Chapter 139: Hidden Peak Blood-Stained Sword Robe

Countless fine sword marks appeared on the iron-grey walls. They were like the fine, needle-like rain of spring, scattering instantly through all the space. Even the deep black mist held a hazy beauty amidst the rain-like sword energy.

Lu Jiajia stood suspended in mid-air, her robes gently fluttering. The green jade pendant and red tassels at her waist swayed softly. Her hair was slightly dishevelled, and her elegant neck, imbued with sword intent, gleamed like jade against the light, exuding a cool yet gentle quality. The immortal sword Minglan hovered beside her, its straight blade shimmering with flowing light like fireworks, faintly outlining the nascent form of a young bird.

That was the Bloodfeather Monarch, whose spirit had been sealed and was now nurtured within the sword. Lu Jiajia had once promised to grant it a physical body again once it had slain a hundred demons.

"A weapon spirit?" an Elder, turning back in shock, exclaimed.

Lu Jiajia did not reply. She glanced at Yazhu, who, covered in many new wounds, finally let out a sigh of relief.

"What realm are you in now?" another rebellious Elder asked coldly.

Lu Jiajia moved her long sword, bringing forth a flash of flame. Her figure simultaneously leapt onto the cliff, and the long sword returned to its sheath.

Without another word, Lu Jiajia drew a straight horizontal stroke with two fingers in front of her. A phantom sword condensed, striking out with no light or shadow. An Elder of the Longevity Realm had no time to react before his head rolled to the ground, the cut on his neck as smooth as a mirror.

Lu Jiajia gently put down the young man in her arms. Ning Changjiu wasn't fully unconscious; he still had some awareness, though in his mind, he couldn't distinguish between reality and illusion. He vaguely saw gigantic snake bones and statue-like old men, yet he also felt it was all a dream. What he had done in the deep valley was supposedly just climbing from the bottom to outside the peak, but he couldn't recall how he had managed it.

Now, he only felt as if he were resting against a warm, soft cloud, deeply nestled within it, a faint, clean fragrance lingering at his nostrils.

Ning Xiaoling knelt on one knee, her voice choked with tears as she bowed, "Xiaoling greets Master."

Lu Jiajia's expression softened slightly. She gently rubbed Ning Xiaoling's forehead with her thumb and said, "Master came late."

Ning Xiaoling vigorously shook her head, wiping away her tears.

The peak valley was extremely deep, and the dense black mist resembled a viscous liquid, hindering the movement of swords.

Earlier, when Lu Jiajia had descended into the abyss with a rope tied to her back, she had never imagined she could ascend by wielding her sword. As she slid down the cliff face, nearing the bottom, she suddenly felt the rope behind her pressing against her.

She knew someone had cut the rope; those above were in chaos.

She quickly recalled her Master's warning from years ago: "Once you become Peak Master, trust no one. Every cultivator who fails to advance realms for decades is a latent madman. They are not immortals, but greedy gamblers, willing to abandon everything for a fleeting goal."

At the time, Lu Jiajia felt her Master's words hinted at something, but she received no answer when she asked for clarification.

She knew something about that generation.

Skycave Peak was originally the strongest of the Four Peaks, and her Master, initially known as the "Sword Maniac," was widely considered the most promising candidate to inherit the Sect Master position.

Yet, no one expected that the old man, dubbed the "Sword Maniac," would indeed go mad later, almost triggering a catastrophe that would involve all Four Peaks.

Fortunately, Skycave Peak ultimately managed to trap him with the collective strength of the entire peak. After that, the Peak Master's realm plummeted by three minor stages, remaining at only the second level of the Purple Court Realm until his death. That upheaval also brought many cultivators' paths to an abrupt end.

That was the root cause of the discontinuity in Skycave Peak's entire generation.

Skycave Peak had significantly fewer stewards, instructors, and venerables compared to the other peaks. This mountain, which the Ancestor had originally placed great hopes upon and where a Sword Star hung, should not have ended up like this.

