"Are you the Scourge of the North?"
The Liao man furrowed his brows and looked toward the origin of the clear, ringing voice. There, seated high upon the dais of the main hall, sat a cultivator dressed in azure robes. The cultivator sat with utter casualness, yet the Scourge of the North sensed in him the true meaning of heaven and earth, as though he had been destined to be this way from birth. Sitting there, he was heaven; he was earth.
The Liao man struggled to prop himself up. "I am Hule Gao'en—"
"I have no interest in your name," the azure-robed cultivator said flatly. "Knowing who you are is enough. Have you ever possessed any treasures?"
"Treasures? Look at the state I am in—do I look like someone who has treasures on him? Even if I did, wouldn't you have confiscated them long ago?"
The azure-robed cultivator said, "I asked what treasures you have ever had. Anything that has passed through your hands counts."
The Liao man narrowed his eyes. "Why should I tell you? Now that I've fallen into your hands, kill or carve me as you please! From the day I fell into the Shamans' hands, I never expected to return alive!"
The azure-robed cultivator raised a brow slightly. "Do I look like a Shaman to you?"
The Liao man sneered. "I know you are human, but to me, humans and Shamans are all the same. There's no way I'm walking out alive anyway. I might as well die with some dignity."
The azure-robed cultivator closed the book beside him. "Very well. Then go die."
Two cultivators walked in, hoisted Hule Gao'en up, and began hauling him outside.
"Wait!" Hule Gao'en shouted. He stared intently at the azure-robed cultivator. "Since you know I am the Scourge of the North, you should know who I am! Among the tens of thousands of cultivators in Great Liao's northern territories, how many could refuse the gifts of immortals? Why do you not ask what techniques I wield, but only what treasures I have used?! Could it be that the earth-shattering prowess I possess isn't worth as much as mere dead objects?!"
Without even lifting an eyelid, the azure-robed cultivator said indifferently, "What you are like does not matter."
Hule Gao'en felt blood rush to his head, fury nearly bursting from within him. He barked, "I am not afraid to die! I just don't want to die in ignorance! Answer my final question clearly, and I will answer whatever you ask!"
The azure-robed cultivator's gaze finally settled upon him. Frowning slightly, he said, "Your attitude changes rather quickly."
"That's only because you..."
The moment the words left his mouth, Hule Gao'en realized something was amiss.
Under the piercing gaze of this azure-robed cultivator, he found it shockingly difficult to control his emotions, burning with a desire to prove something.
Looking closely now, the azure-robed cultivator could hardly be described as handsome or plain. He was simply incomparably lucid, pure, and luminous—like a beam of light. A beam of sword light.
Hule Gao'en's breath caught for a second. He finally understood why he had lost his composure. The very realm he had pursued his entire life was now laid bare before his eyes!
The azure-robed cultivator asked nothing further, merely stating, "The treasures that passed through your hands concern Yuan'er's path, so naturally I must ascertain them. As for you, regardless of what arts you wield or whether you received the gifts of immortals, you could never stand in my way or hinder my attainment of the Dao. Naturally, I care nothing for you."
Though Hule Gao'en was fluent in the human tongue, he had to ponder those words for a moment before grasping their meaning.
The instant he understood, another wave of rage surged straight to the crown of his head and erupted into a roar: "Are you saying I don't even qualify to be your stepping stone?!"
Not a single ripple stirred in the azure-robed cultivator's eyes. It was not even tacit acknowledgment; he simply treated the roar like the sound of wind, rain, or mere background noise.
The Scourge of the North found this impossible to stomach and wanted to roar again, but when the azure-robed cultivator's eyelids lifted slightly, he immediately clamped his mouth shut, eager to hear what he would say.
The azure-robed cultivator seemed lost in thought. After a moment, he snapped back to the present and said, "Then I shall give you a chance to prove yourself. I will give you three days to heal your injuries, and then we will have a fair duel. If you can land even a single counterattack, I will consider it my loss."
