Ku Yi stood at the edge of the cliff, gazing down toward the snowy plains below. From there, he could see the disciples of Qingxiao Sect surrounding Yang Jueding and his group. His eyes shifted farther out, narrowing as his brows furrowed tightly.
Through the veil of snow and mist, he spotted seven figures walking side by side toward the Qingxiao Sect disciples. His expression instantly darkened.
"They came too? …This is bad!"
He spun around and dashed back up the mountain without hesitation.
At that moment, Xu Ning and several disciples of Qingxiao Sect arrived near Yang Jueding's position. Xu Ning stepped ahead of everyone, her posture straight and her face calm.
"These seven aren't ordinary people," Zhang Yuchun murmured as he came to her side.
Xu Ning was slightly shorter than him, but the aura she exuded was far stronger. Her gaze remained still and cold, as though the seven approaching figures didn't even exist in her eyes.
She only gave a quiet "mm" in response to Zhang Yuchun's warning.
Zhang Yuchun turned around and saw more disciples coming down from the mountain in the distance, which made him smile.
Aside from the true disciples who cultivated the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra, the other Qingxiao Sect disciples trained daily in martial arts and ate well. Yang Jueding never hid his techniques; he passed on his powerful internal art to them, causing their progress to soar. Though not all had reached the level of first-rate experts, none of them could be considered weaklings.
In Zhang Yuchun's eyes, this battle wasn't a disaster—it was a valuable test.
'What martial artist hasn't gone through blood and steel?' he thought. 'How can a sect stay strong without facing real battles? Only by witnessing true strength can our disciples aim higher.'
Qin Ye arrived beside Xu Ning, iron staff in hand. After hesitating a moment, he wisely stepped back, unwilling to steal his senior sister's spotlight.
The Seven Sons of Qingxiao had all gathered. Huang Shan, who had just broken through to the first layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm, was particularly excited—ready to prove himself. But when he saw there were only seven enemies ahead, he quickly calmed down.
'When there are many foes,' he thought, 'some are bound to be weak. But when there are only seven… each one must be terrifying.'
Having experienced the martial world before, Huang Shan understood this well. Judging by the poise and the rhythm of their steps, those seven weren't ordinary opponents—they were monsters in human form.
The Qingxiao Sect disciples lined up neatly behind Qin Ye. Watching them, Li Yang couldn't help but feel amazed. The sect had changed so much since his last visit. Some of the youths who had once been childish and timid now stood steady, unflinching even in the face of deadly foes.
Gradually, the seven figures emerged from the swirling snow—six men and one woman. Each held a weapon, their faces hidden behind ghastly demon masks, looking like soul collectors who had walked straight out of the underworld.
"Senior Brother, who'd have thought a bunch of kids would dare block our way?" one of them mocked.
"Don't underestimate that girl," another said coldly. "She cut down my flying knife earlier. Even if the force behind the blade had weakened, that alone proves her martial skill isn't simple."
"If the so-called divine art of the Martial Myth is really here," a third said, laughing, "then we're in for quite the surprise."
"Indeed," another sneered. "Our dear Crown Prince—he always acts carefree and detached, but wherever he goes, he's got a purpose. Never simple, that one."
The seven continued their idle chatter, not even bothering to acknowledge the Qingxiao Sect disciples before them.
Yang Jueding's gaze locked onto them, a flicker of realization flashing through his mind. His expression changed drastically. "Could it be them…" he muttered under his breath.
Li Yang turned to him, startled. "You know who they are?"
"They might be the Seven Fiends of the Demonic Sect," Yang Jueding said grimly. "The legends say they are six men and one woman, each wielding a different weapon. Every one of them has the strength of a regional martial champion. One of them even once claimed the title of top expert in Yuzhou. After the Demonic Sect was wiped out by the imperial army, they vanished. I never imagined that twenty years later, they'd still be alive…"
His tone was heavy, his face pale.
Li Yang's heart tightened. As a noble-born son, he knew far more about the Demonic Sect than ordinary martial artists—and even he felt a chill.