Most cultivators of that generation, their cultivation foundations damaged after the upheaval, abandoned the peak and wandered the world. A portion chose to remain, but afterwards, resources heavily favored the other three peaks. The Sect Master, secluded in Ringwaterfall Mountain, rarely inquired about Skycave Peak's situation. Thus, the Skycave Peak lineage began to decline. After taking in a female disciple as his last apprentice a few years later, the old Peak Master no longer concerned himself with anything.

The old Peak Master's death was sudden. While many rumors circulated, only Lu Jiajia and a few others knew that he had died from a forced spirit severance, a cataclysmic divine punishment.

Those cultivators whose lives had been ruined by the old Peak Master were naturally overjoyed, but they never expected him to pass on the Peak Master position a generation later, to his newly adult female disciple, Lu Jiajia.

That year, Lu Jiajia took her place in the Sword Peak Master Hall, offering all dissenters a fair chance to compete. Ultimately, by virtue of her exquisite swordsmanship and miraculous fusion with a sword spirit, she truly took charge of the Hall.

While this appeared graceful, it also sowed seeds of hatred. It was unknown who the mastermind was that had watered this dark seed, allowing it to flourish unnoticed to such an extent.

When the rope broke, Lu Jiajia decisively cut the ties attached to her back. She used her sword to secure herself to the cliff, originally intending to leap to the Dragon-Entangling Pillar opposite and slowly climb to the peak's summit from there.

But she had underestimated herself, underestimated the effect of refining her body into a sword over those seven days.

Flying to the peak's summit by wielding a sword was, by nature, impossible unless one had entered the Purple Court Realm.

However, she suddenly realized that she herself was now an anthropomorphic sword; human and sword had essentially become one. Her sword-wielding technique had reached a level she herself could barely imagine. She found that she could now control her body to float in mid-air, just like riding a sword.

After realizing this, Lu Jiajia felt much more at ease. As she hesitated whether to continue descending to search for someone or to ascend and first stop the internal strife on Hidden Peak, something fell from the sky.

Lu Jiajia realized it was a person. She extended her hand and caught him. After clearly seeing his face with her sword-sight, she embraced him and ascended through the air.

She wasn't sure what emotions she felt. The moment the white figure fell, her intuition told her it was Ning Changjiu. She didn't know why he had fallen from the sky, but she silently carried him, breaking through the black mist's obstruction, and swept up to Hidden Peak, which was already in chaos.

Yazhu stepped forward and said, "Senior Sister, don't be soft-hearted now."

Lu Jiajia remained silent. She disliked disciples harming each other, and even less did she want those old grudges to affect the current generation. But these animosities had apparently never vanished; they had been brewing, finally erupting today.

"Who is the mastermind? Speak, and your life might be spared." Lu Jiajia set down the young man from her arms, entrusting him to Yazhu and Ning Xiaoling's care. She advanced, her sword at the ready. The needle-like sword energy had already converged into a torrential downpour, seemingly capable of pulverizing anything.

Only four Elders remained. They instinctively gathered together, staring nervously at the white figure. The slender woman's ethereal aura had vanished; the energy she emitted now resembled that of a ferocious demon from hell.

Clang.

Someone's sword fell to the ground.

A man with a middle-aged appearance raised his hand and sincerely said, "Peak Master, please forgive me. I am willing to reveal the mastermind."

"You fool, what are you doing? Do you think Lu Jiajia will spare you? Do you think that person will spare you?" A person nearby roared furiously, trying to awaken the one who clearly didn't value his life.

Lu Jiajia unleashed another phantom sword, directly striking the roaring person and severely injuring him, sending him sprawling. Seeing this, the other two suddenly darted away, attempting to flee in separate directions.

Lu Jiajia didn't rush to pursue them. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the middle-aged man and asked, "Who is it?"

The man closed his eyes, his heart ashes, as if he had made his final decision. The blood of too many co-conspirators today had softened his fighting spirit.

