Volume One: The Sovereign’s Edict Chapter Ninety-Four: The Path Ascends One Step Higher

“Daoist Bai’s calculation was spot on! The Old Mountain Bandits are relentless, still scheming to attack the camp amid the chaos. The Tianyang Pearl is here as well—what ransom should we set for the Old Mountain to redeem it?”

Cui Ran gathered his generals around, laughing heartily as they looked at Ma Deren, who had been frozen solid. The Tianyang Pearl was not invincible; Bai Yiting had anticipated his arrival and prepared magical artifacts in advance to counter the pearl. With the Heavenly Yin Pearl present, the temperature was lowered to freezing, temporarily sealing the Tianyang Pearl. Without its power source, Ma Deren was merely a cultivator slightly stronger than an ordinary disciple, incapable of causing much trouble.

“There are six in total, especially that puppet master. Were it not for his master’s sake, I’d have killed him on the spot!” Bai Yiting approached and patted Ma Mingyuan’s trembling cheek. “Young man, don’t be arrogant. With a reckless senior like you, how many hardships will you have to endure?”

It turned out that before this, the temporary camp had been deliberately set with a fake camp to trap any attackers. Ma Deren, harboring a small-minded grudge from losses in Flame City, was bound to seek revenge here.

With Bai Yiting leading the setup and teaching the younger generation a lesson, once the ice melted and Ma Deren regained consciousness, his limbs were tightly bound, and the Tianyang Pearl was sealed inside a jade box designed to block magical energy.

“Old Daoist Bai! You’re so devious! Is everyone at Baiyun Temple like you? Bah!” Ma Deren cursed. “Even if all of you attacked together, you couldn’t defeat me! I refuse to accept this!”

“Hahaha, the longer one cultivates, the duller one’s mind becomes. In this camp of hundreds of thousands, how could you possibly turn the tide? Wait until your masters come with their treasures to ransom you. Consider yourself lucky if I spare your lives.”

They secured the captives with restraints and placed them in prison carts. Taking advantage of the gloomy weather, they hurried along the rugged mountain path toward the capital.

The official road from Changlecheng to Baiyu Capital was relatively flat, but it was too chaotic there now. Unable to take the main road, they chose a longer, more secluded mountain route for safety, hoping to get ahead of the others.

Liuxiaoyi sat on horseback, wistfully looking back at the rising smoke behind them. After rescuing Sword One, he had gained little beyond a small sword pendant and no answers he sought.

This nameless sword technique was definitely linked to Langya, but Sword One avoided the topic, shaking his head in denial and telling him that to uncover the secret, he must visit Langya. This token guaranteed free passage.

“How much do you all know about Langya? Is Sword One really as formidable as the rumors say?” Liuxiaoyi asked those around him, perplexed.

Unconsciously, a group of good friends had gathered nearby, each more knowledgeable about the martial world than he was—true mentors and companions.

“Langya is the strongest sect within the Iron Dynasty and the surrounding regions. If it weren’t for Duan Ming’s origin there and his knowledge of many secrets, Sword One could have defeated him, especially before the ghost generals of Songfu Mountain fully awoke,” Li Jue said with reverence bordering on fear.

As the foremost righteous sect, Langya’s conduct was not as upright as its name suggested. During Songfu Mountain’s heyday, Langya had exerted effort to suppress others but tolerated sects that cultivated using human souls, which led to several wars in the Iron Dynasty.

Disciples training at Langya Sword Mountain were called Sword Apprentices and naturally looked down on others in the martial world. This arrogance, combined with their protective nature toward their own, often caused trouble when they descended from the mountain. Others rarely dared to retaliate, and their notorious reputation grew.

Now, Langya had been pressured to the point of reshuffling sects within the dynasty. This opportunity was being used by the Crown Prince to clear Langya’s longstanding stains.

But no one anticipated a traitor like Duan Ming hiding within Langya undetected, summoning remnants from Songfu Mountain and causing the current catastrophe. Langya’s shadow remained, and more major moves were expected.

“When there’s time, I must visit Langya and inquire. I can also use that mysterious ‘Mystic Moon’ technique Sword One used.”

At this, everyone was shocked. Li Jue widened his eyes: “Brother Liu, don’t speak carelessly. Langya’s thirteen techniques are carved on cliff faces. Only the thirteen chosen senior brothers, whose names are erased, can learn the orthodox methods. Such precious skills—how could you possibly know them?”

Liuxiaoyi stopped arguing, having heard such claims repeatedly along the way. It seemed a widely accepted belief that no one could master all thirteen Langya forms simultaneously.

To him, this was clearly a rumor. Why would a sword technique be created if it could not be mastered fully? And why would it be carved on cliffs for all to study?

Though unable to practice the entire set, many talented individuals had gleaned wonderful sword methods from it, helping Langya grow stronger generation after generation.

