In the fantastical tales of divine beings and strange phenomena, those ascetic sages who endure arduous cultivation are often described with the phrase “ranked among the celestial cohort,” signifying their rightful place in the heavens. At its core, this is no different from mortal scholars leaping through the Dragon Gate, earning titles and positions in the imperial court. The celestial figures gathered before the gates of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau were clearly not of this world, leaving the Li family’s armored soldiers utterly awestruck. Living under the emperor’s shadow, one could witness all manner of bizarre people and events—such as Jiang Ni’s legendary flight across eighteen gates with a single sword, witnessed by many in the capital. Yet, even Jiang Ni’s grace could only be faintly praised as resembling an exiled immortal. True immortals? This was the first time they had been seen, and now, dozens of them clad in Daoist robes appeared all at once, overwhelming the senses. The Li family soldiers dared not even breathe, their eyes wide as they strained to take in the figures, tall and short, standing before them.
Fate brings enemies together.
The “young” immortal at the center held the talisman sword *Yu Lei*, a Daoist treasure as renowned as the *Shen Tu* wielded by the Wudang sword fanatic Wang Xiaoping. Yet, due to its rarity, it had long been enshrined within the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, fading from public memory while *Shen Tu* remained famous. Wudang Mountain, however, had no habit of hoarding treasures—even the legacy sword of Patriarch Lü was casually hung from an eave. When Qi Xianxia once stormed Wudang, he merely glanced at the sword, and the young sect leader Hong Xixiang offered to lend it without hesitation, leaving Qi Xianxia too stunned to accept. Wudang and Longhu Mountain, though both sacred Daoist sites, followed vastly different paths of cultivation. The latter sought ascension step by step, while the former, over the past century, saw its leaders—from Huang Manshan and Wang Zhonglou to Hong Xixiang and Li Yufu—walking among mortals, never indulging in the trappings of celestial nobility.
The sword-wielding immortal bore an uncanny resemblance to Longhu Mountain’s current sect leader, Zhao Ningshen, though his aura was far more imposing—like a perfectly carved imperial seal, surrounded by fleeting golden talismans.
Years ago, by the Spring God Lake, Zhao Ningshen had summoned this very ancestor, though the immortal’s features had been indistinct then. When the Northern Liang heir summoned the even more majestic apparition of the True Martial Emperor, Zhao Ningshen’s invocation was shattered. Few beyond Longhu’s inner circle knew which ancestor he had called upon.
Unlike the three other Longhu immortals, who radiated hostility, the sword-wielding immortal gazed at the young prince with complex emotions, his expression calm. Ignoring the golden-armored celestial charging at Xu Fengnian, he spoke slowly: “You and your father, the Xu family, truly never rest.”
Meanwhile, the golden-armored warrior, possessed by an immortal, galloped forth. At fifty paces, he reached into the air and summoned a golden spear wreathed in purple lightning, its shaft inscribed with intricate Daoist cloud patterns.
With a thunderous cry, he thrust the spear at Xu Fengnian’s head.
Xu Fengnian didn’t turn. Leaning back slightly, he evaded the strike and casually caught the spear mid-air. Lightning crackled around his fingers, his entire arm bathed in radiant golden-purple light.
The immortal’s steed halted abruptly, unable to advance. Attempting to swing the spear and crush the mortal’s skull, the immortal found the weapon immovable, his golden armor trembling from the backlash.
Xu Fengnian tightened his grip. With a deafening crack, the spear shattered in his hand.
The golden radiance dimmed. “Audacious!” the immortal roared.
Xu Fengnian finally turned, meeting the celestial’s gaze with a faint smirk.
Since you’ve descended, you might as well dismount.
Yanking the broken spear to the side, Xu Fengnian dragged the immortal from his horse. Realizing his peril, the immortal released the spear and raised a hand as if to summon something to crush this insolent mortal.
Sure enough, a thunderous Daoist seal—resembling the legendary *Thunder Bureau’s Treasure Seal*—materialized above his palm. “Heavenly Thunder Strikes!” he intoned, slamming it down toward Xu Fengnian’s head.
Xu Fengnian, wielding his left-handed saber, barely moved—only tilting the blade’s tip upward slightly.
The three immortals at the bureau’s gates—one holding *Yu Lei*, one crowned with lotus, one astride a white deer—all tensed. The lotus-crowned immortal sighed; the deer-rider nearly intervened.
Xu Fengnian’s move was none other than Gu Jianqiong’s signature technique: *Inch Thunder*.
