Chapter 18: Old Fox's Blaze

Not a single drop of rain could fall onto Phoenix Lake. The vast lake was already covered in thick ice. Water vapor floating in the air condensed, turning into a shower of snow and hail.

A woman from the Sword Edict Heavenly Sect, her face obscured by a mask, stood on the lake's surface, propped up by her sword. Blood seeped from the lower edge of her mask.

She raised her head.

In mid-air, the old man was encircled by the demonic fox's blood-red phantom, while the Witch Lord, gripping an ancient, seemingly burning scroll, struggled to maintain his stance.

The woman wiped the blood from her chin with the back of her hand. As she exhaled softly, the ice beneath her feet suddenly cracked, and she shot up from the surface, transforming into a streak of sword energy that slashed toward the blood-red phantom.

*Clang*

Although the woman's sword strike seemingly hit empty space, it felt as if it struck something substantial, emitting a metallic clang.

A soft exclamation arose from the old fox in mid-air.

Its eighty-one illusory forms converged into one. It violently lashed its tail, shaking off the sword that had struck its back. Simultaneously, the surrounding wind and snow surged towards its position, visibly filling the gash that had just been cut in its back.

Though the sword was deflected, she used two fingers of her other hand to unleash another burst of sword energy. This energy, shaped like a disc, struck the old fox's body at high speed before suddenly exploding into countless dazzling, arc-shaped sword energies that simultaneously sliced at its colossal form.

"'Sword techniques in this world are growing increasingly ostentatious, but the divine essence within them has truly plummeted compared to five hundred years ago,' the old fox sneered, its eyes suddenly deepening. Its ethereal body hardened instantly like rock, deflecting the sword energies. 'I don't know where you learned your techniques; you're simply wasting a good foundation.'"

As it spoke, the wind and snow raged. The woman parried the backlash of demonic energy with her horizontal sword, drifting back several steps.

She gazed at the massive figure and stated coldly, "My skills are still shallow; they have nothing to do with my sect."

The old fox gently shook its head. "The depth of a sword's divine essence isn't determined by the depth of cultivation. Five hundred years ago, when Sword Saint Qiu Ziguan was still a mere child, mountain spirits raided his village. While half-asleep, he unleashed a single sword strike, and those mountain spirits actually bowed their heads and retreated. He hadn't even begun cultivating then."

The woman frowned slightly. Perhaps five hundred years was too long ago, for she had never heard of a Sword Saint named Qiu Ziguan in history, nor did she believe the claim of an uncultivated person repelling spirits and gods with a single sword stroke.

The old fox glanced at her and said, "I initially thought you had potential and wanted to offer a few pointers, but it seems you're also an unperceptive fool. If you can leave this ice lake today with your sword, then I'll consider sparing your life."

"'Don't think you can disrupt my mind,' the woman said, shaking her head lightly and dispelling distracting thoughts."

Although this old fox's manifested form was colossal and its Daoist magic unfathomable, it was ultimately just a wisp of a remnant soul, and its cultivation was no deeper than her own. Her thoughts, naturally, were not of escaping the lake, but of achieving victory.

Amidst the wind and snow, the woman retreated slightly. A long, resonant clang erupted between her sword and robes. The sword moved with lightning speed, rising and falling, and a white rainbow descended from the sky to strike the old fox's manifested form.

Behind the old fox, the Witch Lord, who had fallen onto the ice, briefly recovered his breath. Just moments ago, he had been plagued by demonic thoughts. Had it not been for the woman's sword energy intervening, he might already be dead.

A cold resolve surged from the depths of his mind. No longer holding anything back, he shouted, "Hold him off for half a moment!"

As he spoke, he once again unfurled the ancient scroll, which was one with his mind. He silently chanted an ancient incantation. A faint, archaic aura emanated from him, and the surrounding wind and snow dissipated. The scroll in his hand turned its pages without wind, and with a rustling sound, characters floated out one after another, disassembling and reassembling in mid-air.

The woman understood immediately. Her long sword flew from her grasp, guided by spiritual energy to entangle the manifested form. Simultaneously, she clasped her hands, and spiritual energy surged from her spiritual sea, striking the old fox like white dragons swallowing wind and spitting snow.

"'Sword Lock?' The old fox's expression shifted slightly. Its body descended, attempting to evade the coiling path of the white dragons."

This was the first time in the battle that he had voluntarily yielded ground.

His descent, however, was precisely towards where the Witch Lord was unfurling his scroll and casting his spell.

The woman's expression turned frigid. Three rainbows converged; the sword lock was nearing completion. How could she allow him to escape so easily?

The swirling wind and snow transformed into sword energy, which then intertwined into chains. These chains, connected end to end, blocked the old fox's path.

She let out a clear whistle, her figure vanishing from the spot. Her long sword, like snow and frost, tore through the ice and snow, following in her wake.