Night fell at the right moment. On the battlefield near Changlecheng, surprisingly no bodies lay scattered. Three of the four camps had been completely destroyed, their supplies abandoned and unattended.

As the sun set, sinister energies rose. The ghost generals who had once fought on Songfu Mountain stretched their limbs, becoming more vigorous, and surged through the city walls shattered by a giant turtle, entering Changlecheng.

Before Xue family’s military camp, nine Cloud Dragon flags fluttered in the wind, each bearing a colossal dragon weaving around the camp. They absorbed approaching ghost soldiers, turning them into nourishment for the formation.

The brilliance of the Cloud Dragon Flag formation lay not in countering the yin energy, but in using it as sustenance to maintain this vast array. As long as the ghost soldiers attacked, the Xue camp gates would never be breached.

Initially, the guards were worried, but over time, seeing the nine dragons’ fierce strength and no sign of defeat, they relaxed.

“Where is Ma Deren? I haven’t seen him or his brothers return,” Xue Ren asked upon returning to the camp, sensing a strange heaviness and noticing many generals missing.

Chunguang replied softly, “My lord, he was sent by the old prime minister to raid Cui Ran’s camp. I fear his fate is grim.”

After Ma Deren’s departure, everyone understood Xue Pan’s intentions. This man was sure to harm the troops. Tossing him into the fire pit to fend for himself was safer for the Xue army.

“Father! You’ve abandoned Ma Deren as a pawn? This will only dishearten the Old Mountain disciples!” Xue Ren could no longer contain his anger and shouted at Xue Pan, who sat quietly resting.

Xue Pan slowly opened his eyes, a sharp gleam flashing, startling Xue Ren. His father had never practiced any cultivation method—how could he exert such pressure?

“Without me, all Old Mountain disciples would be dead by now! That fool here would have destroyed the Cloud Dragon Flag formation. Do you think a single Tianyang Pearl can withstand the ghost generals of Songfu Mountain?” Xue Pan spoke deliberately. None of the Old Mountain experts present dared to contradict him; all listened humbly.

He was right. Outside, ghost soldiers and generals were everywhere. Every fallen warrior was summoned as a spectral soldier. In one afternoon, Duan Ming raised an army of a hundred thousand, forming chariots and beasts from condensed yin energy, assembling battle formations for the charge.

It was rare for one person to control so many summoned entities. His purple little flag could summon storms and command thunder—far beyond the Tianyang Pearl’s resistance.

Because they could not withstand this, the Four Elders of Spring and Autumn tacitly allowed the old prime minister to deceive Ma Deren into going outside. If the Cloud Dragon formation broke, Old Mountain’s casualties would be incalculable.

“Time’s almost up. I think Changlecheng will fall soon. We should withdraw and follow,” Xue Pan stood before the tent, watching the lightning and thunder over Changlecheng, sighing. “Such a splendid city, ruined like this. How many died when Songfu Mountain was uprooted? Fate is cruel; even sages are powerless!”

In his eyes, heaven’s timing, terrain, and human harmony all rested on Duan Ming. Preserving the family wealth today was already a blessing. Xue Pan dared not act rashly; since the campaign began, this was his first frustration.

Even more distressed was Xun Yong, struck by heavenly thunder, his head battered and armor shattered. Fortunately, his deputies rescued him in time.

“I won’t leave! Changlecheng must not fall! Let me through!” Xun Yong was dragged by his deputies toward the city wall, unwilling to surrender the city to these evil spirits and betray Prince Qin’s orders.

“General! We can’t hold the city! The ghost soldiers outnumber us. We have no countermeasures. We must retreat first!” The deputies urged him, forcing him onto a cart and heading outside the city.

Xun Yong looked at Song Shuzai, who walked on thin air atop the wall, bitterly laughing and calling him a rat. “You scoundrel, you even deceived me!”

If not for Song Shuzai’s sudden intervention, blocking a fatal blow with golden foil paper, Xun Yong would have become a ghost general, slain alongside Duan Ming’s forces.

No one knew that the timid civil official governing Changlecheng possessed profound cultivation to counter Duan Ming. Duan Ming focused all attention on Song Shuzai, attempting to overwhelm him with sheer numbers.

The golden foil book in Song Shuzai’s hands scattered golden powder, dispelling the gloom. No amount of yin energy could stop his advance.

Like a heavenly deity, he stood upright in the void atop the highest city wall, supported by a sheet of golden foil beneath his frail body, valiantly repelling intruders.

“Stop dawdling, Commander Li! Lead the Changlecheng forces to retreat!” Li Qing had been dazed for a long time. Having worked with Song Shuzai for years, he never imagined such power. The shimmering golden light dazzled his eyes.

A sheet of golden foil flew before him, lifting him and swiftly escorting him toward Xun Yong’s retreat route.

“Almost everyone’s gone. Duan Ming, kid, I’m done playing with you!” Song Shuzai closed the golden book, the golden light fading, and his figure vanished without a trace.