Chapter 83: The Lifeless Sword Sect

Jiang Fan moved as soon as his feet touched the ground, dashing forward like a wisp of blue smoke. In the blink of an eye, he stood beside Nangong Rou.

“Cousin, that little expression, that tone of yours—could you be any more insincere?” Jiang Fan remarked as his sword left its sheath. The sword intent, long dormant within him, now burst forth. An endless aura of slaughter condensed into a single, starlit point at the sword’s tip, shining with a brilliance that brimmed with murderous intent.

This was the Intent of Slaughter—a sword intent Jiang Fan had swiftly comprehended after slaying countless ferocious beasts in another world, and studying a swordsmanship tome within the Illusive Stone Courtyard of Jade Spring Manor, aided by the Epiphany Platform. It was the very essence of slaughter.

"Such killing intent?" Sensing the overwhelming aura and seeing the sword tip’s deadly gleam speeding toward him, Yuan Kun’s expression changed. He suddenly halted, spun his spear, and, in the nick of time, blocked the strike.

Sword tip met spear tip in midair with a deafening, thunderous boom.

Yuan Kun was instantly thrown back, his arm trembling and his face dark with shock.

Jiang Fan did not pursue, but instead turned to Nangong Rou. “Cousin, can you come out on your own?”

“My dear cousin, you’re so formidable!” Nangong Rou exclaimed in delighted surprise, before adopting a pitiful look. “If I could break free, I would have already. Cousin, this is a mid-grade magic artifact—the ‘Binding Mirror.’ Once caught in its light, it’s like sinking into a mire. The weak can’t even move. Thankfully, I’m strong enough or I’d have been killed just now. Cousin, I came all this way to see you, only to be bullied. Won’t you avenge me? You don’t have to kill him; just sever his four limbs.”

Jiang Fan’s face turned dark.

Not kill—just sever the limbs?

How was that any different from killing?

“Son, save your cousin!” his mother’s voice called from the riverbank.

Jiang Fan sighed inwardly. Spinning his sword, he prepared to strike the Binding Mirror, but saw its light flash as it flew into Yuan Kun’s hand in the distance.

“I’m a girl. I don’t like fighting and killing. Cousin, I’ll leave this to you.” Nangong Rou smiled faintly and stepped away, treading on air.

Jiang Fan’s mouth twitched, but he was helpless.

Should he tie her up and give her a beating?

Heh.

He would probably be the one hung up by his mother before he could even try.

“Who are you?” Yuan Kun demanded. “In Baihe County City, I know every notable expert by name. Why have I never heard of you?”

“You’re just ignorant,” Jiang Fan replied coolly. “You came to my family’s doorstep to challenge my cousin—who gave you the nerve?”

Yuan Kun burst into laughter. “Your home? In this world, there are only a handful of places I dare not tread. Anywhere else is mine to come and go as I please. Your home? With just a word, it would no longer be yours!”

“You’re truly arrogant!” Jiang Fan’s temper flared.

“It’s not arrogance, but confidence!” Yuan Kun replied. “Show me what you’ve got! Let’s see what skills you possess to dare interrupt my duel!”

His aura surged, and above his head, a spear intent shot forth, piercing the sky.

His spear intent grew sharper, capable of annihilating all before it.

“You’re stronger than Nangong Rou. Good, I’ll kill you here and forge my reputation!” Yuan Kun declared, stepping forward. The very air trembled; the river below sank by three feet and massive waves crashed along the shore.

With a flash, his spear thrust out, drawing in the surrounding air to form a vortex.

“Stronger than my cousin?” Jiang Fan shook his head inwardly.

Such shallow insight—how childish.

He narrowed his eyes, not retreating an inch.

He twisted his sword and stabbed straight out.

No flourish, no forcefulness—yet the sword was as swift as lightning, imparting a sense of no return, of death without hope.

With a crash, Yuan Kun’s spear was forcibly repelled.

