Chapter Fifty-Five: Flame Takes Action

For Yang Jiangshui, with the cultivation of a perfected Martial Master, there was no one in the Baiyang Sect apart from the elder of the Technique Pavilion who could match him.

Yet, what frustrated Liu Pan was that, though they had already reached the summit of Tianji Peak, Yang Jiangshui arrived when they were still four hundred meters from the Technique Pavilion. Four hundred meters—though a sprint of just a hundred meters might give them a chance to be noticed by the elder within the pavilion, Liu Pan knew how slim that possibility was. Unless something unusual was happening inside, the elder would hardly ever extend his spiritual sense to its fullest.

But this was not the greatest obstacle they faced—the real problem was Yang Jiangshui's speed while riding his sword. Liu Pan and Hu Lang, who was carrying Liu Kuang, had no hope of crossing even those last hundred meters.

In an instant, Liu Pan shifted his gaze to the Wild Desolation Blade in Liu Kuang’s hand.

Yang Jiangshui was furious. The moment he spotted the three, he descended swiftly upon his sword, locking his eyes onto the blade Liu Kuang held. Though he had only heard brief descriptions from the messenger disciples, with his experience, Yang Jiangshui could easily tell this weapon was extraordinary.

In fact, the primary reason Yang Jiangshui rushed to Tianji Peak was not the death of Li Liao, but the Wild Desolation Blade in Liu Kuang’s possession.

He glanced at the Technique Pavilion. Though he didn’t understand what connection these three newly initiated disciples could have with the elder inside, Yang Jiangshui absolutely would not allow the blade to reach within the elder’s grasp.

The elder of the Technique Pavilion had been in Baiyang Sect for seven or eight years, his origins a mystery. Yang Jiangshui knew nothing of his background, nor did anyone in the sect—the only title he bore was “Elder of the Pavilion.”

Though Yang Jiangshui did not know the elder’s roots, from sensing his aura, he was certain the elder’s strength was not much less than his own. A cultivator of such power joining the Baiyang Sect and declaring his intent to serve as the elder of the Technique Pavilion was baffling, yet Yang Jiangshui accepted it. The elder had shown no malice, and the sect needed more strong members to flourish.

Still, though he agreed to the elder’s appointment, Yang Jiangshui remained wary. After all, two tigers cannot share a mountain. Should the elder ever act on a whim, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Because of this vigilance, Yang Jiangshui could not allow the “spirit artifact” in Liu Kuang’s hand to fall into the elder’s possession.

One may know a face, but not a heart; who could say whether the elder’s previous lack of malice was simply because he felt his strength insufficient? The best way to prevent the elder from acquiring the spirit artifact, in Yang Jiangshui’s mind, was to seize it himself.

Sword-riding like a meteor, Yang Jiangshui charged directly at Liu Kuang.

There was a fiery gleam in Yang Jiangshui’s eyes. Though he was the sect leader, he was a poor man, unable to afford such grand treasures as spirit artifacts. Seeing one before him now, his heart naturally surged with excitement.

Liu Pan’s spiritual sense detected Yang Jiangshui’s descent, but he felt only resignation, not fear. When Liu Kuang rushed out earlier, Liu Pan knew he was saved. He had anticipated that the Wild Desolation Blade’s secret would be exposed, but not during his fight with Li Liao—rather, it happened as they fled to Tianji Peak, four hundred meters from the Technique Pavilion. This left him helpless.

Yang Jiangshui’s speed was astonishing. From the moment Liu Pan sensed him, it took only two breaths for the gap to close to barely a dozen meters.

Without slowing, Yang Jiangshui rode his sword straight at Hu Lang and Liu Kuang, reaching out—his target unmistakably the Wild Desolation Blade.

Neither Liu Kuang nor Hu Lang could react to Yang Jiangshui’s speed. Liu Pan did, but his own speed and cultivation were inadequate to intervene. All he could do was fix his gaze on the blade, trusting that, because of the blood-bond, Yan would be aware of everything outside.

A crimson glow flashed. Under Liu Pan’s watchful eye, a fiery red light swept across the blade, and Liu Kuang’s eyes snapped open.

Instantly, a terrifying pressure spread forth. As if struck by an invisible force, Yang Jiangshui’s steel sword, which was about to crash into Hu Lang and Liu Kuang, veered out of his control, its trajectory shifting to pass by Liu Kuang.

At the moment the steel sword veered, Liu Kuang seemed about to swing the blade. As he gripped it tightly, a sharp pain flared on the back of his hand. Looking down, he saw his skin had split open from the force of his grasp.

He frowned slightly, ultimately failing to strike, and could only watch as the unguarded Yang Jiangshui sped past him.

Turning, Liu Kuang looked at Liu Pan, a strange light flashing in his eyes. Then, he casually tossed the Wild Desolation Blade to the ground and stepped atop it.

“Get on.”

His voice was hoarse, and as he spoke, a trickle of blood slid from the corner of his mouth.

Upon hearing Liu Kuang’s invitation, Liu Pan hesitated briefly, then stepped onto the blade. At the same time, he called out to the stunned Hu Lang, “Go find the elder! Let him take care of you. Tell him Liu Kuang will fulfill his promise!”

As Liu Pan finished speaking, a crimson glow flashed from the blade, carrying both men aloft, soaring straight out of Baiyang Sect.

Yang Jiangshui was shaken to his core. When his steel sword lost control and veered past Liu Kuang, he felt the chill of death. He didn’t understand why Liu Kuang hadn’t struck, but the sense of surviving disaster brought him a rush of relief.

Turning, he saw Liu Kuang and Liu Pan rising skyward. Hesitating for a moment, as if struck by some thought, Yang Jiangshui’s eyes glinted, and he immediately rode his sword in pursuit.

At that moment, Hu Lang was utterly bewildered. He hadn’t processed what had just happened and could only stare dumbly in the direction Liu Pan and Liu Kuang had departed, eyes wide and unblinking.

A surge of powerful pressure erupted atop Tianji Peak. The elder in the Technique Pavilion, four hundred meters away, instantly sensed it.

He stepped out of the pavilion, just in time to witness Liu Kuang carrying Liu Pan away on the blade, and Yang Jiangshui pursuing them on his sword.

What was happening? The elder was deeply puzzled, his gaze settling at last on the dazed Hu Lang nearby.