Chapter 166: Nine Infant White Bone Claws

Lightning, like scattered snowflakes, was torn apart from the sky by the violent wind.

Streaks of light descended through the clouds, but before they could spread, they were again obscured by the converging clouds. In the distance, new flashes of lightning illuminated the Heavenly Peak. The curtain of Huanpu Mountain had fallen; the clinging rocks and pine trees began to sink as if collapsing. On the mountaintop, within the pressing dark clouds, the clouds surged and churned like boiling seawater. The ferocious Jiuying, with its nine heads, resembled a gigantic octopus from the deep sea, thrashing on the surface during a storm, clinging to and wrapping around a massive ocean vessel.

Even many years later, this scene would remain seared into the hearts of the disciples of Yujian Tianzong. As they frantically looked on, it was a sight of divine punishment descending, akin to the end of the world.

It was the legendary stage for the night parade of demons, its curtain having fallen with a roar, revealing the vast body of the demon god that commanded all. The impending catastrophe seemed poised to split the pupils of every gazer with thunder and lightning in the very next moment.

Lu Jiajia walked forward against the wind. Ning Changjiu also struggled to his feet from the ground. He touched his waist; aside from the dry, hard iron tree branch that could not be infused with spiritual energy, he had no useful weapon left.

"Come back, you're not his match." Ning Changjiu sprinted over, his spiritual energy suddenly becoming imbalanced. He stumbled and fell, but before he completely lost his balance, he stretched out a hand and caught Lu Jiajia's sleeve.

Lu Jiajia stopped, steadying him. "Slaying demons and monsters is the destiny of cultivators. You understand this."

"We can leave," Ning Changjiu said.

"Now that Tianzong faces a great calamity, with the spiritual veins of the four peaks severed and chaos imminent, my disciples are still waiting for me at Tianku Peak. How can I leave?" Lu Jiajia smiled faintly and continued, "Do you have no faith in me?"

Ning Changjiu remained silent. He looked up at the wild thunderclouds still exploding above Huanpu Mountain. The fierce god from three thousand years ago was demonstrating its power, a power that seemed to exceed Ning Changjiu's initial estimates. Even with Lu Jiajia's current strength, he was not confident she could win.

Lu Jiajia gently pulled her sleeve from his grasp. "When you usually make decisions, do you ever ask for my opinion?"

Ning Changjiu didn't speak. He recalled the moment Lu Jiajia had saved him earlier. He suddenly felt that this seemed like a repayment, and once everything was settled, they would drift apart like two lotus boats on the waves.

He disliked this feeling.

"I'll go with you," Ning Changjiu said.

"Are you afraid I'm too powerful, and Jiuying won't be able to handle it, so you want to cause some trouble for me?" Lu Jiajia smiled faintly, placing both hands on his shoulders. "Go take care of Xiaoling and the others. I'll be back."

Ning Changjiu closed his eyes, sighing with his head bowed. "Then you must come back... Now, almost all of Tianzong's spiritual energy and fortune have been drained. This is inherently incompatible with you, so please be extremely careful."

"Fortune..." Lu Jiajia nodded gently.

Every sect has a unique cultivation method applicable to the entire sect, such as the first half of the Heavenly Decree Sword Scripture for Yujian Tianzong and the Purple Heaven Dao Art for Zitian Daomen.

Everyone in the sect who cultivates this essential method, when gathered, forms an ethereal yet real "fortune." For all who have practiced this method, it's a matter of flourishing together or perishing together. This is why most sects can truly unite against a common enemy, as their very foundation of cultivation is linked from the beginning. Unless one breaks through the Ziting realm into the Five Paths, this connection cannot be severed.

Thus, Han Chi Zhenren, using the authority of the Sect Master, forcibly usurped the fortune of the four peaks. Almost everyone in the sect dropped at least one minor cultivation stage. Although Han Chi Zhenren also suffered some self-damage, the full fortune of the peak easily filled these gaps.

Ning Changjiu said, "Perhaps the founding master of Yujian Tianzong had this idea when he established this grand mountain and river formation back then."

Cultivators who stay too long at a bottleneck, watching themselves slowly age and their grand ambitions wither, often go mad.

"But the founding master never did that in the end," Lu Jiajia said, unwilling to maliciously speculate about anyone who had passed away.

