Seeing Luo Xu complete his inspection, Bloodwing Great Prince urged gruffly, “Zhang Ruochen, no stalling. Exchange now and release the princess.”
“As you wish,” Zhang Ruochen replied calmly, leading Luo Ji forward.
Luo Xu followed without hesitation, *Ten Thousand Lights* hovering above him, ready to strike.
Bloodwing’s gaze locked onto Luo Ji, itching to snatch her from Zhang Ruochen’s grasp.
Ten zhang from Bloodwing, Zhang Ruochen halted, the Saint Path Ancient Tea Tree within reach.
Yet, he sensed faint binding forces from Bloodwing’s yellow saint box, preventing easy retrieval of the tree.
Their eyes met, each understanding the other’s intent.
Zhang Ruochen unbound Luo Ji, gently pushing her forward, while Bloodwing slowly closed the box.
The atmosphere grew tense.
As Luo Ji reached Bloodwing, the box’s hold on the tree vanished.
“Swish.”
Zhang Ruochen and Bloodwing acted simultaneously—one enveloping the tree in power, the other shielding Luo Ji.
A massive spatial vortex appeared, its immense suction drawing the tree inside.
Instantly, the tree materialized in the jungle world, its roots burrowing into fertile soil.
“Zhang Ruochen, no one threatens the Rakshasa and lives. You die today,” Bloodwing snarled, ordering hidden Rakshasa, “Attack!”
“Boom.”
Purple Lotus Mountain’s clouds dissipated, dark red currents coalescing in the sky, forming a ferocious claw slashing at Zhang Ruochen.
The claw exuded a savage aura, like a Great Saint beast’s strike, far beyond a Saint King’s power.
Unfazed, Zhang Ruochen stood as immense energy surged behind him.
A grand ninth-grade formation materialized, unleashing blinding saint light, like a divine sun, dazzling all.
“Crash.”
The light clashed with the claw, unleashing a cataclysmic shockwave.
Destructive energy ravaged outward, annihilating everything.
Even top Nine-Step Saint Kings would struggle to withstand it.
Mountains collapsed, dust rising like smoke, shrouding the region in darkness.
*Ten Thousand Lights* shielded Zhang Ruochen and Luo Xu, sparing them harm.
Opposite, beyond Bloodwing and Luo Ji, scores of Rakshasa emerged.
Eighty-one Rakshasa, all above Nine-Step Saint King, had formed the array for the devastating strike.
Zhang Ruochen wasn’t surprised. His reputation ensured the Rakshasa wouldn’t send Bloodwing alone.
Eighty-one top-tier Saint Kings was a bold move, intent on his annihilation.
Xiao Hei appeared, grinning. “Zhang Ruochen, how’s my Void-Truth Annihilation Array? These Rakshasa are no match.”
Bloodwing’s face darkened at Xiao Hei’s taunt.
He’d prepared thoroughly, expecting Zhang Ruochen’s caution, but not this outcome.
The clash revealed Xiao Hei’s array mastery neutralized their advantage.
Still, rescuing Luo Ji fulfilled the clan gods’ orders.
“Zhang Ruochen, keep the tree for now. It’ll soon return to us,” Bloodwing sneered.
He moved to retreat with his forces, wary of Eastern City’s proximity and potential reinforcements.
“Leaving? Not so fast,” Zhang Ruochen said.
His brow glowed, and Abyss Ancient Sword flew into his hand.
A million sword rules surged, the sword tracing mystic arcs, drawing in the rules and qi within ten thousand li, unleashing profound sword intent.
Bloodwing’s space was severed by sword intent, isolated as if in another realm.
This was Sword Ten’s sixth layer, blending spatial dao—a nascent sword world.
The eighty-one Rakshasa activated their battle array, channeling evil qi into a dark red demonic mountain, crushing downward.
“Rakshasa brats, I’m your opponent. Witness a true ninth-grade array!” Xiao Hei roared.
His array roared to life, forming dozens of dragon-shaped gales, each spanning hundreds of li, capable of shredding all.
Originally thirty-six flags, Xiao Hei’s array now boasted seventy-two, doubling its might and versatility.
“Boom.”
The dragon gales, like true dragons, smashed the demonic mountain.
Bloodwing’s eyes hardened. Protecting Luo Ji, he drew a dark red war spear, infusing it with evil qi.
Hundreds of thousands of supreme inscriptions glowed, unleashing supreme power.
“Slash.”
Bloodwing thrust, a piercing blood-red edge aiming to shatter Zhang Ruochen’s sword world.
“Six Directions Slaughter,” Zhang Ruochen intoned.
Six silver sword beams struck from all directions—up, down, east, south, west, north—sealing Bloodwing’s escape.
Bloodwing shifted to defense, barely countering the beams.
