The elders were furious,” said Qilian, the master of Xiulinxia, solemnly. “The Nine Elder Stewards are extremely enraged. The four dragons, subdued at such a great cost by the Senate, were actually released by Yang Hao.”
He spoke these words at what would become the most oppressive meeting in the history of the Ten Sword Sects.
The meeting was secretly convened in Xiulinxia, one of the four great guardians under the Elder Mountain. The leaders of all ten sword sects were almost all present. Only the Starlight Circus was still on a secret mission in the outer territories and could not return in time, while the leader of the Beastheart Sword Sect, Bista, had been imprisoned after his sect was destroyed.
At this meeting, there was a significant reshuffling of the seating arrangements among the Ten Sword Sects. Previously, the Wang Clan, the Murk Assassin Clan, and the Blackwind Sword Sect had occupied the upper seats, but due to the loss of their sacred swords, their power had greatly diminished, forcing them to sit at the bottom. The four sects that still retained their sacred swords—Xiulinxia, the Yan Clan, Illusion Feather Sect, and Divine Absolution Sect—now dominated the Ten Sword Sects.
The atmosphere was extremely heavy. Since the founding of the Ten Sword Sects, there had never been such a severe setback. Within a single year, five sacred swords had been lost, and multiple sword sects had suffered devastating blows. And their opponent was merely a young upstart.
“What decision have the elders made?” asked Hai Wanggong, the head of the Wang Clan. Since all the clan leaders were themselves elders, he naturally referred to the decision of the Steward Elders.
In the Galactic Empire, private cultivation was absolutely forbidden; only the forces directly under the Senate were permitted to cultivate. Ordinary elders were at the same level as Sword Saints, while the Steward Elders were said to approach the power of loose immortals. Therefore, if the Steward Elders were willing to act, killing Yang Hao would be as easy as picking something from a bag.
“The Elders are furious,” said the master of the Cultivator’s Grove, Qilian Cultivator, solemnly. “The nine Grand Steward Elders are extremely angry. The four dragons that the Elder Council spent such a great price to tame were actually released by Yang Hao.”
He spoke these words during the most oppressive meeting in the history of the Ten Sword Sects.
This meeting was secretly convened at the Cultivator’s Grove, one of the four major strongholds guarding the Elder Mountain. The leaders of the ten sword sects had almost all arrived. Only the Starry Circus, which had been on a secret mission in the outer regions, failed to return in time, while the leader of the Beastheart Sword Sect, Bista, had been imprisoned after his sect was annihilated.
At this meeting, the seating arrangements of the Ten Sword Sects underwent a major reshuffle. The Wang Clan, the Nether Assassins, and the Blackwind Sword Sect, which had previously held the highest seats, had all suffered significant losses in power due to the loss of their sacred swords and were forced to take the lowest seats. The four sects that still retained their sacred swords—the Cultivator’s Grove, the Yan Clan, the Illusory Feather Sect, and the Divine Mercy Sword Sect—now dominated the Ten Sword Sects.
The atmosphere was suffocating. Since its founding, the Ten Sword Sects had never faced such a devastating setback. In just one year, five sacred swords had been lost, multiple sword sects had suffered catastrophic blows, and their opponent was merely a newly emerged young man.
“What do the Elders plan to do?” asked Lord Haiwang of the Wang Clan. Since the clan leaders here were themselves Elders, he was naturally inquiring about the decision of the Grand Steward Elders.
In the Galactic Empire, private cultivation was strictly forbidden. Only the forces directly under the Elder Council were permitted to cultivate. Ordinary Elders were on par with Sword Saints in strength, while the Grand Steward Elders were said to approach the level of loose immortals. Thus, if the Grand Steward Elders were willing to act, killing Yang Hao would be as easy as plucking something from a bag.
Qilian Cultivator sighed slightly. The old man had a serene face, with a long beard that fluttered in the wind, giving him the aura of an enlightened master. He replied to Lord Haiwang, “The Grand Steward Elders seem to have some reservations, possibly related to the Supreme One. They likely won’t intervene.”
The “Supreme One” they referred to was naturally the leader of the Elder Council, the highest-ranking immortal in the Galactic Empire—Yang Hao and Hunyuanzi’s sworn enemy.
“There’s no need for the Grand Steward Elders to act,” said the newly appointed leader of the Nether Assassins, his face obscured by black robes. “Among the leaders of the sword sects here, at least five are Elders, while Yang Hao is only at the level of a Grand Sword Master. Any one of us could take his life.”
“No!” At least three Elders shouted simultaneously.
Qilian Cultivator frowned slightly. The Nether Assassins were known for their calm and ruthless demeanor, so why was their new leader so reckless? “Yang Hao may appear to be only at the level of a Grand Sword Master, but his power surges rapidly when he draws his sword, and his cultivation path is beyond our understanding. Moreover, the nine Grand Steward Elders have confirmed that the five rings on Yang Hao’s hands are divine artifacts, sealing the power of ancient gods. If unleashed, they would likely be beyond our ability to handle.”
“If this won’t work and that won’t work, are we just going to let him go?” the Nether Assassin leader sneered. “Yang Hao has already taken five sacred swords and openly established the Alchemy Sword Sect. It won’t be long before the other five swords fall into his hands as well. The Ten Sword Sects might as well disband and merge into his Alchemy Sword Sect.”
“Such childish talk!” Lord Haiwang struck his cane on the ground. Though he had lost influence, his authority remained. “No matter how powerful Yang Hao is, he’s still just a man. And men have weaknesses. What is there to fear?”
“The real question is whether we should kill him,” Qilian Cultivator said, discussing murder as calmly as if it were an ordinary matter. “The Grand Steward Elders’ stance is not to kill, but as for us…”
“Kill!” The Nether Assassin leader slammed the table.
“Kill!” the Light Sword Sect roared in unison.
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
Seven sect leaders voiced their agreement. Lord Haiwang concluded, “Regardless of what the Grand Steward Elders think, the ten sacred swords were personally bestowed upon us by the Supreme One. If we lose them and the Supreme One holds us accountable in the future, none of us will escape punishment. So we must kill him—we must reclaim the sacred swords.”
“How do we kill him?” Qilian Cultivator asked.
This question plunged the sect leaders into silence once more. Yang Hao’s personal strength was not the real concern, but his ghostly Shadowmoon Blade and the five divine rings were no joke. The memory of Yang Hao defeating the Beastheart Sword Sect in a single move and incinerating all the demonic beasts in the arena still sent shivers down their spines.
“Even if we can’t kill him directly, we can at least target those close to him,” said the leader of the Divine Mercy Sword Sect, showing no mercy whatsoever. “We capture his closest companions and force him to surrender the sacred swords.”
“Isn’t that too despicable?” Qilian Cultivator remarked coolly.
“Assassination,” came a woman’s voice. Female Elders were rare in the Elder Council, and this veiled beauty exuded an air of mystery and solemnity. She was the leader of the Illusory Feather Sect, the only sect in the Ten Sword Sects composed entirely of women.
“Assassination?” The Nether Assassins scoffed. “If we can’t assassinate him, who can? In this field, Yang Hao’s assassination skills likely far surpass ours. His sword can turn invisible—can any of ours do that?”
“The only solution is to send her,” the Illusory Feather Sect leader said icily.
“Her?”
“Her?”
The sect leaders thought of someone and collectively gasped. “Has it come to this? Must we really deploy her?”
The Illusory Feather Sect leader tapped the table lightly with her slender fingers. “What we face now is an unprecedented crisis. The Ten Sword Sects could be uprooted entirely. If we don’t use the ‘Enchantress’ now, when will we?”
The others fell silent. The crisis they faced was indeed that dire.
But deploying the “Enchantress” was a terrifying prospect. The “Enchantress” project was the longest-running and most secretive plan in the history of the Ten Sword Sects—and even the Elder Council. The “Enchantress” was a woman of mysterious identity, trained meticulously by the Elder Council for over twenty years for a covert mission. Once the Enchantress acted, there was no one she couldn’t eliminate.
However, according to the plan, the “Enchantress” was meant to target high-ranking officials like the Empire’s Chief Minister. Did Yang Hao really warrant the use of this hidden trump card?
Qilian Cultivator stroked his beard, lost in thought.
Suddenly, a fierce glint flashed in his eyes. “We’ll strike from both sides. This time, that upstart Yang Hao must die!”
And so, the decision was made.
Shortly after the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting concluded, a streak of black light teleported into the imperial palace of the capital.
Amid the grand architecture of stone walls and golden tiles stood a ten-meter-tall black hall, forged from crude iron, standing tall and unyielding in the cold wind like the empire’s mighty soldiers.
Even those who rarely entered the imperial palace knew that this conspicuous building was the daily workplace of a pivotal figure in the Galactic Empire.
This man was named Taifeng, and his title was simple: Commander of the Imperial Guard.
