Chapter 164 — The Great Sword-Intent Formation [Part 1]

Left Yan stood slack-jawed and at a loss, while outside the formation, the Wuling Hermit was brimming with smug satisfaction.

"This formation sets the four of us in the Four Symbols positions by our sword intent. Fellow Daoist Xin Yan's sword intent is the sharpest of all, so he guards the central pivot. Nine spirit springs serve as the conduits, threading the whole formation, so the sword intent flows unending. The five intents blend and annihilate one another; unless you've reached the realm where intent turns within the heart, you'll never find the single thread of life. Even with Core Formation cultivation, if your sword intent isn't deep enough, it's all for nothing. Try to break it by brute force, and body and spirit alike are annihilated!"

Pei Xu praised him: "The Hermit's formations are beyond the ken of gods and ghosts. Using sword intent as the formation base—this one has never heard of such a thing!"

The Wuling Hermit was pleased with himself, but he had not lost his reason; he demurred modestly: "If your esteemed sect had not had need of it, this one would never have thought to use such a method." Then he sighed with feeling: "That day, as an adjudicator, I witnessed your sect's Zuo Jin in combat. Honestly, I was astonished. But Fellow Daoist Xin Yan spoke truly—we sword cultivators, if we do not even cultivate the sword, what manner of sword cultivators are we! Still, I never imagined your sect would go to such lengths for a single disciple. That Zuo Yan was born into your sect is truly his fortune!"

Pei Xu shook his head. "Wealth and treasures are important, yes, but what matters more is people. While the people remain, the sect remains; when the people are strong, the sect is strong. Since he is a disciple of this sect, this affair is our duty as well. I only hope he will see his error soon and return to the proper path, so that our efforts are not in vain."

The other three all wore solemn expressions.

Respect rose in the Wuling Hermit's heart. "Rest assured, Sect Master Pei. The boy has a clever mind; he will surely understand your painstaking care."

Pei Xu chuckled. "Were it not for the Hermit's help this time, we would not have known what to do. That fellow is a real headache!"

"No matter. A little tempering, and he will understand: of all the myriad paths under heaven, only sword cultivation is the true path. One sword breaks ten thousand methods—his little tricks are no more than paper paste before sword intent." The Wuling Hermit spoke proudly. He dared make such a boast not from any great confidence in his own talisman-game, but from an absolute confidence in the four men's sword intent.

He had heard it said that among the four of Wukong Yan, Yan Le excelled at management, Shi Dai devoted herself to pill refinement, and Sect Master Pei Xu paid no heed to worldly affairs. He had heard the name of the Ice Chi Sword, but never seen it with his own eyes, and so it had meant little to him. Only now, setting this formation, did he deeply feel how profound the foundations of Wukong Yan—so dazzling at this Sword Trial Gathering—ran, far beyond what outsiders imagined.

Among the five of them, his own sword intent was in fact the weakest, which shamed him greatly. Xin Yan's sword intent was so ferocious and terrifying as he had never seen in his life, far surpassing those so-called masters and veterans.

He had initially worried that the four men's sword intent would not be pure enough and the great formation would be unstable; only now did he realize he had underestimated them.

Especially with Xin Yan's sword intent holding the central pivot, the formation stood firm as rock, indestructible. This formation was stronger than any talisman-game he had ever set for Ren Qiao. Even a Core Formation master, should he attack this formation, would find it hard to escape under the siege of the five men's pure sword intent.

The only thing he found somewhat regrettable was that such a formidable formation held captive merely a single Foundation Establishment cultivator, which left him rather unfulfilled.

Still, to seize the chance to forge ties with Wukong Yan—of that he was a thousand times willing. Especially after witnessing the four's terrifying strength, he was full of confidence in Wukong Yan's future. With elders of such power, meticulously training their disciples, and geniuses emerging in wave after wave among those disciples—such a sect, he truly could not think of any reason it would fail to prosper.

Seeing exhaustion on every face, Pei Xu smiled. "This brat has cost us no end of headaches. Now let him savor it slowly on his own. Come, let us go rest properly, and let the Hermit taste my spirit tea."

The Wuling Hermit hastened to agree.

Zuo Yan had no idea the elders had already left. He did not dare move a muscle.

The colossal chi dragon prowling before him was all too familiar—he had been cleaved by the thing more times than he could count. Second Martial Uncle's sword intent!

Gritting his teeth, Zuo Yan suddenly bawled at the top of his lungs: "Master! Your disciple was wrong! Your disciple will surely turn over a new leaf—let me out, please..."

Master looked cold on the surface, but in truth cared for him deeply. If he begged a little, perhaps Master's heart would soften and he would let him out.

He shouted until his throat was nearly hoarse, yet not a sound came from outside. The bitter waters of Zuo Huanzhong flooded like a raging river, his little heart bobbing and sinking in the brine. He still had not figured out what crime he had committed to make the sect master and the others so furious.

He howled dryly, not daring to shift his feet, while the chi dragon before him, all bared fangs and claws, swam idly at a short distance, its icy, indifferent eyes occasionally sweeping over him—and he felt chilled to the bone from head to toe.

He had not the slightest doubt that if he so much as stirred, the chi dragon's little claw would flick lightly, and he would be torn limb from limb, flesh and blood flying, dead on the spot.

This thing was the real deal!

He wanted to weep but had no tears, trembling all over.

Only now, facing Second Martial Uncle's chi dragon in the flesh, did he grasp how vast the gulf was between the fakes the Pu Demon conjured and the genuine article. Fear—instinctive fear—welled up from the bottom of his heart, and no matter how he restrained it, it spread and grew wild like an irrepressible demonic weed.

He stood trembling, motionless, for half an hour, until the chi dragon sauntered away. But the glance it cast before leaving, Zuo Yan understood at once—

—I'll be back.

Only when the chi dragon vanished completely did that terrifying pressure disappear without a trace. On the empty ground, it seemed nothing had ever happened.

Only then did Zuo Yan recover from his tension and begin to look around. Quickly he realized he was trapped inside a talisman-game. Recalling the astonishing scale of the great formation he had seen from the air, he could not help but shudder.

Mother of god, do the sect master and the others mean to play me to death?

To think that moments ago he had been marveling at the formation's staggering scale—never dreaming he would be tossed straight into it by Second Martial Uncle.

He had to admit he had underestimated Second Martial Uncle's grudge against him!

His mind working again, Zuo Yan thought of how he had bawled for ages with no one answering, and understood at once that the sect master and the others had made up their minds to make him suffer. Before this, he had not failed to imagine what punishments Second Martial Uncle might devise—caning, confinement facing the wall, special training—he had been mentally prepared for all of it.

But for all his scheming, no one could have guessed Second Martial Uncle would come up with something even nastier!