But he still couldn't utter the name. Behind him, a colossal sound, like migrating beasts, echoed, making parts of Hidden Peak tremble slightly.

It was the monsters and criminals, breaking free from their cages after the Cold Prison shattered.

He didn't know how he died, perhaps killed by a monster, or perhaps by other co-conspirators hidden in the crowd.

The two who had tried to escape also had their paths blocked. Most of the escaping evil creatures were no match for these Elders, but their sheer numbers were like a sudden flood, leaving the Elders with little room for resistance before they were strangled by iron chains and torn apart by sharp claws.

Lu Jiajia's spiritual eyes flickered. She didn't know why the Cold Prison had broken, and she couldn't yet learn the mastermind's name, but she vaguely guessed that this was an internal problem, and the instigator behind it must be a significant figure among the Four Peaks.

Lu Jiajia couldn't help but think of the Four Peaks Sword Gathering, wondering if that person intended to directly seize the Peak Master position before the gathering.

The Peak Master of Shouxiao Peak had the highest realm and thus no need or reason to devise such a complex plan. The Peak Masters of Xuanyi Peak and Huiyang Peak were siblings with a good relationship, so they likely wouldn't resort to such underhanded tactics for the Peak Master position. Therefore, the mastermind must be someone whose status was second only to a Peak Master, whose strength was insufficient, yet who coveted the Sect Master position!

Lu Jiajia couldn't make many judgments in a short time. The Cold Prison had broken, and as a Peak Master, she absolutely could not stand idly by.

"Yazhu, protect the disciples for me. The rest of you, come with me to kill." Lu Jiajia instructed.

Yazhu acknowledged, and the Elders, led by the man in green, also responded.

"Lu... Jiajia."

Just as Lu Jiajia was about to transform her long sword into a rainbow and depart, the tired voice of the young man suddenly sounded behind her.

Lu Jiajia's heart trembled. She turned her head and saw the pale-faced Ning Changjiu looking up at her. His eyes were only half-open, with little light in his pupils. Although he had no physical wounds, he resembled a dying small animal.

"Mm." Lu Jiajia replied, speaking in a calm voice, "You rest well first. I'll come take care of you later."

Ning Changjiu closed his eyes, and with Ning Xiaoling's help, straightened himself slightly.

"Be careful," Ning Changjiu said.

Their conversation was brief. Yazhu listened, frowning, always sensing an unstated emotion, but she couldn't grasp it, only thinking it was the affection between master and disciple.

Yazhu placed Ning Changjiu, Ning Xiaoling, and the injured, unconscious Nancheng together, healing them one by one. Meanwhile, Lu Jiajia had already taken her sword to slay the entities that had escaped from the Cold Prison.

The white figure with the sword-shroud was like a wisp of cloud escaping the corner of one's eye.

The Cold Prison contained over fifty connected cells, hidden within Hidden Peak. Thus, within this paradise-like immortal peak, in its spirit-rich mountain body, stories of half sin and half betrayal accumulated daily.

Many held in the Cold Prison were prisoners from Skycave Peak or the Heavenly Sword Sect's history, alongside numerous heinous demons.

These demons were not unkillable; they were imprisoned in the Cold Prison because their presence, due to spiritual energy aggregation, gathered spiritual energy for Skycave Peak, providing resources for generations of cultivators. Their spiritual seas and purple mansions, however, had been shattered or sealed, leaving them merely tools for Skycave Peak to absorb spiritual energy.

Years of suffering and endurance had bred an unfillable hatred.

Today, the prison gates finally broke. The tortured beings and evil creatures, who had long wished for death, were like people walking through eternal night who suddenly saw a sliver of light. No matter how fragile or easily broken that light, in lives that had long lost meaning, they still rushed out recklessly.

The ground trembled. The first to burst from the Cold Prison was a colossal beast, half its body bound in chains. A string of prayer beads was wrapped around its neck, and half its body had been severed, the wound resembling a festering, dried apple. Dragging heavy chains, its single arm had no weapon, so it could only break off a giant stalactite to use.