The position of Imperial Guard Commander was not as prestigious as that of the Chief Minister of the Privy Council, who commanded millions of troops and countless warships, making him the foremost military official in the empire.
But the Imperial Guard had always held a special status. They were the trusted force safeguarding the imperial family. Though they lacked warships or artillery, they possessed absolute loyalty and unfathomable combat prowess.
It was widely known that the Galactic Empire had three Sword Saints—three peerless masters independent of the Elder Council. But few knew that all three originated from the Imperial Guard system and had only revealed themselves to instruct the imperial family in martial arts. As for how many more figures like the three Sword Saints existed within the Imperial Guard, that remained a closely guarded secret.
Take Taifeng, for example. At over seventy years old, he had served as Imperial Guard Commander for thirty years, yet no one had ever seen him fight. Even the most astute Elders of the Heavenly Strategy Sect couldn’t discern the depths of his power.
Taifeng always wore a black robe, specially permitted by imperial decree to bear the royal insignia, allowing him to stand in the emperor’s presence without kneeling and granting him emergency decision-making authority. In terms of power, Taifeng was on par with any Chief Minister, yet historical records contained not a single word from him on state affairs. He was the shadow of the imperial family, forever lurking in the darkness to protect their safety.
The black figure that emerged from the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting entered Taifeng’s black hall.
Inside, the hall was as dark as ever, with only Taifeng standing beside his massive desk, examining a large map under a special white fluorescent light. The map was a flat projection of Earth, marked with various colored indicators denoting the armed forces of different factions. The entire planet was densely covered, with few blank spaces.
“Master,” the black figure knelt halfway and looked up. It was none other than the newly appointed, hot-tempered leader of the Nether Assassins from the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting.
“Xiao San, you’ve arrived,” Taifeng said without looking up. “Rise.”
“Yes.” The man called Xiao San stood and remained silent, head bowed.
Taifeng studied the map intently, patiently erasing a few markers—indicating that within days, the noble or merchant forces in those areas would be utterly annihilated.
The Imperial Guard’s duty was to suppress threats to the capital and Earth below a critical threshold.
“The meeting is over?” Taifeng finally looked up and asked with a smile.
“It is,” Xiao San replied solemnly, his delicate features making his age hard to discern.
“After ten years of infiltration, you finally got to attend a meeting,” Taifeng said approvingly. “Xiao San, you’ve endured much these past ten years.”
This man, Xiao San, was a mole planted by the Imperial Guard into the Nether Assassins a decade ago. As the emperor’s tool for maintaining control, the Imperial Guard’s intelligence network was unparalleled. For a mole to rise to the position of a Ten Sword Sects leader spoke volumes about Taifeng’s intricate planning.
“They’ve decided to kill Yang Hao,” Xiao San reported.
“Hmm.” Taifeng nodded—this was expected. “Yang Hao has made too many enemies and pushed the Ten Sword Sects to the brink. Killing him is justified.”
“They even plan to deploy the ‘Enchantress.'”
“Oh?” Even Taifeng was taken aback. He sighed, then chuckled. “I thought they were saving the ‘Enchantress’ for me. These old men are losing their patience.”
Xiao San lowered his head. “I’ve failed. I still don’t know who the Enchantress is.”
“Don’t blame yourself. The Elder Council’s greatest secret in twenty years wouldn’t be revealed to you.” Taifeng clasped his hands within his sleeves, deep in thought.
After a long pause, Xiao San hesitantly asked, “Master, do you think Yang Hao will die?”
Taifeng smirked coldly. “With the Enchantress involved, how could he not?”
“In that case, should we lend the Ten Sword Sects a hand?” Xiao San schemed. “Since Yang Hao is doomed anyway, it’s an easy favor…”
Taifeng smiled faintly and changed the subject. “Xiao San, who do you think the empire belongs to?”
Xiao San was taken aback but quickly answered, “Naturally, it belongs to His Majesty the Emperor. The billions of people and countless planets of the Galactic Empire are all His Majesty’s.”
“Wrong.” Taifeng spoke treasonous words without hesitation. “The Galactic Empire does not belong to the emperor—it belongs to the Elder Council. Those billions of people are merely slaves mining resources for the Elder Council, and those countless planets are just territories under their control.”
Xiao San understood. This trusted minister of the emperor believed the Elder Council’s power had grown too great, even surpassing the emperor’s. Since the empire’s founding, the Elder Council had seemingly stood above all government institutions. In recent decades, the emperor had tried to counterbalance them with the Privy Council, but to little effect. The Elder Council’s influence remained overwhelming, and they no longer regarded the emperor with respect.
“It’s time someone weakened those old men’s power,” Taifeng said with a smile.
“But Yang Hao won’t last long. He’ll die soon,” Xiao San said, shuddering at the thought of the Enchantress in action.
“That depends on fate and his own fortune.” Taifeng sighed and gazed deeper into the black hall, where the darkness seemed endless.
And so it was with human destiny—ever extending, with no one knowing what the future held.
After defeating the Beastheart Sword Sect, Yang Hao enjoyed a period of relative calm.
“Relative calm,” of course, was by Yang Hao’s standards. Over the past month, he had spent his days training and helping the members of the Hao Sword Sect break through to the Ethereal Realm. After incinerating hundreds of demonic beasts in the arena, Yang Hao naturally collected their inner cores, which he used to help his disciples advance. Now, all of them had reached the Ethereal Realm, and combined with the Wounded Sword Formation, their combat prowess was formidable.
For the Alchemy Sword Sect and the Alchemy Corporation, however, this was a time of rapid expansion. Yang Hao’s reputation was at its peak. After his awe-inspiring performance in the arena, where he single-handedly annihilated an entire sword sect, nobles across the empire hailed him as the leader of the greatest sword sect in the world. As a result, enrollment in the Alchemy Sword Sect surged, and imperial coins flowed steadily into Yang Hao’s coffers.
“The Elders are furious,” said the master of the Cultivator’s Grove, Qilian Cultivator, solemnly. “The nine Grand Steward Elders are extremely angry. The four dragons that the Elder Council spent such a great price to tame were actually released by Yang Hao.”
He spoke these words at what was perhaps the most oppressive meeting in the history of the Ten Sword Sects.
This meeting was secretly convened at the Cultivator’s Grove, one of the four major strongholds guarding the Elder Mountain. The leaders of the ten sword sects had almost all arrived. Only the Star Circus, which had been on a secret mission in the outer regions, failed to return in time, while the leader of the Beastheart Sword Sect, Bista, had been imprisoned due to the annihilation of his sect.
At this meeting, the seating arrangements of the Ten Sword Sects underwent a major reshuffle. The Wang Clan, the Netherkill Assassination Group, and the Blackwind Sword Sect, which had previously held the highest seats, had all suffered significant losses in power due to the loss of their sect’s divine swords and were forced to take the lowest seats. The four sects that still retained their divine swords—the Cultivator’s Grove, the Yan Clan, the Illusory Feather Sect, and the Divine Mercy Sword Sect—now dominated the Ten Sword Sects.
The atmosphere was suffocating. Since its founding, the Ten Sword Sects had never faced such a massive setback. In just one year, five divine swords had been lost, multiple sword sects had suffered devastating blows, and their opponent was merely a newly emerged young man.
“What have the Elders decided to do?” asked the head of the Wang Clan, Lord Haiwang. Since all the clan heads here were Elders themselves, he was naturally inquiring about the decision of the Grand Steward Elders.
In the Galactic Empire, private cultivation was strictly forbidden. Only forces directly under the Elder Council were permitted to cultivate. Ordinary Elders were on par with Sword Saints in strength, while the Grand Steward Elders were said to approach the level of loose immortals. Thus, if the Grand Steward Elders were willing to act, killing Yang Hao would be as easy as reaching into a bag to retrieve something.
Qilian Cultivator sighed slightly. This elder had a serene countenance, with long flowing whiskers, exuding the aura of a transcendent master. He replied to Lord Haiwang, “The Grand Steward Elders seem to have some reservations, possibly related to the Supreme One. They likely will not intervene.”
The “Supreme One” they referred to was naturally the leader of the Elder Council, the highest-ranking immortal in the Galactic Empire—Yang Hao and Hunyuanzi’s mortal enemy.
“There’s no need for the Grand Steward Elders to act,” said the new leader of the Netherkill Assassination Group, shrouded in black robes, his face indistinct. “Among the leaders of the sword sects here, at least five are Elders, while Yang Hao is only at the level of a Grand Sword Master. Any one of us could easily take his life.”
“No!” At least three Elders shouted simultaneously.
Qilian Cultivator frowned slightly. The Netherkill Assassination Group had always been known for its calm and ruthless demeanor—how had their new leader become so reckless? “Yang Hao may appear to be only at the level of a Grand Sword Master, but his power surges rapidly when he draws his sword, and his cultivation path is beyond our understanding. Moreover, the nine Grand Steward Elders have confirmed that the five rings on Yang Hao’s hands are divine artifacts, sealing the power of ancient gods. If unleashed, they may be beyond our ability to counter.”