Ning Changjiu replied, "That's why you must become the Sect Master in the future... Only truly kind people can prevent such things from happening again."

Lu Jiajia hesitated for a moment, then unusually nodded.

*If there's still a future*, she thought silently.

As they spoke, several streaks of light, some turquoise, others orange-red, tore through the shattered sky and hovered before Lu Jiajia.

The sword qi paused, revealing the figures of the three peak masters.

"We were just waiting for you," said Jing Yangxia, who was at the forefront.

Lu Jiajia nodded gently.

Yujian Tianzong was now completely divided.

On the same day, the mountain-guarding great sword was activated twice, an unprecedented event in history. Its tip was even pointed at the Sect Master himself.

"Be extra careful," Lu Jiajia said, turning back to him, her final instruction.

Ning Changjiu bowed deeply. "Your disciple bids farewell, Master."

These words resonated in Lu Jiajia's heart, stirring ripples of uncertain meaning.

She momentarily brushed aside this slight tremor in her Dao heart and advanced on her sword.

Four immortal swords converged and gathered in the air. Sword intent solidified like fine sand. The main sword resembled an ancient dragon coiling, and the sword intent twisted like snakes and pythons. A vast and ancient sword qi occupied half the sky; even the Sect Master's Grand Hall seemed tiny in comparison.

The moment the four peak masters' figures vanished, Ning Changjiu instinctively took a step forward, but his foot met only air, causing him to stumble slightly. He braced himself with one hand on the ground and straightened up, only to be met with a hollow feeling in his heart.

He moved his foot and suddenly noticed he had bent a delicate little wild flower.

It had miraculously survived calamity thunder, lightning, and the destructive wash of sword qi, only to be snapped by an unintentional step from a human.

Ning Changjiu looked at the wild flower, then crouched down to set it upright, but its tender stem was already broken, and it remained droopy. Ning Changjiu looked up towards the direction Lu Jiajia had left, feeling even more uneasy under this ominous premonition.

Finally, he stood up and walked towards the summit of Tianku Peak. The little wild flower would turn into withered red and be ground into dust by the coming wind and rain.

At the summit of Tianku Peak, Lu Yuanbai was exasperated by the elders who kept arriving. He wanted to be a knight-errant and believed these people were merely blinded by greed, still capable of redemption, so he was unwilling to kill them.

Just as he was about to give up drawing his sword and decided to lie low, he saw the corpse of an elder on the ground.

The wound on the body was from the back, straight through the heart, clean and direct.

Lu Yuanbai looked up in astonishment, meeting the gaze of a young girl.

Ning Xiaoling held her sword, blood dripping from its tip. Her face was cold, her expression showing disgust, and the pungent smell of blood made her want to retch.

For a moment, Lu Yuanbai had an illusion—the figure standing before him resembled Lu Jiajia's shadow as a child.

It wasn't Ning Xiaoling's first time killing, but she still detested the feeling. Her hand trembled uncontrollably, and anger and nausea surged within her. She glared angrily at the people around her, not understanding why they were still so foolish after cultivating for so many years.

In the midst of the skirmish, many had stopped their swords and gracefully retreated, staring at the girl. "You dare to kill?"

Ning Xiaoling looked up expressionlessly. Yazhu arrived behind her and grasped her wrist. "Fellow sect members, harming each other, you'll fall into demonic ways..."

Ning Xiaoling said nothing.

Yazhu sighed. "Let's wait for Master to return to make a decision."

Before Yazhu finished speaking, in the blink of an eye, a white light swept past. The man who had just spoken developed a blood-hole in his throat. His eyes widened, and he fell to the ground with his flying sword before he could react.

Several people turned their heads together, looking in the direction from which the flying sword had pierced.

Ning Changjiu's white robe was tattered, stained with thunder ashes and calamity dust.

He held a casually picked up, blood-stained flying sword between his fingers. There was no one behind him.

He looked at Ning Xiaoling and said, "Junior Sister, this is truly not something you should do. It's Senior Brother's fault for not protecting you well."

Ning Xiaoling's hand, holding the sword, stopped trembling. She felt a rare sense of peace, and the cold killing intent on her body quickly receded, as if it had never existed. She walked to her senior brother's side, looked at his face, and asked, "Senior Brother, are you alright? Where's Master?"

