Chapter 2077: A Letter

“Greetings, Martial Uncle.”“Greetings, Master Phantom…”

Phantom Scar landed in front of the palace, retracting his escape light. Dressed in a close-fitting outfit, with his long hair tied back and a long sword on his back, he exuded a graceful demeanor. His eyes were as sharp as a sword, reminiscent of a wandering swordsman. Keeping a spirit sword sheathed is a special method of sword-nurturing.

When the Qingyang Temple disciples saw him, they all bowed in salute, their faces filled with awe. These disciples also held Li Yu’fu and Shen Chen in awe, but the two kinds of reverence were different. For Phantom Scar, their fear outweighed their respect; anyone who had witnessed his performance on the battlefield would be filled with dread towards him. In the Storm Realm, Phantom Scar's reputation was no less than that of Temple Master Li Yu’fu or Shen Chen, the leader of the Heavenly Craft Alliance.

He adhered to the Path of the Killing Sword, thriving on the battlefield. In every battle, he would lead the charge, controlling his sword to rush into enemy formations. Sword light would flash, blood and severed limbs would fly, and lives would be extinguished in an instant, leaving behind only corpses, all without a change in his expression. Both enemies and allies would shiver with fear at the sight of this. He had countless bodies fallen beneath his sword; he was truly a powerhouse who had emerged from a sea of blood.

The disciples were exceptionally respectful, not daring to breathe loudly, and keeping their heads lowered, avoiding eye contact with Phantom Scar. Phantom Scar was aware of his reputation but had no intention of changing it. This was his path, and he didn't need to care about others' opinions. If enemies feared him, striking dread into them before battle was even better.

His expression was stern; he merely uttered a faint "Hm" and walked past the disciples, appearing very indifferent. If they weren't his fellow disciples and juniors, he wouldn't even bother to respond. Yet, the more aloof he appeared, the more at ease they felt. Even the Qingyang Temple disciples felt immense pressure when facing Phantom Scar. If he were to suddenly become as kind and instructive as other elders, they would only feel panic.

Phantom Scar reined in his sword intent and walked to the palace gates. Just as he was about to activate the restriction to pay his respects to the Temple Master, a spiritual light suddenly flashed from the pendant at his waist. His expression shifted slightly; he stopped, a hint of surprise in his eyes. Then, his figure flickered and vanished.

After Phantom Scar left, the disciples all felt a sense of relief. Not daring to discuss their senior, they dispersed.

At this moment, Phantom Scar flew to a nearby peak. This peak was roughly the same height as the main peak where the palace was located, but near its summit, a large formation had been set up, concealing the area. From the outside, it appeared to be an unremarkable mountain. The summit had been leveled into a regular platform, intended to serve as a sparring arena for Qingyang Temple disciples in the future.

On the arena stood two figures: Shen Chen and Sword Slave.

“Senior Brother Shen, I hope you are well.”

Phantom Scar landed and bowed respectfully to Shen Chen. He was Shangguan Lifeng's disciple. Qin Sang and Shangguan Lifeng had addressed each other as peers, so Li Yu’fu considered him a junior martial brother. However, after Shangguan Lifeng's demise, both Li Yu’fu and Shen Chen had provided Phantom Scar with much guidance. Although they were nominally his senior brothers, Phantom Scar always treated them as his elders, observing every courtesy meticulously.

After performing his bow, Phantom Scar turned his gaze to Sword Slave. He had noticed Sword Slave as soon as he arrived. Sword Slave stood quietly, so still that no spiritual energy fluctuations could be detected from him, as if he were a mortal. Yet, Phantom Scar sensed a unique spiritual charm emanating from Sword Slave, immediately realizing that this person must be a sword cultivator!