“If this won’t work and that won’t work, are we just going to let him go?” the Netherkill leader sneered. “Yang Hao has already seized five divine swords and openly established the Alchemy Sword Sect. It won’t be long before the remaining five swords fall into his hands as well. The Ten Sword Sects might as well disband and merge into his Alchemy Sword Sect.”
“Such childish talk!” Lord Haiwang struck his cane on the ground. Though he had lost influence, his authority still carried weight. “No matter how formidable Yang Hao is, he is still just a man. And men have weaknesses—what is there to fear?”
“The real question is whether or not to kill him,” Qilian Cultivator said, discussing murder with ease and composure. “The Grand Steward Elders’ stance is not to kill, but as for us…”
“Kill!” The Netherkill leader slammed the table.
“Kill!” the Light Sword Sect roared in unison.
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
Seven sect leaders voiced their agreement. Lord Haiwang concluded, “Regardless of what the Grand Steward Elders think, the ten divine swords were personally bestowed upon us by the Supreme One. If we lose them and the Supreme One holds us accountable in the future, none of us will escape punishment. So we must kill him—we must reclaim the divine swords.”
“How do we kill him?” Qilian Cultivator asked.
This question plunged the sect leaders into silence once more. Yang Hao’s personal strength was not the real threat, but his ghostly Shadowmoon Blade and the five divine rings were no joke. The memory of Yang Hao defeating the Beastheart Sword Sect in a single move and incinerating all the magical beasts in the arena still sent shivers down their spines.
“Even if we can’t kill him directly, we can still target those close to him,” said the leader of the Divine Mercy Sword Sect, showing no mercy whatsoever. “We capture his closest companions and force him to surrender the divine swords.”
“Isn’t that too despicable?” Qilian Cultivator remarked lightly.
“Assassination,” came a woman’s voice. Female Elders were rare in the Elder Council, and this veiled woman, the leader of the Illusory Feather Sect—the only female-dominated sect among the Ten Sword Sects—exuded an air of mystery and solemnity.
“Assassination?” The Netherkill members scoffed. “If even we can’t assassinate him, who can? In this field, Yang Hao’s assassination skills likely far surpass ours. His sword can turn invisible—can any of ours do that?”
“The only solution is to send her,” the Illusory Feather Sect leader said coldly.
“Her?”
“Her?”
The sect leaders thought of someone simultaneously, gasping in shock. “Has it come to this? Must we really deploy her?”
The Illusory Feather Sect leader tapped the table lightly with her slender fingers. “What we face now is an unprecedented crisis. The Ten Sword Sects could be uprooted entirely. If not now, when should we deploy the ‘Enchantress’?”
The others fell silent. The crisis they faced was indeed that dire.
But deploying the “Enchantress” was a terrifying prospect. The “Enchantress” project was the longest-running and most secretive plan in the history of the Ten Sword Sects—and even the Elder Council. The “Enchantress” was a woman of mysterious identity, trained meticulously by the Elder Council for over twenty years for a covert mission. Once the Enchantress acted, there was no one she could not eliminate.
However, according to the plan, the “Enchantress” was meant to target high-ranking officials like the Empire’s Chief Minister. Did Yang Hao really warrant the use of this hidden trump card?
Qilian Cultivator stroked his beard, lost in thought.
Suddenly, a fierce glint flashed in his eyes. “We strike from two fronts. This time, Yang Hao must die!”
With that, the decision was made.
Shortly after the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting concluded, a streak of black light flashed into the imperial city via a teleportation device.
Amidst the grand architecture of golden roofs and stone walls stood a ten-meter-tall black hall, forged from crude iron, standing tall and unyielding in the cold wind like the empire’s mighty soldiers.
Even those who rarely entered the imperial city knew that this conspicuous building was the daily workplace of a pivotal figure in the Galactic Empire.
This man was named Qin Feng, and his title was simple: Commander of the Imperial Guard.
The position of Imperial Guard Commander was, of course, not as prestigious as that of the Chief Minister of the Privy Council, who commanded millions of troops and countless warships, making him the foremost military official in the empire.
But the Imperial Guard had always held a special status. They were the trusted force safeguarding the imperial family. Though they lacked warships and artillery, they possessed absolute loyalty and unfathomable combat prowess.
It was widely known that the Galactic Empire had three Sword Saints—three peerless masters independent of the Elder Council. But few knew that all three had emerged from the Imperial Guard system, revealing themselves only to instruct the imperial family in martial arts. How many more such figures existed within the Imperial Guard remained a closely guarded secret.
Take Qin Feng, for example. At over seventy years old, he had served as Imperial Guard Commander for thirty years, yet no one had ever seen him fight. Even the most astute Elders of the Celestial Strategy Sect could not discern the depths of his power.
Qin Feng always wore a black robe, specially permitted by imperial decree to bear the royal insignia, exempting him from kneeling before the emperor and granting him autonomous authority in emergencies. In terms of power, Qin Feng was no less than any Chief Minister. Yet, in the empire’s history, not a single word from Qin Feng regarding state affairs had ever been recorded. He was a shadow of the imperial family, forever lurking in the darkness to protect their safety.
The black figure that emerged from the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting entered Qin Feng’s black hall.
The hall was as dark as ever, with only Qin Feng standing beside his massive desk, studying a large map under the glow of a special white fluorescent lamp. The map was a detailed layout of Earth, marked with various colored notations indicating the armed forces of different factions. The entire planet was densely covered, with few areas left unmarked.
“Master,” the black figure knelt halfway and looked up. It was none other than the impulsive new leader of the Netherkill Assassination Group from the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting.
“Xiao San, you’ve arrived,” Qin Feng said without looking up. “Rise.”
“Yes.” The man called Xiao San stood and remained silent, head bowed.
Qin Feng scrutinized the map, patiently erasing a few marks—indicating that within days, these locations, whether noble strongholds or merchant forces, would be utterly annihilated.
The Imperial Guard’s duty was to suppress threats to the capital and Earth below a critical threshold.
“The meeting is over?” Qin Feng finally looked up and asked with a smile.
“It is,” Xiao San replied solemnly, his delicate, almost feminine features making his age hard to discern.
“After ten years of infiltration, you finally attended a meeting,” Qin Feng said approvingly. “Xiao San, you’ve endured much these ten years.”
This man, Xiao San, was a mole planted by the Imperial Guard into the Netherkill Assassination Group a decade ago. As the emperor’s tool for maintaining control, the Imperial Guard’s intelligence network was unparalleled. That a mole could rise to lead one of the Ten Sword Sects spoke volumes about Qin Feng’s intricate machinations.
“They’ve decided to kill Yang Hao,” Xiao San said.
“Hmm.” Qin Feng nodded—this was expected. “Yang Hao has been too ostentatious, pushing the Ten Sword Sects to the brink. Killing him is justified.”
“They even plan to deploy the ‘Enchantress.'”
“Oh?” Even Qin Feng was taken aback. He sighed, then chuckled. “I thought they were saving the ‘Enchantress’ for me. These old men are losing their patience.”
Xiao San bowed his head. “I’ve failed. I still don’t know who the Enchantress is.”
“Not your fault. The Elder Council’s greatest secret in twenty years wouldn’t be easy to uncover.” Qin Feng clasped his hands within his sleeves, deep in thought.
After a long pause, Xiao San hesitantly asked, “Master, do you think Yang Hao will die?”
“Hmph.” Qin Feng smirked. “With the Enchantress involved, how could he not?”
“In that case, should we lend the Ten Sword Sects a hand?” Xiao San mused. “Since Yang Hao is doomed anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to do them a favor…”
Qin Feng smiled faintly and changed the subject. “Xiao San, who do you think the empire belongs to?”
Xiao San was taken aback but quickly replied, “Naturally, it belongs to His Majesty the Emperor. The billions of people and countless planets of the Galactic Empire are all His Majesty’s.”
“Wrong.” Qin Feng spoke bluntly, his words bordering on treason. “The Galactic Empire does not belong to the emperor—it belongs to the Elder Council. Those billions of people are merely slaves mining resources for the council, and those countless planets are just territories under their control.”
Xiao San understood. This trusted minister of the emperor believed the Elder Council’s power had grown too great, even surpassing the emperor’s. Since the empire’s founding, the council had stood above all government bodies. In recent decades, the emperor had tried to counterbalance them with the Privy Council, but to little effect. The Elder Council’s influence remained overwhelming, and they no longer regarded the emperor with respect.
“It’s time someone weakened those old men’s power,” Qin Feng said with a smile.
“But Yang Hao won’t last long. He’ll die soon,” Xiao San said, shuddering at the thought of the Enchantress in action.
“Fate will decide. It’s up to him now.” Qin Feng sighed and gazed into the depths of the black hall, where darkness seemed endless.
