A Sword Shocks the Horizon, Hatred Etched in Bone
Just as the entire venue remained immersed in the suffocating majesty of the Eternal Night Palace, the atmosphere on the auction stage shifted abruptly.
The host took a deep breath, his face replacing its smile with utmost solemnity. “Everyone, next up is the grand finale of this auction—the legendary treasure countless fellow daoists have eagerly awaited!”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than four cultivators at the Core Formation stage pooled their spiritual power together, laboriously hauling an object shrouded in thick red cloth onto the stage with heavy steps.
The object wasn’t large—about the size of a five-year-old child—but when it thudded onto the custom display stand, it let out a muffled boom, revealing its unimaginable weight.
The host personally gripped a corner of the red cloth and yanked it away!
In an instant, a bone-chilling yin coldness, as if it could freeze the soul itself, permeated the entire auction hall!
It was a pitch-black metal block, its surface swirling with eerie baleful qi. The energy fluctuations it emitted sent every low-rank cultivator’s mind trembling!
“This is the Nine Nether Profound Baleful Iron, born in the core of the Ten Thousand-Zhang Demonic Abyss, absorbing the utmost yin, chill, and baleful qi of the Nine Nethers’ earth veins over ten thousand years! The supreme divine material for forging the highest demonic treasures! Starting bid: one million superior-grade spirit stones! Minimum increment: one hundred thousand!”
The host’s voice carried a stirring power, kicking off the frenzy for this ultimate prize.
“One million one hundred thousand!”
“One million two hundred thousand!”
“Six million.”
A clear, cold, and utterly commanding female voice rang out from the Heaven Character Box One, like a frigid gale that instantly froze the budding bidding fervor.
Yan Qingci had thrown out a sky-high price that deterred most competitors, declaring the Eternal Night Palace’s unyielding intent to claim it.
The hall fell deathly silent at once. Many demonic cultivators who had been itching to bid slunk back into their seats, convinced the item’s fate was sealed.
Yet this silence lasted less than three breaths.
“Six million five hundred thousand.”
This bid drifted leisurely from Heaven Character Box Three.
Swoosh—
All eyes snapped to Heaven Character Box Three!
The mysterious man who had snapped up every pair of stockings and the Illusion Dream Crystal, radiating late-stage Nascent Soul aura, was now bidding against the Eternal Night Palace Saintess?
Yan Qingci sat poised in her box, a flicker of unmistakable surprise crossing her haughty brow for the first time.
She truly hadn’t expected anyone to dare interfere with her, the Eternal Night Saintess—not with the evaluation from Elder Gray Baleful that this man’s demonic qi was “even purer than Mother’s.”
She quelled the ripple in her heart, her icy voice resounding once more, laced with irrefutable authority: “Seven million.”
“Seven million five hundred thousand.”
Su Rui followed without hesitation, his tone casual and carefree.
Yan Qingci’s brows furrowed slightly, frost of displeasure condensing in her phoenix eyes: “Eight million!”
This price had practically burst from her gritted teeth.
It was the limit of spirit stones she could use on this trip. Though Yan Mingli doted on her, the Eternal Night Palace’s resources weren’t infinite.
As she bid, her divine sense pierced the box’s restrictions, sending a voice transmission to Su Rui: “Do you truly insist on competing with me for this Nine Nether Profound Baleful Iron? If you yield now, the Eternal Night Palace will remember this favor and count you as a friend.”
Yan Qingci was only at late-stage Core Formation; her voice transmission naturally didn’t escape Mu Xueyi’s perception.
She turned to Su Rui, her peerless face curving in a mocking half-smile: “Why not let her have it? The Eternal Night Palace isn’t to be trifled with.”
Su Rui met her alluring peach-blossom eyes with his deep gaze, chuckling lightly: “Is my wife scared that if laozi gets this iron and forges some monstrous treasure, it’ll make things even harder for you later?”
Mu Xueyi’s heart skipped. How was this bastard always so perceptive, piercing her thoughts spot-on every time?
Her expression remained impassive, her jade-like face betraying no ripples, her voice carrying its usual detachment: “Think what you will. I’m just warning you—once you claim this iron, you’ll draw not only the Eternal Night Palace, but endless pursuers.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. Su Rui lacked any backing; his Nascent Soul cultivation intimidated only the low ranks. How many Nascent Soul demonic cultivators in the hall coveted this iron? Dozens, at least.