"Master will be back soon," Ning Changjiu replied.

Ning Xiaoling suddenly explained, "Senior Brother, I didn't kill innocent people indiscriminately."

"I know." Ning Changjiu ruffled her hair, then looked at the corpse on the ground. He glanced at the sword wound and said, "Good swordsmanship."

Then, he looked at the surrounding opponents, who stood as if facing a formidable enemy. "Senior Brother will teach you another sword strike."

"Senior Brother, please don't overdo it," Ning Xiaoling worriedly said.

Yazhu looked at him nervously. "The four peaks are already so chaotic today. Don't make it worse."

Ning Changjiu calmly said, "Won't it be quiet once everyone's dead?"

After speaking, he bent down and began to cough rapidly. He covered his mouth with his hand, and when he removed it, his palm was stained with blood.

Ning Xiaoling grabbed his hand. "Senior Brother, let me do it..."

Ning Changjiu clutched his chest, shaking his head gently.

Many of those surrounding Ning Changjiu had begun to waver, but some whispered, "He's severely wounded; he's just putting on a show. What can he do, no matter how strong, if he's below the Ziting realm?"

"But he stole the Heavenly Decree Sword Scripture."

"The Sword Scripture and a person complement each other. Now he..."

Their discussion was forcibly halted as Ning Changjiu took the sword from Ning Xiaoling's hand and stepped forward.

"Lend me a sword," he communicated to the spirit of the Sword Scripture via his inner voice.

"No!" the Sword Scripture spirit retorted angrily. "If I lend you my sword, my cultivation will also be damaged. And what will you use to compensate me?"

Ning Changjiu remained silent, activating the Golden Crow in his Qi Sea and gazing at the Sword Scripture spirit.

The Sword Scripture spirit had an innate fear of the Golden Crow. After the two stared at each other for a while, the Sword Scripture spirit let down its hair to cover its eyes and conceded, "Alright, alright, just one sword. No more after that..."

Ning Changjiu's golden-tinged pupils suddenly dilated like those of a dead person.

The sword tip wasn't pointed at anyone specific, but a faint, subtle killing intent rippled through everyone's hearts.

Even Ning Xiaoling's heart skipped a beat. She felt her senior brother was both terrifying and unfamiliar at that moment.

Ning Changjiu's robe fluttered as he walked forward.

One step, two steps... As he walked, he clutched his chest and coughed incessantly, like a swordsman weary from a long journey who had caught a slight cold.

Lu Yuanbai looked at his retreating back, sighed, and thought, *Why does this scene feel so familiar? This isn't a heart filled with killing intent; it's clearly someone troubled by love...*

Thinking this, Lu Yuanbai shifted his gaze further away.

It was in the direction of Huanpu Mountain.

On that high mountain, closer to the heavens than the four peaks, the mountain-guarding great sword resembled a large boat formed from rolling black clouds, crashing towards the gigantic reef in the sky.

The figures of the four peak masters, standing suspended in the void, appeared so tiny from afar, as if they could be shredded at any moment by a stray fragment of lightning.

Ning Changjiu's coughing became more rapid, and the gold in his eyes grew denser.

A muffled thud echoed from afar.

The mountain-guarding great sword shattered upon impact with Huanpu Mountain.

After the collision, gray mist engulfed the mountaintop, like a massive explosion, sending swirling smoke and dust sweeping across the land.

On Tianku Peak, the hum of swords and Ning Changjiu's coughing were also swallowed.

When the smoke cleared, Ning Changjiu wiped the blackish blood from the corner of his mouth. He was still coughing incessantly, but his dilated pupils had refocused. His sword had been washed dark red by blood. On the ground, bodies lay scattered haphazardly, a horrifying sight.

Many had died without making a single reaction.

This ancient Sword Scripture, found by the founding master in the depths of the Southern Wilds, was the true foundational artifact of Yujian Tianzong.

Ning Xiaoling stepped over the scattered bodies. She raised her head, gazing straight ahead, surprisingly unafraid.

She walked to her senior brother's side, unhooked the scabbard from her waist, then took his hand, raised the sword he held, aimed the scabbard at the blade, and slid it in.