And so it was with human destiny—ever extending, with no one knowing what the future held.
Since defeating the Beastheart Sword Sect, Yang Hao had enjoyed a relatively peaceful period—relative, of course, to his usual chaos. Over the past month, he had spent his days training and helping the members of the Hao Sword Sect break through to the Ethereal Realm. After incinerating hundreds of magical beasts in the arena, Yang Hao had naturally harvested their inner cores, using them to boost his sect’s cultivation. Now, all of them had reached the Ethereal Realm, and combined with the Wounded Sword Formation, their combat prowess was formidable.
For the Alchemy Sword Sect and the Alchemy Corporation, however, this was a time of rapid expansion. Yang Hao’s reputation was at its peak. After his awe-inspiring performance in the arena, where he single-handedly annihilated an entire sword sect, nobles across the empire hailed him as the leader of the greatest sword sect in the world. As a result, enrollment in the Alchemy Sword Sect surged, and imperial coins flowed steadily into Yang Hao’s coffers.
“Why must the Steward Elders act?” The newly appointed leader of the Murk Assassin Clan, shrouded in black robes with a blurred face, said, “Among us here, at least five are elders. Yang Hao is only a Grand Sword Master. Anyone of us could end his life easily.”
“No!” At least three elders shouted simultaneously.
Qilian frowned slightly. The Murk Assassin Clan had always been known for its calmness and ruthlessness. How had the new leader become so reckless? “Although Yang Hao appears to be only at the level of a Grand Sword Master, his power increases rapidly when he attacks, and his cultivation path is outside our knowledge. Moreover, the Nine Steward Elders have already confirmed that the five rings on Yang Hao’s hand are divine artifacts, each sealing the power of ancient deities. If that power erupts, it may be beyond our ability to handle.”
“If this won’t work, and that won’t either, are we just going to let him go?” The Murk leader sneered. “Yang Hao has already seized five sacred swords and established the Dan Ding Sword Sect. It won’t be long before the remaining five swords are in his possession. We might as well disband the Ten Sword Sects and merge directly into his Dan Ding Sword Sect.”
“Temper tantrum!” Hai Wanggong thumped his cane, gesturing. Although he had lost his former power, his residual authority remained. “Even if Yang Hao is formidable, he’s still just a person. And a person must have weaknesses. What is there to fear?”
“The current question is whether we should kill him,” Qilian said, discussing even murder so calmly and openly. “The Steward Elders have decided against it, but what about us…?”
“Kill!” The Murk leader slammed the table.
“Kill!” The Light Sword Sect roared simultaneously.
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“The Elders are furious,” said the master of the Cultivators’ Grove, Qilian Cultivator, solemnly. “The nine Grand Steward Elders are extremely enraged. The four dragons that the Elder Council spent such a great cost to tame were actually released by Yang Hao.”
He spoke these words at what was perhaps the most oppressive meeting in the history of the Ten Sword Sects.
This meeting was secretly convened at the Cultivators’ Grove, one of the four major strongholds guarding the Elder Mountain. The leaders of all ten sword sects were nearly all present—only the Star Circus, which had been on a secret mission in the outer regions, failed to return in time, while the leader of the Beastheart Sword Sect, Bista, had been imprisoned after his sect was annihilated.
At this meeting, the seating arrangement of the Ten Sword Sects underwent a major reshuffle. The Wang Clan, the Netherkill Assassins, and the Blackwind Sword Sect, which had previously held the highest seats, had all suffered significant losses in power due to the loss of their sect’s divine swords and were forced to take the lowest seats. The four sects that still retained their divine swords—the Cultivators’ Grove, the Yan Clan, the Illusory Feather Sect, and the Divine Mercy Sword Sect—now dominated the Ten Sword Sects.
The atmosphere was suffocating. Since its founding, the Ten Sword Sects had never faced such a devastating setback. In just one year, five divine swords had been lost, multiple sword sects had suffered crippling blows, and their opponent was merely a newly emerged young man.
“What have the Elders decided to do?” asked Lord Haiwang, the head of the Wang Clan. Since all the clan heads here were themselves Elders, he was naturally inquiring about the decision of the Grand Steward Elders.
In the Galactic Empire, private cultivation was strictly forbidden—only those directly under the Elder Council were permitted to cultivate. Ordinary Elders were on par with Sword Saints in strength, while the Grand Steward Elders were said to approach the level of loose immortals. Thus, if the Grand Steward Elders were willing to act, killing Yang Hao would be as easy as plucking something from a bag.
Qilian Cultivator sighed faintly. The old man had a serene face, his long beard flowing, exuding the aura of a true master. He replied to Lord Haiwang, “The Grand Steward Elders seem to have reservations—perhaps related to the Supreme One. They likely won’t intervene.”
The “Supreme One” they spoke of was naturally the leader of the Elder Council, the highest-ranking immortal in the Galactic Empire—and also the mortal enemy of Yang Hao and Hunyuanzi.
“There’s no need for the Grand Steward Elders to act,” said the newly appointed leader of the Netherkill Assassins, his face obscured by black robes. “Among the leaders of the sword sects here, at least five are Elders, while Yang Hao is only at the Great Sword Master level. Any one of us could easily take his life.”
“No!” At least three Elders shouted simultaneously.
Qilian Cultivator frowned slightly. The Netherkill Assassins were known for their calm and ruthless demeanor—how had their new leader become so reckless? “Yang Hao may appear to be only at the Great Sword Master level, but his power surges rapidly when he draws his sword, and his cultivation path is beyond our understanding. Moreover, the nine Grand Steward Elders have confirmed that the five rings on Yang Hao’s hands are divine artifacts, sealing the power of ancient gods. If unleashed, they may be beyond our ability to handle.”
“If this won’t work and that won’t work, are we just going to let him go?” the Netherkill leader sneered. “Yang Hao has already taken five divine swords and openly established the Alchemy Sword Sect. It won’t be long before the remaining five swords fall into his hands as well. At that point, the Ten Sword Sects might as well disband and merge into his Alchemy Sword Sect!”
“Such childish talk!” Lord Haiwang struck his cane on the ground. Though he had lost influence, his authority still carried weight. “No matter how powerful Yang Hao is, he’s still just a man. And men have weaknesses—what is there to fear?”
“The real question is whether or not to kill him,” Qilian Cultivator said, discussing murder as calmly as if it were an ordinary matter. “The Grand Steward Elders seem inclined not to, but as for us…”
“Kill!” The Netherkill leader slammed the table.
“Kill!” the Light Sword Sect roared in agreement.
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
Seven sect leaders voiced their stance. Lord Haiwang finally concluded, “Regardless of what the Grand Steward Elders think, the ten divine swords were personally bestowed upon us by the Supreme One. If we lose them and the Supreme One demands an explanation, none of us will escape blame. So we must kill him—we must reclaim the divine swords.”
“How?” Qilian Cultivator asked.
This question plunged the sect leaders into silence once more. Yang Hao’s personal strength was not the real concern—it was his ghostly Shadowmoon Blade and the five divine rings that were truly terrifying. The memory of Yang Hao defeating the Beastheart Sword Sect in a single move and then incinerating all the demonic beasts in the arena still sent shivers down their spines.
“Even if we can’t kill him directly, we can still target those close to him,” said the leader of the Divine Mercy Sword Sect, showing no mercy whatsoever. “We’ll capture his most cherished people and force him to surrender the divine swords.”
“Wouldn’t that be too despicable?” Qilian Cultivator remarked coolly.
“Assassination,” came a woman’s voice. Female Elders were rare in the Elder Council, and this veiled beauty exuded an air of mystery and solemnity. She was the leader of the Illusory Feather Sect, the only all-female sect among the Ten Sword Sects.
“Assassination?” The Netherkill members scoffed. “If even we can’t assassinate him, who can? In this field, Yang Hao’s assassination skills likely far surpass ours. His sword can turn invisible—can any of ours do that?”
“The only solution is to send *her*,” the Illusory Feather Sect leader said coldly.
“Her?”
“Her?”
The sect leaders immediately thought of one person, and a collective chill ran down their spines. “Has it come to this? Must we really deploy *her*?”
The Illusory Feather Sect leader tapped the table lightly with her slender fingers. “What we face now is an unprecedented crisis—the Ten Sword Sects could be uprooted entirely. If not now, then when should we use the ‘Enchantress’?”
The room fell silent. The crisis they faced was indeed that dire.
But deploying the “Enchantress” was a terrifying prospect. The “Enchantress Project” was the longest-running and most secretive operation in the history of the Ten Sword Sects—and even the Elder Council. The “Enchantress” was a woman of mysterious identity, trained meticulously by the Elder Council for over twenty years for a covert mission. Once she acted, there was no target she couldn’t eliminate.
But according to the plan, the “Enchantress” was meant to deal with high-ranking officials like the Empire’s Chief Minister. Did Yang Hao truly warrant the use of this hidden trump card?