Winning the bid would bring obvious consequences.
“I appreciate my wife’s concern. But…”
Su Rui paused deliberately, a profound smile playing on his lips: “What if this is exactly the situation laozi’s been waiting for?”
Mu Xueyi’s lashes trembled faintly, a flash of shock crossing her usually icy peach-blossom eyes.
He was waiting for it? For this siege from all sides, kill intents closing in?
“What are you planning?”
She couldn’t hold back, lowering her voice to press him.
This man before her—she’d never truly seen through him.
Su Rui offered no answer.
He merely turned his head, giving her a leisurely profile, that meaningful smile unwavering at his lips.
Then, with a flicker of his divine sense, a clear voice transmission rang out: “Eight million five hundred thousand.”
“You!”
Yan Qingci shot to her feet, her chest heaving with fury. This fool in Box Three truly dared slap the Eternal Night Palace’s face?
Her voice transmission now burned with barely contained rage: “Have you considered the consequences of opposing the Eternal Night Palace?”
Su Rui replied indifferently: “The Eternal Night Palace’s name does scare folks. But auctions have always gone to the highest bidder—where’s the opposition? Or… does your Eternal Night Palace just can’t afford to lose?”
“Insolent!”
Yan Qingci’s exquisite face paled with anger, about to retort when Elder Gray Baleful beside her spoke slowly, her voice thick with killing intent: “Saintess, no need to waste words on him. If he wants the iron, let him ‘hold’ it for a moment.”
Yan Qingci instantly grasped her intent. No fighting in the auction hall—but outside?
She drew a deep breath, forcing down her fury, and fell silent on further bids.
In truth, Su Rui’s eight million five hundred thousand superior-grade spirit stones neared his current limit too.
One more million from Yan Qingci, and he’d have yielded—though then it’d be his turn to “raid the base.”
“Eight million five hundred thousand! Any higher bids?”
The host’s voice echoed through the hall, met only by silence.
This was a heavenly price—superior-grade spirit stones weren’t low-grade trash to throw around.
Even the wealthy demonic cultivators held back now.
Whoever took what the Eternal Night Palace wanted was asking for fire.
But in the shadows? Who’d claim this god-iron for top demonic artifacts was anyone’s guess.
Undercurrents had already begun surging silently.
“No higher bids? Then the Nine Nether Profound Baleful Iron goes to this fellow daoist!”
With the host’s impassioned hammer fall, the iron that stirred countless dark tides officially belonged to Heaven Character Box Three.
Su Rui swiftly completed the transaction, stowing the god-iron radiating eerie chill, then turned to Mu Xueyi: “Wife, a nasty fight’s coming next. Care to lend laozi a hand?”
Mu Xueyi’s cold gaze swept over him, her tone frosty as ever: “Given our relationship, do you think I’d help you?”
Su Rui seemed to have anticipated it, chuckling: “Fair enough. With your hatred for me, you’d probably love to see laozi die in the streets.”
He shifted tack, spiritual light gathering at his fingertip as he forced a drop of crimson, crystalline blood from his brow: “This is laozi’s drop of soul blood. Sense it to find me later and link up.”
Mu Xueyi eyed the soul blood, complex emotions flickering in her peach-blossom eyes, but she ultimately reached out and took it.
It felt faintly warm in her palm, then dissolved into a thin red glow that sank into her skin, leaving only a faint blood-red mark.
Seeing her accept it, Su Rui turned resolutely and strode from the box.
To draw every covetous gaze, everyone had to know exactly who held the Nine Nether Profound Baleful Iron.
He directly produced the hefty iron—what four Core Formation cultivators had strained to lift now spun lightly on his fingertip like a ball.
“Hum…”
As it rotated, the iron ceaselessly released bone-piercing yin chill, forming visible black baleful qi ripples that spread outward.
Low-rank cultivators nearby recoiled, faces ashen with horror, their gazes toward Su Rui filled with awe and fear.
The Nascent Soul cultivators lurking in the shadows extended their divine senses like venomous snakes—greedy, probing, murderous—yet none showed themselves first.
Su Rui ignored it all, propping the ominous “ball” on his finger as he transformed into an escaping light, leisurely flying out of Black Abyss City.
Only after fleeing a thousand li to the skies over a desolate, barren mountain range did those long-suppressed tyrannical auras finally unmask, surging like wolf smoke in the night from all directions!