When Lu Jiajia, a white blur, swept in, the disabled beast could feel her immense power, but it still pounced without hesitation.

Behind it, countless other evil creatures poured out. Their movements were either swift or slow. As several octogenarians, still in shackles, emerged from the Cold Prison, their movements also slowed. Their gazes slowly took in the space they hadn't seen in years and the light filtering down from the peak stone like a skylight, their expressions heavy with reminiscence.

At the very front, Lu Jiajia charged towards the gigantic demon. Her sword's edge was wrapped in white light, and her body was also enveloped in sword aura. For a moment, it was impossible to distinguish whether she was human or sword.

The clash between the two lasted but an instant. A slender white light ignited in the center of the giant beast's body, then its upper and lower halves separated and flew apart. From the resulting void, Lu Jiajia, a white figure, cut through flesh and bone, charging directly into the large group of escapees behind it.

The long sword landed, and sword light surged around her body like a whirlwind. The swirling sword light was like stirred dust, instantly eradicating those whose cultivation realms were slightly weaker.

"Those who retreat back into the Cold Prison now may live." Lu Jiajia's voice was extremely penetrating; it instantly suppressed the commotion in the area. Her voice, too, was like a sword, piercing everyone's hearts and making their blood weep.

Facing death either way, these evil creatures were not foolish; they certainly wouldn't willingly return to self-imprisonment. The more cunning ones had already begun searching for escape routes, hoping to slip away amidst the chaos.

As she spoke, several demonic entities lunged at her recklessly, hoping to bite off a piece of the female sword immortal's flesh before they died.

Lu Jiajia drew her sword and swept it, sword energy erupting like mist. It instantly cut out a crescent-shaped beam of light. Before the demonic entities could even reach her, they were swallowed by the sword light, turning into countless fragments.

Lu Jiajia's clear spiritual eyes suddenly gleamed, a snowy light filling her pupils. The sword in her hand was flung directly outwards.

Like a whirling throwing knife, it spun in the air, severing countless heads. She did not wait for the "flying knife" to return, but instead tilted and flashed, transforming into a true sword and darting forward. She was like a white seagull gliding through a red sea; waves crashed upon her, yet not a single drop of vibrant color stained her feathers.

The remaining Elders scattered, moving to block potential escape routes.

Lu Jiajia's figure moved like lightning. Within a few leaps, she drove her sword into the body of a formidable great demon. Her form transformed into a white light, swiftly circling the demon. The sword light shone like a silver ring, slicing its steel-like body in half as easily as tofu.

The immortal sword Minglan circled several times within Hidden Peak before returning to Lu Jiajia's hand. Even after slaying numerous evil creatures, she still had strength to spare. After seven days of body refinement, this was her first truly exhilarating battle. Both her physical strength and the purity of her sword energy far exceeded her imagination. She felt like a snow mountain, whose melting snow transformed into an endless waterfall, continuously washing over everything.

"Lu Jiajia."

In the chaotic environment, someone suddenly called her name.

Lu Jiajia plunged the sword in her hand into the body of a scrawny imp before her, then coldly looked towards the source of the voice.

It was a thin, tall man in grey robes. Though he held no sword, he habitually made the gesture of gripping one. His face was pallid, hidden beneath hair as messy as weeds. He stared at Lu Jiajia, his Adam's apple bobbing as he called out her name.

Lu Jiajia didn't recognize him.

The man in grey smiled and said, "It truly is you. The first time I saw you, you were just a tiny thing. I never imagined you'd grow up like this."

Lu Jiajia remembered. When she first entered the sect, there was a primary school teacher. Later, that teacher attempted to steal from a Sword Immortal of the sect but failed, and was then imprisoned in the Cold Prison.

If they had met on a normal day, after more than a decade apart, Lu Jiajia would likely have recalled their past connection. But now, she would not care for such sentiments.

The man in grey died quickly.

But it wasn't Lu Jiajia who killed him.

