Chapter 26: A Brawl Between Two Old Men, An Enemy Slain by a Single Sword Strike

The night was moonless and deep. Darkness shrouded the vast world, veiling the heavens.

On True Mystery Peak of Floating Cloud Mountain, Xuanming looked down, gazing at the intruder from above. Since Xuanxu had entered closed-door meditation, Xuanming had kept watch on True Mystery Peak every night, resting on a branch of the century-old ginkgo tree. After eight consecutive nights, he had finally waited long enough. At this moment, Xuanming felt both excitement and a sense of resignation. Excitement, because someone had come; resignation, because that someone had indeed come.

As for the intruder's identity, he had his suspicions. Putting himself in the shoes of the Chen clan's leader, if one were to stir up trouble in secret, one would surely want to resolve it once and for all. The goal would be to strike suddenly, coerce, and control the Abbot of True Truth Temple, forcing him to concede a coveted spot. Otherwise, it would merely alert the enemy, and failing to achieve the objective would only bring their conflict into the open. Once the news spread, the public sentiment would turn against the Chen clan. Therefore, to ensure victory—or rather, to ensure total success—the clan’s strongest warrior had to be the one to strike.

Furthermore, Xuanming had already stepped half a foot into the threshold of Qi Refining. Having achieved a "Flawless Foundation" and accumulating power day by day for a century, his foundation was profound, and his strength far surpassed that of his peers. Even without drawing a weapon, his sword-finger technique was something no ordinary practitioner of the fourth stage of Essence Refining could withstand. Those who could emerge unscathed were rare indeed. Looking across the entire Chen clan, only Old Master Chen was capable of such a feat. Of course, even if he had guessed wrong, it would be no shame. In any case, this person was destined to die tonight.

When his identity was called out, the man in black looked startled, but upon second thought, he found it expected. These Taoists on the mountain were no fools. Given that this mysterious old Taoist had been waiting for him, it was clear they were guarding against the Chen clan. It seemed these stubborn priests were cleverer than he had imagined. Given the current tension between the two families, his identity being guessed was unexpected, yet logically sound. However, Old Master Chen did not admit it; he chose to deceive himself. As long as his mask remained, he would deny everything.

Looking at the old Taoist before him, he felt a growing sense of dread. One could see the autumn from a single falling leaf, and the spring from the first flower. During their brief collision just now, he had actually been forced back several steps. Though the situation had been sudden and his response rushed, it was enough to show that this old Taoist possessed immense strength, surely no less than his own.

"I never imagined True Truth Temple possessed such depth," Old Master Chen said, deliberately roughening his voice. "May I ask for the Daoist name of the master?"

"I am Xuanming."

"How is this possible!" Old Master Chen was shocked. Was Xuanming not a practitioner of the third stage? Why had he suddenly transformed into a presence of the fourth stage? And his foundation was so deep, his strength rivaling his own—clearly, he had reached this level long ago.

A possibility suddenly crossed his mind: he had been playing the fool, hiding his strength to catch his prey! This old Taoist must have entered the path of cultivation as early as age fifty-five, and with the residual blessings of the previous Abbot of True Truth Temple, his cultivation had skyrocketed. Yet, he had deliberately kept a low profile, holding back his true power. That previous breakthrough to foundation establishment must have been a performance—a fabricated rumor to hide his true cultivation and fool the world. All the elders of True Truth Temple had been in on the act, just to strike a devastating blow to a powerful enemy when the temple was in crisis. And he, unfortunately, happened to be that enemy, forcing the old Taoist to finally reveal his hand.

"No wonder!" Old Master Chen gritted his teeth. No wonder he was unmoved by the offer of the Jade Flower Pill; he simply had no need for it. No wonder he had the courage to refuse him; he had the foundation to back it up. No wonder he was waiting here; the old man was truly cunning. Everything that seemed unreasonable now clicked into place.

