Chapter 236: Chapter 197: Dead End, the Golden Peng Comes from the South!
Yuezhou.
Pengshan County.
Beiyin River.
Wang Tuan stood on the southern bank, hands clasped behind his back, expressionless, a trace of desolation lingering in his heart.
In the past, Revival Three Ancestors of Taixu Sword Sect led the sect to sweep across the Seven States, reigning supreme for four hundred years. Yet in the following three centuries, decline set in relentlessly. By his generation, only one county remained under their rule—a sorry state akin to their situation eight hundred years ago.
And that was not all.
This time, Yuezhou’s remaining thirteen counties—the Six Great Sects—had issued a challenge to Taixu Sword Sect. The outcome of one battle would decide their fate: if Taixu Sword Sect lost, even their last stronghold of Pengshan County would have to be surrendered.
No home left to call their own.
The former hegemon, reduced to this, drew sighs from outsiders and heartfelt sorrow from the members of Taixu Sword Sect like Wang Tuan.
Wang Tuan yearned to rise against the tide of misfortune but was powerless to alter the inevitable.
This was no longer the era of the Revival Three Ancestors dominating undefeated.
One after another, formidable heroes emerged.
Such as the prodigy of the Guu Family in Southeast Yong State Imperial Heaven City, "Guu Tan."
Such as the number one expert of Yunzhou Sun-shooting Divine Mountain, "Li Qinghua."
Such as the Sect Leader of Xuzhou Xingyi Sect in the northeast, "Lu Sheng."
...
All of them had reached the pinnacle of Void Realm and God Realm, far surpassing the likes of Revival Ancestor Wang Shan and the others.
Not to mention them.
Even Wang Tuan himself had cultivation reaching the third layer of Void Nether Realm—a level above the Revival Three Ancestors of old.
"Elders in the sect once speculated that the Three Ancestors had not perished but rather used a Secret Technique to seal themselves in ice and enter slumber. Should the Taixu Sword Sect face grave peril, they could awaken at any time."
"Yet somewhere along the line, something went wrong—the Secret Technique was lost, and the location where the three Ancestors slumbered faded into obscurity."
Wang Tuan lamented with a silent sigh.
But his regret was not at being unable to awaken the Revival Three Ancestors.
In truth.
Given the current circumstances, even the return of the Three Ancestors would likely be of little help.
What he truly regretted was the failure to preserve the Secret Technique that could freeze sect members in slumber. If only they had passed it down, they could have sealed all Void Realm and God Realm experts of the sect throughout the generations. Upon waking them now, Taixu Sword Sect would have undoubtedly held firm in Pengshan County, perhaps even reclaimed all of Yuezhou.
"A pity indeed."
Wang Tuan sighed inwardly.
...
Beiyin River.
Masters gathered on both banks.
On the southern bank, Taixu Sword Sect’s current Old Ancestor, "Roaring West Wind" Wang Tuan, stood silently, leading thirty-four Void Realm and God Realm experts of the sect.
On the northern bank were six separate factions.
Banners flew high and proud in the wind, bearing the names——
Golden Wild Goose Sect.
Five Cloud Sect.
Spring Silkworm Sect.
Tianhe Sect.
Taiyang Temple.
Golden Blade Shura Sect.
The Six Great Sects had split Yuezhou with Taixu Sword Sect, with the first three factions having once been among the foremost sects in Yuezhou and Qil State eight hundred years ago.
One by one, they were vanquished by Taixu Sword Sect.
Centuries later, they rose from the ashes and reached prominence again.
The wheel of fate turns.
This time they aimed to send Taixu Sword Sect off on its final journey.
As for the remaining three factions—Tianhe Sect, Taiyang Temple, and Golden Blade Shura Sect—they were newly established but rapidly ascendant, their influence and might rivaling that of the first three major sects.
...
Time passed.
Under the blazing sun.
Beiyin River roared.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Taixu Sword Sect’s "Roaring West Wind" Wang Tuan was locked in fierce combat with Golden Wild Goose Sect’s "Iron Pen Master" Zhangsun Chongyang.
Meanwhile, on the southern bank of Beiyin River, several Taixu Sword Sect Void Realm and God Realm experts sat cross-legged, most looking listless, with blood at the edges of their mouths.
Disheveled, enveloped in clouds of sorrow.
"A camel, no matter how emaciated, remains larger than a horse! Though Taixu Sword Sect has declined, their power alone is on par with any of the Six Great Sects."