Hule Gao'en stared at the azure-robed cultivator, his eyes suddenly widening in disbelief. "You... your cultivation is..."
"Dao Foundation. What of it?"
"I am in the late stage of the dharma idol realm!"
The azure-robed cultivator said flatly, "I know."
Before Hule Gao'en could speak, he waved his hand, and the two cultivators dragged Hule Gao'en out.
***
Three days later, on the grand drill ground, the wind howled.
Having fully recovered from his injuries, Hule Gao'en arrived at the center of the grounds early. Standing erect like a pine, he waited peacefully while tuning his state of mind and dharma body to their peak.
Aside from the guard cultivators, spectators began trickling in. The few female cultivators who arrived possessed beauty rarely seen in the mortal world, but that was beside the point. Their auras were each more unfathomable, bizarre, and profound than the last, every single one making Hule Gao'en feel as though he stood at the brink of an abyss, treading on thin ice!
Then came several male cultivators. Apart from two who were obscenely good-looking, the rest also made Hule Gao'en inexplicably nervous. Looking across them one by one, he didn't dare claim certain victory against a single one!
At this moment, Hule Gao'en suddenly felt that his past pride was a joke. How could such a remote corner of the world gather so many geniuses? With so many dharma idol cultivators present, could he actually be in the lower-middle tier?
Then a bizarre thought crept into his mind: *What if I'm at the very bottom...?*
Hule Gao'en shook his head vigorously, refusing to accept such a preposterous notion.
The appointed hour arrived, yet the azure-robed cultivator had not appeared.
As Hule Gao'en waited, he gradually grew restless, but there was still no sign of the azure-robed cultivator. Only after the time it took to drink a cup of tea did he arrive at a leisurely pace.
Upon arrival, the azure-robed cultivator simply asked, "Shall we begin?"
Hule Gao'en had wanted to say, *Using such petty tricks to shake my Dao heart is rather beneath you,* but he immediately remembered that the other party was merely a Dao Foundation cultivator, and that he himself was bullying the junior. So he swallowed his words and nodded, saying coolly, "Let us begin."
The moment he spoke, he realized to his astonishment that he was subconsciously mimicking the other man's manner of speech and bearing.
With the start of the duel, the azure-robed cultivator stood with hands clasped behind his back, motionless—yet the sky was instantly filled with sword light!
Hundreds of immortal swords came shrieking down, erecting a tomb of swords in the center of the drill ground in an instant! And Hule Gao'en was buried right at its heart.
Before his consciousness faded, Hule Gao'en had only one thought left: *So this is what a true sword cultivator is...*
The cultivators from the Palace of Grand Beginning who had come to watch had thought the famous Scourge of the North would put up some sort of struggle. Instead, he couldn't put up any resistance at all. Now they had no idea how long they would have to wait before someone could finally knock that arrogant guy in azure down a peg.
The immortal swords dispersed, and the azure-robed cultivator had already drifted away. Looking at the unconscious Scourge of the North, the Palace of Grand Beginning cultivators sighed and shook their heads, exasperated by his utter failure to put up a decent fight.
***
Xiaoyu watched the duel and gained nothing from it, so he had no choice but to return to Yong'an City to resume handling official duties.
The moment he stepped into the City Lord's estate, he sensed something off in the atmosphere, and Star Lord Shaoyang suddenly fell silent.
Knowing something was amiss, Xiaoyu thought of retreating, but that familiar, cool voice drifted from the main hall: "Everyone is here. We were just waiting for you."
Bracing himself, Xiaoyu walked into the main hall. Zhang Sheng, clad in azure, sat at the head of the room, with Feng Chutang, Bao Yun, Ji Liuli, Feng Tingyu, and Cui Yu flanking him on either side.
Seeing this lineup, Xiaoyu found an empty seat off to the side and sat down.
