fools nearly dragged the West Gorge Sect into a catastrophe. If I had not listened to them this time…”

Ximen Shang clasped his fists in salute and spoke courteously to Jiang Yan.

“Master Jiang, our sect has no intention of making an enemy of yours. But having received another’s favor, we must carry out the task entrusted to us. We have delayed your progress here for a little while. Since we are unable to accomplish our objective, please proceed, Master Jiang.”

Ximen Shang was remarkably decisive. Seeing the gap between himself and Jiang Yan, he abandoned all thought of opposing him without hesitation, raised his hands in surrender, and allowed Jiang Yan’s party to pass.

Jiang Yan looked at him in surprise, unable to understand why he was being so accommodating—why he had let them through so easily.

“Brother Ximen, Mount Hua killed disciples of the West Gorge Sect, yet you are allowing me to pass so readily?”

A sly look appeared on Ximen Shang’s handsome face. He simply sat down on the stone steps beside them, his voice filled with smug confidence.

“Those who understand the times are wise. My junior brother and I are no match for you, so naturally we must let you pass. As for Master Jiang’s killing of our disciples—if you can survive today, then it will no longer matter.”

“No longer matter?”

Jiang Yan frowned as he looked at Ximen Shang seated on the steps. His confusion deepened. Then his eyes shifted several times, and he asked with a double meaning in his voice, “Brother Ximen, regarding your sect’s opposition to Mount Hua…”

“If Master Jiang survives today, you and I may even become allies.”

Ximen Shang interrupted him, his voice calm and steady.

Jiang Yan’s gaze swept over Ximen Luo, whose expression had grown somewhat tense. He waved his hand, turned, and continued up the mountain road. Tang Wan and Zisu followed closely behind him, passing the Ximen brothers as they hurried uphill.

“I hope you do not disappoint me, Jiang Yan.”

Watching the group disappear into the distance, Ximen Shang spoke with a trace of resolve on his refined face.

“Senior Brother, how are we going to explain letting them go to Elder Ximen?”

Ximen Luo’s dark face showed a hint of anxiety. Looking past his senior brother’s shoulder at the distant figures of the Mount Hua group, he asked the question.

“Explain?”

Ximen Shang let out a cold laugh. His voice was filled with absolute certainty.

“Did you not sense it just now? Jiang Yan and the woman behind him are likely far stronger than we are. As for the others, neither you nor I could stop them. Rather than fighting them and ending up mutually wounded, we may as well stand by and watch someone else suffer that fate. That old bastard Ximen Nayan wants us to serve as his vanguard? He can forget it.”

Ximen Luo’s dark face grew even darker. His voice was filled with disbelief.

“Senior Brother, that old bastard Ximen Nayan is at the peak of the Great Perfection stage of Foundation Establishment. He is scarcely weaker than the sect master. How could he lose to an obscure little sect?”

A sudden chill crossed Ximen Shang’s handsome face. He spoke to Ximen Luo with icy severity.

“Junior Brother, remember this: in this world, nothing is impossible. Against this wretched Mount Hua, anything can happen.”

“Should we follow them and take a look, Senior Brother?”

After being reprimanded, Ximen Luo became eager to see the battle between the Mount Hua cultivators and that old man Ximen Nayan. He wanted to know what extraordinary quality the sect that had earned his senior brother’s praise truly possessed.

…

“Ring!”

A golden longsword stabbed into the ground not far from Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan narrowed his eyes and looked toward the elderly man in blue standing atop a small hill beside the mountain road, along with several other blue-robed men. A trace of coldness suddenly rose in his heart.

Every cultivator who had ever caused such a sensation in Jiang Yan’s heart had possessed a cultivation realm higher than his own. He had felt the same when he faced Lu Xiya of the Tianshan Sect, and when he encountered the Meat-Palm Bear King in the Medicine Valley.

As he stared at the slowly turning old man in blue, a transparent information panel gradually appeared before his eyes.

Name: Ximen Nayan
Sect: West Gorge Sect
Position: Seventh-generation disciple
Cultivation: Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment
Weapon: Golden Wild Goose Five-Element Sword
Techniques: Golden Flame Art, third-grade lower tier; Sword Flight, first-grade upper tier; Wind-Walking Art; Flame Condensation Art, first-grade; Detection Art; Golden-Flow Sword Qi, second-grade lower tier
Merit Points: —
Bone Structure: 58
Attribute: Earth

Jiang Yan frowned. Back at the foot of Mount Hua, his junior sister had killed the richly dressed young man who had been with Ximen Shang. Later, Jiang Yan had learned from disciples of the Golden Flame Sect that the young man was the grandson of an outer elder of a fourth-grade sect. Combined with the old man’s surname, it seemed likely that this Ximen Nayan was that very elder.

“You have finally arrived.”

The old man’s voice drifted down from the rocks, cold and laden with hatred.

“Ever since my youngest son’s corpse was sent back to West Gorge Mountain, I have thought of nothing but skinning that little girl alive and tearing out her bones to avenge my boy. Every day I prayed that I could annihilate your entire Mount Hua sect and avenge him. Damn the Southern Heaven Sword Sect! They actually issued an order forbidding fourth-grade sects from entering the Eastwood Region. I have been forced to live in this torment day after day. You killed my boy!”

Ximen Nayan’s sickly, chilling voice spread across the entire mountain. Its shrillness raised a thick layer of gooseflesh across Jiang Yan’s body.

Yunying lifted her small face miserably and frowned at her senior brother. The white-haired old man’s hooting, owl-like speech had frightened her.

Jiang Yan turned and handed Yunying to Tang Wan. A bitter battle was about to begin. Although the Empty-Seer Monk had once said that a second-grade talisman master possessed the power to kill any Foundation Establishment cultivator instantly, Ximen Nayan’s overwhelming momentum and sorrowful aura meant that Jiang Yan would likely be trapped here for some time.

Ximen Nayan threw back his dark face and roared toward the heavens. His voice resounded across the entire peak of Eastwood Mountain.

In front of the Sword Pavilion, Xie Wenyuan heard the howl, which sounded like the cries of ghosts and wolves, and could not help smiling smugly.

That old bastard Ximen had finally made his move.