"Despite enduring a series of battles against the Six Great Sects, they’ve managed to hold on for this long. Taixu Sword Sect truly deserves to be the only sect to have unified the Seven States twice in Central Earth’s history."
"The Six Great Sects joining forces against Taixu Sword Sect—it’s far from honorable!"
"Honor? What honor? Golden Wild Goose Sect, Five Cloud Sect, and Spring Silkworm Sect were all annihilated by Taixu Sword Sect in the past. This is a blood feud—how could they let Taixu Sword Sect off the hook now that they’ve returned?"
"Such is fate!"
"Back then, Taixu Sword Sect relied heavily on the glory of the Revival Three Ancestors, especially the connections of the ’Seven-star Sword Saint’ Wang Shan, who rallied dozens of Void Realm and God Realm experts from the West Sea and enslaved countless Void Realm Demon Beasts. Only then did they sweep through the Seven States, unifying the world. But after the Sword Saint’s death, the West Sea experts cooled off and returned home, while the Void Realm Demon Beasts dispersed one by one. Taixu Sword Sect, though still producing many masters, only managed to maintain supremacy for a mere one or two hundred years before slipping into decline."
"Relying on outsiders to unify the Seven States ultimately made for shaky foundations. And now, the backlash has come."
...
Onlookers from the Jianghu on both sides of the river discussed fervently. Some sighed; others pondered; still others reveled in schadenfreude.
During Taixu Sword Sect’s initial rise to power and peak prosperity, Central Earth’s Seven States all proclaimed its brilliance and strength.
Thus, most Jianghu individuals saw Taixu Sword Sect as extraordinary.
Yet as the sect’s decline crept in, murmurs of sourness and dissent began to emerge across the Seven States, the most popular among them being critiques, mocking Taixu Sword Sect for relying on West Sea experts and Void Realm Demon Beasts to build their dominance, deeming them inherently weak and undeserving.
Human nature, it seemed.
Constantly seeking to overturn history, to question authority.
Offering contrarian perspectives to distance oneself from mainstream thinking. And once these contrarian perspectives gained widespread acceptance, a counter-narrative would emerge, reversing sentiments to their original stance.
Again and again.
Over and over.
Thus, true history, through such cycles, grew murky and elusive, increasingly difficult to determine.
Although Taixu Sword Sect’s origins remained largely intact even seven to eight centuries later, contemporary interpretations had grown biased.
But now, with Taixu Sword Sect’s fall imminent, the heroes of the sect seemed too downtrodden to even offer rebuttal.
"Ha!"
Some prickling remarks reached Wang Tuan’s ears, stirring his fury. He swept his sword, unleashing a torrent of Sword Qi that roared forth like a river. In an instant, a deafening bang sent Zhangsun Chongyang airborne, landing beyond Beiyin River.
"Hmph!"
Zhangsun Chongyang snorted coldly, sheathed his iron pen, and withdrew without further combat.
"A brilliant sword technique, Mr. Wang!"
"I, Yan, hereby extend my challenge!"
Before Wang Tuan could catch his breath from Zhangsun Chongyang’s retreat, another figure leapt into the river’s center from the northern bank.
"Spring Silkworm Sect’s ’Phantom Gun’ Yan Shidao!"
"This man’s strength surpasses Zhangsun Chongyang’s, and Wang Tuan has just finished an intense battle. He may be in grave danger!"
Recognizing the newcomer, observers fell into discussion.
Even among Taixu Sword Sect’s ranks on the southern bank, the Void Realm and God Realm experts grew concerned. One of Taixu Sword Sect’s only two remaining Void Nether experts, "Sun Zhenshan," stood up, shouting, "Yan Shidao, I will face you!"
Barely getting to his feet, he prepared to enter the fray.
"Rest, Uncle Sun. Yan Shidao is mine!"
Wang Tuan turned his head, noting Sun Zhenshan’s flushed appearance. He understood that Sun Zhenshan had sustained injuries earlier while battling Taiyang Temple’s "Tuota Hand" Meng Qi.
Battle against Yan Shidao would likely cost Sun Zhenshan his life.
Before Sun Zhenshan could intervene, Wang Tuan swung his sword decisively, unleashing a surge of Sword Qi, engaging Yan Shidao directly.
The two fought fiercely—one mastering Swordsmanship rooted in the Revival Ancestor Wang Shan’s signature "Sword Map," the other excelling in spear technique, fusing twelve top-tier spear techniques of Spring Silkworm Sect, boasting cultivation in Void Nether Third Layer. Yan Shidao’s might rivaled Wang Tuan’s.
