Having dealt with that Zhang Dexing and the female ghost whose name he forgot to even ask, Ye Wen turned to leave. Yet, the last thing he expected was, the moment he turned, to feel an incredibly subtle, almost imperceptible sharp surge of energy aiming directly for his waist.

Glancing closely, amidst the deep darkness, he could vaguely make out a spot of emerald light, radiating an eerie and sinister coldness. Moreover, its momentum was astonishingly swift; had Ye Wen not happened to turn back just then, by the time he sensed it, the projectile would likely have been upon him.

His brow furrowed. Ye Wen hadn't anticipated someone lurking nearby, attacking immediately after he had effortlessly dispatched Zhang Dexing. This attacker must possess considerable confidence to strike now; otherwise, any normal person witnessing his display of power would hesitate to make a move.

"To think you could kill me with such meager tricks—aren't you being overly confident? Though this little thing comes with fierce haste, and at a glance, its power demands respect, Ye Wen felt no fear for such a trifle. With a wave of his hand, he prepared to unleash his palm energy, intending to slap it away with a gust of wind.

But further complications arose. Perhaps Ye Wen’s movement was slightly delayed, or maybe the trajectory of the fine emerald gleam happened to align perfectly with an item he carried at his waist, causing the object to react. Before Ye Wen could make his move, a brilliant, intense light suddenly erupted from his waist, illuminating the pitch-black graveyard as if it were midday. Around him, images of exotic birds and strange beasts materialized, circling Ye Wen once before coalescing into a massive, cauldron-like surge of energy that enveloped him. Then, with a crisp ding, the slender green light struck this cauldron-shaped energy field but failed to harm it in the slightest; instead, it was violently repelled, flying far back, the green light flickering as if about to vanish.

"This is...?"

While Ye Wen was still marveling, he noticed a figure suddenly materialize from the darkness. This person was clad in black robes adorned with crimson patterns. A cascade of long hair, black but threaded with an eerie crimson glow, billowed without wind. His eyes held almost no spark of life, instead radiating a strange, jade-green brilliance that inspired awe and dread.

"This is... you actually possess this magic treasure on your person?" The figure first scrutinized the swirling energy field surrounding Ye Wen, then burst into loud, wild laughter. "If I obtain this treasure, it hardly matters that Zhang Dexing is dead! With a sudden cessation of his mirth, he extended a hand toward Ye Wen with an arrogant posture. "Hand over the magic treasure, and I might spare your young life! If I’m in a good mood, perhaps I’ll even grant you, junior, some benefits!"

Ye Wen frowned, striking his own waist with his left hand. After injecting a surge of his Purple Star River energy, the slightly restless Nine Cauldrons gradually calmed. The energy swirling around his body slowly dissipated, returning to normal moments later. The surrounding area reverted to complete darkness.

However, for the two present, even with the dim moonlight above, there was enough visibility to see what they needed to observe. Seeing Ye Wen retract his protective energy, the black-robed man immediately laughed mockingly. "Smart kid, or better yet, submit to me! Your Ancestor will surely teach you supreme methods!"

Ye Wen curled his lip in disdain, wondering if the man was mentally deficient. He ignored the previous words, interpreting Ye Wen's action of pacifying the Nine Cauldrons energy as a sign of submission? This man’s self-regard was truly excessive.

Still, he had possessed the Nine Cauldrons for five years now and had always wanted to fully comprehend its mysteries. Yet, every bit of energy he sent in seemed to vanish like a clay ox entering the sea, leaving no trace. This cauldron was like his ring—a bottomless pit. Worse than the ring, no matter how much he poured into this chasm, there was never any response from the object.

But he knew it was crucial, so he kept it on his person day and night. He had intended to place it inside his spatial ring, but the spatial ring utterly refused to accept the Nine Cauldrons. It seemed this object was too high-level for an ordinary spatial ring to contain.

He wondered if the ring obtained from Mu Delake could store it. That ring was riddled with complex and numerous restrictions. Although Ye Wen had been diligently working to break them, even now, he hadn't succeeded.