He was killed by a hunched old man. The old man held a broken sword, and with one swift stroke, he severed the man's head. He then threw the broken sword back to the ground, bowed to Lu Jiajia, and said, "I am Hongshan, a sinner under the Peak Master's jurisdiction. I greet Peak Master."

He said only this, without further pleasantries, then turned and walked back into the Cold Prison.

This small interlude was brief. Soon, blood splattered from her sword again. Lu Jiajia's white-clad figure was like a relentless demon god, moving in and out, killing until her mind was numb, until bodies piled into mountains, until Hidden Peak was filled with the stench of blood.

They had never seen Lu Jiajia like this, nor did they understand why she had become so powerful.

Could it be that, at a time unknown to anyone, she had secretly attained the Purple Court Realm?

The more they thought about it, the more alarmed they became, and the more they rejoiced in their initial choice of allegiance.

A foul, bloody stench permeated Hidden Peak.

The evil creatures finally lost their nerve from the slaughter. More and more of them retreated back into the Cold Prison, re-entering the sunless darkness.

In the center of Hidden Peak, by the cliff near the Dragon-Entangling Pillar, Nancheng had also awakened. He looked at Ning Changjiu, who was meditating and recuperating beside him, and blurted out, "Senior? You're still alive..."

A little color had returned to Ning Changjiu's face. He made a shushing gesture to Nancheng, as if wanting him to keep a secret.

Yet, Yazhu still heard the address "Senior." She looked at Ning Changjiu with immense surprise, wondering when they had met. How could the chief disciple of the younger generation address Ning Changjiu as "Senior"?

But Yazhu quickly shattered her preconceived notions. She recalled the sword strike Ning Changjiu had used earlier to kill.

She had never seen such a sword; it was as if what was delivered was not a sword, but a death sentence.

Ning Xiaoling also found it quite odd. When had her Senior Brother met this young disciple? And why did the other person look so admiring? Hmm, had Senior Brother deceived someone again?

They quietly sat in meditation, awaiting the outcome of the battle from the Cold Prison.

The sounds of battle drifted from afar, gradually fading from commotion to silence.

Yazhu listened to the sounds, gradually relaxing her guard. And just as she relaxed, a long-planned danger suddenly re-emerged.

Suddenly, one of the corpses on the ground moved.

Earlier, he had shown no aura, and the wound on his chest had been so real, yet he was not dead. A technique similar to breath concealment had hidden him perfectly, only revealing him at this moment. A cold gleam pierced out from his hand, aimed directly at Yazhu's throat.

Although Yazhu held a sword, she couldn't react at all to such a swift attack.

This was a sure-kill strike. The hidden assailant had endured for too long and had already planned his route. After Yazhu's death, he wouldn't even waste time engaging with the other disciples, but would escape directly through a secret passage he had prepared long ago.

A cold glint flashed.

But it was another cold glint.

A sword tip pierced his throat, and the sword in his hand remained frozen an inch from Yazhu's back.

He widened his eyes, his gaze following the sword's patterns forward, to see the white-robed young man's hand gripping the sword.

That hand was beautiful, with slender, distinct fingers like a maiden's.

Yet the hand holding the sword was so firm.

Only at this moment did Ning Xiaoling and Nancheng realize the assassination attempt.

The assassin couldn't comprehend the speed of that sword. He stared at Ning Changjiu, and though his throat was crushed, he still screamed his question with his spirit: "Your realm is clearly so weak, why? Why is your sword so fast?!"

Ning Changjiu didn't even open his eyes, yet he generously provided an answer before the assassin's death: "Realms are a way to measure the strength of ordinary cultivators, not a reason to restrict me."

The assassin died by the corpse-strewn cliffside before he could understand the meaning of that sentence.

"He was also from the Purple Heaven Dao Sect," Yazhu stated definitively, tearing open the corpse's clothes to reveal a talisman carved on its back.

Nancheng asked curiously, "What exactly is the grudge between the Purple Heaven Dao Sect and us, that it persists so tirelessly after all these years?"

