Chapter Ninety-Two: Flicking the Sword Like a Zither, Three Strikes to Obliterate the Fierce Demon-Subduing Monk [Requesting Monthly Tickets]

To cultivators, killing intent was actually very distinct and easy to perceive; it was an aura that was difficult to conceal. The stronger a practitioner's mind and soul, the more acute their perception of such killing intent became. Cultivating killing intent was not as simple as merely harboring a desire to kill; it required staining one's hands with blood and slaughtering countless lives. Only when the resentment, despair, and anger of the dying fused into an aura that clung to the killer could true killing intent take shape.

Amidst the drifting clouds of dusk, raindrops plummeted from the high heavens, splattering against the ground, the embankment, and the lake. The shattering droplets resembled spring flowers in full bloom, draping the vast West Lake in a hazy mist.

The carriage ground to a halt. Its curtains fluttered wildly in the spring breeze, occasionally lifting to reveal a worn, dirty, dark blue Buddhist robe and a pair of mud-caked, black-and-white checkered cloth shoes inside. The overwhelming killing intent, seemingly enough to overflow West Lake, emanated from within the carriage.

Clad in white, An Le held a paper umbrella, standing quietly on the long embankment. The spring wind and rain fell, blocked by the umbrella's surface, as the gentle breeze stirred the tips of his hair. Staring at the familiar carriage and sensing the surging killing intent, the Demon Source Jade Pendant at his waist—a gift from the thousand-year-old serpent demon—began to tremble incessantly.

An Le raised his hand and rested it on Green Mountain at his waist. This carriage looked very familiar. It belonged to the Chancellor Qin Mansion. When Zhu Shan had come to assassinate him, this very carriage had been parked at the entrance of Qingbo Street. Qin Qianqiu was inside. Once, twice, time and time again... "A gentleman repays grievance with justice." In the face of these continuous provocations, an unnamed anger flared in An Le's heart.

Green Mountain trembled slightly, as if sensing his wrath, emitting a soft sword hum. However, An Le's gaze remained fixed on the black-and-white checkered cloth shoes visible through the shifting curtains. With a movement of those mud-caked shoes, the curtain was swept aside, and a burly monk in a dark blue robe stepped out. He was bald with ordination scars on his head, his muscular frame filling out the loose robe.

The monk, Fa Kong, looked at An Le, and An Le looked back. The two stared at each other across the long embankment. Their gazes grew colder and more solemn, like flashes of lightning colliding in silent conflict behind the clouds. The Demon Source Jade Pendant at his waist trembled even more violently, as if an intense, deep-seated hatred engraved within the demon source had suddenly erupted.

With his hand on Green Mountain and holding his umbrella, An Le watched the monk. He did not recognize him, but the killing intent radiating from the monk and the burning light in his eyes left no doubt about his murderous intent toward An Le. The carriage was empty save for this monk. Qin Qianqiu was not inside; perhaps his mind had been shaken by An Le's Noble Sword Qi, instilling a fear that kept him from daring to approach An Le now.

At this very moment, Qin Qianqiu was up in the Lake-Viewing Tower, watching this battle alongside Wang Qinhe, holding high hopes for it. An Le turned his head, his gaze sweeping across to the hexagonal, double-eaved Lake-Viewing Tower. Amidst the painted pillars and carved beams, he could see Qin Qianqiu standing by the railing, staring from afar. An Le withdrew his gaze, a flame smoldering quietly in his chest.

"Amitabha. Almsgiver, this poor monk is Fa Kong. I perceive a dense demonic qi upon you. Consorting with demons is truly unbecoming," the monk said, pressing his palms together. An iron staff engraved with beast patterns was slung across his back as he stared intently at An Le. An Le had never heard of Monk Fa Kong. After a brief thought, he asked, "Are you related to Du Hai?"

"Du Hai is my master," Fa Kong replied.

An Le immediately understood why the Demon Source Jade Pendant at his waist was trembling. It turned out this monk was the disciple of Monk Du Hai, the one who had sealed the great demon at the bottom of the lake. Sharing the same lineage, the identical aura triggered the snake demon's source, causing it to vibrate with rage. In Fa Kong's burning gaze, the demonic qi on An Le was incredibly thick, seemingly billowing from every inch of his skin and flesh. His gaze shifted, landing on the jade pendant at An Le's waist, and he smiled. "Almsgiver, we are destined to cross paths. Someone mentioned that you wish to gather an invincible momentum, and thus invited me to battle you. You wish to challenge all of Lin'an. Though I have only just arrived in the city, I am qualified to fight you. Now, seeing the demonic jade pendant at your waist, it seems our battle is indeed fate. Since that is the case, please do not decline," Fa Kong said with a light chuckle.