After the sword returned to its scabbard, Ning Changjiu's body went limp and he collapsed. Ning Xiaoling caught him, hoisted him onto her back, and struggled towards the Inner Peak.

The scene seemed almost ridiculous, yet the area was utterly silent.

The wounded elder assassins were not all dead; powerful as Ning Changjiu's sword strike was, it had been limited by his current strength and ultimately failed to kill them all.

But they made no further moves.

More and more Tianku Peak disciples emerged from the Inner Peak.

They parted to make way for the brother and sister. The male disciples, led by Nancheng, and the female disciples, led by Lerou, all drew their swords, forming a human wall in front of them.

Lu Yuanbai also drew his sword. He rubbed his temples, feeling his sword heart humming ceaselessly, unable to calm down. He took a deep breath, stomped his foot, and simply flew directly towards the Sect Master's Hall on his sword.

People gradually dispersed.

Fires still fell from the sky.

Without the mountain-guarding grand formation, the four peaks appeared somewhat desolate and solemn in this tumultuous world.

The dark black sword cloud shrouding Huanpu Mountain also began to rotate.

Behind the thick sword cloud, three giant lanterns lit up.

The two symmetrically placed lanterns on the sides were the eyes of Jiuying's central head, while the one in the middle was the Heavenly Soul Lamp it held in its mouth. The light from its pupils and the lamp pierced through layers of mist and shone forth.

It arched its massive body again. The nine heads, twisted like giant pythons, resembled nine long whips churning heaven and earth, revealing their true form once the dark clouds dispersed.

"Are you all betraying me too?"

The voice came, whether from Jiuying or Han Chi Zhenren, it was unclear. Jiuying lowered its massive heads, its eyes fixed on the four swords suspended in the air. Its bony body was now covered in death qi.

Xue Xunxue and Xue Lin, the siblings, remained silent.

The mountain-guarding great sword had dissipated, yet they hadn't managed to inflict any substantial injury on Jiuying.

This was also related to the decline of Tianzong's fortune.

Even as peak masters, they were inevitably affected.

Jing Yangxia, after a day of strenuous effort, looked utterly exhausted. The vigorous man he once was could no longer hide the marks of time.

"It is you who betrayed Tianzong!" Jing Yangxia held the Bixiao Sword, his eyes filled with disappointment. "Tianzong's foundation of over three hundred years will be destroyed by you! If Tianzong collapses, before it can be rebuilt, who will protect humanity? What kind of rampant demons will infest this Southern Province? Reverting cities to wilderness—you are defying all living beings!"

Jiuying's central head, with its snake-like eyes, turned towards Jing Yangxia. Han Chi Zhenren's voice slowly resounded, "This is merely your opinion. In a few centuries, history books will describe me as the ancestor of Yujian Tianzong's revitalization."

His words were slow, and Jiuying's movements were equally slow.

At this moment, compared to its body, the entire mountain peak seemed like a precarious rock in the ocean, giving a sense of imminent collapse.

Time seemed to rewind to thousands of years ago, when cultivators were still exploring methods of practice. Countless exceptionally talented individuals had gone astray, succumbing to inner demons and perishing. That era was the most chaotic for both demons and gods in the human realm. The True Dragon clan rampaged across land and sea, the Heavenly Phoenix clan dominated the sky, and humanity struggled for survival in the crevices. The rise of heroes was slow, but their demise was astonishingly swift. Many cultivators who had entered the Five Paths didn't even leave their names in history, becoming mere bones beneath the throne of some fierce demon king.

How desperate must humanity have been when facing such colossal monsters back then?

A millennium later, this fear and powerlessness had descended once more.

The swords in the hands of the four peak masters seemed like scattered bookmarks before it.

"You are not its match. I will go." Lu Jiajia walked through the air, floating towards Jiuying's main head. Her words were neither light nor heavy, but even the most violent thunder could not drown them out.

Xue Xunxue looked at the serene and distant beautiful face of this junior and suddenly flared up in anger. "What are you showing off for, little girl?"

With that, she reached out, grabbed the Wen Yun Sword at her side, and slashed towards Jiuying.