Qilian Cultivator stroked his beard, lost in thought.
Suddenly, a fierce light flashed in his eyes. “We’ll strike from two angles at once. This time, that upstart Yang Hao *must* die!”
And so, the decision was made.
Shortly after the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting concluded, a streak of black light flashed into the imperial palace via a teleportation device.
Amid the grand architecture of golden roofs and stone walls stood a ten-meter-tall black hall, forged from crude iron, standing tall and unyielding in the cold wind like the Empire’s mighty soldiers.
Even those who rarely entered the palace knew that this conspicuous building was the daily workplace of a pivotal figure in the Galactic Empire.
His name was Tai Feng, and his title was simple—Commander of the Imperial Guard.
The position of Imperial Guard Commander was not as prestigious as that of the Chief Minister of the Privy Council, which commanded millions of troops and countless warships, making him the foremost military official in the Empire.
But the Imperial Guard had always held a unique status. They were the trusted force safeguarding the imperial family, lacking warships but possessing absolute loyalty and unfathomable combat prowess.
It was widely known that the Galactic Empire had three Sword Saints—peerless masters independent of the Elder Council. But few knew that all three originated from the Imperial Guard and had only revealed themselves to train the imperial family in martial arts. Just how many more such figures existed within the Guard remained a closely guarded secret.
Take Tai Feng, for example. At over seventy years old, he had served as Imperial Guard Commander for thirty years, yet no one had ever seen him fight. Even the most astute Elders of the Heavenly Strategy Sect couldn’t discern the depths of his power.
Tai Feng always wore a black robe, specially permitted by imperial decree to bear the royal insignia, exempting him from kneeling before the Emperor and granting him autonomous authority. In terms of power, Tai Feng was no less than any Chief Minister. Yet, throughout the Empire’s history, he had never uttered a single word on politics. He was the Emperor’s shadow, forever lurking in the darkness to protect the royal family.
The black figure that emerged from the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting entered Tai Feng’s black hall.
The interior was as dark as ever, with only Tai Feng standing beside his massive desk, examining a large map under a special white fluorescent light. The map was a flat projection of Earth, marked with various colored symbols denoting the armed forces of different factions. The entire planet was densely covered, with few blank spaces.
“Master,” the black figure knelt halfway and looked up. It was none other than the newly appointed, hot-tempered leader of the Netherkill Assassins from the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting.
“Xiao San, you’ve arrived,” Tai Feng said without looking up. “Rise.”
“Yes.” The black-clad man called Xiao San stood and remained silent, head bowed.
Tai Feng studied the map intently, patiently erasing a few marks—symbolizing that within days, the armed forces of certain nobles or merchants in those regions would be completely wiped out.
The Imperial Guard’s duty was to suppress threats to the capital and Earth below a critical threshold.
“The meeting is over?” Tai Feng finally looked up and asked with a smile.
“It is,” Xiao San replied solemnly, his delicate, almost feminine features making his age hard to discern.
“After ten years undercover, you finally attended a meeting,” Tai Feng said approvingly. “Xiao San, you’ve endured much these past ten years.”
This man, Xiao San, was a mole planted by the Imperial Guard into the Netherkill Assassins a decade ago. As the Emperor’s instrument for maintaining control, the Guard’s intelligence operations were unparalleled. That a mole could rise to lead one of the Ten Sword Sects spoke volumes about Tai Feng’s meticulous planning.
“They’ve decided to kill Yang Hao,” Xiao San reported.
“Hmm.” Tai Feng nodded—this was expected. “Yang Hao has made too many enemies and pushed the Ten Sword Sects to the brink. Killing him is only logical.”
“They even plan to deploy the ‘Enchantress.'”
“Oh?” Even Tai Feng was taken aback. He sighed, then chuckled. “I thought they were saving the ‘Enchantress’ for me. These old men are losing their patience.”
Xiao San bowed his head. “I’ve failed—I still haven’t uncovered the Enchantress’s identity.”
“Don’t blame yourself. The Elder Council’s greatest secret in twenty years wouldn’t be easy to uncover.” Tai Feng clasped his hands within his sleeves, deep in thought.
After a long silence, Xiao San hesitantly asked, “Master, do you think Yang Hao will die?”
Tai Feng smirked coldly. “If even the Enchantress is mobilized, how could he not?”
“In that case, should we lend the Ten Sword Sects a hand?” Xiao San suggested. “Since Yang Hao is doomed anyway, it’s an easy favor…”
Tai Feng smiled faintly and changed the subject. “Xiao San, who do you think the Empire belongs to?”
Xiao San was taken aback but quickly replied, “Naturally, it belongs to His Majesty the Emperor. The Galactic Empire’s countless people and planets are all His Majesty’s.”
“Wrong.” Tai Feng spoke bluntly, his words bordering on treason. “The Galactic Empire does not belong to the Emperor—it belongs to the Elder Council. Those countless people are merely slaves mining resources for the Council, and those planets are just territories under their control.”
Xiao San understood. This trusted minister of the Emperor believed the Elder Council’s power had grown too great, even surpassing the Emperor’s. Since the Empire’s founding, the Council had seemingly stood above all government bodies. In recent decades, the Emperor had used the Privy Council to counterbalance them, but to little effect. The Elder Council’s influence remained overwhelming, and they no longer regarded the Emperor with respect.
“It’s time someone weakened those old men’s power,” Tai Feng said with a smile.
“But Yang Hao won’t last long—he’ll die soon,” Xiao San said, shuddering at the thought of the Enchantress in action.
“Fate will decide his destiny.” Tai Feng sighed and gazed deeper into the black hall, where the darkness seemed endless.
And so too was the path of human fate—stretching forward, with no one knowing what the future held.
Since his victory over the Beastheart Sword Sect, Yang Hao had enjoyed a relatively peaceful period—relatively, that is, by his standards. Over the past month, he had spent his days training and helping the members of the Hao Sword Sect break through to the Ethereal Realm. After incinerating hundreds of demonic beasts in the arena, Yang Hao naturally harvested their inner cores, which he used to boost his disciples’ cultivation. Now, all of them had reached the Ethereal Realm, and when combined with the Wounded Sword Formation, their combat prowess was formidable.
For the Alchemy Sword Sect and the Alchemy Corporation, however, this was a period of rapid expansion. Yang Hao’s reputation was at its peak, and nobles across the Empire had heard of his awe-inspiring duel in the arena. A man who could annihilate an entire sword sect single-handedly—wasn’t this the leader of the world’s greatest sword sect? As a result, enrollment in the Alchemy Sword Sect surged, and imperial coins flowed endlessly into Yang Hao’s coffers.
“How do we kill him?” Qilian asked.
This question plunged the leaders of the sword sects into silence again. Yang Hao’s personal strength was not too terrifying, but his ghostly Shadow Moon Blade and the five divine rings were no joking matter. The scene in the arena where Yang Hao defeated the Beastheart Sword Sect in one move and burned all the magical beasts in another still sent chills down their spines.
“Even if we can’t kill him ourselves, we can at least kill those around him,” the leader of the Divine Absolution Sect said, showing no mercy. “We can capture his closest people and force him to hand over the sacred swords.”
“Wouldn’t that be too despicable?” Qilian said lightly.
“Assassination,” a woman’s voice spoke. The number of female elders in the Senate was originally small, and this beautiful woman, veiled, appeared even more mysterious and dignified. She was the only female-led sect among the Ten Sword Sects, the Illusion Feather Sect’s leader.
“Assassination?” The Murk Assassin Clan sneered. “If even we can’t assassinate him, who can? In this regard, Yang Hao’s assassination skills are probably far superior to ours. His sword can become invisible. Who among us has that?”
“The only way is to send her,” the leader of the Illusion Feather Sect said sharply.
“Her?”
“Her?”
The leaders of the sword sects thought of one person and simultaneously gasped in alarm. “Has it come to this? Do we really have to deploy her?”
The Illusion Feather Sect leader gently tapped the table with her slender fingers. “What we are facing now is an unprecedented crisis. The Ten Sword Sects might even be completely destroyed. If we don’t deploy the ‘Yaoji’ now, when will we?”
Everyone fell silent. Indeed, the crisis they faced now was so immense.
But deploying the “Yaoji” was truly terrifying. The “Yaoji” plan was the most enduring and secret plan of the Ten Sword Sects and even the Senate. Within this plan, “Yaoji” was a person, a mysterious woman. Trained meticulously by the Senate for over twenty years, she carried out secret missions as a spy. Once she acted, there should be no one she couldn’t eliminate.
However, in the plan, “Yaoji” was meant to target high-ranking officials like the Chief Minister of the Empire. Was Yang Hao really so formidable that they had to deploy this hidden ace?
Qilian stroked his beard, pondering for a long time.
Suddenly, his eyes blazed with intense light. “Dual-pronged approach. This time, Yang Hao must die!”
That sealed the decision of life and death.