"'The heavens and earth as locks, sword energy as chains – a fine technique indeed.' A flicker of surprise crossed the old fox's narrow eyes, quickly followed by disdain. 'If my physical body were still here, this might trap me for a brief moment, but now...'"

Before it could finish, the woman and her sword struck together. The old fox's figure, like a ball of fire, was instantly torn into pieces by the sword's wind. The three sword rainbows attempted to bind the old fox, but at that moment, its already fragmented form suddenly burst like exploding fireworks, transforming into countless tiny sparks.

Those flames no longer resembled fire, but rather flowing water.

How could a great lock across a river possibly halt the eastward flow of water?

The old fox's soul bypassed the gaps in the sword energy chains, re-forming as it directly rushed towards the Witch Lord.

But the Witch Lord had also lied earlier.

He didn't need a full moment. The instant the old fox's soul passed through the sword lock, he had already completed the ritual.

The old man's eyes suddenly opened, gleaming with a sharp, intimidating light, and he chanted rhythmically:

"Daming Tower, Hong Manor, Zhenshan Residence, You Pavilion."

Streaks of light and shadow, both illusory and substantial, converged around the old man, taking the forms of the grand towers and deep mansions he had named. These structures originated from the Imperial City of Zhao and had been replicated within this ancient scroll. At this moment, the spirits hidden deep within the ancient scroll's text were drawn out; even decaying wood shone brightly.

Tall towers like swords, mansions like mountains.

The old fox's figure fell into the formation, once again shattered into pieces, scurrying wildly within the grand array like fireflies.

The old man held the scroll high, like a pilgrim, continuously chanting name after name, intending to press his advantage and suppress it. The old fox was currently in soul form, and these book-borne images, being insubstantial, were perfectly capable of overwhelming it.

And at that moment, the woman's sword also arrived.

Within the illusory city walls, human figures, fox phantoms, flames, and snow shadows collided like ricocheting bullets, separating and then crashing together again.

The ice surface below was torn and dissolved by spiritual energy, and half the lake water began to melt at a visibly rapid rate. This indicated that the old fox's spiritual power was also rapidly diminishing. The Witch Lord, now advanced in age, also found his body struggling to bear the strain of using the ancient scroll.

Both he and the old fox were waiting for the other to exhaust themselves first.

The old man was now standing on a piece of floating ice. He clutched his chest, coughed violently, then rasped:

"East Palace, Changxiang Hall, Zhaixing Pavilion..."

On Phoenix Lake, the illusory structures floated like a mirage, yet they formed a vast, sprawling expanse, a century-old ancient city condensed within that space.

"Jiazi Hall, Jiuling Terrace, Qianyu..."

The old man's voice trembled, and the word 'Hall' caught in his throat, turning into a prolonged sigh. Qianyu Hall was destroyed; it no longer existed. The Daoist manifestation of this mighty city, after all, was missing its final element.

The rustling sound of turning pages also seemed like a sigh. Because of that missing element, this ancient city was ultimately incomplete.

Within the Imperial City's Daoist manifestation, the old fox suddenly halted. The firefly-like lights reattached to its body. Within this ancient city, even its colossal manifested form appeared somewhat minuscule.

"'Is that all?' The old fox spoke in human tongue, asking softly."

As soon as its voice fell, the woman's sword was close behind. A sharp tearing sound rang out as the old fox directly reached out and seized the incoming sword blade. They were human-like hands, with ten fingers gripping the sword blade, holding it firmly. The sword energy shooting from the blade likewise mangled its hand.

The woman's expression shifted slightly. The old fox choosing to directly receive this sword strike was a prime opportunity for her to gravely wound it. But for some unknown reason, an ominous premonition suddenly made her sword-heart sound an alarm.

The Witch Lord also felt this strange sensation.

But he no longer had time to consider anything else. The scroll had reached its last page, the grand array was activated, and the Imperial City, existing between illusion and reality, pressed down on the old fox. That was truly using an entire city as a lock.

Even if you were surging water, you could only bypass it. How much more so now, trapped within, with the city gates closed, could you possibly escape?

But at this moment, which should have decided victory or defeat, the woman suddenly transformed into a sword rainbow and retreated at extreme speed.

The Witch Lord felt a strange unease, and then, his ominous premonition was confirmed the very next moment.

A point of light reflected in his cloudy, aged eyes, then that light rapidly expanded, turning into a ball of fire. The fire was not tangible, yet it raged with immense ferocity, spreading towards the entire city.

A sea of fire hung high in the sky. The old fox stood amidst it, its form suddenly growing hundreds of feet tall.

"How is that possible!" The Witch Lord and the white-robed woman exclaimed simultaneously.

Previously, the old fox had used profound Daoist magic to freeze the lake water into ice, leading them to believe that its fiery form was merely a deception, and its cultivation was fundamentally based on ice-cold magic. And when the white-robed woman touched its flames, she indeed felt no temperature. But now, with a sea of fire hanging high in the sky, they both felt a scorching heat that burned their very souls.