In a flash of lightning, these thoughts surged through Old Master Chen’s mind. Realizing his plans for tonight were falling through, that the spot would be lost, and that he would have no way to answer to his family, he could not help but curse out loud: "What a crafty old priest!"

Xuanming had no time to ponder the old man's internal state, nor did he care for his angry shouting. Taking advantage of his shock, Xuanming leaped from the treetops without a word. He pressed his index and middle fingers together to form a sword-finger, opting for a preemptive strike.

Sword winds whistled, and sword qi erupted. A terrifying sword intent surged forward like a rushing river. Old Master Chen felt a chill run through his entire body. Suppressing his thoughts, he dared not be careless and drew a heavy, golden broadsword. A sharp blade light burst forth, and a majestic blade intent pressed down like a mountain. Even when a lion hunts a rabbit, it uses its full strength. Moreover, he had come to Floating Cloud Mountain with ulterior motives, and he was on the territory of True Truth Temple. If the old Taoist hadn't blocked his path, it would have been fine, but now that he was challenged by an opponent of equal strength, he was essentially charging into a dragon’s den or a tiger’s lair alone; the danger had multiplied. If he could not escape quickly, he risked alerting the other Taoists in the mountain and falling into an ambush. A pair of fists could not defeat four hands; even a fierce tiger feared a pack of wolves. If that happened, he might face a life-or-death crisis.

Thus, Old Master Chen did not test his opponent further; he unleashed his full strength, hoping to shake off Xuanming. The collision of sword qi and blade light created a deafening roar. Rocks shattered, trees were leveled, and sand and stones flew through the air. One moved his fingers like lightning; the other swung his blade like rain. The two clashed repeatedly, neither giving an inch.

In just a short moment, Old Master Chen grew fearful and furious. He was fearful because, even now, Xuanming had not drawn a sword, using only a horsetail whisk in his left hand and his sword-finger in his right. With each strike, the sword qi only grew stronger. This old Taoist’s strength exceeded his expectations—far beyond his own, terrifying and unfathomable. He was furious because every time he tried to withdraw, Xuanming would press forward, forcing him to stay, trapping him like someone sinking into a swamp. Unable to win and unable to run, Old Master Chen felt as if he were slowly becoming a fish in a net, helpless and at the mercy of another.

Across the peaks of True Truth Temple, the fourth-stage Taoists were stirred. On Blazing Sun Peak, Xuanyang, who had been drinking alone, grabbed his wine flagon and dashed out of the Blazing Sun Hall, heading straight for True Mystery Peak. On Spring Snow Peak, Xuanyin, who had been studying the Yin-Yang Foundation Establishment texts, tapped her toes and soared toward the peak like a wild goose. On Cleansing Heart Peak, Xuanyu, who had just finished reviewing the repentance records of a wayward disciple, exited the Law Enforcement Hall with a grim expression. On Fire Cloud Peak, Xuankong leaped onto the back of a spirit crane as it spread its wings. The immense weight caused the crane to sink, nearly crashing to the ground, which made Xuankong’s face turn black. Only when the crane struggled to flap its wings and rise did his expression clear.

Meanwhile, on True Mystery Peak, Xuanming and Old Master Chen had exchanged over a hundred blows. The latter’s face grew increasingly dark, like ink. He realized that this old priest was using him as a free sparring partner. Despite having the strength to crush him, he was holding back, intentionally letting him off during moments of life and death. For a time, Old Master Chen felt a mix of joy and anger. Joy, because he was allowed to live a little longer; anger, because a warrior could be killed but not humiliated. This Xuanming was like a dull blade cutting flesh, squeezing him for every ounce of value—it was truly overbearing!

In stark contrast to Old Master Chen’s foul mood, Xuanming was exuberant. He could feel his combat experience soaring and his techniques becoming more refined, achieving equal power with less spiritual energy—low output, high effect.