Just as Wang Tuan finished channeling his vigor, Yan Shidao entered combat fully rested.
Advantage shifted.
The intense bout reached a stalemate.
Yet as time stretched, Wang Tuan gradually gained the upper hand. By sunset, amidst a storm of Sword Qi, Yan Shidao was finally forced out of Beiyin River, defeated, retreating.
"An exceptional sword technique!"
"Surrender this skill to me, Zhang shall challenge you!"
Yan Shidao barely stepped back when another figure darted into the arena before Wang Tuan had a chance to rest.
"Golden Blade Shura Sect’s ’Night Shura’ Zhang Jian!"
This was none other than the founder of Golden Blade Shura Sect, Night Shura Zhang Jian himself. His saber techniques had reached their pinnacle, earning him the reputation of Yuezhou’s foremost expert.
His might and renown exceeded even that of "Roaring West Wind" Wang Tuan.
After successive battles against two Void Nether experts, while Wang Tuan’s physical exhaustion was manageable, his mental fatigue weighed heavily.
This made facing Zhang Jian a perilous endeavor.
Yet behind Wang Tuan lay Pengshan County itself—Sun Zhenshan, less capable and burdened by injuries, was in no position to fight. Retreat was simply not an option.
"Come!"
"Fight!"
Wang Tuan bellowed, rallying his spirit for yet another duel.
......
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
In the heart of Beiyin River, saber shadows spread like darkness, invoking the sensation of oncoming night. Intermittent flashes of Sword Qi would shatter and scatter, producing myriad thunderous echoes.
Hours into the battle, as night receded, the image of two silhouettes in the center came into view—Zhang Jian wielding his saber pursued Wang Tuan with ceaseless ferocity. Wang Tuan, desperately defending, grew increasingly pale and flushed, until the strain finally forced him to cough blood.
His strength waned rapidly.
Yet he hung on.
A brutal melee followed, forcing Wang Tuan into an unrelenting retreat.
Wang Tuan, drained and facing Zhang Jian’s superior prowess, gradually slipped into a dire position, unable to turn the tide.
Sword light like flowing water.
Saber light like enveloping night.
Their clash persisted from dusk through moonrise.
Under the moonlight, Wang Tuan stood blood-soaked, a picture of misery and despair, barely hanging on.
In stark contrast.
Zhang Jian’s saber strokes flowed effortlessly, wielded with casual grace. Blade after blade bore down upon Wang Tuan, trapping him into Zhang Jian’s rhythm. With relentless pressure, Zhang Jian gradually cornered him.
Time rolled on.
With the moon overhead.
Zhang Jian’s pupils narrowed slightly. He smirked inwardly: "It’s over."
Saber raised high—it descended with explosive force, disarming Wang Tuan’s defenses in a single blow. As Zhang Jian thrust forward with intent, his blade aimed directly for Wang Tuan’s throat.
"No!"
"Beware!"
"Stop, Zhang Jian!"
Cries of alarm rang out from Taixu Sword Sect’s southern bank, accompanied by the abrupt launch of a figure heading toward Beiyin River.
It was Sun Zhenshan.
"Faster!"
"Even faster!"
"Move, move, move!"
But his injuries slowed him gravely, and even if he were unharmed, how could his tunneling speed match the velocity of Zhang Jian’s strike?
Sun Zhenshan remained too far.
Meanwhile, Zhang Jian’s saber approached Wang Tuan’s neck.
"It’s the end!"
Those watching Zhang Jian’s precise motions couldn’t help but harbor such thoughts.
Cheers erupted on the northern bank.
While screams broke on the southern bank.
Zhang Jian’s lips curved into a confident smile; Wang Tuan’s complexion turned ghostly with desperation.
And then—
Whoosh!
A flash of Sword Qi pierced the air, striking true to Zhang Jian’s saber, sending it spinning afar and propelling Zhang Jian backward, plunging him straight into Beiyin River.
"What is this?!"
The sudden turn left spectators astounded.
Bang!
Zhang Jian emerged from the water moments later, shaking loose droplets from his robes. His face contorted between anger and shock as he spun to stare toward the south.
Shriek~
A sudden piercing cry echoed—a streak of golden brilliance shot across the southern skies.
A fleeting instant revealed its outline.
A massive golden peng bird flying in from the heavens bore three figures upon its back, faces obscured. Yet the majestic aura emanating from the Great Sun Golden Peng Bird was unmistakable.
When Zhang Jian saw it clearly, his expression soured dramatically: "The Great Sun Golden Peng Bird?!"
...