Chapter Thirty-Nine: Seizing Every Opportunity

“How have you considered it?” Upon hearing Venerable Universal Salvation’s impatient question, Master Wuchen’s body instantly tensed. He secretly formed a spell and suddenly made his move, hurling a string of prayer beads at Master Wuchen.

At once, golden light erupted within the formation, dazzling before Master Wuchen could react. Instinctively, he waved his banner, sending several beams of golden light shooting forth from it.

Boom.

The golden light collided with the prayer beads, producing a tremendous crash that made the whole array tremble. Venerable Universal Salvation watched the golden light emanating from the Glazed Golden Light Banner—clearly the same origin as his own cultivated golden light. It seemed Master Wuchen had acquired the magical artifact of the Golden Light Adept, explaining his relentless pursuit.

It was clear that today would demand a desperate struggle. Venerable Universal Salvation bent low, shrouded in swirling mist, his form transforming into a centipede three fathoms long. Its two golden antennae bore faint traces of purple qi.

He opened his maw and spewed a jet of black poisonous smoke toward Master Wuchen. Then, he rose upright, twenty-four pairs of abdominal eyes snapping open simultaneously, unleashing twenty-four beams of golden light upon Master Wuchen.

Master Wuchen had just rotated the formation, altering its structure to hide himself within, vanishing for a moment. Yet, several beams of golden light pierced straight through the mist, illuminating him.

He instinctively shielded himself with the Glazed Golden Light Banner.

Bang.

With a loud crash, the table was blasted to splinters by the golden light, sending talismans and magical implements flying in all directions. The Glazed Golden Light Banner in Master Wuchen’s hands dimmed considerably.

Master Wuchen panicked; he had not anticipated how formidable the centipede spirit had grown in so few days. He saw the golden antennae atop its head—linked to its cultivation method—but the traces of purple there were extraordinary. Purple qi from the east was the most honored, reserved only for sages and emperors. Anything bearing purple qi was supremely noble.

It seemed the centipede spirit had absorbed the emperor’s purple qi. He also realized the centipede was utterly unafraid of his demon-destroying array—hence its confident composure despite its initial surprise.

The centipede spirit writhed its massive body, contracting and then springing forth like an arrow toward Master Wuchen.

Master Wuchen bit his tongue, spraying fresh blood onto the banner. The Glazed Golden Light Banner flared with renewed brilliance. He stamped intricate steps upon the ground, chanting under his breath.

Yet Outside, Shangguan Chuan Yun felt nothing—the formation had enveloped a vast area. No matter how violently they fought inside, so long as the array held, nothing would leak out.

Watching Master Wuchen’s movements, Shangguan Chuan Yun realized he was about to fight desperately. From the outset, he had weighed their strength—clearly, the centipede spirit imbued with purple qi was far superior. The demon-destroying array was useless against the emperor’s purple qi, and the centipede spirit was far more formidable now than before.

The difference was startling.

If he intervened now, the centipede would be wounded at most, but Master Wuchen would be gravely injured. Should the centipede spirit come seeking trouble with him afterward, he would be in danger.

Shangguan Chuan Yun decided to act. He swiftly removed the sword casket from his back, opened it in one fluid motion, and communed with his flying sword—mind and blade as one. He bit his tongue, sprayed a mouthful of blood, and poured ninety percent of his internal energy into the sword.

He whispered, “Go.”

A flash of white light—the flying sword vanished, reappearing behind the centipede spirit’s neck in an instant.

The centipede spirit was just upon Master Wuchen, spewing a golden-tinged poisonous smoke. Master Wuchen, meanwhile, had finished his spell, actively wielding the Glazed Golden Light Banner toward the centipede.

Suddenly, the centipede spirit felt a chill at the back of its neck, freezing its entire body. But it was too late to dodge—the centipede managed only to avoid the vital spot, where its inner elixir was housed.

Boom, boom, boom.

A violent clash of spells echoed from within.

Howl.

The centipede spirit was pierced by the flying sword, crying out in agony and rolling frantically across the ground.

“Ah…boom!” At the same time, Master Wuchen’s spell was breached—struck by the centipede’s golden poisonous smoke, he was sent flying, screaming, crashing through the wall behind. Blood poured from his seven apertures—he was likely beyond saving.

The flying sword instantly returned to its casket, lying quietly as if it had never left.

Shangguan Chuan Yun stared in shock at the centipede, three fathoms long, writhing and howling on the ground. He quickly closed the casket and slung it over his back, retrieving seven specially crafted Thunderbolts from his bosom. Rising, he stamped out the Seven Stars Steps, invoking the power of the Northern Dipper, and threw the Thunderbolts using what little internal energy remained.

