As the silhouette of Zong Shou vanished completely into the snow-covered landscape, Ye Feihan wrenched free from Ye Feishuang’s grasp. Her eyes blazed with indignation as she glared at her elder sister, demanding fiercely, “Sister Shuang, what are you doing? Brother Shou just saved our lives, why treat him like that?”

Ye Feishuang, however, maintained a serene expression. “One must always be on guard. We sisters carry priceless treasures, and our identities must remain secret. If he harbored any intention of seizing them, or harbored ill will, what then would become of us? This man’s cunning runs deep; he’s been with us for three months without revealing so much as a hint of his true nature, showing no sign that he cultivates both Spiritual and Martial arts, reaching profound realms in both. Staying with us—perhaps he has an ulterior motive…”

“Seize them? Ill will?” Ye Feihan laughed with exasperation. “I only know that if Brother Shou truly meant us harm just now, we two would stand absolutely no chance, not even a sliver of power to resist. Sister, do you truly think so?”

Ye Feishuang’s breath hitched, yet her resolve did not waver. “Even if he harbors no ill will, we cannot afford to let down our guard. Our clan and theirs have been mortal enemies for millennia; countless ancestors perished at the hands of these Sky Foxes. In the future, they might very well become our adversaries!”

“Sister, you yourself said that was ten thousand years ago! What does that have to do with the present? Don't treat me like a child who doesn't understand; we have had virtually no contact with them in the last thousand years—”

Ye Feihan bit her lip, tears continuously tracking down her cheeks. “Forget it, I won't argue with you. Brother Shou is a good person; he’s not as wicked as you imagine. I… I like him—”

With that, she stamped her foot and ran off into the distance. Ye Feishuang remained rooted to the spot, letting out a slight sigh. How could she be unaware of what Ye Feihan said?

Shaking her head, Ye Feishuang immediately leaped up, swiftly pursuing the direction her sister had fled.

Not long after the two girls departed, two more figures emerged from the snowy expanse.

It was a man and a woman. The man was tall and robust, handsome and striking; the woman was equally statuesque, possessing innate, delicate beauty.

Both now wore expressions of stunned bewilderment as they intently examined the two deep craters on the ground.

After a long silence, Lei Dong abruptly blinked. “I must have seen wrong. Why don’t you let me squeeze your hand for a moment, Yanran?”

Zhao Yanran offered no reply, instead thrusting her sword out to the side. Though lacking killing intent, the strike was sharp, ruthless, and utterly fierce.

Lei Dong quickly flashed aside, reappearing twenty zhang away, shouting curses. “You madwoman! Forget it, I’ll squeeze my own—”

He tugged at his own cheek, and Lei Dong’s mouth immediately skewed sideways. It truly hurt!

Then, a heavy silence descended upon them again, broken only when a gentle breeze swept by, covering even the massive pits with another layer of silvery white. Lei Dong spoke once more, his expression shifting constantly. “Yanran, that guy—he actually broke through to the Xiantian realm!”

Zhao Yanran merely hummed in response, remaining silent, her gaze fixed on the two differently shaped depressions. Faintly visible within them were traces of lingering sword marks. The immense power unleashed by that sword technique seemed vividly imprinted on her mind.

—This single sword strike, though incomplete, sent a chilling terror deep into the heart!

Though the man had long since departed, the mere traces he left behind exerted tremendous pressure, suffocating her until her ambition withered, incapable of even raising the slightest thought of resistance. Lei Dong frowned. “Is that all the reaction you have? He broke through the Heavenly Human barrier without relying on any external support? I recall that in the Cloud Realm, only five people have ever managed to breach the Heavenly Human boundary.”

“There are now six!”

Zhao Yanran lifted her head, a spark of life returning to her eyes. “Including Zong Shou, there are six! But as for breaking through purely on his own, without external aid—in these ten thousand years, he is the only one.”

