Chapter 12

Consciousness gradually returned, and the unbearable pain had subsided.

Zongshou mustered all his strength to open his eyes. His limbs were slowly regaining sensation, but he still couldn't move.

A cool sensation was seeping into his body from his abdomen. It must have been the power of the medicinal pill that brought him back to consciousness and suppressed the surging energy within his body.

Looking around, he found himself still in the carriage. However, the Fanyun Cart below had stopped, and the walls of the carriage were adorned with dark patterns.

In the center of the carriage was a purple jade ball, about the size of a fist, floating in the air and slowly rotating, emitting a spiritual light.

"Is this a talisman array? A spirit artifact?"

Zongshou was taken aback, then remembered that Chuxue was a dual cultivator of martial arts and spirit techniques. She had enough mental power to activate this wind wall talisman array.

This carriage and the remarkable jade ball in the air must be the means left by Chuxue's father, who she said would one day shock the Yun Realm.

Inside this carriage, protected by this array, even a先天武者 (先天武者) could not harm him for a short while.

The Mad Blood Demon Saint, the Nine-Tailed Fox King. At the beginning of the spiritual energy eruption, they were among the few Tian-level powerhouses in the Eastern Yun Continent. Once as brilliant as the sun, they fell like meteors, causing countless people in later generations to sigh and lament.

For some reason, the name that should have only elicited a sigh now felt extremely close.

Zongshou didn't know if it was because the situation when he was unconscious was extremely similar to the situation when the real Zongshou 'disappeared,' causing a resonance of the residual soul, or for some other reason. In any case, this person's thirteen years of memories were now all in his mind.

A prodigy who fell from the clouds. All his close ones distanced themselves. Despite his hard training, he achieved nothing. He left for a distant land and changed to the path of a spirit master, but after three years, he was still considered a waste and mocked and despised by many.

In the near future, he would become a puppet in others' hands, enduring torture and dying a tragic death on Qiantian Mountain.

The head on his neck would be hung at the top of Qiantian Mountain by the next demon king, left to rot for three months!

His consciousness was still hazy, but in that moment, his chest and abdomen were filled with unwillingness and indignation—

No matter what kind of pain, he could endure. No matter how arduous the practice, he could persist! But why couldn't he open his wheel meridians?

Was he really useless? Was he destined to hide under his father's wings, relying on his protection for his entire life?

Absolutely not!

Diverse thoughts filled his mind. Zongshou shook his head violently and forced himself to sit up. When the scene outside the window came into view again, his muscles immediately tensed. His temporarily deaf ears suddenly picked up the sounds around him.

He smiled faintly, slightly moved his body to warm up his limbs, and then suddenly drew his sword and stood up in front of the jade ball.

This talisman array isolated the inside and outside of the carriage. No one could come in, and he couldn't go out.

Fortunately, in his previous life, he had some knowledge of spirit master techniques and was particularly skilled in talisman and rune methods.

Focusing his energy at his fingertips, he lightly touched the spiritual light, cutting off the flowing spiritual energy.

The jade ball in front of him immediately spun wildly and drifted around. The purple patterns on the carriage walls suddenly faded.

Zongshou ignored it, holding the Songwen Wind Sword, he took a step and leaped out of the carriage door, landing steadily outside. Through the still spinning wind wall, he looked ahead.

The green wilderness was now stained with blood. Five or six corpses lay on the ground.

The setting sun was like blood, and vultures were circling in the sky, screaming.

Most of the corpses were near the carriage, their throats torn and shredded.

Seven hundred steps away, the sand was raging, and grass debris was flying. Another figure lay nearby, emaciated, with bird-like hands, but with an unusual form, not the Uwei he had seen before. Lying face down, he was already lifeless.

Nearby, sword light cascaded like a waterfall, and the shadows of blades surged like a tide. Dust and sand obscured the view, making it hard to see the figures inside.

Straining his eyes, he could only see that Yin Yang's chest had been pierced. Half of a broken blade was still embedded in the wound, struggling to hold on under the fierce sword light.

What a fierce sword!

His gaze hardened, and he then looked at the cat-eared girl nearby, who was covered in wounds.

Her snow-white dress was now a blood-soaked garment. Her exposed skin was covered with open wounds.

"Xue'er—"

The memories of the past thirteen years flashed before his eyes, childhood sweethearts, innocent and carefree.

Everyone saw him as a waste, a bastard, a disgrace to Qiantian Mountain. Only Xue'er never left his side.