The centipede spirit, wounded by the flying sword, felt its meridians ravaged by sword energy. Its rolling was an effort to suppress the sword’s intent. Spying another foe nearby, it barely had time to react before it saw seven flashing thunder spheres hurtling toward it, emitting an aura that chilled its heart—clearly designed to counter it.

The centipede spirit knew that if it were struck, death was certain. Determined to survive, it ruthlessly sacrificed its body below the head in a blood ritual.

It cried out, “Golden Light Blood Escape!”

Boom-boom-boom.

An explosion thundered where the centipede spirit fled. It spat blood, staggered, and vanished in a beam of golden light.

Shangguan Chuan Yun sighed in regret.

He looked at Master Wuchen, blasted into pieces by the Thunderbolts—nothing remained, not even the banner, which had been shattered. The blast left a crater nearly ten fathoms wide. Nearby houses were damaged, and people ran out in panic, a wave of chaos spreading.

Master Wuchen’s formation was shattered, the sound echoing through all of Shengjing.

Shangguan Chuan Yun stared, dumbfounded at the effects of his seven Thunderbolts—their power rivaled small artillery shells, the blast radius seven or eight fathoms, and if laced with wolfbane caltrops, the lethal range would be thirty fathoms.

He was about to leave when he glimpsed something gleaming in the smoke-cleared crater.

He stepped in, picked it up, and examined it.

“So it’s a jade tablet.”

He wiped off the dust and found engraved runes resembling those of the famed Golden Light Incantation—known in his previous life as the last of the Eight Great Divine Incantations, used for protection, sanctification, illumination, meditation, and more.

A sudden realization dawned on him.

“Golden Light Adept? The source text? Could this jade tablet be…?”

“Hurry over! The explosion happened right here!”

Shangguan Chuan Yun heard the voices approaching, joined by the clamor of footsteps, some orderly—clearly the military had arrived.

A few steps took him out of the crater; he turned and erased all traces with a single stroke of his sword. Seizing the cover of smoke and confusion, he departed.

As he left, he noticed some houses nearby with rooftops blown off by his blast. Though the destruction was grim, thankfully there were no casualties.

He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his heart settle.

...

On the road, Shangguan Chuan Yun weighed the jade tablet in his hand.

Master Wuchen’s mentioned source text must be this. The “source text” signifies unity—the principle that heaven is clear through unity, earth is full through unity, the spirit is agile through unity, and all things live through unity.

The key is not in the words, but in the single aperture. Many believe it is a book, but the book is merely a vessel for transmission. The true secret is gained through insight.

He had heard of this jade tablet in his previous life—his sword immortal master had told stories of the Jade Tablet Transmission Method.

It was well known that there were four great alchemical schools in China: Tiger-Dragon Alchemy, Purity Alchemy, Literary Alchemy, and Yin-Yang Alchemy. These were merely broad categories, and after millennia of development, they merged into countless forms, all originating from the four foundations.

Yet transmission had always been oral, not written.

Some ancestors, unable to find worthy disciples before ascending to Penglai, refined their cultivation into jade tablets and buried them in mountains, blessed lands, or even their own tombs. Some threw them into bustling marketplaces, waiting for fate to bring them to a worthy inheritor.

Shangguan Chuan Yun was certain this jade tablet was left by the Golden Light Adept.

He had not only eliminated a potential threat but also acquired this treasure. Though he would not cultivate its method, studying it could deepen his own foundation and perhaps inspire new insights.

His goal was immortality through the sword immortals’ path—a method demanding both high character and profound inner strength.

Since the Golden Light Adept had left behind the Golden Elixir cultivation method, perhaps one day he would find a suitable disciple to inherit it.

As for other matters, they were of no consequence. Regarding Shangguan Hongyun, he hardly concerned himself—Hongyun’s best fighters had been blasted away, likely needing at least a year to recover.

With Shangguan Xingyun at home, Hongyun could stir no great trouble. Unlike himself, Xingyun was not so kind—if not mortal enemies, Shangguan Chuan Yun would only wound him at most; but Xingyun was different. Offending him, so long as there were no immediate consequences, Xingyun would not hesitate to eliminate him.

Shangguan Chuan Yun glanced at the southern sky, where the constellations were shrouded in black and red hues, and bright blood-colored stars gleamed in the distance—chaos among the stars, a world thrown into disorder.

He steadied his heart, gazing firmly southward, murmuring to himself:

“It seems I must hurry. So long as Father is safe, home will always be secure.”