Lu Jiajia frowned and immediately followed on her sword. Although Jing Yangxia's Bixiao Sword had lost most of its luster, his speed in drawing his sword was not slow in the slightest. And Xue Lin, who had initially harbored thoughts of retreat due to his inner fear, gave a self-deprecating smile after his sister flew off on her sword and followed suit.

Huanpu Mountain plunged into chaos.

The sword cloud that had exploded and dispersed from the mountain-guarding great sword previously, now spread outwards in a massive ring, sweeping over the four peaks. Wherever the ring-shaped sword cloud spread, vegetation turned to ash.

Jiuying stood on Tianku Peak, each of its heads like a peerless sharp sword.

Almost all of the strongest cultivators still alive in Yujian Tianzong's current generation had gathered here, yet the battle, which would shake the history of the sect, ended far quicker than they had initially anticipated.

Xue Xunxue and Xue Lin didn't even last ten moves. Their swords, upon striking Jiuying's heads, left only faint white marks. After maneuvering between the chaotic nine heads for a moment, they were repelled by Jiuying's sweeping tail. Had they not simultaneously summoned their innate spirits, this tail strike could have instantly rendered them incapable of fighting.

The higher a cultivator's realm, the harder it is for them to reveal their innate spirit. Even during the battle when Zitian Daomen pressed at their gates, they were not forced into such despair as to manifest their true spirits.

But now, they summoned their innate spirits merely for simple defense.

As the rumors stated, the innate spirits of these siblings were both incomplete tigers; one lacked an eye, the other lacked a tail. The two large tigers used their massive bodies to block the attacks, covering their escape from the central chaotic area. However, the tiger bodies were bruised all over, and their spiritual energy quickly became unsustainable.

Jing Yangxia, being in the highest realm, could cut through Jiuying's scales and leave noticeable wounds with his sword, but he couldn't decapitate it with a single blow, making his efforts futile.

Han Chi Zhenren showed no mercy to this elder of his own generation.

After Xue Xunxue and Xue Lin temporarily retreated, two of Jiuying's heads, like sharp swords, thrust towards Jing Yangxia.

Jing Yangxia was forced to transition from his initial reckless offense to defense. Those ferocious giant heads crashed down like boulders, one after another. After each clash, the Bixiao Sword dimmed a little. Amidst the banging impacts, he was continuously forced backward. He wondered if it was an auditory hallucination, but eerie sounds emanated from each charging giant head.

"Haven't tasted blood in thousands of years..."

"Feels like I've grown a tumor in my brain..."

"Ah, my father king's concubines back then were truly soft-skinned and tender-fleshed. I'll never forget their blood for as long as I live..."

"What era is this now?"

"Who knows, but these humans with weapons are still so vulnerable."

"Hmm? This woman in white seems rather good."

"I wonder if her blood tastes good..."

"Wait... you... haven't you noticed, she looks a bit like that woman!"

"That woman?"

"That woman! Impossible!"

The nine heads exploded simultaneously, countless chaotic voices buzzing like fishwives quarreling. As these voices entered Jing Yangxia's ears, he felt his brain was about to burst.

"You're scared silly, thinking it's her just because you see a woman in white! That woman died long ago. Heavenly Monarch Yuanfu killed her and her husband back then!"

"Yes... she died long ago, even someone like that can die..."

"That's right, they're all dead. In the future world, who can stop us?"

Not knowing of the existence of the Lord of the God Realm, it merely believed that with the main gods dead, the secondary gods would become the new main gods!

Jiuying roared, its consciousness fragmenting. At that moment, it even overwhelmed Han Chi Zhenren's control.

Jing Yangxia finally couldn't hold on and was sent flying by a heavy headbutt. Lu Yuanbai, who had just arrived, caught him. Lu Yuanbai looked closely at the giant monster, then at the injuries of the elderly Peak Master Jing Yangxia. After weighing his options, he decided to take the old Peak Master away to treat his wounds first.

Before Jiuying, only the white-robed figure still fluttered violently in the wind.

The nine heads of Jiuying continued their chaotic chatter, which soon turned into enraged roars.

"Kill her, kill her!"

"All women in white should die!"

"I want to tear off her flesh and drink her blood!"

"Kill her, kill her!!!"

Without the interference of other cultivators, Jiuying's nine heads all simultaneously aimed at Lu Jiajia.

