Chapter 19: The Dragon-Slaying Sword

On the riverbank where silt had piled up, Bai Xian trudged forward, her steps sinking deep into the soft mud. She looked up and saw that the ancient stone bridge was still several dozen meters away, and the entire path ahead was nothing but this fine, yielding earth. “That old priest really knows how to assign people work,” she muttered.

After Zhang Yuheng made it clear that Bai Xian was the best person to retrieve the sword, Li Jianguo immediately asked for her help and raised the fee to 150,000 yuan. Bai Xian, whose purse was painfully empty, agreed without hesitation. She hadn’t expected, though, that to reach the underside of the bridge, she’d have to circle all the way around the river’s inlet.

She’d been walking for over half an hour and still had so far to go. But finally, from her vantage at the riverbank, Bai Xian caught sight of the “Dragon-Slaying Sword” Zhang Yuheng had spoken of. Hanging beneath the stone bridge, at the highest point of its arched curve, was a sheathed longsword suspended by a two-finger-thick iron chain. The chain was already mottled with rust, threatening to snap at any moment, but the sword it bore glimmered as if freshly forged.

Seeing no one nearby, Bai Xian murmured softly. A pair of boots appeared in her hands out of thin air. These boots, called [Waterstrider], were a reward from the Green Book after she’d slain a notorious river pirate. They looked utterly ordinary and unremarkable, but when worn, allowed the wearer to run on water.

Leaning against a massive rock at the water’s edge, Bai Xian changed into the [Waterstrider] boots, flexed her legs, then pushed off the rock, springing into the water. The surface beneath her feet turned resilient, like a taut trampoline, propelling her forward with each step.

Bai Xian spun about in delight, making several turns before the exertion left her breathless and reminded her of her purpose. Though the boots kept her from sinking, running on the pliant water sapped twice the energy as on land. She dared not linger, fixed her eyes on the stone bridge, and strode forward atop the water.

Arriving beneath the bridge, Bai Xian found herself at an impasse. The bridge’s piers were anchored in the embankments on either side, and the Dragon-Slaying Sword hung at least six or seven meters above the water—impossible to reach without tools.

“That old priest couldn’t have left me some equipment?” she grumbled.

Just then, a shout came from overhead. “Careful, young friend—catch the sword!” The voice, though aged, carried impressive strength. Who else could it be but Zhang Yuheng?

At that moment, a yellow talisman drifted down from the bridge, and as it passed beneath, it burst into flame without fire and transformed into a streak of arcane light, striking the chain that held the sword.

With a crisp clang, the weathered chain, long since weakened by the elements, broke apart.

The Dragon-Slaying Sword, now freed, fell toward the water below.

“Whatever you do, don’t let the sword separate from its scabbard, or the dragon within will unleash a flash flood!” Zhang Yuheng shouted.

Bai Xian’s face darkened—she had been set up by that old priest. But with the sword already in freefall, she had no choice. She reached out and caught it.

The moment the sword touched her hand, a blood-red haze engulfed her vision—the stream, the riverbank, the stone bridge, all faded into crimson light. Within that light, she glimpsed the massive head of a three-clawed flood dragon rising. Its immense form was concealed within the rivers and hills, stretching for miles. Though it had failed to ascend from flood dragon to true dragon, it still possessed the cultivation of fifteen centuries.

Bai Xian’s eyes swept over the dragon’s terrifying body, finally resting on its brow—where a silver-white sword, the very Dragon-Slaying Sword, was lodged.

“I am the talisman sword of Master Tanyangzi, charged with guarding this bridge. Any who would destroy it must die!” The voice came from the dragon’s mouth, but it was clear the sword itself was speaking.

Long ago, the Dragon-Slaying Sword had slain the dragon’s flesh and sealed its soul within the blade. After four hundred years, the sword’s spirit had fused with the dragon’s soul. The dragon’s spirit, influenced by the sword’s will, had lingered for a millennium, while the sword’s spirit, in turn, had grown ever more extreme.

Bai Xian steadied herself, stepped forward, and declared, “Tanyangzi may have ordered you to guard this bridge, but you have killed wantonly in his name, betraying his true intentions and tarnishing his reputation.”

The dragon’s soul seemed deaf to her rebuke, raising its massive head in the void.

“Bridge-breakers must die!”

Bai Xian’s face darkened further.

If you won’t drink the wine offered, you’ll have to swallow the penalty instead, she thought grimly.

She slung an anti-riot fork from her back, dazzling red light gathering at its tip. Every time she completed a Green Book task, not only did she earn new rewards, but her existing skills would evolve. Yet even her upgraded [Dragon’s Descent] was as feeble as a firefly competing with the moon before the dragon’s vast form.

She leveled her weapon, watching as the dragon coiled back like a venomous serpent, ready to strike.

“Old Taoist, didn’t you say getting the sword would be safe? Now look at the mess you’ve dragged me into.”

“Tanyangzi, you thought you were clever to leave the Dragon-Slaying Sword here, but did you never consider it might be corrupted by a wicked dragon’s soul?”

As Bai Xian muttered, a calm woman’s voice spoke by her ear.

“Of course I considered it…”

Startled, Bai Xian turned to see a female priest in a gray robe and Daoist topknot, holding a horsetail whisk, standing at her side. Tanyangzi’s eyes were as clear as autumn water, her voice gentle as a mountain spring, while two swirling yin-yang fish flickered behind her head, chasing and spinning in delight.

She smiled at Bai Xian. “Aren’t you here now?”

Suddenly, in the blood-red world conjured by the dragon’s illusion, a beam of white light pierced through like a rainbow across the sun, shining directly into Bai Xian’s eyes. She squinted reflexively, and the crimson world tore apart, dissipated by the white light.

The vanished bridge reappeared, the stream still flowing at her feet. She was standing on the water, holding the Dragon-Slaying Sword, half-drawn from its scabbard. The dragon’s soul, the sword spirit, the fleeting vision of the beautiful Daoist nun—all seemed as real and ephemeral as a dream.

In that dazed moment, a violent pressure surged toward her, and a beast’s plaintive cry echoed from within the sword and scabbard. The blade trembled in her grip, as if something inside was desperately trying to escape.

Bai Xian’s eyes sharpened. She gripped the hilt with her right hand, clamped the scabbard with her left, and with all her strength slammed them together.

Crack!

The scabbard struck the sword guard with a crisp snap. Instantly, the chilling light withdrew, the dragon’s roar faded, and the world returned to normal.

At that moment, the effect of [Waterstrider] vanished beneath her feet. Bai Xian had just enough time to shriek before plunging headlong into the river.

A life ring splashed into the water beside her. Clutching the Dragon-Slaying Sword in one hand and the life ring in the other, Bai Xian looked up to see Zhang Yuheng leaning over the bridge, waving at her.

“Zhang, you old fraud! I’ll get you for this!” she shouted.

On the bridge, the old priest stroked his beard and smiled, unfazed by her curses. He turned to Li Jianguo. “It’s done. You can call in the construction crew to dismantle the bridge.”

Li Jianguo, overjoyed, thanked him profusely, then fumbled for his phone to make the call. The issue with this bridge had already delayed construction for over half a year—he couldn’t afford another moment’s wait.