Since the founding of the Great Li Dynasty, no sect had ever matched the Demonic Sect's might—not even the Three Founding Sects of the dynasty.
Their influence once spanned across several provinces, overwhelming the martial world with countless experts. Many of its disciples had been recognized as regional number ones. Their power had reached an almost mythical level.
And yet, they hadn't been destroyed by righteous sects—they were annihilated by imperial decree. The emperor himself had mobilized the army to crush them, paying a steep price to do so.
It was no exaggeration to say that the last great "Martial Myth" of the world was the Demonic Sect itself. But since the court banned all discussion of them and erased their records, few of the younger generation even knew their name.
"The Seven Fiends were among the sect's most terrifying elites," Li Yang whispered. "Their strength rivaled that of the Four Great Protectors. Fighting them head-on is suicide."
Yang Jueding's eyes narrowed. "If we try to flee now, we'll only die faster."
His gaze shifted toward Xu Ning. She had always seemed unfathomable to him—but even she, against the Seven Fiends, filled him with unease.
He clenched his jaw, stepping forward to stand beside her.
The Seven Fiends of the Demonic Sect stopped about five zhang away, their eerie masks glinting in the dim light as they stared mockingly at Xu Ning.
The only woman among them chuckled softly. "Not bad, little girl. You've got some skill. How about joining us? Agree, and you'll have your pick of the world's martial arts. We'll even grant you rare herbs to refine your body. In less than five years, you'll reach the highest realm and become a true apex master."
Xu Ning didn't answer. Instead, she slowly drew her sword and leveled it at the seven. Her meaning was clear.
The fiends' faces were hidden, but the tension in their stance revealed their anger at her defiance.
Yang Jueding had just taken his position beside Xu Ning when a sharp screech pierced the air between the two mountains. The sound was so familiar that his head instinctively lifted.
He recognized it immediately—and so did every Qingxiao Sect disciple present. Even Xu Ning looked up.
The woman in the demon mask gave a taunting laugh.
"What's this? Are you starting to pray to the heavens already?"
Among the Seven Fiends of the Demonic Sect, the man wielding a massive axe let out a cold laugh. His figure was like a tower of iron, broad-shouldered and imposing.
They had all heard the distant screech of an eagle but dismissed it. What, could Qingxiao Sect actually command birds to fight us?
But then, a violent gust tore down from the sky, scattering the snow mist above their heads. The Seven Fiends instinctively looked up—and what they saw made their expressions twist in shock.
A vast shadow descended, blotting out the faint sunlight, casting them into darkness. Their demon masks revealed only their eyes, and now those eyes were wide with fear and disbelief.
Hovering above them was a colossal black eagle with a wingspan of five zhang. Its enormous wings flapped with thunderous force, stirring the air into waves. Its talons hung in midair, glinting with a chilling gleam—sharper and deadlier than any of their blades.
The Seven Fiends, veterans who had roamed the martial world for decades, had always believed themselves to be the embodiment of terror. But in that instant, they felt what true fear was. As one, they leapt backward, widening the distance between themselves and the monstrous eagle.
Sunlight pierced through the thinning mist, spilling over the black eagle's vast form. And upon its back stood a man.
A young man. Handsome. Calm. Unimaginably composed.
The Qingxiao Sect disciples were equally stunned by Xiao Ba's sudden arrival—but when they recognized the figure standing on its back, their shock turned into wild excitement.
Yang Jueding let out a long breath of relief. The Seven Fiends' presence had been suffocating—yet now, seeing Li Qingqiu, the tension melted away.
Still, one question burned in his mind. How… how could he stand on an eagle and descend from the sky like that?
Yang Jueding's blood surged with exhilaration. His hands clenched tightly inside his sleeves as his heart pounded.
Li Yang stared up, mouth open, eyes blank.
"Who… who are you, monster?" the whip-wielding Fiend stammered. The oppressive force radiating from both Li Qingqiu and the black eagle crushed even their arrogance.
Li Qingqiu didn't answer. He merely raised his right hand.