Gu Jianqiong had rarely used it in the past decade—once against Cao Changqing when he and Jiang Ni entered the imperial palace, and again when Jiang Fuding provoked Xu Fengnian in Liang. Now, Xu Fengnian wielded it with far greater mastery than Jiang Fuding ever had.
The golden immortal, mid-strike, was blasted skyward as if struck by lightning, his seal dissipating into nothingness.
Xu Fengnian’s sleeves fluttered as he soared, twisting mid-air with effortless grace.
Appearing above the stunned immortal, he extended a palm—not to summon a seal, but to deliver a simple, devastating strike.
An ancient verse spoke of immortals bestowing longevity with a touch to the crown.
Today, the white-robed prince did the unthinkable.
*I* touch the immortal’s crown.
And sever his longevity.
The golden immortal had no time to react. The overwhelming force of the strike sent him crashing into the street, his radiance fading rapidly.
By the time he struck the ground, leaving a crater, only his golden eyes remained of his celestial form. The mortal host lay dying, blood seeping from every orifice.
Xu Fengnian stood impassively at the crater’s edge, gazing down. Mortal bodies could not bear celestial possession—only those at the Diamond or Heavenly Phenomena realms might survive.
Unlike ordinary martial artists, Daoist masters often reached the Finger Mystery realm upon entering the first rank, much like Buddhist monks attained Diamond. Yet, pure martial artists like Han Shengxuan or Xuan Yuan Dapan could effortlessly slay multiple peers of equal rank. Each path had its trade-offs.
The rider exhaled his last.
A streak of white light erupted from the crater, soaring skyward.
*I descend from heaven, I return to heaven.*
*What can mortals do?*
Unfortunately, it met Xu Fengnian—slayer of celestials and dragons.
Years ago, the Daoist master Zhao Xuansu, disguised as a child, nearly killed Xu Fengnian before being skewered by Deng Tai’a’s flying swords. Even in death, he left a venomous curse.
If even Zhao Xuansu, a hair’s breadth from immortality, couldn’t escape Deng Tai’a, how could this Longhu immortal, bound by celestial constraints, hope to match Xu Fengnian at his peak?
Before Xu Fengnian could intercept, the immortals at the bureau’s gates erupted in fury. The sword-wielding immortal beside Zhao Xiyi vanished with a thunderous “How dare you?!”
Moments later, the ascending white light was severed mid-air by another *Inch Thunder*, scattering into oblivion.
Nearby, the charging cavalry, overwhelmed by the spectacle, retreated hastily. Even the mightiest warriors dared not interfere in a battle of gods.
Before Xu Fengnian, a downpour of purple-gold swords rained from the sky, followed by an immortal astride a massive flying sword, fingers clasped in incantation.
Xu Fengnian stepped forward, knees slightly bent, left saber raised toward the immortal, right fingers pressed to the blade. “Break Formation,” he murmured.
No grand swordplay, no divine chants—just a simple stance and two words.
A green dragon of energy tore through the sword rain, slamming into the celestial.
The immortal’s face paled. A jade *hu*—a ceremonial tablet—materialized before him.
In the Great Feng dynasty, *hu* were symbols of rank: jade for the emperor, ivory for nobles, bamboo for scholars. Daoist masters granted the title of “True Person” were permitted jade *hu*. Only eight such titles were ever bestowed—seven to Wudang, one to Longhu’s Zhao Zhengzhen, the legendary *Dongxu True Person* who ascended atop sword and *hu*.
This immortal was none other than Zhao Zhengzhen.
The jade *hu* shattered upon impact, the green dragon piercing through the immortal’s form and vanishing into the sky.
The celestial’s fate mirrored the golden-armored one’s.
*True Persons* were not truly immortal.
The sword rain dissipated, leaving the world clear once more.
Two immortals, annihilated in moments.
Xu Fengnian flicked his fingers, reducing them to dust.
The remaining immortals exchanged glances—not in fear, but rage.
Over thirty surged forth as one.
Xu Fengnian chuckled. “Numbers mean nothing. I’ve faced mobs before—three journeys through the jianghu weren’t for nothing.”
Sheathing his saber, he spread his arms and raised them abruptly.
*Rise!*
In the second year of Xiangfu, the capital was showered with swords.
Before winter even arrived, it happened again.
The first rain, harmless, had secretly gathered near the bureau.
This time, the blades surged upward—to slay immortals.
The thirty-plus celestials vanished into the storm, as if stepping into a minefield.
The young prince mused aloud, “A skilled performance… but nothing to reward.”
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