To the Xu Mi Boundary. Much like the Sect Master Yuan Buhuan himself, the Xu Mi Boundary he created was one he could summon or dismiss at will.

But this Profound Realm was not one he had forged; it had been inherited. Furthermore, it was vast beyond measure. At Feng Zikang's current cultivation level, even a small Profound Realm the size of the Xu Mi Boundary was impossible to summon forth on a whim. To manage to relocate and link a Profound Realm of such immense scale was already quite an achievement.”,”! ”

As his divine sense reached out, sensing the Soul of the Profound Realm from afar, he felt an overwhelming, immense pressure bearing down on him, like being twisted by steel wires, causing a dull ache.

This colossal spiritual oppression, even with the support of his own Profound Realm, risked scattering his divine sense and inflicting grievous injury with the slightest misstep. If not for his resolute Dao heart and fierce demonic nature, this torment would have been nearly unbearable. Finally, across the distant cosmos, Feng Zikang located the orientation of the Profound Realm Soul, establishing a spiritual link, slowly connecting to this place. He chose the small bamboo grove hut as the location for the connection point.

This spot was, after all, a place Feng Zikang frequented, making an entrance elsewhere inconvenient. Ye Tiansheng was constantly in seclusion and had always spoken of establishing another thatched hut as his residence, leaving this one entirely to him, so he allowed Feng Zikang to proceed as he wished. The entry point he selected was directly beneath the bamboo couch, within the hidden wine cellar.

That place was already extremely concealed; Ye Tiansheng had expended considerable effort to hide it before, making it perfectly suitable. Unless someone possessed the cultivation level of the Great Demon who originally created this Profound Realm, no one could enter or exit this gateway unless Feng Zikang activated it—a concern naturally unnecessary for the time being. “Hoo!” With everything settled, Feng Zikang let out a long breath, feeling sweat pouring down his back and white vapor steaming from his head; the consumption had been enormous.

Within the Profound Realm, the secret mansion still required gradual renovation. This was not something to be rushed. Feng Zikang was not anxious; he first tossed the automaton figures inside to clean up. The mansion had been trashed and thrown into chaos by their previous battle, and the automatons were delighted to find the mess, immediately setting to work.

He then went to the spring area to take a bath, changed his clothes, circulated his Qi to recover the lost energy, and the injuries inflicted by Yan Fengqi gradually healed.

It was around evening, when lamps were being lit, that Master Wule arrived exactly as promised.

Although he still looked somewhat haggard, he appeared somewhat more spirited than when they had met in the afternoon, evidently having recovered some vitality after a period of recuperation.

“Master, I only learned from Junior Aunt Wen a short while ago that you have been sitting atop the entrance to the Demonic Realm in the Dragon-Tiger Mountain Secret Realm for these many days, chanting sutras to suppress the demonic energy. For the sake of the common people, you spare no effort; it is truly admirable!”

Since he was inherently a demonic figure, praising someone for suppressing demonic energy felt somewhat incongruous, yet Feng Zikang offered the polite words nonetheless.

Master Wule chuckled, pressing his palms together. “Benefactor flatters me. This is merely the duty of this old monk. However, it is you, Benefactor, who saved the common folk of the Southwest and upheld the righteousness of friendship, slaying the thirty-six continuous rings of Mangcang Mountain single-handedly, sweeping away the monstrous miasma. Once this feat is known, the title of the foremost rising star of the righteous path for you shall be unshakeable!”

They had only learned the full details today. After Mo Fenghuang elaborated, the assembled elders were full of praise. Recalling General Lu from years past, they unanimously agreed that the Dragon-Tiger Mountain military lineage was about to produce another rising leader, which made Yuan Buhuan beam with pride, so pleased that he completely forgot the embarrassment caused by the vulgar Elder Sun’s behavior.

Feng Zikang was unsurprised. This differed from his trip to the Southern Barbarians. After he slew the White Bone Divine Lord, he had anticipated that this incident would become another celebrated tale of the Righteous Path. His reputation as the Formless Heavenly Demon would only ascend further among the orthodox sects. Since this was not a detrimental development, he accepted it calmly, though he offered a customary gesture of humility on the surface. “How can I possibly deserve such praise…”

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Master Wule smiled faintly. His purpose for visiting today was naturally to unravel the secret of Feng Zikang’s Sky-Swallowing Ancient Sword. He asked Feng Zikang to take it down for him to examine closely, sighing repeatedly.

“Master, the last time you saw this sword, you mentioned it had quite a history. Could you perhaps enlighten me?”

Master Wule sighed. “When this sword was lost in the past, some said it fell into General Lu’s hands. I never expected to see it revealed again after several hundred years…”

Though his heart had been calm through centuries of Zen practice, facing this sword still brought a flicker of trepidation. It was clear just how mighty and bloodthirsty this weapon had been in its prime. “I do not slay unknown guests in my life; I only take famous swords to warm my belly…”

He slowly recited these two lines, which were neither quite a poem nor a simple verse, while gently caressing the blade. The look of terror in his eyes gradually settled. “Benefactor Feng, this place called Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain—you should know of it…” Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain! Feng Zikang’s expression shifted. He certainly knew this place, and it left a deep impression.