Shortly after the meeting of the Ten Sword Sects ended, a black light flashed into the imperial palace of the capital through a teleportation device.
Beside the magnificent buildings of stone walls and golden tiles, there stood a ten-meter-high hall, entirely black, as if forged from rough iron. It stood tall against the wind like the mighty soldiers of the Empire.
Even those who rarely entered the imperial palace knew that this prominent building was the daily workplace of a crucial figure in the Galactic Empire.
This person was named Qin Feng, and his position was simple—he was the commander of the Imperial Guard.
Of course, the position of the Imperial Guard commander was not as important as that of the Chief Minister of the Privy Council. The Privy Council commanded millions of troops and had countless warships, making it the top military official in the Empire.
However, the Imperial Guard had always held a special status. They were the trusted force that maintained the safety of the royal family. Although they lacked powerful warships and cannons, they had absolutely loyal guards and combat strength that outsiders could barely fathom.
People only knew that there were three Sword Saints in the Galactic Empire. These were peerless experts who operated outside the Senate. But no one knew that these three Sword Saints all came from the Imperial Guard system. They had to reveal themselves only to teach martial arts to the royal family. How many Sword Saints-like figures still remained hidden within the Imperial Guard was a mystery.
Take Qin Feng, for example. He was over seventy years old and had served as the commander of the Imperial Guard for thirty years, yet no one had ever seen him fight. Even the most calculating elder of the Tiance could not fathom how much combat power he truly possessed. Qin Feng always wore a long black robe, specially granted by the Emperor with the royal crest embroidered on it. He was exempt from kneeling before the Emperor and had the authority to make independent decisions. In terms of power, Qin Feng was no less than any Chief Minister. Yet, throughout the history of the Empire, there had never been a single recorded political comment from Qin Feng. He was a shadow of the Imperial family, forever hidden in the dark, protecting the royal family’s safety.
The black figure that emerged from the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting entered Qin Feng’s Black Hall.
The Black Hall was indeed as dark as usual, with only Qin Feng, dressed in black robes, standing beside his huge desk, studying a massive map under a special white fluorescent lamp. The map was clearly a plan of Earth, marked with various colored symbols indicating the armed forces of different factions. The entire globe was densely covered with marks, leaving few empty spaces.
“Teacher,” the black figure knelt halfway, looking up. He was actually the newly appointed leader of the Murk Assassin Clan, the hot-tempered figure from the Ten Sword Sects’ meeting.
“Xiao San has come,” Qin Feng didn’t even lift his head. “Stand up.”
“Yes.” The figure known as Xiao San stood up, lowering his head and standing silently to the side, not uttering a word.
Qin Feng squinted at the map, patiently erasing several marks. This meant that in a few days, certain places on Earth, perhaps noble armed forces or merchant militias, would be completely eliminated.
It was the duty of the Imperial Guard to reduce the threats to the capital and even the Earth to below the critical point.
“The meeting is over?” Qin Feng finally looked up, smiling.
“It’s over.” Xiao San lowered his eyes solemnly. He looked delicate and somewhat effeminate, making it hard to determine his age.
“Hmph, after ten years of hiding, you finally got to attend a meeting,” Qin Feng praised. “Xiao San, these ten years have been hard on you.”
This Xiao San, the Murk assassin, was actually a spy planted into the Murk Assassin Clan by the Imperial Guard system ten years ago. As a tool for the Emperor to control the overall situation, the intelligence work of the Imperial Guard system was unparalleled. A spy reaching the position of a leader in the Ten Sword Sects showed how deep and intricate Qin Feng’s arrangements were.
“They have decided to kill Yang Hao,” Xiao San said.
“Hmm.” Qin Feng nodded. This was naturally expected. “Yang Hao has shown too much brilliance and pushed the Ten Sword Sects into a corner. It’s only natural for them to want to kill him.”
“They are even preparing to deploy ‘Yaoji.'”
“Oh?” This time, even Qin Feng was taken aback. He sighed and then smiled. “I thought they were going to use ‘Yaoji’ to kill me. Those old guys still can’t keep their composure.”
Xiao San lowered his head again. “I failed to uncover who ‘Yaoji’ really is.”
“It’s not your fault. The Senate’s biggest secret in nearly two decades would naturally be kept from you,” Qin Feng said, his hands hidden in the sleeves of his robe, calculating in his mind.
After a long silence, Xiao San hesitated and asked, “Teacher, do you think Yang Hao will die?”
“Hmph,” Qin Feng said coldly. “With even ‘Yaoji’ deployed, how could he possibly survive?”
“If that’s the case, should we lend the Ten Sword Sects a hand?” Xiao San calculated. “After all, Yang Hao is going to die anyway. It would be a good favor to do.”
Qin Feng smiled faintly and changed the subject. “Xiao San, what do you think the Empire belongs to?”
Xiao San was startled but immediately answered, “Of course, it belongs to His Majesty the Emperor. The Galactic Empire has billions of people and countless planets, all belonging to His Majesty the Emperor.”
“You’re wrong,” Qin Feng said bluntly, uttering words close to treason. “The Galactic Empire does not belong to His Majesty the Emperor; it belongs to the Senate. Those billions of people are merely laborers mining resources for the Senate, and the countless planets are just territories under the Senate’s control.”
Xiao San understood. This trusted minister of the Imperial Emperor felt that the Senate’s power had become too great, even surpassing that of the Emperor himself. Since the founding of the Empire, the Senate had always stood above all other government bodies. In recent decades, the Emperor had tried to balance their power with the Privy Council, but the results were poor. The Senate remained overwhelmingly powerful, no longer regarding the Emperor with any respect.
“It’s time someone weakened those old men’s power,” Qin Feng smiled.
“But Yang Hao won’t last long. He will die soon,” Xiao San thought of ‘Yaoji’ preparing to strike, and he felt uncomfortable all over.
“Fate and destiny. Let’s see what luck he has,” Qin Feng sighed, turning his gaze deeper into the Black Hall, where the darkness seemed endless, stretching on and on.
And human destiny, was it not similarly stretching on, with no one knowing what the future would bring?
Since defeating the Beastheart Sword Sect, Yang Hao had experienced a relatively peaceful period. When I say relatively peaceful, that was only in Yang Hao’s terms. In the past month, he had spent every day either cultivating or helping the children of the Hao Sword Sect break through to the Spirit Void stage. After burning hundreds of magical beasts that day, Yang Hao naturally didn’t waste those beasts’ cores, bringing them back to help the Hao Sword Sect members cultivate and upgrade. Now, these members had all broken through to the Spirit Void stage, and with the Injury Sword Formation, their combat power was no longer to be underestimated.
However, this period was a time of great development for both the Dan Ding Sword Sect and the Dan Ding Group. Yang Hao’s reputation was at its peak. Countless nobles had heard of the awe-inspiring duel in the arena that day, where he had defeated an entire sword sect single-handedly. Who else but the leader of the number one sword sect in the world could do that? Therefore, the number of applicants to the Dan Ding Sword Sect surged even higher, and imperial credits flowed continuously into Yang Hao’s coffers.
But the protagonist Yang Hao remained unusually calm, surprisingly so.
For instance, tonight, instead of accompanying the Hao Sword Group for their sword practice, he had traveled a long distance to arrive at a remote, rarely visited location.
Although Earth had long been unified politically, it was still divided into multiple regions. There were more than twenty cities and one imperial capital across the globe. Most areas, aside from the oceans, were claimed by cities, making the cities the epitome of prosperity. Yet the place where Yang Hao now stood was uniquely desolate, uniquely quiet, and uniquely luxurious.
This luxury stemmed precisely from its desolation and quietude. Earth now housed hundreds of billions of people, most of whom were noble descendants, making land more precious than anything else. The oceans were entirely controlled by the Senate and could not be filled to create more land. Consequently, nearly all the mountains and forests had been flattened to build towering skyscrapers.
Yet here, nature remained untouched. Verdant trees and ancient woods, some over a thousand years old, covered the landscape. Rising from the dense forest was a lush green mountain, shrouded in clouds and mist, exuding an ethereal aura. Small streams meandered through the jungle. Such a primitive ecosystem had already been rare hundreds of years ago, let alone now.
Standing at the edge of the dark forest, Yang Hao gazed at the towering mountain in the distance, resembling a black giant. Occasionally, flashes of light flickered from the peak—most wouldn’t know what they were, but Yang Hao understood perfectly: they were flying swords belonging to certain elders.
“This is Elder Mountain,” Yang Hao said to Hunyuanzi. “The Imperial Senate is up there.”
“Dan-Ding Sect’s cave dwelling,” Hunyuanzi said discontentedly. “Say it with me: Dan-Ding Sect’s cave dwelling.”
“Dan-Ding Sect’s cave dwelling,” Yang Hao obediently repeated.