Jiang Fan stomped hard, creating a black void in the river below that reached the riverbed. His figure vanished, reappearing at Yuan Kun’s side.

His sword exuded a strange aura, as though all things withered and vitality perished—there was not a trace of life left in the world.

Yuan Kun faltered, shuddered violently, and turned pale with fright. Light flashed across his body as the Binding Mirror appeared again, blocking the sword.

Simultaneously, he retreated sharply, cold sweat beading on his brow.

“What swordsmanship is this? What sword intent? Why does it make me feel as if I’m already dead?” Yuan Kun’s heart pounded wildly.

“You can’t even see through this, yet claim to be a disciple of the Hidden Spirit Sect?” Jiang Fan sneered, pressing the attack.

His swordplay was eerie and suffused with death, thoroughly suppressing Yuan Kun. Without the Binding Mirror, Yuan Kun would already have been defeated.

On the riverbank, Nangong Rou’s expression grew grave.

“The Intent of Slaughter is rare, but after some time on the battlefield, there’s a chance to grasp it. However, slaughter evolving into death—does that even exist in this world? I’ve only heard of such things in legends!”

“He’s actually comprehended the Intent of Death!”

“His true energy is also pure, no less than mine. How can he possess such a ruthless killing intent? Did he encounter some immortal opportunity while traveling? And in just a few months, reach this height?”

“Inconceivable—a miracle!”

“He even saw through my disguise!”

“The Intent of Death!”

“Could it be...?”

“Does he cultivate solely the Intent of Death, the path of the Lifeless Sword Sect—unrivaled, leaving no survivors? But the Lifeless Sword Sect declined a thousand years ago and left no heirs.”

“Did he inherit the Lifeless Sword Sect’s legacy?”

“That must be it. Otherwise, how could he comprehend such a realm?”

Nangong Rou’s eyes sparkled.

“Rou’er, do you think Xiaofan can win?” Nangong Yue asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry, Aunt. Cousin has obtained an incredible immortal opportunity. His strength surpasses his opponent’s—he’ll be fine,” Nangong Rou assured her.

“Truly?” Jiang Zheng’an asked, equally concerned.

Though his wounds had healed, he was really no match for these three young people.

“Rest assured, Uncle, nothing will happen!” Nangong Rou replied again.

On the river, spear energy crisscrossed, sword energy cut fiercely.

At every critical moment, the Binding Mirror affected Jiang Fan, stoking a nameless fire in his heart.

Magical artifacts were wondrous objects, possessing unfathomable power. Generally, only experts at the Nascent Soul stage could fully unleash their effects, but even in the hands of Initiates, they could greatly enhance combat strength.

The Binding Mirror was one such artifact, and of no low grade—it was, as Nangong Rou had said, a mid-grade magic artifact.

“Then I’ll deal with you first!” Jiang Fan made up his mind.

With a twist of his sword, eighteen sword lights shot out, each refined to the utmost limit.

Sword energy released from the body had limited lethality against peers and was rarely used. But these eighteen strands of sword energy were exceedingly cunning, targeting Yuan Kun’s eighteen weaknesses—his eyes, throat, ears, heart, and so on.

“Petty tricks!” Yuan Kun snorted, but was more cautious than ever. His spear flashed, striking eighteen times and shattering all of the incoming sword energy.

“Trying to deal with my Binding Mirror? Hmph, foolish!” As Yuan Kun finished his words, his expression changed.

With a crash, Jiang Fan’s sword tip pierced through the mirror’s light and struck the mirror’s surface. A resounding blast echoed as pure true energy, laced with the Intent of Death and reinforced by his body’s sixfold power amplitude, exploded forth.

The Binding Mirror was blasted away, landing a kilometer distant.

“Now’s the time!”

Jiang Fan’s speed surged as he appeared behind Yuan Kun in a flash, his sword striking at Yuan Kun’s back.