Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Blossoming Sword Named Linghua

Demonkind are beings beyond the Fourth Heaven, equivalent to the Masters among cultivators. For all the birds and beasts, flowers and trees of this world, to awaken spiritual intelligence is already an immense fortune. To go further and cultivate to become a true demon is a rarity among rarities.

Demons either possess extraordinary bloodlines with ancestral inheritance, encounter profound destiny and miraculous chance, or have lifespans that stretch long enough for diligent cultivation and accumulation over many years.

In the eyes of mortals, all monsters are cruel and vicious, feeding on men. Yet Qingyuan knew that those of the demonkind had already awakened spiritual intelligence; they could think, and among them, good and evil were as distinct as among humans, their natures each unique.

But there was one certainty—regardless of virtue or vice, any demon was never a simple creature.

Yet the little girl before him was simple to the point of leaving one speechless.

At that moment, the little girl continued to gaze at Qingyuan with questioning eyes.

Qingyuan found himself unsure how to respond.

"Judging by her aura, she seems on par with myself, perhaps not even having condensed her Dharma Intent."

"Could it be that she is not a demon at all? Perhaps her original form closely resembles a human... so she has not become a true demon, but with her cultivation at the Second Heaven, she’s developed a technique akin to shapeshifting, allowing her to appear human?"

With this thought, Qingyuan considered it quite possible.

Still, not all spirits can take human form.

Yet for one who can, their spiritual attainment is never shallow; they are already a demon.

"This much, Senior Brother Qingyang once told me—I shouldn’t be mistaken."

Suddenly, images of Gu Cang and that parrot flashed through his mind. By rights, only demons could refine the Transverse Bone, but Gu Cang was an exception, and so was that parrot. Why, then, could this little girl not be an exception as well?

Now, as heaven and earth are newly formed and the Great Dao is without order, it is the very age when gods are to be named and ordained; everything is unpredictable, all rules and order must be rewritten.

Thus, the appearance of unprecedented beings and events is not impossible to accept.

Perhaps, these are the precedents that later generations will look back upon.

He exhaled softly. Though he could not rule out that the little girl was a demon in human form, the heaviness in his heart lessened somewhat.

Qingyuan weighed his words, pondering for a long time, just as he was about to speak.

At that moment, the little girl bit her lip and said, "If you don't say anything, I'll take it that what you want to say is good, all right?"

Apparently, she too had grown impatient with the wait.

As her words fell, a flower slipped from her sleeve.

The blossom had five petals: blue petals, white stamens, and a green stem.

She gripped the stem and flicked it through the air. The five blue petals curled inward, and the stamen thrust forward.

In an instant, the petals closed, and from their center extended a white sword blade formed from the stamen.

The flower had transformed into a longsword.

She blinked, as if recalling something, then made a gesture like a swordsman and announced, "This is the Linghua Sword my mother gave me."

Qingyuan sensed she was mimicking someone, but the thought lasted only a moment before he raised his iron staff before his chest.

"If it cannot be avoided, then let us have a contest," he thought.

If she were a demon, escape would be impossible.

If not, and her cultivation matched his own, what was there to fear?

"Here I come!"

The little girl leapt lightly, tapping her foot on the river's surface for momentum.

In midair, she became a streak of blue and white light.

Her sword thrust straight toward him.

Qingyuan stood firm, lifting his iron staff to meet the floral sword, striking it and forcing the girl back.

With that brief exchange, Qingyuan realized the girl's body was light as air, like a breeze itself, as if weightless.

A breeze swept by.

A sweet fragrance filled his nose.

His mind suddenly clouded, vision growing hazy.

"June’s Clarity!"

At once, Qingyuan visualized the Ninefold Jade Pavilion, guarding his consciousness, and clarity returned at once.

He bent his knees, ready to leap forward.

But as he jumped, a sudden pain shot through his foot.

Startled, he looked down to find a green vine coiled around his ankle, covered in barbs that had pierced through his shoe and into his flesh.

"Be careful now."

The little girl took a deep breath, her small chest puffing out, and blew forward.

Fragrant wind gusted—sweet as flowers.

All about, grass sprouted thickly and vines spread everywhere.

"What is this..." Qingyuan gasped, astonished.

Such a technique nearly approached the level of Dharma Intent—yet when he’d crossed swords, her skill, though remarkable, seemed within the Second Heaven's bounds.

No time for surprise; thorny vines lunged at him like serpents, their barbs sharp as fangs.

Flowers and grass grew dense, nearly trapping him.

Qingyuan pulled out a fire talisman from his robe, pinching it. Only about twenty remained—he cursed his misfortune but acted swiftly, tossing more than ten forth.

Flames scattered among the undergrowth.

Though the plants weren’t dry enough to ignite easily, thick smoke billowed, cloaking his figure.

Enveloped in darkness, Qingyuan found a strange tranquility, swinging his iron staff and severing even the toughest vines and grass.

The fire talismans burned the surrounding flora. Breaking free of his bindings, he escaped.

He leapt up, lunging at the little girl.

Panic flashed across her small face, and she thrust her sword toward him.

There was a resounding clash in midair.

After crossing swords, Qingyuan was forced back, flipping to land on his feet, eyes full of surprise.

The Linghua Sword was a flower sword, its stem slender and seemingly fragile. Qingyuan had struck with all his might, certain the stem would break—yet to his astonishment, the sword was formidable, nearly a spiritual artifact, utterly unharmed.

Looking closer, the floral sword seemed even alive, as if still growing.

Just as Qingyuan marveled, the little girl stepped back, dipped her hand into the water.

The stream was icy; her hand, white as snow, shimmered with a pale radiance beneath the surface.

"Water flows east, flowers arise together," she murmured softly.

A blaze of color—green and red intertwined—spread across the river, blossoming outward.

Flowers and grasses filled the river, endlessly proliferating.

Such a technique truly neared the level of Dharma Intent, rivaling the powers of demonkind.

Witnessing such near-demonic skill, Qingyuan was stunned for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. Heart pounding, he hurled several fire talismans without hesitation.

He dared not let the little girl complete her conjuring.

Who knew what formidable power she might unleash next?

"Ah... fire..."

The little girl cried out in alarm, retreating.

Flames struck the flowers and vines she had conjured.

Smoke rose thickly from the river’s verdant surface.

Qingyuan waved his hand, affixing talisman paper to a wooden carving, channeling his energy before tossing it forth.

Seven tiger-wolves appeared, halting at the riverbank, staring across at the little girl.

"You..."

She bit her lower lip, seeming aggrieved. After a moment, she finally turned away, leapt lightly—like a breeze—and vanished among the trees behind her.

Qingyuan leapt forward, crossing the river.

He meant to give chase but found the girl too strange, and so stopped, not daring to act rashly.

After a moment's thought, he finally put away his iron staff, recalled the seven tiger-wolves, and hurriedly left the place.