“Finally couldn’t hold back? Time to make your move?”
Su Rui halted his escape light, hovering midair, a bloodthirsty thrill curving his lips.
Meanwhile, Mu Xueyi had quietly left Black Abyss City too.
She hadn’t gone far when a graceful figure appeared like a specter, blocking her path.
It was the Hehuan Sect Master, Hua Xiangrong.
She still wore her elegant Rainbow Robes, jade hairpin in her dark hair, her features enchantingly alluring—now with a smile of certain victory.
“Those old monsters have all chased the Nine Nether Profound Baleful Iron. I want it too, but it won’t fall to me. However…”
Hua Xiangrong’s voice was soft and seductive, but her gaze appraised Mu Xueyi like prey: “Hand over the Illusion Dream Crystal on you. How about it?”
Had Mu Xueyi been with Su Rui, she might have hesitated. But alone? Taking down an early Nascent Soul woman was child’s play.
Mu Xueyi met her gaze coldly, a inexplicable irritation flashing at Su Rui’s prior comment on this woman’s “decent looks.”
She didn’t reply, merely raising her slender hand. With a clear sword cry, Minglan unsheathed, its biting sword intent instantly locking onto Hua Xiangrong.
Hua Xiangrong sensed the peerlessly sharp intent, surprise flickering in her eyes, but confidence remained: “I advise you not to resist. Otherwise… I can’t promise I’ll leave you a whole corpse.”
Before the words faded, Hua Xiangrong struck.
Her jade hand waved lightly, pink rosy glow surging from her sleeve like dancing peach petals, accompanied by bewitching tones, assaulting Mu Xueyi.
This wasn’t pure energy; it wove the Hehuan Sect’s signature seductive divine ability and illusion laws—“Thousand Illusions Soul-Scattering Miasma.”
Where the glow passed, space warped faintly, drawing one into endless blissful dreams, eroding will and spiritual power.
Yet facing this assault that would fluster even mid-stage Nascent Souls, Mu Xueyi’s eyes remained snow-cold. Her slender hand simply unleashed a single sword strike.
The fourteenth form of the Jade Phoenix Sword Art—“Star River Phoenix Dance”!
In that instant, Minglan’s sword light exploded! Like a starry river bursting its banks from the ninth heavens, endless brilliant sword rays converged into a torrent, carrying a clear, aloof, peerless sword intent as it poured forth!
Where the sword light passed, the pink glow melted like snow under sun, collapsing in an instant.
The bewitching tones yielded to clear phoenix cries; the illusion laws crumbled before absolute sharpness!
Hua Xiangrong’s seductive smile froze, turning to utter shock and disbelief. But her reaction was swift—she summoned a Hehuan treasure mirror etched with mandarin duck patterns and a pink silk ribbon for defense!
The mirror shot pink beams to block, the ribbon weaving layered curtains to entangle the sword light.
Yet before this vast sword light that could rend the starry river, her defenses were paper-thin. The pink beams shattered instantly, the silk curtains tore apart effortlessly. The sword light broke through like bamboo, piercing her protective spiritual glow and slamming into her flesh!
“No—! Impossible!!”
She managed only a desperate, unwilling shriek before her form was utterly engulfed by the vast sword light.
As the light faded, Hua Xiangrong’s body had vanished without trace, as if she’d never existed.
Only a Nascent Soul infant resembling her fled in panic, but residual sword light caged it like a prison, inescapable.
Terror twisted the infant’s tiny face as it stared at Mu Xueyi like a ghost: “Jade Phoenix Sword Art… such pure sword intent… you… you can’t be… Sword Sect’s… that one…!”
Mu Xueyi didn’t wait for it to finish. Cold light flashed in her eyes; Minglan quivered faintly, a thin yet condensed-to-extremity sword ray slicing past, extinguishing Hua Xiangrong’s Nascent Soul utterly—soul scattered, poof gone!
Mu Xueyi didn’t spare the dissipating glow a glance. She sensed the soul blood mark in her palm pulsing, then turned into a brilliant sword rainbow, streaking toward Su Rui’s direction.
I’m not going to help that loathsome lecher, she warned herself coldly. This man just can’t die yet. I still need him to forge the Recall Light Mirror, perform the Soul Trace Recall Art, and drag out Li Chengxuan’s killer. That’s all.
Her feelings toward him were nothing but bone-deep hatred!
Before, now… and forever unchanging!