That was precisely the place where General Lu underwent his tribulation and the location where he, the Formless Heavenly Demon, had attempted to seize his body. He had taken advantage of General Lu’s successful tribulation and possession, only for the General’s physical form to be shattered by a group of Nascent Soul experts, leading to his death and the Demon’s successful re-possession of his current body. Life and death converged there; how could he not have a profound memory of it? “Indeed, it is the place where your sect’s General Lu underwent his tribulation. However, the story I wish to tell pertains not to that event, but to three hundred years before that…” Three hundred years ago, Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain was the foremost holy site of Buddhism. Buddhism, having arrived from the West, did not have roots as deep in the Central Plains as the various other philosophical schools. Its earliest places for scripture transmission, aside from the White Horse Temple in Luoyang, were here at Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain.

Legend held that when the Buddha came from the West, his body manifested seven treasures, forming a seven-story pagoda that descended upon the Central Plains—this very Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain. At that time, Buddhism spread like wildfire, gaining tens of millions of followers, all eager to journey to Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain to gaze upon the sacred site. However, this golden age did not last long. Three hundred years ago, Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain vanished overnight from the cultivation world!

“At that time, I was just a young novice monk…”

Master Wule hugged his knees, gazing up at the sky. His tone was placid, yet filled with emotion.

He still often dreamt of the boundless glory of Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain. Back then, he was only about the age Feng Zikang was now, having just shaved his head; the scars on his scalp were still fresh. Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain was magnificent and splendid, truly the Buddhist paradise in his eyes.

Even many years later, as the Abbot of White Horse Temple, upon witnessing the magnificence of the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, he had to admit it was perhaps not superior to Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain. “That powerful?”

Three hundred years later, no one ever mentioned Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain again. Its glory was brilliant yet brief, like a magnificent meteor streaking across the sky. Even if it was mentioned, it was only in connection with a tragic end. Moreover, everyone treated the matter as taboo; even Ye Tiansheng had never mentioned Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain to Feng Zikang. “Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain was annihilated overnight, all because of one sword and one person.” “What?”

Feng Zikang gasped. He did not know precisely how powerful Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain was, but judging by Master Wule’s words, it must have housed many eminent monks and possessed formidable strength, certainly not inferior to today’s myriad sects. One sword and one person? Could they wipe such a powerful Buddhist sanctuary from the cultivation world in a single night?

Feng Zikang’s gaze drifted to the ancient, unadorned Sky-Swallowing Ancient Sword, and his heart shuddered.

“…At that time, Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain had two experts at the Deity Transformation stage; countless cultivators at the Nascent Soul stage—one by one—”

Feng Zikang was numb to the descriptions of Master Wule’s account. What he needed to know was exactly who that person was and precisely how they accomplished it.

Master Wule, hidden behind a Buddha statue by his master, had personally witnessed countless monks being slain, the sky drenched in blood. No one could withstand a single move. That person moved like a celestial demon, unstoppable; whoever came forward met only one strike—a strike that ended life!

Feng Zikang’s heart tightened, and a strange sense of familiarity struck him. That sword had to be the Sky-Swallowing Ancient Sword—and that swordsmanship, it felt like…”…Of the entire monastery, a total of five hundred and seventy-two Bhikshu monks remained, and I was the only survivor.”

The process itself was simple. Master Wule saw everything, but there was little to describe; the man was like an emissary of the soul collector. No matter the cultivation, one strike was fatal—what more was there to say? “His final strike severed the head of the Buddha statue in the Great Hero Hall…” “Ah!”

Feng Zikang was startled. This man had clearly discovered Master Wule’s hiding spot. Master Wule nodded. “He knew I was behind the Buddha statue. What ability could I, a mere young novice monk with low cultivation, possibly have to hide from this god of slaughter?”

That he was spared death—perhaps by fate, or perhaps to leave a living witness to tell the truth of Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain’s demise. “Who… who was this person?”

Feng Zikang felt horrified, his palm slick with sweat. Even if General Lu had been alive, with his Tribulation Crossing cultivation, it would have been nearly impossible to annihilate such a deeply established sect.

This person’s cultivation surpassed even that of General Lu, hailed as the number one under heaven for centuries. Who… who exactly was he? Why had no one ever mentioned him? Master Wule offered a wry smile, shook his head, and did not answer directly, continuing his narration slowly.

After destroying Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain and shattering the seven treasures, that man rescued a woman from a sealed cave in the back mountains. It was strange; no one in the entire cultivation world had ever known this woman’s identity. Master Wule, the sole survivor of Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain, knew nothing about it and spent a hundred years searching fruitlessly for an answer.

Who knew that this woman, for some unknown reason, betrayed this man and secretly sent word to the people of the Three Teachings and Nine Schools. Finally, they surrounded the man in a valley and killed him in a massive encirclement.

Even though the man was ferocious, ten or more Deity Transformation experts attacking together, setting up inescapable nets and grand formations—even with his transcendent cultivation, he was finally overwhelmed and died, turning to ashes. Only this Sky-Swallowing Ancient Sword remained. “It was this one?” Feng Zikang pointed at the iron sword, unable to believe it. Master Wule shook his head, then nodded again. “Yes, and no…

As the man turned to dust, only this sword remained, emitting a mournful cry, refusing to leave its spot. A few experts attempted to seize it, intending to re-refine it for their own use. But the sword let out a mournful sound, destroying its own sword spirit and breaking its own body.

What was once a brilliant, radiant treasured sword became the dark, stubborn lump of scrap iron in Feng Zikang’s hand now!

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