A strange glint flashed in Phantom Scar's eyes. This person was as profound as the sea, unfathomable. Their cultivation must surely be higher than his own. When did such a master sword cultivator appear in the Storm Realm? Because the amount of Azure Spirit Qi was limited, its distribution required careful consideration, assessing each person's talent, temperament, and so on, to be given to those with the most potential for breakthrough. Currently, over ninety percent of the Spirit Transformation cultivators in the Storm Realm had achieved breakthroughs with the aid of Azure Spirit Qi. Having benefited from it and incurred its karma, these individuals had all appeared on the battlefield, their names widely known and impossible to conceal.

Of course, it wasn't impossible for someone to have quietly broken through, fearing the Changyou Clan, and gone into hiding. Not everyone could prioritize the greater good; no matter the situation, there would always be some who harbored ulterior motives.

Phantom Scar wasn't concerned with Sword Slave's origins. His instinctive reaction was that he had finally met an expert fellow practitioner with whom he could test his sword dao. The spirit sword on his back resonated with his thoughts, emitting a sword hum.

Sensing Phantom Scar's battle intent, Shen Chen smiled, “Why haven't you paid your respects to Senior Sword Slave yet!”

Although he and Sword Slave were both at the Spirit Transformation stage, Qin Sang had addressed Sword Slave as a fellow Daoist, and his attitude towards Sword Slave was clearly unusual, so Shen Chen referred to him as senior. Unless Heavenly Venerate Tianyue had given specific instructions, Sword Slave did not care for formalities and would not speak much.

Upon first hearing the name 'Sword Slave,' Shen Chen felt a slight surprise. After all, who would use 'slave' as a title to diminish themselves? But to Phantom Scar's ears, this name carried a deeper meaning. To call oneself a 'slave of the sword' surely meant one had only the sword in their heart—a pure sword cultivator!

“Greetings, Senior Sword Slave!”

A brilliant light burst forth in Phantom Scar's eyes; his battle intent not only didn't diminish but intensified, his entire being like a drawn, sharp sword. Shen Chen understood his junior brother's temperament and had long anticipated this. He looked at Sword Slave, “Senior Sword Slave, about this...”

Sword Slave readily said, “I was just about to spar with little friend Phantom Scar on the Way of the Sword!”

Shen Chen nodded, flashed away from the arena, and landed on the nearby viewing platform, preparing to fully activate the arena's grand formation. On the arena, only Sword Slave and Phantom Scar remained.

Ten *zhang* separated them, their eyes fixed on each other. Phantom Scar, in his close-fitting attire with the sword on his back, had his spirit sword vibrating frequently behind him, its hum shaking the sky, seemingly eager to kill for its master. Amidst the sword's hum, his aura continuously built up, rising step by step, merging with his sword intent, and becoming increasingly sharp.

In contrast, Sword Slave wore black robes, his feet slightly apart, and his arms naturally hanging down. His sword was nowhere to be seen. His eyes were somewhat cloudy, devoid of sharpness, merely looking at Phantom Scar with a placid gaze, like an old man weathered by experience observing a novice.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz...”

The sword hum echoed throughout the arena. Suddenly, Phantom Scar's eyes widened slightly; his aura finally reached its peak, and the sword hum ceased abruptly. With a *clang*, the spirit sword unsheathed, and a sword light burst forth, like a clear autumn stream, dazzling and brilliant.

At this moment, Shen Chen, who was watching from the viewing platform, suddenly changed expression, abruptly standing up, his face filled with shock. That sword light dimmed, having never left Phantom Scar's back. The spirit sword had only been drawn halfway from its sheath, frozen in that position. The spirit sword had not fully left its sheath, and Phantom Scar also stood rooted, not moving an inch. He stared intently forward, where a sword was pointed directly at his glabella, less than three inches away from him!

The moment he was about to draw his sword, he suddenly felt an immense crisis descend. Yet, before he could control his sword to counterattack, this sword appeared before him. Phantom Scar had no protective treasures, only a sword and the pervasive sword intent around him, which was his most proud defensive method. His sword intent formed the sturdiest barrier, capable of resisting any enemy attack. As soon as an attack approached, it would be met with the fiercest counterattack, faster and more reliable than any protective treasure.