This confirmed his initial suspicion that the ring was a valuable item, but it also meant Ye Wen had no way of knowing what treasures lay within. Given the situation, unless his power increased significantly, cracking those seals seemed almost impossible.

After realizing this, he suspected the ring required a special method or incantation—otherwise, how could Mu Delake have used it? Unfortunately, Mu Delake was dead by his hand, leaving no one to ask. Ye Wen could only resort to the simplest, most brute-force method to break the restrictions.

In stark contrast to the ring, the Nine Provinces Cauldrons never reacted, no matter how Ye Wen fiddled with them. They always rested quietly in his palm, maintaining a size of roughly a thumb—a far cry from the imposing, grand presence they held when he first encountered them...

He never expected the Nine Provinces Cauldrons to suddenly react today, and with such a commotion. Ye Wen was somewhat perplexed. Could the power of that emerald sliver truly have been so terrifying that it forced the Nine Provinces Cauldrons to automatically generate a protective shield?

Seeing Ye Wen remain silent, neither agreeing nor refusing, and making no move to offer up the coveted object, the black-robed man’s expression gradually shifted from smugness to anger.

"Insolent junior!" the black-robed man cursed. Then, he spread his five fingers, and in his palm manifested a long needle, about twenty centimeters in length, which pulsed with an emerald glow—the very thing that had just ambushed Ye Wen.

However, unlike before, this long needle erupted with a fierce green radiance infinitely stronger than before. The potent energy radiating from it forced even Ye Wen to involuntarily take a step back.

"This thing is actually this powerful?"

Ye Wen hadn't expected the inconspicuous long needle to possess such might. Only now did he realize he had underestimated the power of that magic item. If he had truly allowed it to reach him, even if he could withstand the blow, he would likely have suffered some hidden injury. The sudden protection from the Nine Provinces Cauldrons was not without reason.

"Legend holds that the Nine Provinces Cauldrons are treasures that suppress Destiny. While I never fully understood what 'Destiny' represents, that last incident suggests it’s a marvelous thing that helps one turn disaster into fortune! Could it be that ever since the Nine Provinces Cauldrons fell into my hands, they’ve been helping me succeed smoothly in everything I do?... The concept of Destiny has existed since ancient times, especially esteemed by cultivators. Ye Wen hadn't paid much mind to it before, thinking it too vague, but that one exchange gave him a taste of what it means to have strong Destiny.

As for this current confrontation, Ye Wen was naturally on high alert. And this time, the Nine Provinces Cauldrons made no response, resting silently within a small pouch hidden near Ye Wen’s waist.

"Just as I thought!"

The black-robed man slightly turned his palm, aiming it at Ye Wen from a distance, aligning the long needle radiating intense green light toward him. He sneered, "Junior, even if you haven't seen it, you should recognize my Ancestor's Emerald Light Divine Needle! It is your honor to die beneath my Divine Needle!"

"What Ancestor, what Divine Needle—I’ve never heard of any of it!" Being constantly called 'junior' by this lunatic finally ignited a spark of fire in Ye Wen (though calling him junior wasn't inaccurate, the tone of contempt and disdain was unbearable). He focused with full intensity. A purple light flashed above his Baihui point, soaring upward into the sky, which startled the black-robed man.

The purple light then receded, revealing a long sword—the Purple Firmament Sword, painstakingly tempered by Ye Wen’s divine sense! Since witnessing Ning Ruxue temper a single strand of sword energy day and night to condense the Azure Lotus Sword, he had adopted a similar practice.

However, unlike Ning Ruxue, Ye Wen only tempered his divine sense, not his own true qi. The Purple Firmament Sword was condensed based on his divine sense, allowing his true qi to be mobilized instantly. This method required slightly more time but solved the problem of his Purple Firmament Sword being less agile and useful than the Azure Lotus Sword.

The moment Ye Wen’s Purple Firmament Sword appeared, its extraordinary nature became evident. Purple light flowed continuously across the blade. The entire sword seemed alive, exuding a piercing spiritual aura, and a faint, crisp sound of a dragon's roar echoed from the edge. Even the black-robed man retracted his probing gaze and studied Ye Wen intently.