Yazhu recalled the sacred artifact Qiyi had mentioned before his death. She had never heard of Skycave Peak concealing any sacred artifact. She merely instinctively stared at the black mist, feeling vaguely uneasy.

Skycave Peak was the weakest of the Four Peaks. After today's rebellion, it would undoubtedly be even worse off.

Fortunately, Lu Jiajia's current realm was incomparable to before. If she could endure this ordeal, she would surely become a truly powerful Peak Master.

Ning Changjiu, however, spoke up: "There is no sacred artifact beneath the peak."

Yazhu was perplexed. "How do you know? Did you really—"

Ning Changjiu recalled some things. He remembered seeing countless artifacts covering the ground, all draped in dust-laden cloth. In the abyss, spirits of the dead permeated the air. If there truly were a sacred artifact as Qiyi had claimed, then in that space teeming with evil spirits, a storm-like eye should have formed. He had not witnessed such a sight at the time.

He couldn't determine whether this memory of his was real or not.

He always felt that everything he had experienced was a dream... and he didn't know who had planted that demonic allure.

Ning Changjiu pressed his lips together, his expression slightly pained. He opened his palm, looking at the scar he had dug into it with his fingernail, deep in thought.

Ning Xiaoling also noticed the scar on his palm. She leaned closer, carefully rubbed Ning Changjiu's hand, and asked, "Are you alright, Senior Brother?"

Ning Changjiu shook his head and said, "I'm fine."

Ning Xiaoling pouted, saying sympathetically, "The five fingers are connected to the heart. How can Senior Brother be fine when he's injured like this?"

Ning Changjiu offered a faint smile, then suddenly his expression sharpened... "Fingers connected to the heart"? Connected... heart!

He suddenly remembered that he seemed to have conveyed something once before.

"Xiaoling..." Ning Changjiu suddenly called her name.

"Yes?" Ning Xiaoling sounded a little confused.

"Do you remember me saying you were my little money pouch?" Ning Changjiu suddenly asked this strange question.

"Of course I remember," Ning Xiaoling said softly. After all, she was still a fourteen-year-old girl, and hearing Ning Changjiu say such a thing in front of so many people made her feel a bit unusual and couldn't help but blush.

Ning Changjiu looked into her eyes and seriously asked, "Little money pouch, have there been any new copper coins lately?"

Ning Xiaoling sensed her Senior Brother's thoughts, and her expression also grew serious. She vaguely understood the implied meaning of his words. She couldn't help but recall some images, feeling a headache. She covered her cheeks, her small face wrinkled in thought.

Ning Changjiu knew things weren't simple. He gently ruffled her head and softly said, "It's alright, Senior Brother was just asking casually. Don't worry about it."

Meanwhile, within Hidden Peak, all sounds finally subsided completely. The ground was strewn with severed limbs and blood, staining everything a reddish-black.

In their sight, a graceful white figure approached from afar, moving from blurry to distinct. Her dark hair was like clouds, and Lu Jiajia's exquisite face appeared pure and sacred amidst the corpses. Her immaculate, plain sword-robe was enveloped by a faint, lingering bloody aura, yet not a single drop of blood had stained it.

"Senior Sister." Yazhu finally let out a breath of relief.

The three disciples also visibly relaxed, smiling as they looked at Lu Jiajia's figure.

"Master." Each of the three spoke in a different tone.

Lu Jiajia looked at them, the frost on her face gradually melting. She recalled the oath she had made when she first began learning the sword: her Master had told her then that all sword arts, even those used to destroy, were for the sake of protection.

As she thought this, blood began to seep from her body, slowly staining her immaculate robe crimson.

It turned out she was also injured.

Yazhu paled in shock and immediately rushed forward, "Senior Sister, what happened?"

Lu Jiajia gently shook her head, indicating her injuries weren't severe. She looked up at the three disciples, though her gaze didn't specifically land on any one of them.

"Let's go," she said.

The others had not yet reacted, but Ning Changjiu naturally stood up and walked to her side.