Yet, when facing Sword Slave, his sword intent barrier failed. This sword easily pierced through the sword intent barrier, appearing abruptly before him. His protective sword intent had no reaction, or rather, no time to react. Had Sword Slave not held back, this sword might have already pierced his glabella, impaling his skull. Phantom Scar knew this was Sword Slave's sword, but he hadn't seen when Sword Slave summoned it or what sword technique he had used.

Phantom Scar tried to find reasons for himself: if it weren't a sparring match and Sword Slave hadn't held back, he surely would have been able to defend with his sword, not be completely helpless. But Phantom Scar replayed the scenario again and again, coming to the same conclusion: he might have been able to block the first sword, but it would have been very difficult to block the second!

In battles between Spirit Transformation cultivators, Heavenly Might was often involved, and those with higher cultivation could suppress opponents with it. Phantom Scar knew his cultivation was inferior to Sword Slave's and had prepared for it, but the opponent clearly hadn't used even a trace of Heavenly Might. This was a fair sword duel, and he had lost, lost so completely.

*Click!*

The spirit sword returned to its sheath. Phantom Scar lowered his head, “I lost.”

The shock in Shen Chen's eyes had not yet faded. Phantom Scar was certainly no match for Sword Slave, but he hadn't expected the battle to end so quickly, with Phantom Scar unable to even block a single move. No wonder Master held Sword Slave in such high regard! Shen Chen even wondered if Fairy Liuli and the Changyou Clan Chief would be a match for Sword Slave.

As he was about to fly towards the arena, a figure appeared beside him; it was Li Yu’fu.

“Senior Brother...”

“I saw it,” Li Yu’fu nodded, his eyes shining brightly as he sighed, “Indeed, there are no ordinary individuals by Martial Uncle's side!”

Shen Chen wholeheartedly agreed. The two landed on the arena, cupped their hands in salute to Sword Slave, and both looked at Phantom Scar. Phantom Scar hadn't noticed their arrival. He stood motionless, his spirit sword already having been retrieved by Sword Slave. Phantom Scar's gaze was lowered, seemingly replaying the recent battle, immersed in it, with sword intent subtly fluctuating around him.

Seeing that he seemed to have gained something, Sword Slave secretly nodded; he was indeed a promising talent. After a while, Phantom Scar finally came to, and seeing Li Yu’fu, he quickly saluted, “Greetings, Temple Master. This junior was disrespectful.”

Li Yu’fu smiled and nodded, then bowed formally to Sword Slave, “Junior Brother Phantom Scar is dedicated to pursuing the Way of the Sword, but he lacks a renowned master. Would it be too much trouble for Senior to offer some guidance? We would be immensely grateful!”

Phantom Scar's eyes showed eager anticipation. He believed the Way of the Sword should be pursued with unwavering determination, but without blind arrogance; any powerful sword cultivator was his teacher.

Sword Slave glanced at Phantom Scar, then turned and walked out of the arena, “If you wish to learn the sword, follow me.”

“Many thanks for your guidance, Senior!”

Phantom Scar bowed, then quickly followed. Watching them leave, Shen Chen sighed and looked at Li Yu’fu, “Is Master in seclusion? Are there any other instructions?”

Li Yu’fu nodded, his lips moving slightly as he transmitted something via spiritual message. Shen Chen's expression became solemn, and he nodded repeatedly.

South of Zhongzhou, slightly to the west, countless islands and archipelagos dotted the sea, home to the Changyou Clan. The islands were regularly distributed, some forming island chains. By deploying their army here, the Changyou Clan could establish robust defenses. Previously, fierce beasts would occasionally emerge from the polluted lands, but usually only one at a time, causing little damage, and the nearby Changyou Clan experts could encircle and kill them.

It wasn't until the mass beast attack, which resulted in heavy losses for the Changyou Clan, and the later discovery of the Storm Realm, that the Changyou Clan stationed its large army here. The Storm Realm had launched several counterattacks, but each time they pushed the Changyou Clan back to this point, they couldn't advance further and would be pushed back by the Changyou Clan, with the battlefield constantly shifting back and forth in the sea between the two regions. Now, the Changyou Clan held the advantage and had also occupied the Western Barrens.