Even the Emerald Light Divine Needle in his hand no longer appeared as threatening. Instead, its divine light was drawn inward, merely hovering near the black-robed man. Yet, Ye Wen vaguely sensed that the power of the Divine Needle had grown significantly stronger than before. It seemed the characteristic of the Emerald Light Divine Needle was that the less conspicuous it appeared, the stronger its power. If so, that initial sneak attack was truly unpredictable in its might.

"Who exactly are you? Which lineage, which sect? Where did you cultivate?" The black-robed man was no longer as arrogant as before; even his expression had grown considerably serious. His questioning was meticulous, and while not overly polite, the change compared to moments ago was drastic.

Seeing the man's attitude immediately shift upon seeing the Purple Firmament Sword, Ye Wen gained a rough estimation of the man’s strength. He figured that even if the man was truly stronger than him, the difference was likely limited. If he fought desperately, he might even be able to kill this person.

Perhaps the black-robed man sensed this too, which is why he lost his earlier arrogance and became vigilant, realizing he had been rash in his initial move and had misjudged the situation entirely.

"This Daoist is merely an ordinary cultivator... However, that spell used to kill Zhang Dexing and that lotus-shaped magic treasure are quite interesting. I didn't expect to encounter a Sword Cultivator who has attained the realm of Man-Sword Unity. A genuine miscalculation!" Originally, in the black-robed man's eyes, Ye Wen’s previous display of power, while strong enough, hadn't been truly alarming. He merely thought the initial strike had some trickery, and the "magic treasure" was bothersome. But limited strength rendered even a fine magic treasure useless; moreover, he could claim that peculiar magic treasure for himself, knowing the two effects displayed by the lotus artifact suggested many ingenious uses.

If the black-robed man had truly understood how Ye Wen killed Zhang Dexing just then, he probably wouldn't have so readily revealed himself. Ye Wen’s earlier finger strike had merely been a flash of purple light at the fingertip, without any imposing aura or shocking visual effects externally. This was because everything happened inside Zhang Dexing.

Ye Wen had unleashed his imitation of the "Lightning Speed Fist" directly into Zhang Dexing’s body, simultaneously covering Zhang Dexing's surface with an energy wall, trapping boundless sword qi to repeatedly assault him within a confined space—the result was that Zhang Dexing was almost instantaneously cleaved by countless sword energies until not even ashes remained, scattering into fine dust nearly invisible to the naked eye in the wind. If the black-robed man had been closer, he might have noticed, but the darkness and the distance obscured the subtlety of the technique.

Had he seen clearly, he wouldn't have attacked so rashly. However, it was partly thanks to this sneak attack that Ye Wen’s interest, which had almost faded, was rekindled for the Nine Provinces Cauldrons.

But now was not the time to examine treasures. Ye Wen secretly touched the location of the Nine Provinces Cauldrons with his left hand and found they were quiet again. He then addressed the black-robed man, "Sir, before you inquire about others' names, shouldn't you state your own?"

The black-robed man was rather famous in the cultivation world, notorious for his ill reputation. When had he ever encountered someone who demanded his name? For a moment, he couldn't gauge Ye Wen's true standing.

He had cultivated for over seven hundred years. Only in the first hundred years was he focused on cultivation without gaining much fame; for the subsequent five hundred years, he had enjoyed the fear of others.

It couldn't be said that no one in the cultivation world didn't know him, but those who didn't would have to be ancient monsters, the kind who spent years in secluded meditation, ignoring worldly affairs.

Ye Wen, appearing to be in his early twenties, didn't allow for easy age assessment among cultivators, but many long-time practitioners adopted the appearance of white-haired, white-bearded elders, seemingly to emphasize their longevity. Even those who chose to maintain a youthful or prime appearance were usually renowned leaders of the righteous path—people he knew well.

Those who looked young but whom he didn't recognize were mostly disciples of the younger generation, whose attire and habits seemed very modern. Based on these observations, the black-robed man concluded Ye Wen was an unknown junior, or perhaps a newly groomed master from some sect within the last century.