Lei Dong sighed again. “In other words, he is utterly unique between Heaven and Earth? I vaguely remember that those who break the Heavenly Human barrier usually go on to become Martial Venerables?”

“Unique! That is correct!” Zhao Yanran nodded, her response curt and definitive.

Lei Dong forced himself to compose his spirits, yet he still slumped, letting out a sigh filled with tangled emotion. “I thought this Heavenly Human barrier would hold him back for a few years. It only took three months! How has this fellow become so monstrously powerful? It seems my stone is becoming more and more valuable. As for what our Masters will say—I fear once they know, the vying will only become more intense. What are we to do?”

Zhao Yanran’s gaze flashed, sharp intent briefly visible. Lei Dong then flashed a cunning smile, looking toward the direction the two girls had gone. “Your Seven Spirits Sect has always been known for being utterly unscrupulous in its methods. Why not make a move? I saw at least two Ninth-Rank Spirit Artifacts in there just now. You pose as someone from Jue Long City, and I’ll play the hero saving the damsel—we split the spoils fifty-fifty, how about it?”

Zhao Yanran glared fiercely at him. “Are you insane? If you want to die, I won't accompany you!” With that, she turned and walked away.

Lei Dong pulled at the corner of his mouth, then rubbed his head, letting out a regretful sigh.

The Sword Repository Bead, the Sword Nurturing Stone—he wanted those too. Suddenly startled, Lei Dong stopped dead, whipping back around to gaze into the distance. Through the swirling ice and snow, a pair of massive eyes suddenly snapped open. Looking from afar, they held a hint of teasing amusement.

Lei Dong instantly offered a bitter smile, his face drooping in distress. He had truly only been joking; he hadn't had the slightest serious thought. Absolutely not!

At that exact moment, in a mountain valley nearly a thousand li away, the atmosphere was intensely oppressive.

Utilizing their Spiritual Arts to connect to Lei Dong and Zhao Yanran’s forms, the two here could observe the situation a thousand li away as clearly as if it were before their eyes.

But precisely because of this, the tension in this location was at its breaking point!

“He actually broke through to Xiantian, actually became a Night Roaming Spirit Master—so fast, so incredibly fast! Unbelievable, truly unbelievable…”

Shui Lingbo murmured, the words barely audible. Then, her figure abruptly pierced the void and shot forth, disregarding everything, streaking toward Zong Shou’s location. A hundred li away, atop a mountain peak, Yan Fan’s eyes suddenly sharpened. Without hesitation, he drew his sword, unleashing a slash that spanned ten thousand zhang, coiling like a swimming dragon, following closely in Shui Lingbo’s wake.

This strike held no trace of gentle affection or mercy. This battle was now one of life and death!

Clang! Clang! Clang! “Why is it suddenly thundering like this?”

Zong Shou, resting on his wooden raft, looked up at the sky in surprise, watching the darkening expanse of clouds. While thinking whether it was about to rain, he also examined the two items he had received from Ye Feishuang in his hands.

The Sword Repository Bead—within it was nurtured the indispensable material for Sword Cultivators: gathering various Heaven and Earth essences, storing them within the bead, cultivating them into a sword form, which finally becomes a Sword Embryo.

This item could be integrated immediately, but Zong Shou hesitated slightly. After inspecting it closely and registering a moment of surprise, he tossed it into the pouch tied to his waist.

Next was the Sword Nurturing Stone; this item was excellent and perfectly timed for his needs. He casually drew his Thunder Fang Sword and placed the Sword Nurturing Stone upon it.

When Zong Shou channeled his True Force, streams of golden thread immediately became visible, emanating from the Sword Nurturing Stone and spreading across the blade.

With just one glance, Zong Shou knew these were the spiritual energy pathways within the artifact. However, as the golden threads permeated the metal, they reached only halfway before sputtering out, nearly half of them completely severed.

Zong Shou sighed inwardly. It wasn't just his Spiraling True Qi that was too overbearing; his Spiraling Sword technique was equally immense in power.