Listening to the monk's words, An Le understood why he had appeared. Qin Qianqiu had hired this monk to break his invincible momentum, cloud his state of mind, and sever his future path. Yet, An Le felt little fear. Instead, the blood in his veins surged with anticipation. To walk the path of legends and gather invincible momentum, one could not fear challenges. Although the monk before him possessed an aura far stronger than his own—his latent vitality harboring a terrifying force capable of shattering boulders, and possessing not only profound intent but also a congenital aura—An Le remained undeterred.

This was a cultivator of the fifth stage of Body Tempering. Although his Spirit Refining had not yet reached the fifth stage, he still exuded powerful waves of primordial spirit. He was, without a doubt, the strongest opponent An Le had encountered so far. Because holders of the Minor Sage Token who ranked high on the Minor Sage Board could not challenge those below them, An Le had rarely encountered fifth-stage cultivators. Qin Qianqiu, unable to recruit high-ranking fifth-stage combatants from the board to deal with An Le, had instead brought in Monk Fa Kong.

An invisible pressure permeated the embankment of West Lake, causing the willow branches that had been swaying in the spring breeze to stiffen. Decline the battle? Turn and flee? If he did, having just defeated Ximen Qiuhua and begun to gather his invincible momentum, he would become a laughingstock. The blow to his sharpness, state of mind, and fighting spirit would be immense. This was precisely Qin Qianqiu's goal: to find an opponent who had not surpassed the fifth stage but was still too much for An Le to handle. This created a situation where powerful figures like Madam Hua and Zhao Huangting could not easily intervene, and An Le could not easily retreat. If he accepted the challenge, there was a high probability he would lose. And if he lost, his invincible momentum would crumble, and his legendary path would end before it even truly began.

Along the shores of West Lake, on the long embankment, scholars and poets bustled about. Many spotted An Le, but the atmosphere had grown tense and heavy. The killing intent in the air and the clashing auras made even non-cultivators feel a suffocating pressure, filling them with dread and keeping them at a distance. This section of the embankment seemed to empty out instantly. Only An Le in his white robes remained, holding his umbrella, facing the burly monk standing upon the carriage.

In the next instant, under the shocked gazes of the onlookers, the monk whipped out the iron staff from his back. His vitality erupted, and the countless falling raindrops were blasted back toward the heavens by his surging aura. Dragging the long staff along the embankment, the monk took heavy steps, shattering the bluestone pavement with every stride. In the blink of an eye, the monk transformed into a raging brute. Swinging the staff in a wide arc, he whipped up a low, howling wind, aiming directly at An Le's neck.

The sound of rushing wind pierced the air as several figures flew over, hovering in mid-air with their robes fluttering as they watched from a distance. Li You'an stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he balanced on the branch of a willow tree, observing the sudden battle on the embankment. "A demon-subduing monk from Lotus Flower Temple," Li You'an murmured.

He had intended to take An Le to a certain place, but before he could, Monk Fa Kong had appeared to challenge him. Since An Le wanted to cultivate his invincible momentum and walk the path of legends, Li You'an could not force him away now. Moreover, he sensed a fierce fighting spirit in An Le. Faced with a fifth-stage Body Tempering opponent, An Le showed no sign of retreat or fear; instead, his battle intent boiled. Thus, Li You'an wanted to see if An Le could perform a miracle. If An Le could defeat this monk, then his talk of gathering invincible momentum and walking the path of legends would no longer be mere empty words.

The elder of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, Zhao Huangting, and Madam Hua of the Lin Mansion both sensed the disturbance and rushed over. They did not intervene, choosing instead to watch from afar. At this moment, many cultivators within Lin'an opened their eyes to watch. Compared to An Le's battle with Ximen Qiuhua, this fight was the true test—a test of life and death. After all, this was not an official match on the Minor Sage Board. If he lost and died, the Minor Sage Token would not release energy to save his life. This was a battle that pushed An Le to the absolute brink.

The spring rain fell in a drizzle, shrouding the world in a hazy mist. Early in the morning, West Lake was already abuzz. On the pleasure boats drifting on the lake, figures emerged one after another to stand on the decks. In a reversal of the norm, it was not the people on the banks looking at the pleasure boats, but the people on the boats looking at the banks. Fairy Yun Rou stepped out with an ancient zither on her back, wearing a veil, her brow furrowing slightly as she watched the battle on the embankment.