Only then did Hunyuanzi seem satisfied. He muttered bitterly, “What Elder Mountain? This mountain was once called Copper Cauldron Peak a thousand years ago. It was established by several ancestral masters of our Dan-Ding Sect using great powers. Deep inside the mountain lies an ancient copper cauldron heart, which preserves the natural energy of heaven and earth and absorbs it into the cave dwelling. Our Dan-Ding Sect has cultivated here for thousands of years. How regrettable that our enemy destroyed our sect overnight and now claims it as their own.”
“The current Elder Mountain is heavily guarded,” Yang Hao had already gathered thorough intelligence. “At the foot of the mountain, in the ancient forest, four sword sects guard the four cardinal directions. Several fighters from the Ten Sword Flow who haven’t fought me are stationed here. They’ve never left Elder Mountain, and their strength remains unknown. There’s a sect called the Sword Forest Sect, which is said to be relatively strong.”
“Hmm,” Hunyuanzi seemed lost in memories, merely responding with a hum.
“There’s only one narrow path leading up the mountain, and along it, the sword sects have hidden guards. My scouts tried several times but never returned,” Yang Hao narrowed his eyes, looking at the peak of Elder Mountain. Deep within the misty, ethereal atmosphere, an incongruous dark cloud floated. “I once sent someone flying up the mountain, avoiding the path, but within less than a second, lightning from the summit struck him down, killing him instantly.”
“The Xuan Lei Barrier,” Hunyuanzi said. “It’s been there since my cultivation days. Unbreakable. The only way up is the narrow path.”
“The rest are just rumors. No one has managed to reach the summit and return with accurate information,” Yang Hao scratched his head in frustration. “Along the narrow path, around an altitude of 3,000 meters, lies the Senate. There are at least a hundred elders cultivating there. Each elder is said to possess at least the strength of a Sword Saint.”
“Hmm.”
“Going further up, at around 4,000 meters, is the place you mentioned… that…”
“The Sword Mausoleum.”
“Yes, the Sword Mausoleum.” Yang Hao tried hard to recall the costly intelligence he had purchased. “It’s a graveyard of broken and discarded swords, said to contain countless remnants of flying swords.”
Sighing deeply, Hunyuanzi said, “That Sword Mausoleum is one of the sacred sites of the Dan-Ding Sect. Throughout history, any Dan-Ding Sect cultivator who died in battle or during tribulation would have their flying sword enter this mausoleum. Those swords were once the weapons of our fellow sect members.”
“The things you mentioned are there too?” Yang Hao’s eyes began to shine, drool slowly forming.
“Two Core Pills,” Hunyuanzi chuckled lightly. “They’re all yours now, you little rabbit. Back then, I refined these two Core Pills and hid them in the Sword Mausoleum before going to seek revenge on my enemy. Now, in the blink of an eye, a thousand years have passed.”
“Why did you refine those two Core Pills back then? Weren’t you already past the Cold Solitude and Frost Walk stages long ago?” Yang Hao asked while drooling.
“Back then, I was preparing for revenge, thinking that even if I failed, I might lose two cultivation stages. So I prepared these two Core Pills in advance for emergencies. Who would have thought that failure would leave me unable to recover, rendering these two Core Pills useless. But after a thousand years, I wonder if they’ve lost their potency.”
“No way, no way,” Yang Hao shook his head vigorously. “The miraculous medicines of our Dan-Ding Sect never lose their effect, even after a hundred million years. Not to mention the protection of senior experts. As the only hope to revive and expand the Dan-Ding Sect, I’m naturally destined for protection.”
“Tch, more like a poisonous weed,” Hunyuanzi scoffed as usual. “What about that other matter? Have you figured it out yet?”
“It’s too secret to be confirmed. Only rumors exist,” Yang Hao turned his gaze further ahead. At the peak of the ethereal mountain, faint glimmers of treasure light flickered. “At an altitude of 5,000 meters, the summit, there should be a massive cave. That thing must be inside.”
“This cave is the core of the Dan-Ding Sect’s cave dwelling. All the natural energy is stored inside. Ordinary people have no idea that for those practicing the art of absorbing natural energy, cultivating inside such a cave dwelling would be like advancing a thousand miles a day.” Hunyuanzi’s voice was filled with hatred. “According to my spiritual perception, that person isn’t even on Earth anymore. His soul must have gone wandering. Naturally, his physical body needs to be well protected.”
“The entire Earth has no place more heavily guarded than this. There are four sword sects guarding the base, hidden sentries along the only narrow path, over a hundred elders cultivating in the middle, and the peak is protected by an impenetrable Xuan Lei barrier. If that person’s soul is wandering, his physical body must have been hidden and preserved inside the Dan-Ding Sect’s cave dwelling. This preservation method might even make his skin smoother,” Yang Hao said with a chuckle.
The “that person” the master and apprentice were talking about was naturally their enemy—the highest-ranking immortal in the Galactic Empire and the one revered by all as the “Supreme Emperor.”
The Supreme Emperor founded the Senate, unified the Galactic Empire, and was considered the most invincible being in the universe. These beliefs were deeply rooted in the hearts of the Empire’s people. However, for the past hundred years, the Supreme Emperor seemed to have vanished without a trace. The Senate always claimed that the Supreme Emperor was on a spiritual journey. Yang Hao and his master, of course, knew the truth: the spiritual journey was actually the wandering of the soul while the body remained. This was the easiest method for immortals. An immortal’s soul could travel light-years in an instant, unaffected by any conditions, making it an almost unbeatable existence.
However, there was a risk: the immortal’s physical body would be completely unprotected. That person wasn’t Yang Hao, who was a freak of nature with two souls. Even if one soul left, his body was still under control. But for ordinary immortals, once the soul left, the physical body became vulnerable. If attacked, it would be completely defenseless.
If the physical body was destroyed, it would be a significant loss for the immortal. Even if the soul returned, it would lose at least half of its power. Master Hunyuanzi and his disciple had spent a lot of time and effort planning this revenge. With Yang Hao’s current strength, challenging the Supreme Emperor would be like a small fish fighting a whale. Yang Hao wouldn’t even be able to choose how he died. The only solution was to target the defenseless physical body. In Yang Hao’s words, they would desecrate the corpse, destroy the physical body, and halve the immortal’s power, making him vulnerable.
This plan sounded simple but was as fantastical as a fairy tale to execute. Just the four sword sects guarding the base were a major obstacle. Yang Hao was confident he could handle them, but how could he do so without allowing any of the sects to send out a signal?
If any of the four sects managed to send out a distress signal, the nine high-ranking elders patrolling the seas would return. Even if Yang Hao were a god, he probably couldn’t break through the defenses of nine elders.
Even if Yang Hao managed to reach halfway up the mountain, he would still have to face the entire Senate. There were over a hundred elders there. One Sword Saint like Situ Hai already required the use of a divine ring. How could he possibly fight against a hundred Sword Saints?
Moreover, even if the Supreme Emperor’s physical body was defenseless, it was likely surrounded by powerful barriers. With Yang Hao’s current strength, how could he confidently break through barriers set by an immortal?
So, although the plan was good, it was ultimately just a fantasy. Recently, Yang Hao had often come here to investigate the situation, never daring to entertain the delusion of destroying the Supreme Emperor’s physical body. He was just thinking about how to sneak into the Sword Mausoleum and get his hands on those two Core Pills first.
Yang Hao slowly focused his mind. Suddenly, the air in front of him began to ripple violently. Then, faint blue light appeared. Soon, several thick ice spears materialized in the air. Following Yang Hao’s mental command, they slowly flew forward.
This technique was something Yang Hao had learned from the Four Dragons. That day at the Beast Arena, Yang Hao saw the Four Dragons using their spiritual power to form ice spears. He thought that since his spiritual power was also strong—after all, he had eaten the Dragon Breath Pill and could now communicate with dragons using his spiritual power—he should be able to achieve similar results.
After several trials, Yang Hao indeed mastered the technique of forming ice spears with his spiritual power. Moreover, he discovered that his spiritual power seemed to have other uses.
After the ice spears dissipated in the air, Yang Hao’s spiritual power continued to advance. He wanted to slowly push it up Elder Mountain until it infiltrated the Sword Mausoleum, helping him steal Hunyuanzi’s Core Pills.
Just as his spiritual power was about to approach the sword sects, Yang Hao suddenly felt a movement behind him. This startled him greatly. Within a thousand kilometers around Elder Mountain was a restricted zone, where anyone entering would be killed on sight. Yang Hao had always been cautious, guarding against anyone approaching. Yet this person had come so close without being noticed, clearly a top-tier expert.
The Shadow Moon unsheathed, making a direct slash behind him. With a loud boom, the ground behind Yang Hao was split into a trench. But to his shock, the attack missed— the expert had already twisted his body and moved even closer to Yang Hao.
Yang Hao used the Flying Flower Phantom technique to dodge two steps and turned around again, but the expert followed like a shadow, still sticking close to Yang Hao. Before Yang Hao’s eyes, a familiar mask gleamed with an unusual light.