*Swoosh!* Another powerful wave of sword qi surged forward. Old Master Chen, unable to dodge, felt the shockwave graze his face. His black mask shattered into dust, leaving a bloody gash on his aged cheek. Seeing that his identity was completely exposed and that he could no longer hide the truth, Old Master Chen flew into a rage. He could deny using the Chen clan’s signature techniques; he could deny using the Chen clan’s Life-Severing Golden Blade—as long as his true face remained hidden, he could invent excuses. But now that his shroud of decency had been ripped away, Old Master Chen had no path of retreat. True Truth Temple and the Chen clan were now officially at war.

"Old man Xuanming, I will fight you to the death!" Old Master Chen roared. He soared into the air, swinging his golden blade in a fierce downward strike. A majestic blade light emerged, manifesting a phantom mountain that descended with crushing force. The air vibrated, the peak groaned, the forest trembled, and rocks tumbled down as plants were reduced to dust. He knew he could not escape tonight. If so, he would eliminate the greatest threat to the Chen clan and take the old Taoist with him. Only then would his family have a chance to breathe; though they might be at a disadvantage in future struggles, they would not be uprooted by True Truth Temple.

Outside True Mystery Peak, the other Taoists arrived. They saw Brother Xuanming standing with his robes fluttering, and they saw the hysterical Old Master Chen. They wished to assist, but the immense blade intent made it impossible to approach. Even at the edge of the battlefield, they suffered minor injuries and were forced to retreat, becoming mere spectators to the clash between the two old men. This was a battle between the strongest figures of True Truth Temple and the Chen clan. The Taoists watched with burning eyes, fearing they might miss a single detail. As for the safety of Brother Xuanming, they had no worries—after all, he hadn't even drawn a weapon.

When the hundred-foot-tall phantom mountain appeared, the Taoists exclaimed, "The intent is half-condensed—he is at the half-step to Qi Refining!" No wonder Old Master Chen dared to climb Floating Cloud Mountain at night; he had glimpsed the threshold of Qi Refining, and his strength had given him the courage. Alas, there was always a mountain higher than the previous one. Encountering Brother Xuanming, he was destined to be crushed.

"So, Brother Xuanming has also seen that threshold," Xuanyin noted. "He might even be closer to the Qi Refining stage than Old Master Chen." The others realized this too, their faces filled with shock. Calculating it, Brother Xuanming had entered the path of cultivation less than two years ago, yet he had reached this point without anyone noticing. The Taoists felt a mix of joy and shame; compared to their senior brother, their own decades of cultivation had been for naught.

"The Great Peng rises with the wind, soaring ninety thousand miles—Brother Xuanming is a dragon emerging from the abyss!" Xuankong sighed in heartfelt admiration. Xuanyang nodded in deep agreement. "Brother Xuanming’s foundation is extraordinary. I am not surprised that he saw that threshold, but I never imagined he would reach it so quickly."

Xuanming had no interest in the reactions of his fellow Taoists. Seeing the mountain of blades descending, he withdrew his sword-finger, a hint of seriousness appearing on his face—but only a hint.

"It is time to end this," Xuanming said, his voice flat but resounding.

The peachwood sword hummed and rang as it left its scabbard. With the sword in hand, he gave his all. He executed a light, seemingly effortless thrust, but the strike unleashed terrifying power. A hundred-foot-long sword light, like a vast river, flowed against the current, washing away the blade intent and shattering the phantom mountain.

Old Master Chen was swallowed by the river of light. Covered in wounds and broken, his eyes widened, his face filled with disbelief. His vision gradually dimmed, and his final whisper before death was old, weak, and left much to the imagination:

"This... is impossible!"

Impossible, what? Was it impossible that he was killed so cleanly without taking his enemy with him? Or was it impossible that Xuanming was so terrifyingly strong, not at all like a fourth-stage practitioner? Or was it impossible that Xuanming possessed combat power far beyond a single great realm, comparable to a true cultivator of Qi?

Who knows? In any case, Xuanming had no interest in exploring the matter. It was a waste of time.