The killing intent erupting from the monk was truly shocking. Though not on the Minor Sage Board, as the disciple of the holy monk Du Hai, who ranked third on the Demon-Subduing Board, Fa Kong was naturally extraordinary. He might truly shatter An Le's invincible momentum, extinguishing his hot-blooded resolve. Unlike the scholars who were merely watching the spectacle, true cultivators knew just how critical this battle was for An Le. If he won, he would surge forward with unstoppable momentum, gathering an immense invincible force that could propel him into the top ten of the Minor Sage Board. If he lost, his spirit would be crushed, his will eroded, and he might never recover.

Thus, a tight cord of tension gripped the hearts of everyone watching. Feeling the mountain-toppling pressure of Monk Fa Kong charging with his swinging iron staff, An Le's white robes billowed violently from the gale. A congenital pressure pressed down like a mountain. This fifth-stage pressure, unleashed by Fa Kong, was meant to crush An Le's resistance completely, intending to shatter him with a single strike. A fifth-stage Body Tempering cultivator possessed a natural advantage over a third-stage one, a suppression stemming from the difference in cultivation realms. The technique Fa Kong practiced was a top-tier Body Tempering method of Lotus Flower Temple, exceptionally high in grade. Having already birthed profound intent and stepped into the congenital realm, his congenital force was far beyond what An Le, who was only at the third stage of Body Tempering with a formed Inner Elixir, could match.

Thus, if An Le chose to clash head-on, he would inevitably be crushed.

Bang!

An Le tapped the ground with his toes and retreated. The wind whipped up by the iron staff struck his paper umbrella; the shaft shattered instantly, and the canopy was shredded into pieces as if sliced by blades. Using the Crane Stance, An Le glided back several meters across the bluestone pavement without leaving a trace. A sword hum erupted from his waist as Ink Pool shot out, turning into a streak of light that slashed toward Fa Kong at extreme speed. Ink Pool's path was hard to trace, as if it had dissolved into the rain. With only a faint shadow passing, Fa Kong swept his iron staff through the air, producing a sharp ding. Ink Pool collided with the iron staff, sword qi clashing with physical vitality, sparking brilliant fireworks.

Deflected, Ink Pool traced another elusive path at a flick of An Le's finger, darting and weaving at high speed like a wild bee darting through flowers. Fa Kong remained unfazed, his iron staff thrusting repeatedly. Sparks flew continuously, and a succession of crisp, subtle sounds echoed amidst the flashing sparks. It was sharper than the patter of spring rain on roof tiles, and more frantic than the buzzing of wild bees.

After a brief exchange, the rain continued to fall. A smile appeared on Fa Kong's face. "Amitabha. Almsgiver, if this is the limit of your skills, then this poor monk shall begin sending you to the afterlife." Before his voice could fade, Fa Kong's body swelled. The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a ferocious, wrathful expression, like a wrathful Vajra Arhat. A mysterious martial arts intent spread, and killing intent surged. An Le felt his mind wander for a moment; West Lake seemed to turn into a lake of blood, and the spring rain turned into a downpour of blood. Wrathful Vajra Profound Intent!

An Le was only half a step away from reaching the Profound Stage of Body Tempering. He quickly realized he was being influenced by the profound intent. However, Fa Kong had already closed the distance, his iron staff smashing down ruthlessly. An Le's eyes narrowed. The blood in his body surged, and beneath every inch of his skin, scriptures began to circulate.

Roar!

With a furious roar, an ancient demon tiger roared at the stars, shattering the streaming light! Green Mountain flew into his hand, and An Le held the sword horizontally to block the strike. As he blocked the blow, his body sank. A terrifying congenital force surged from the iron staff. An Le dropped into a split to redirect the force, then used the Ancient Demon Ape Stance to nimbly retreat. Fa Kong thrust his staff forward in a sudden jab, the staff moving like a spear, like a flood dragon!

Thud!

Sword met staff, and a deafening explosion erupted. An Le's body was sent flying ten Zhang away like a broken kite by the congenital force. But Fa Kong was relentless. Having gained the upper hand, he pressed his advantage, intending to beat An Le to death in one go. The staff, like a dragon, bore down on him once more without mercy. An Le pressed his fingers down, and Ink Pool shot out as if emerging from a falling raindrop, slashing toward Fa Kong's neck. However, Fa Kong raised his hand and clawed at the air, a formless claw print appearing. "Demon-Binding Buddhist Hand!"

Clang, clang, clang!