“Crack.”
Space within a hundred li shattered, sword qi engulfing Bloodwing.
“Roar.”
Bloodwing bellowed, unleashing his full power.
With great effort, he broke free, bloodied and battered.
“How is Zhang Ruochen this strong?” he thought, shaken.
He knew of Zhang Ruochen’s victory over Yan Wushen but hadn’t expected such dominance.
A top Rakshasa, rivaling Ming Yao and Ming Buddha, he couldn’t withstand one strike, fueling his frustration.
Luo Ji, unharmed under Bloodwing’s protection, was equally stunned.
Having seen Zhang Ruochen fight Yan Wushen, she knew his strength had surged dramatically.
“Swordsmanship Great Completion is extraordinary,” she mused.
Few, across history, achieved Great Completion in a supreme saint path like swordsmanship at Saint King realm.
Bloodwing, without hesitation, led Luo Ji into the eighty-one Rakshasa’s battle array.
“Swish.”
The array transformed into dark red light, fleeing swiftly.
Zhang Ruochen didn’t pursue. The Rakshasa’s preparation made their escape certain, rendering chase futile.
“Sword Ten’s sixth layer is newly grasped, not yet perfected. Otherwise, Bloodwing wouldn’t have escaped,” he reflected.
Creating an unprecedented sixth layer, fusing sword and spatial dao, required further refinement.
Testing it on Bloodwing yielded satisfying results—a single strike wounding a top-tier foe was remarkable.
“Let’s go.”
Without lingering, Zhang Ruochen teleported with Luo Xu and Xiao Hei to Eastern City.
Soon after, figures appeared at Purple Lotus Mountain’s edge.
Gaping at the shattered peaks, they were awestruck.
“Zhang Ruochen’s too strong, wounding Bloodwing with one strike. Who can match him?”
“He’s truly invincible below Great Saint, surpassing Yan Wushen. While he’s in Eastern City, we’d better lay low.”
“Invincible strength, reckless style—terrifying.”
News of Purple Lotus Mountain spread, deepening fear of Zhang Ruochen.
Foreign cultivators in Eastern City grew subdued; Infernal agents vanished, dreading his attention.
Zhang Ruochen, unruffled, returned to the Saint Academy as if nothing occurred.
He handed Luo Xu a spatial orb. “The tree is transplanted inside. Please deliver it to Saint Book Talent.”
Luo Xu accepted, his eyes complex with joy and sorrow.
The tree’s return was monumental, but Chu Siyuan’s loss was irreparable.
“I’ll depart immediately,” Luo Xu said, steadying himself.
Reclaiming the tree was a Confucian milestone, requiring careful planning.
Watching Luo Xu leave, Zhang Ruochen returned to the Saint Hall at the Pilgrimage Ladder’s end, where Lei Jing awaited.
The hall’s active rules and dense qi were ideal for new saints like Lei Jing.
“Finished with Dean Luo?” Lei Jing asked.
“Yes. Now we can drink,” Zhang Ruochen said.
He summoned aged wines from the jungle world, treasures of the Xuankong Saint King, perfect for honoring Lei Jing.
Sipping, they discussed recent events.
Though brief, Zhang Ruochen’s time in Kunlun was tumultuous, thrusting him into the spotlight.
Lei Jing, having heard tales, was still shocked by Zhang Ruochen’s recounting, feeling both pride and pity.
Too weak to aid, his saint realm might be his limit.
After several jars, Lei Jing, tipsy, sighed, “Time flies. In four days, it’s the memorial for Qianshui Commandery’s fallen royals. You and Yanchen… alas.”
He regretted Zhang Ruochen and Huang Yanchen’s estrangement.
Zhang Ruochen’s heart stirred. The Vampire Clan’s massacre of Huang Yanchen’s kin, sparing only her parents, haunted him. Later, her parents fell to a Ghost Clan powerhouse, avenged by A Le.
Believing Huang Yanchen dead, he’d let go.
Yet, at Immortal Machine Mountain, she reappeared as a Destiny Temple candidate goddess, leaving him with unanswered questions.
“Master, you mentioned her last time. Can you elaborate?” Zhang Ruochen asked earnestly.
Their last talk, muddled by drink, left fragmented memories.
Lei Jing said, “Little to tell. Before vanishing, Yanchen returned to Qianshui and Yunwu Commanderies, and the Western Academy, reminiscing. I met her once. She wept, saying she’d brave Ghost Gate to change fate, muttering, ‘Through Ghost Gate, I’m reborn. Sever this life, forget joy and sorrow. If I don’t enter hell, who will?’ Odd words. I never saw her again.”
“If I don’t enter hell, who will?” Zhang Ruochen frowned, his calm heart rippling. “Ghost Gate above Baichang Star?” he murmured.