Even though he knew these were the memories of the deceased, and he had only been with the cat-eared girl for less than half a month, the corners of Zongshou's lips still curved upward.

She was carefree and a bit clumsy, but seeing her always made him feel warm.

But this smile quickly turned into a cold and fierce expression.

It wasn't a battle, but a torment. Fighting six people with a severely injured body, her steps were disordered, and she was about to fall. The sword claws on her hands were full of flaws, barely able to defend herself.

The others mostly watched from the sidelines, their eyes filled with ridicule. Only Zong Yu moved around Su Chuxue like a cat playing with a mouse, occasionally slashing her with a sword or stabbing her, a smile on his lips, clearly enjoying it.

The cat-eared girl seemed unaware of her situation. Despite the difficulty of standing, she still futilely chased after Zong Yu's figure.

It wasn't until the wind around the carriage dissipated and the wind blades vanished that she stopped, her eyes filled with despair.

Zong Yu was also taken aback, stepping back several steps, avoiding her from a distance, and looking at Zongshou. His expression of doubt quickly turned into a smile.

"Ah, it's Brother Shou. It seems Xue'er's mental techniques are not yet fully cultivated. Hehe! I was just wondering how to break this wind wall talisman array. I won't kill you today. How about coming back to Qiantian Mountain with me? With Brother Yu protecting you, no one will dare to take your throne. But Xue'er is quite good, very spirited. You should give her to me—"

Zongshou ignored him, his gaze intensely focused on Su Chuxue, as if trying to deeply imprint every wound and sword cut on her body in his mind.

While channeling true qi from his wheel meridians into the Songwen Wind Sword, he thought about the difference between killing and dismembering in reality and in a fully virtual environment.

In the game of his previous life, there was a notorious guy called the "Corpse Dismemberer." After killing someone, he always enjoyed mutilating the corpse, making people unable to bear the sight, and he was infamous.

At that time, Zongshou couldn't understand, finding it somewhat absurd. But today, he found himself unconsciously harboring the same violent thoughts.

The first battle of the sword emperor Tan Qiu, ten thousand years later, was unexpectedly against these scum!

Zong Yu, seeing that Zongshou didn't respond, thought he was scared stiff and couldn't help but sneer again: "I thought you had improved over the years, but you're still no good!"

Just as he was about to signal someone to capture him, Zongshou suddenly asked, "Xue'er, do those wounds hurt?"

Chuxue was already dazed. Hearing this, she was puzzled but immediately shook her head: "No, but Xue'er regrets not taking good care of the young master! It's all Xue'er's fault—"

Zongshou felt a pang of pain in his heart but smiled: "If they don't hurt, then watch carefully as your young master avenges you! How about I cut off these guys' heads and let you kick them like balls?"

Not only was Chuxue surprised, but the others were also stunned. Balls? Embroidered balls? Are they for kicking? Zong Yu was both angry and amused, sneering: "Avenging? You're just a useless waste who can't even protect yourself. Who are you avenging? Brother Shou, are you crazy or just stupid?"

Waving his hand indifferently, the three blue-robed swordsmen beside him leaped out, their bodies like arrows, rushing forward.

Zongshou's eyebrows raised slightly, then he took a deep breath, adjusting his body to its best state. The Songwen Wind Sword pointed diagonally forward, his hands gripping tightly. The hidden power in his body exploded. His right foot stomped the ground, and he dashed forward a huge distance!

In the game of his future, he had killed countless people. But in reality, this was his first time in both battle and slaughter.

He adapted surprisingly well, with no sense of unfamiliarity. A flame seemed to be burning fiercely in his chest.

In just a few steps, he could clearly see the faces of the people opposite. They were dressed in blue, with robust bodies, rushing towards him. Their eyes, the green eyes characteristic of low-level wolf clans, were filled with coldness but no fighting spirit. They probably never saw him as an opponent, only as a fool who didn't know when to die.

Smiling bitterly, the Fengling acupoint in Zongshou's right chest, known as the Spirit Pool, exploded. The true qi inside burst out, directed to his feet.

"Step on the Wind!"

With a strange step, Zongshou's figure flickered, leaving a trail of afterimages. His speed suddenly increased by nearly double! He appeared in front of the first person, almost face-to-face, seeing the shock and fear in the person's eyes.

"Charge Sword!"

Without any hesitation, the sword light shot forward like lightning.

A line of blood, along with countless bone and flesh fragments, spurted out from the throat and neck, which had been pierced!

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