A series of crisp sounds rang out. Ink Pool clashed against the Buddhist hand technique of Lotus Flower Temple, but it seemed locked in a cage, unable to break free. "Almsgiver, your demonic qi must be purified. In this life, I despise demonic qi the most. All who consort with demons must die!" Fa Kong declared. He swung his staff down once more, aiming to shatter An Le's skull. If it hit, his head would surely split open, scattering bone and brain matter.

At this moment, Fa Kong felt relaxed. He knew the youth before him could not win. The gap was too wide; a fifth-stage Body Tempering cultivator against a third-stage one was a complete mismatch. Did An Le hope to bridge the gap with Body Tempering techniques? The technique Fa Kong practiced was also a top-tier Body Tempering method. Once the Wrathful Vajra Arhat Body was formed, An Le was destined to be crushed.

At this moment, An Le's white robes fluttered, his expression grave. The sword furnace between his brows chimed, and his primordial spirit, seated upon the embryonic Heart Sword, snapped its eyes open. Ink Pool, trapped by the Demon-Binding Buddhist Hand, suddenly went still and quiet. Yet, around the Buddhist hand, the falling raindrops were completely seized by An Le's mind. Sword qi drifted in, omnipresent and closing in! Fa Kong's face shifted slightly. His blood surged, and a golden image of a wrathful Arhat seemed to manifest around him. Countless strands of sword qi slashed against it, instantly covering the golden Arhat's surface with crisscrossing sword marks.

The technique "Sword Qi Close" was a secret method from the Minor Sage Token, and its power was formidable. It scaled with one's Spirit Refining cultivation. Since An Le's Spirit Refining had reached the fourth stage and birthed a primordial spirit, the power of his Sword Qi Close was extraordinary. Though suppressed in Body Tempering, An Le reclaimed the upper hand in Spirit Refining. Visualizing the Sword Waterfall Diagram, the Sword Qi Close under the spring rain naturally carried the power of a sword waterfall. Even Fa Kong dared not underestimate it.

The Demon-Binding Buddhist Hand was forced to release its grip. Fa Kong knit his brows and glared. Swinging his iron staff, he pressed closer to An Le, the staff shadows overlapping in the Coiling Dragon Staff technique of Lotus Flower Temple. Knowing An Le's Body Tempering was weak, Fa Kong focused entirely on this weakness. Since An Le was his equal in Spirit Refining, engaging in a battle of spirits was unwise. Playing to one's strengths while avoiding weaknesses was the correct way to fight.

However, to Fa Kong's surprise, An Le did not retreat. Raising Green Mountain, he unleashed the aura of the Ancient Demon Five Animals, a towering demonic qi rising as he charged with his sword. The three sword techniques—Bamboo Branch, Fragrant Grass, and Youth's Travels—descended instantly. Enhanced by the Born Swordsman fate, the sword qi interweaved into a waterfall of light.

"Almsgiver, you dare unleash such demonic qi before me! How foolish! I shall deliver you to the afterlife as an evil demon!"

Seeing the demonic qi and ancient demon phenomena conjured by An Le's Ancient Demon Five Animals, Monk Fa Kong spoke coldly. He assumed the form of the wrathful Vajra. In his Niwan Palace, a Buddha seemed to open its eyes, shedding brilliant Buddhist light. The illuminating Buddhist light shone down, intending to melt away the demonic qi rising from An Le, erode his fighting spirit, and disrupt his state of mind. Yet, in the next moment, An Le's expression turned peculiar. He thrust Green Mountain forward, and a magnificent, sun-like sword qi surged from him. The ancient demon phenomena were merely visions brought by the Martial Scripture, not actual demonic qi, so they were entirely unafraid of the Buddhist light. Moreover, with the Noble Sword Qi protecting him, how could An Le fear such illumination?

The Buddhist light shone upon An Le's body, feeling like the warmth of a fireplace, nothing more. An Le thrust out Green Mountain. The sword hovered, and he struck it with his palm. "Collapse Sword," An Le muttered, striking the hilt of Green Mountain. The Noble Sword Qi instantly crushed the Buddhist light unleashed by Fa Kong. Infused with Noble Sword Qi, Green Mountain lunged forward in the Collapse Sword stance, parting the rain and leaving a clear, hollow vacuum in its wake.

Green Mountain slammed into Fa Kong. The monk roared, attempting to block the terrifying sword with the phantom of his Vajra Arhat Golden Body. But the combination of Noble Sword Qi and Green Mountain possessed unparalleled piercing power. It tore right through Fa Kong's golden body, pierced his flesh, and passed clean through him, spraying a fountain of blood. Yet, the congenital body of a fifth-stage cultivator was incredibly resilient; despite such a wound, he did not fall. However, An Le's onslaught was far from over.