Seeing that everyone had gathered, Zhang Sheng said, "Ever since Wei Yuan fell into the Shamans' treacherous trap, I have noticed that your spirits have been low these days, everyone looking rather crestfallen. This will not do.
"I have decided: in seven days we shall muster the troops, and seven days after that, the grand army will march!
"I will lead one army, and each of you will lead an army of your own, advancing along separate routes to strike in unison. In this battle, we will show the world that even without Wei Yuan, Qingming remains invincible."
Feng Chutang asked, "Who are we fighting?"
"Decide for yourselves. Attack whomever you find an eyesore."
Bao Yun asked, "How many troops do we each lead?"
Zhang Sheng pondered briefly and said, "Twenty thousand each, assembled as you see fit."
Feng Tingyu asked, "And you?"
Zhang Sheng said flatly, "Ten thousand will suffice for me."
None of the cultivators spoke. Xiaoyu was somewhat baffled, pondering Zhang Sheng's motives, when Star Lord Shaoyang spoke up in his mind: "You still don't get it? This is a duel in disguise! They're taking advantage of Wei Yuan's absence to quickly determine who's the best among them!"
Xiaoyu suddenly felt apprehensive. "Is that so?! I... I won't end up in last place, will I?!"
Star Lord Shaoyang was composed, saying in a deep voice, "What are you afraid of?! What do you think a family clan is for? It's meant to be used at times like this! Call for backup—don't be embarrassed! It's only embarrassing if you actually take last place!"
For the first time in his life, Xiaoyu felt completely righteous and justified in asking his clan for help.
***
Hule Gao'en slowly woke up to find himself inside a dungeon. His dharmic power was riddled with holes, his body thoroughly filled with sword qi, leaving him weaker than an ordinary mortal.
A jailer entered the cell, set down brush and paper, and said, "Orders from above: you are to list every single treasure that has ever passed through your hands, regardless of size or grade. Once your dharmic power recovers, you must also leave an imprint of each treasure's aura."
Hule Gao'en gave a bitter smile. "A bet's a bet; since I lost, I shall naturally hold nothing back and answer everything I know."
The jailer said, "It's best that you understand this yourself. He who recognizes the circumstances is a wise man. Take your time writing, and call me if you need anything."
"Wait!" Hule Gao'en quickly called after the jailer. "Just who was that azure-robed cultivator who defeated me? How could such a person exist in this world?"
The jailer smirked with gloating schadenfreude. "That is our Domain Lord's master. For you to dare duel that venerable elder, you must have thought your Dao heart wasn't shattered finely enough!"
"Is that so? Then it seems my defeat was not unjust." Hule Gao'en sat down slowly.
Just as the jailer was about to leave, Hule Gao'en called out again from behind: "Wait!"
"What is it now?" the jailer asked impatiently.
Hule Gao'en asked, "Just how long do you plan to keep me imprisoned?"
"How should I know? Just stay here in peace! Tell you what—if you don't give me any trouble during this time, I'll give you something to pass the hours. Having lost to his venerable self's sword, your Dao heart must be riddled like a honeycomb right now, utterly unfit for cultivation. You'd best treat yourself as an ordinary person for now and slowly regain your calm, ordinary state of mind."
Hule Gao'en was immensely astonished. He had never expected a mere jailer to possess such insight.
But upon further reflection, he understood. How could anyone assigned to guard him be an ordinary person? Besides, he walked in and out of the cell with complete nonchalance, not in the least worried that Hule Gao'en might suddenly lash out. This man was obviously also an expert keeping his light under a bushel.
The jailer pulled a storybook from behind his waist and tossed it to Hule Gao'en. "This is the latest storybook, insanely popular right now. Take your time reading it. Once you finish, I'll bring you the sequel."
Hule Gao'en caught the storybook, opened it, and saw a line of large characters on the cover: *I Have Been at the Dao Foundation for Three Thousand Years*.
Chapter 887