Beyond the first layer of island chains, there were two more similar clusters of islands. The Changyou Clan could retreat repeatedly, giving them a battlefield depth that the Storm Realm could not match. The clan members here suffered countless casualties during the beast attacks. After several centuries of recuperation, they were gradually recovering.

Beyond the three layers of island chains lay a vast continent, the most prosperous and central region of the Changyou Clan. Most prominent families resided here, as well as the Changyou Clan's Ancestral Sacred Hall. The Ancestral Sacred Hall was the most important sacred place for every tribe of Other-folk. Ancestors were enshrined in the hall, and the Other-folk believed that only by devoutly worshipping their ancestors would the ancestors guide them in their search for the Great Dao.

This continent was named Holy Bath Plain, where legend held that the Changyou Clan ancestors once bathed in a sacred lake. Holy Bath Plain had countless rivers, lakes, and abundant rainfall; nearly sixty percent of it was water, with much of the rest being swamps, wetlands, and rainforests, leaving very little truly dry land. The land was fragmented by waterways, looking like an archipelago within the sea when viewed from above. This was precisely the environment the Changyou Clan favored. The Changyou Clan possessed innate water-controlling abilities, and even their mortals were born with a fondness for water.

The Holy Lake was the Changyou Clan's sacred site, with the Ancestral Sacred Hall built in its center. The Changyou Clan Chief and the clan elders were responsible for guarding the Ancestral Sacred Hall; they would not easily leave the Holy Lake unless a major event occurred. The Chief's residence was located on the shore of the Holy Lake. At this moment, the Chief was in seclusion within his residence.

In a certain quiet chamber, an oil lamp burned silently. The Changyou Clan Chief sat cross-legged beneath the lamp, the flame producing a wisp of white smoke which he inhaled through his nostrils. The lamp oil was a special spiritual substance; when burned, it emitted a faint fragrance that could calm the mind and aid cultivation. It was a very rare treasure even within the Changyou Clan, only the Chief and elders being qualified to use it.

The Zhuyan and their subordinate Imperial Clans were mostly brave and skilled in battle, with powerful physical bodies. The Changyou Clan was no exception; most of their people were mighty and robust. This particular Chief, however, was short and gaunt, only half the height of a normal Changyou clansman. His cheeks were almost sunken, making his face appear even more pointed and monkey-like, while his four ears on either side were unusually large, giving him a rather peculiar appearance.

While meditating, the Changyou Clan Chief's ears twitched slightly. He suddenly opened his eyes, and the quiet chamber seemed to brighten for an instant. The quiet chamber's restriction was triggered by someone outside. The Changyou Clan Chief sensed it was his most favored third son. He had given instructions before entering seclusion that no one else should disturb him at this time.

His brows furrowed, and he demanded, “What is it?!”

“Father!”

The Chief's son's voice was somewhat flustered, as if he had encountered something terrifying. “Someone asked me to deliver a letter to Father and said they would be waiting outside the sacred grounds for you!”

The Changyou Clan Chief's eyes narrowed slightly. His son also possessed a cultivation of the Void Realm, First Layer. What kind of person could make him so panicked that he would obediently deliver a letter, disregarding the interruption to his father's cultivation?

The door to the quiet chamber silently opened a crack. The Chief's son held a talismanic letter with both hands. He suddenly felt his hands lighten, and the talismanic letter flew into the quiet chamber. The Changyou Clan Chief opened the talismanic letter, glanced at it twice, and his expression suddenly changed.

He slowly rose, pondering something in his heart, his face fluctuating between clear and overcast. Finally, his expression returned to calm, and he stepped out of the quiet chamber, saying to his third son, who stood respectfully aside, “Keep this matter strictly to yourself.”

The Chief's son shivered all over, “Your son obeys!”