Instantly, the air filled with the sharp sound of blades leaving their sheaths. The iron swords of the Qingxiao Sect disciples flew up one after another—more than ten in total—hovering in the air around him.
The Seven Fiends froze, eyes widening. Then, without hesitation, they turned and fled.
The disciples of Qingxiao Sect were stunned into silence. Even Zhang Yuchun and Yang Jueding stood speechless, while some disciples looked down at their empty scabbards in disbelief—half expecting they were dreaming.
Standing tall upon the eagle's back, Li Qingqiu swept his right hand forward.
In that instant, the hovering swords shot out like streaks of lightning, cutting through the air with a deafening whine.
One of the Fiends, dual blades in hand, heard the sound and turned instinctively. He swung both sabers with all his might to block.
Pfft—
Blood sprayed high into the air. His head flew off his shoulders, his body still frozen in the act of attack. His twin sabers shattered like glass, fragments scattering like snowflakes.
The remaining six Fiends trembled in terror. Realizing they couldn't escape, they turned together to fight back—but it was far too late.
The flying swords streaked toward them at a speed beyond comprehension. Their reactions looked painfully slow in comparison. One after another, their bodies were pierced clean through. The last one—a woman—was struck by multiple blades, her body dragged backward for more than ten zhang before being nailed upright into the snow. Her limbs hung limp, and the despair in her eyes gleamed through the slits of her demon mask.
From the moment Li Qingqiu moved to the instant the Seven Fiends died, not even two breaths had passed.
So fast that even the disciples of Qingxiao Sect hadn't yet realized what had happened.
Far away, Su Xiling had just reached the cliffside. She arrived in time to witness the entire scene. Her eyes widened; she rubbed them hard, certain she must be seeing things.
Li Qingqiu lowered his hand. The swords embedded in the corpses vibrated, then flew back toward him, swirling in formation. With a casual flick of his sleeve, the blades lost their glow and reverted to ordinary iron swords, returning to their owners' scabbards.
Each disciple felt a jolt through their wrists, then looked down—only to see their swords sheathed as though they'd never left.
"Elder Yang," Li Qingqiu said evenly. "See to the corpses."
As his words faded, Xiao Ba spread its mighty wings, sending a gale roaring across the snowfield. With a powerful thrust, it shot upward and vanished into the mist above.
Even after he was gone, no one moved.
Li Yang collapsed to his knees in the snow, staring blankly at the sky. His mind felt hollow, his voice faint as he murmured, "Was that… martial arts… or immortality?"
Xu Ning, meanwhile, looked into the distance. She could still sense the clashing auras of Zhao Linglong and Dian Ming. Without waiting for the others to recover, she tightened her grip on her sword and sprinted forward—disappearing into the blizzard.
…
In the guest courtyard, Yan Lan sat reading as the wind howled outside. Ku Yi had gone down the mountain a while ago, yet for some reason, unease filled his heart. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus on the text before him.
"Could this calamity be more than just Qingxiao Sect's trial?" he muttered under his breath.
He set the book aside and rose to his feet, heading toward the courtyard gate.
Under the nearby tree, Ku Er—still recuperating—opened his eyes and stood, following behind him.
The moment they stepped outside, a fierce gust of wind swept through, shaking the forest and sending cascades of snow tumbling down from the branches. Yan Lan raised an arm to shield himself from the falling snow—then suddenly, the world went dark before light returned in an instant.
Instinctively, he turned his head—and froze.
A monstrous black eagle streaked across the sky above the forest, wings outstretched like a shadow over the land. Upon its back stood a lone figure, his back turned to them.
Yan Lan stood there in disbelief, wondering if his eyes deceived him.
Ku Er stepped up beside him, just catching sight of Xiao Ba's wings—Li Qingqiu's form hidden behind them.
"What a beast…" Ku Er whispered, voice trembling. "To think such a creature exists in these mountains?"
At that moment, high above, Li Qingqiu lightly stomped his foot on Xiao Ba's head and muttered, "Could you not show off so much for once?"