It was only when Ye Wen revealed the flying sword that he realized he might have misjudged. Could the person before him not be some junior disciple, but a genuine ancient relic? One older than himself? And one who hadn't been active in the cultivation world for nearly eight hundred years, otherwise, how could he not know him?

If that were the case, he had kicked an iron plate today. There was one consensus in the cultivation world: one with short cultivation time isn't necessarily weak, but one with exceptionally long cultivation time is definitely formidable! To live that long required immense power to sustain; otherwise, they would have long turned to dust, not running around everywhere.

Moreover, Ye Wen’s bearing clearly marked him as belonging to the Sword Cultivation lineage—the most combative branch of cultivation. Even when facing someone slightly higher in power, members of this lineage could still achieve a kill, precisely because their techniques prioritized slaughter; it was a path of cultivation built on sheer force.

Finding himself facing someone potentially older than himself, with longer cultivation time, and who specialized in deadly combat, the black-robed man felt the moonlight tonight was exceptionally dark; his timing was terrible.

"If only my Nine Heavens Demonic Blood God training were complete, I would definitely contest him today!"

But the problem was that his Nine Heavens Demonic Blood God Sword was not yet perfected. The sword-training demon he had painstakingly nurtured had just been killed by Ye Wen. Knowing how many more years it would take to train that ferocious deity, he had acted out of impatience; Zhang Dexing was nearing the standard he required to be refined into one of the Divine Sword Demons when Ye Wen ruined it, prompting the ambush.

He hadn't intended not to save Zhang Dexing earlier; he had sensed something amiss and rushed over, but Ye Wen had already pointed a finger at Zhang Dexing's forehead. He hadn't arrived in time!

"Qiu Yuanlong!" After much deliberation, the black-robed man finally gave his name, though he felt it lacked momentum, so he deliberately chuckled strangely and added, "I also have the title of Ancestor of the Crimson Blood!"

Ye Wen secretly smiled upon hearing the title, thinking the nickname was quite potent, but on his face, he remained composed and casually replied, "Ye Wen, cultivating at Mount Shu."

"Mount Shu?"

Ye Wen had only replied casually, but Qiu Yuanlong's expression abruptly changed, and he pressed further, "Are you a member of the Emei Sect or the Qingcheng Sect?"

In the lands of Shu, these two sects held the greatest prestige, and both had many Sword Cultivators among them—Emei slightly more so, though Qingcheng was only relatively weaker.

Ye Wen did not answer, but this only solidified Qiu Yuanlong's belief that Ye Wen was a master from one of those two sects. Recalling how those two sects favored winning through sheer numbers, his expression darkened further, and his eyes began to dart around uncontrollably, fearing another person might suddenly appear, which would mean a devastating failure for him today.

Seeing the Ancestor of the Crimson Blood’s gaze flicker, constantly searching the surroundings, Ye Wen felt a bit strange. Why the sudden shift in demeanor? He had been utterly arrogant just a moment ago, but now he looked somewhat pathetic?

The man didn't know that Qiu Yuanlong held old grudges against both Emei and Qingcheng, having suffered losses against them before. Seeing Ye Wen, who might be a master from either sect, he even suspected that these two sects had brought out one of their ancient experts specifically to deal with him?

"Could it be they learned I am refining the Nine Heavens Demonic Blood God Sword?" While he was calculating anxiously, Ye Wen, wary of the Emerald Light Divine Needle, dared not move rashly. They were locked in a standoff when suddenly, a beam of sword light sliced through the air. The sheer power emanating from the light revealed the cultivator was no ordinary foe.

Qiu Yuanlong was aghast upon seeing it, cursing loudly, "Indeed, he has an accomplice!" He instantly flashed out a stream of escape light and vanished in the blink of an eye. The transition from a drastically changed expression to a shout, and then to making his escape via the light stream, was completed almost instantaneously, too fast for Ye Wen to react.

"Damn it! This guy is way too practiced!"