With a thought, Sword Qi Close manifested again. Having broken free from the Buddhist hand, Ink Pool vanished into the air, only to reappear and shoot forward like a bolt, aiming for Fa Kong's palm. A ruthless light flashed in Fa Kong's eyes. Relying on his powerful fifth-stage body, he grabbed Ink Pool with his bare hand. If he could block these two thunderous strikes, it would be his turn to counterattack!

Buzz, buzz, buzz!

Ink Pool trembled, emitting a crisp sword hum. The corner of An Le's mouth curled up. He glanced at the trapped Ink Pool. Within the sword furnace of his Niwan Palace, his primordial spirit opened its eyes. The embryonic Heart Sword hovered before it. With a flick of its finger, it plucked a note. Plucking the sword like a zither. The Five-Note Death Melody.

"Gong!"

The note of the death melody merged into Ink Pool's sword qi. Monk Fa Kong's heart leaped. He tried to let go, but it was too late. Ink Pool vibrated, unleashing a terrifying, destructive sword qi. The hand that had gripped the sword was instantly blown apart, turning flesh, blood, and bone to dust. Ink Pool drove itself into Fa Kong's arm, forcing him to stumble back several steps. But within the sword furnace of An Le's brow, the primordial spirit continued to pluck the sword. Two more plucks, two more notes. Ink Pool, embedded in Fa Kong's arm, shrieked with sword qi. Merged with the death melody, it exploded twice in rapid succession.

With the first explosion, Fa Kong's entire arm vanished. With the second explosion, half of Fa Kong's torso was blasted to pieces.

Plucking the sword like a zither, the sword hums sounded like music. With the Five-Note Death Melody, he slew a fifth-stage cultivator. Monk Fa Kong lost all ability to resist, unable to withstand An Le's sword qi any longer. The fine drizzle fell, washing over Fa Kong, whose body was half-shattered, his eyes wide in absolute disbelief. Green Mountain flew back to An Le's hand. Channeling his blood and vitality into the blade, sword qi erupted. Without wasting words on the dying monk, An Le swept his sword across. A freshly severed head rolled onto the ground. The demon-subduing monk, Fa Kong, was dead.

Yet, after slaying Monk Fa Kong, An Le's aura surged dramatically. He turned slowly, directing his gaze toward the hexagonal, double-eaved Lake-Viewing Tower standing tall by the lakeshore. With a thought, Ink Pool whistled through the air. An Le took a step forward, stepping onto the sword. Sword light raged and intertwined. His white robes and wide sleeves billowed in the spring wind, rain, and killing intent. Like a peerless sword immortal, he rode the sword, soaring straight into the sky.

***

"Brother Shen."

"Yes."

As Shen Changqing walked along the road, he would greet or nod to those he recognized. But no matter who it was, everyone wore a blank expression, as if indifferent to everything.

Shen Changqing had long since grown accustomed to this. This was the Demon Suppression Division, an organization responsible for maintaining the stability of the Great Qin Empire. Its primary duty was to slay demons and ghosts, though it also handled other side businesses. It could be said that everyone in the Demon Suppression Division had their hands stained with blood. When one became accustomed to life and death, they grew indifferent to many things.

When he first arrived in this world, Shen Changqing had found it difficult to adapt, but over time, he grew used to it. The Demon Suppression Division was massive. Those who could remain here were either powerful masters or individuals with the potential to become one. Shen Changqing belonged to the latter category.

Within the Demon Suppression Division, there were two main career paths: Guardian and Demon Slayer. Anyone entering the division started as the lowest-ranking Demon Slayer and was promoted step by step, with the ultimate hope of becoming a Guardian. Shen Changqing's predecessor had been a trainee Demon Slayer, the lowest rank among them.

With his predecessor's memories, he was highly familiar with the environment of the Demon Suppression Division. Before long, Shen Changqing stopped in front of a pavilion. Unlike the other parts of the division, which were filled with a grim aura of slaughter, this pavilion stood out like a crane among a flock of chickens, presenting a unique tranquility amidst the blood-scented compound.

At this moment, the pavilion's doors were wide open, with people occasionally entering and leaving. After a brief hesitation, Shen Changqing stepped inside.

Upon entering, the environment changed abruptly. The scent of ink, mingled with a faint metallic tang of blood, rushed over him, causing his brow to furrow instinctively before quickly smoothing out. The bloody scent carried by everyone in the Demon Suppression Division was virtually impossible to wash away.