The gray mist on Huanpu Mountain had not yet completely dispersed. Jiuying's nine heads resembled nine massive bridges spanning the sky in a vast misty expanse.

And Lu Jiajia stood before the bridges, her sword-like eyes bright as the midday sun. Her snow-white sword robe billowed as if filled by a strong wind, hissing and sizzling with lightning-like sword qi. In the strong wind, her dark hair wildly scattered and danced. Surrounded by Jiuying, her figure remained motionless, yet the sword intent emanating from her climbed steadily, as if it could cleave the demon god and Huanpu Mountain in two!

After briefly regaining control of his consciousness, Han Chi Zhenren stared intently at the woman before him.

The sword essence on her was so familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before... His original memory chain regarding Liantian Town broke again. He couldn't recall what had happened, but an instinctive fear arose within him.

Each of Jiuying's heads had developed its own consciousness, so this fear could not be conveyed to every single head.

His realm when he forcibly merged with Jiuying had ultimately been too low, preventing him from suppressing Jiuying's ferocity now. Even controlling just the central head was difficult.

Countless voices rose and fell chaotically in his mind. Han Chi Zhenren knew this was a sign of succumbing to inner demons.

"You are a member of Tianzong. The sect's fortune is declining, so why does your cultivation not decrease but instead increase? You clearly betrayed Tianzong yourself, so why pretend to be a savior here?" Han Chi Zhenren shouted desperately, hoping Lu Jiajia would answer. That way, he could latch onto an anchor point and prevent himself from being quickly overwhelmed.

But Lu Jiajia turned a deaf ear.

The sword qi of the Minglan Sword in her hand erupted, and Xue Yujun, who served as its artifact spirit, finally flew out, like a fish playing ashore during high tide.

Xue Yujun had gradually regained some consciousness. It was about to congratulate itself on regaining freedom, hoping to diligently slay evil spirits in the future, regain its physical body, and then once again become a qualified Demon King of the Southern Province.

But it looked up, dumbfounded.

*What kind of monster is this?* Its entire body now wasn't even as large as one of the opponent's pupils.

"This... this..." Xue Yujun's eyes widened. It immediately turned back, then saw Lu Jiajia's sword intent, which seemed intent on cutting the nine-headed monster and the mountain beneath it into a thousand pieces. Terrified, like a chicken caught in the rain, it clasped its wings and, along with its grand ambitions, trembled and burrowed back into the relatively safe sword.

The moment Xue Yujun burrowed back into the sword, Lu Jiajia tapped the hilt, and the Minglan Sword shot away like a rainbow, while her figure, still at the original spot, was merely an afterimage.

Within her, the sword embryo, largely melted away, hummed incessantly.

The circular sword cloud in the sky seemed to have been summoned, converging again the moment Lu Jiajia's figure moved.

The sword ring, like a rope, sought to firmly bind Jiuying. Jiuying's nine heads, like raging thunder, tore through the sword ring, but it could not catch Lu Jiajia's lightning-fast figure. Sharp scraping sounds continuously resounded on Jiuying's body, and at the end of each sound was a sword mark deep into the bone. Lu Jiajia and the Minglan Sword were on separate sides, both shrouded in white shadows. For a moment, it was impossible to tell who was the person and who was the sword.

Lu Jiajia stepped over the nine heads, and within a few breaths' rise and fall, she arrived atop its central head.

Person and sword converged from two sides at this precise moment.

Lu Jiajia stood in the middle of the serpent head, gripping the sword hilt with both hands, fingers interlocked, and plunged it downward.

The Minglan Sword touched Jiuying's head. Substantial sword qi shot out in streaks, transforming into streams of white energy that spiraled around the sword tip as their center.

Jiuying let out a painful roar.

"Kill her! Kill her!"

All heads roared in unison, deafeningly.

Jiuying had no sharp claws, but the four heads on each side of its body bent at this moment. They were like a pair of gleaming, four-clawed scimitars, thrusting out. After exerting force, nothing could withstand them; they could destroy enemy leaders as easily as piercing through rotten earth!

These bony claws of Jiuying, which had once killed cultivators within the Five Paths, now, three thousand years later, slashed towards the white-robed woman in her early twenties.