The Imperial City could contain water, but it could not withstand the rampant fire waves, which seemed as though they would only cease when all things were incinerated. The ancient scroll in the Witch Lord's hand was affected; its edges began to curl, showing faint signs of being scorched by flames.

"'Ice and fire existing in one body – how is this possible?' the woman murmured to herself. If not for her mask, her almost panicked shock would have been clearly visible."

The old fox strolled leisurely through the sea of fire, reducing the tall buildings and grand courtyards to ashes with every casual gesture. It glanced at the white-robed woman and sneered, "You are already half a step into the Purple Court realm, yet your vision is still so shallow? This Nanzhou is indeed too small, believing that occupying immortal mountains and living in seclusion constitutes true cultivation. Ha, if you perish here today, it will be no injustice."

The white-robed woman struggled to steady her wavering sword-heart. The long sword hovered by her side, buzzing and trembling as if in protest.

The old fox seemed to have been suppressed beneath the city for too long. Now finally unleashed, after a satisfying battle, it was willing to speak a few more words. It reminisced, "More than five hundred years ago, I entered that subterranean fire vein, my fur completely scorched, my body covered in wounds. Do you know what I saw deep within the earth's core?"

The old fox answered its own question: "I saw a sea of ice, separated from the flowing magma by only a thin layer of viscous rock. After that, when I was cold, I would bathe in magma; when I was hot, I would meditate in the sea of ice. Decades later, I finally comprehended the law of balance in all things. That day, I broke through the Purple Court and entered the Five Paths, even vaguely glimpsing the three realms beyond. Unfortunately, my greed for seeking the Dao nearly shattered my hard-earned cultivation. Fortunately..."

As the old fox spoke, a nostalgic expression appeared on its face, and it sighed faintly:

"'Fortunately, at that time, I met a Saint...'"

"A Saint?" Even at a critical juncture of life and death, the white-robed woman couldn't help but voice her skepticism.

The old fox's voice was slow, as if burdened by the weight of five hundred years: "The Saint lectured to me on scriptures, analyzed the laws of heaven and earth with me, and helped me grasp the true inequalities and equalities of the world. At that time, he said something to me... After that, I no longer pursued those three realms, and thankfully so, for that's how I survived the catastrophe five hundred years ago and remain to this day."

This was the old fox's true heartfelt thought, one it often pondered to itself deep within the underground palace. Now that it was finally out, regardless of who was listening or the current situation, it still wanted to speak, simply because it had to vent.

"'A Saint... a Saint appeared five hundred years ago?' The white-robed woman, well aware this was a matter of life and death, still couldn't help but press for details."

The old fox did not rush to attack, patiently saying, "That was a true Saint, one who would break through obstinacy and lead the world towards great freedom. It's just that the laws of heaven and earth are as they are, alas..."

The sigh echoed throughout the Imperial City.

Flames consumed the sky.

The mirage-like Imperial City finally went up in flames. And after the great fire lost its foundation, it gradually dissipated on its own. The scorched earth of the entire city turned to cinders and drifted down.

The white-robed woman wanted to draw her sword, but she felt her sword-heart waver, even a subtle sense of dread.

The Witch Lord's body had already collapsed onto a floating piece of ice. He gazed at the empty sky, unable to believe that the magnificent and unparalleled phenomenon from moments ago had vanished in an instant. The ancient scroll in his hand, with most of its spiritual energy dissipated, had also fallen silent.

The old fox, ablaze with flames, landed before him.

"'With the city broken, home and country are gone; seeking immortality and the Dao was all in vain.'"

The Witch Lord murmured to himself, old tears streaming down his face. A thought suddenly flashed through his mind: *If only the Empress were here.* He didn't know if the Empress was still alive after that day. If she had died, why was there no body? If she was alive, where was she now?

The old fox's figure, trailing flowing fire, passed by his side.

The flames, like a sword, pierced through his heart. That cold soul radiated the true heat of flames. Yet the Witch Lord only felt an immense chill spread through his body. And so, this old man, who had lived almost as long as the state of Zhao, died with that last thought.

"'That young girl told me that disrupting the fortune of Zhao would bring severe backlash. I thought killing you would greatly deplete me, but I never expected your heart was no longer with this country.'"

The old fox grabbed the ancient scroll, which was about to fall, and swallowed it whole.

Deep within the underground palace, within the black furnace, the soul's true form suddenly opened its eyes. An iron chain shattered in response.

The old fox's soul entered the Witch Lord's body. The old man's body then stood up stiffly, like a walking corpse. He turned his head to look at the grim-faced white-robed woman in mid-air.

After their gazes met, the woman no longer hesitated, taking flight on her sword.

"'Still quite clever,' the Witch Lord, possessed by the old fox, stretched his limbs. That wisp of soul also swept out from the underground palace and merged into his body. He grinned, 'Too bad it's too late.'"