Having used that Spiraling Sword technique only twice, this spirit weapon crafted by a Cloud Barren Sword Master was almost destroyed on the spot—fortunately, he had obtained this Sword Nurturing Stone from that girl. The function of this object was precisely to repair spirit weapons; as long as it wasn't completely shattered, even severe damage could be repaired almost entirely.

The item in Zong Shou’s hand was high-grade, reaching the Sixth Rank, a rare Spirit Artifact indeed. Repairing the Second-Rank Thunder Fang Sword was more than sufficient.

What Ye Feishuang offered as repayment for saving her life with these two items was certainly not excessive.

Indeed, after only a moment, the golden threads began to mend and fill in the minute fissures in the sword. Piece by piece, the connections were restored. In just fifteen minutes, the Thunder Fang Sword was restored to its former glory, its spiritual light dispersing, no less radiant than before.

Zong Shou chuckled with satisfaction and put the sword away. With this Sword Nurturing Stone, he would no longer fear engaging in blade-to-blade combat in the future.

“Right! And there’s the glove—”

Zong Shou then took out two brocade pouches: one containing a glove woven with golden silk, and another holding a three-foot-three-inch spirit sword.

That sword was also a spirit weapon, reaching the Third Rank, even better than his Thunder Fang Sword. However, it was an Earth-attribute sword; its blade was slender, and its spirit formation contained the supreme techniques of Penetrating Sharpness and Absolute Edge, making it incredibly fierce.

“I have no use for this sword, but Xue’er is descended from the White Tiger, and she urgently needs a spirit weapon. This sword is just right!”

When he killed Ming Jue previously, Zong Shou had discarded all of that man’s possessions. But now, he felt no compunction.

The Tiger Mountain Sect was powerful, but since these two had found their way here, there was no possibility of keeping things hidden anymore.

Since enmity was already established, Zong Shou certainly wouldn't let the possessions of those two go to waste.

The pouch also contained some elixirs and beast crystals. Zong Shou took them without hesitation. He smashed the items related to demonic or heretical paths and sank them into the water.

These things possessed considerable power, but Zong Shou instinctively disliked them. Cultivating the Way of the Sword required absolute purity.

Only the glove pleased him greatly. It appeared to be woven from a mixture of Thousand-Year Spider Silk and Spirit Gold, making it resistant to metal and potent poisons.

Even during direct combat, it would be useful; the backlash from True Force strikes would be weakened by at least thirty percent.

Putting the item on his hand, it fit perfectly—it could expand or contract, clinging seamlessly to his skin.

Other than that, there was nothing else worth noticing.

Zong Shou gave a slight, knowing laugh and tucked everything away. Then, he saw the distant shore of the lake before him, and upon the high ground, several distinctive wooden cabins.

Hu Zhongyuan was practicing his saber technique, cycling endlessly through the move, Tiger Roar Eight Directions. He had been doing this ever since he broke through the trace of Sword Presence Zong Shou had left three months ago.

Observing from afar, his saber technique was gradually taking on the imposing aura that characterized Hu Qianqiu’s strikes—an overwhelming presence pressing down on all sides—yet it was subtly different, incorporating some of Hu Zhongyuan’s own Martial Way; less straightforward thrusts, more nuanced and shifting complexity.

And then there was Zong Yuan, practicing diligently the foundational spear arts he had laid out previously.

Initially, his movements were listless and perfunctory, mere pretense. But after being severely reprimanded by him recently, he had focused much more, moving with rigid precision and proper structure.

As Zong Shou watched with a slight smile, a soft splash sounded behind the wooden raft. A subtle breeze, whose direction was impossible to predict, drifted from behind him.

Zong Shou’s muscles instantly tensed, his hairs prickling slightly. A moment later, he relaxed his body with a smile.

Then, in the next instant, a warm body fiercely wrapped around him from behind. Chu Xue clung tightly to him, letting out a silver-bell-like giggle. “Young Master, why are you back so early today? Aren’t you going to cultivate today?”