“Xie Fengmo?” Yang Hao was momentarily stunned. “What are you doing here?”
Indeed, the expert who appeared behind Yang Hao was none other than Xie Fengting, who had come to deliver gifts on behalf of the Merchant Guild that day. Yang Hao still remembered this guy used light sword techniques and had strength close to a Sword Saint.
Xie Fengting’s face was serious, and he wasted no words. “Quickly leave. The Dan-Ding Sword Sect is in trouble.”
Yang Hao was shocked. “In trouble? What kind of trouble?”
“Someone went to the Dan-Ding Sword Sect to cause chaos, injuring and capturing people,” Xie Fengting grabbed Yang Hao and flew off. Within this one thousand kilometer radius, instantaneous movement devices couldn’t be used. Only after leaving this area could they quickly locate and return to their coordinates.
Although Yang Hao was flying, his mind was in chaos. The Dan-Ding Sword Sect was in trouble? The Hao Sword Group was there. Longyun, Maya, XII, and Zhuge Jian were all there. All his friends and brothers lived at the Dan-Ding Sword Sect. How could something happen? How was it possible?
Yang Hao and Xie Fengting were both experts. Before long, they had returned to the Dan-Ding Sword Sect’s villa.
According to the Empire’s tradition, every sword sect should have its own residence. Although the Dan-Ding Sword Sect was not officially recognized, Yang Hao’s wealth made up for that. He had bought a large piece of land, demolished the original buildings, dug out a lake, and used the excavated soil to form hills. Recently, it had become quite impressive.
But today, as soon as they entered the high archway of the Dan-Ding Sword Sect, Yang Hao felt something was off. Usually, at the gate, there were always lines of noble disciples waiting to pay their fees to join. At the busiest times, even many vendors flying in their vehicles sold food, making it seem like a commercial district.
But today, it was eerily quiet, not even a bird in sight. At the gate, several patches of dried, hardened blood were shockingly visible. Yang Hao’s heart tightened, and without asking too many questions, he quickly rushed into the sword sect compound.
Indeed, something was definitely wrong. Recently, the Dan Ding Sword Sect had accepted a large number of noble disciples. These people had never really been interested in learning swordsmanship; most were just here to polish their reputations and sneak around for some aphrodisiac pills. Therefore, they usually gathered near the entrance of the sword sect, chatting idly and arguing amongst themselves.
But today, no one had gathered at all. Even if there were one or two people around, they were sneaking toward the main entrance with their heads down, not even greeting Yang Hao when they saw him.
It’s indeed quite suspicious. The Danding Sword Sect has recently taken in so many noble disciples. These people never had any real intention of learning swordsmanship—most were just here to gild their reputations and get their hands on some aphrodisiacs. So usually, they’d gather near the sect’s main gate, chatting idly and bickering.
But today, there was no crowd at all. Even the few who remained were slinking toward the gate, not even greeting Yang Hao when they saw him.
When Yang Hao entered the White Tower, his already uneasy heart finally clenched in pain. The White Tower was one of the most prominent buildings in the Danding Sword Sect, housing the disciples of the Hao Sword Regiment—orphans Yang Hao had brought from the planet Remon. They had lived together like family, as close as brothers and sisters.
Yet now, Yang Hao saw the White Tower filled with cries of agony. Nearly every member of the Hao Sword Regiment lay on the ground, each injured to some degree. A few were severely wounded, lying unconscious in pools of blood.
“What happened?!” Yang Hao’s hands trembled with fury.
At the sight of him, the Hao Sword Regiment members rushed over, some of the girls bursting into loud sobs first: “Regiment Leader, Regiment Leader, you’re finally back! We… we’re all hurt, some of us badly…”
Yang Hao gritted his teeth, surveying the injured disciples around him. Though none were in mortal danger, they would need a long time to recover. His heart ached as if cut by a knife. Ever since he had brought these orphans from Remon, he had nurtured them carefully, never letting them face danger, hoping they would one day inherit the legacy of the Danding Sect.
But now, someone had dared to harm these children—touching Yang Hao’s most sensitive nerve and igniting his rage.
“What exactly happened?” Yang Hao comforted the more severely injured while several doctors tended to them, then pulled aside a less wounded disciple to ask, “How did things end up like this?”
The disciple replied, “Regiment Leader, after you left today, Elder Zhuge sent an urgent message saying something major had happened at the corporation and they needed reinforcements. So Long Yun and Maya took the Promise Squad and rushed over.”
Yang Hao frowned. The Danding Corporation had always focused solely on business, avoiding unnecessary trouble. Moreover, Zhuge Jian was shrewd and capable—if he had sent an urgent call for help, something truly serious must have happened at the corporation.
“Not long after Long Yun left with the squad, a group of swordsmen in golden robes stormed into the sect and started causing chaos,” the disciple continued. “There were about fifty of them, all swordsmen. The newly recruited disciples saw how aggressive they were and fled in an instant. Only we stood our ground in front of the White Tower for a while.”
“Did they injure you?” Yang Hao already knew the answer. Who else but the Ten Sword Streams would mobilize so many swordsmen at once? What infuriated him most was those damned nobles—when the sect was in trouble, they had fled without hesitation. Only the Hao Sword Regiment would truly fight the Ten Sword Streams to the death.
But now, Yang Hao saw chaos and suffering inside the White Tower. The members of the Hao Sword Group were almost all lying on the ground, each one injured to varying degrees. Some were seriously hurt, lying in pools of blood, unconscious.
“What the hell happened?!” Yang Hao shouted, his hands trembling with rage.
When they saw Yang Hao arrive, members of the Hao Sword Group rushed over. Several girls began sobbing loudly: “Commander! Commander! You’re finally back! We… we’re all injured, some are hurt really badly…”
Sure enough, something was seriously wrong. The Danding Sword Sect had recently taken in so many noble disciples, most of whom had no real interest in learning swordsmanship—they were just here to gild their reputations and maybe score some aphrodisiacs. Normally, they would gather near the sect’s main gate, idly chatting and bickering.
But today, no one was gathered there. Even the few stragglers around were slinking toward the gate, not even greeting Yang Hao when they saw him.
When Yang Hao entered the White Tower, his already uneasy heart finally clenched in pain. The White Tower was one of the most prominent buildings in the Danding Sword Sect, housing the disciples of the Hao Sword Corps—orphans Yang Hao had brought from the planet Remon. They had lived together like brothers and sisters, bound by deep camaraderie.
Yet now, Yang Hao saw the White Tower filled with cries of agony. Nearly every member of the Hao Sword Corps lay on the ground, each bearing injuries of varying severity. Some were gravely wounded, lying unconscious in pools of blood.
“What happened?!” Yang Hao’s hands trembled with fury.
At the sight of him, the members of the Hao Sword Corps rushed forward, some of the girls bursting into sobs. “Captain… Captain, you’re finally back! We… we’re all hurt… some of us are really badly injured…”
Yang Hao gritted his teeth, surveying the wounded around him. Though none were in mortal danger, many would need a long time to recover. The pain in his heart was unbearable. Ever since he had brought these orphans from Remon, he had nurtured them carefully, never letting them face danger, hoping they would one day inherit the legacy of the Danding Sect.
But now, someone had dared to harm these children—touching Yang Hao’s deepest fury, igniting his rage.
“What exactly happened?” After comforting the more severely injured—some medics were already tending to them—he pulled aside a less wounded disciple and asked, “How did things turn out like this?”
The disciple replied, “Captain, after you left today, Elder Zhuge sent an urgent message saying the corporation was in serious trouble and needed reinforcements. So Long Yun and Maya took the Promise Team and rushed over.”
Yang Hao frowned. The Danding Corporation had always focused on business and avoided unnecessary conflicts. If even Zhuge Jian—a man known for his diplomatic skill—had sent an urgent call for help, the situation must be dire.
“Not long after Long Yun and the others left, a group of swordsmen in golden robes stormed into the sect and started causing havoc,” the disciple continued. “There were about fifty of them, all swordsmen. The new disciples we recently recruited saw how aggressive they were and fled immediately. Only we, standing in front of the White Tower, tried to hold them off.”
“They did this to you?” Yang Hao already knew the answer. Who else but the Ten Sword Streams would mobilize so many swordsmen at once? What infuriated him most was how those damned nobles had fled at the first sign of trouble, leaving only the Hao Sword Corps to fight the Ten Sword Streams to the death.
But now, someone had dared to injure all these children, directly touching Yang Hao’s most sensitive nerve, igniting his fury.
“What exactly happened?” Yang Hao gently comforted those with more severe injuries—several medics were already tending to them—then pulled aside a lightly wounded disciple to ask, “How did it come to this?”
The disciple replied, “After you left today, an urgent communique came from Elder Zhuge, saying there was a major incident at the corporation and they needed immediate backup. So Long Yun and Maya took the Vow Squad and rushed out to help.”
Yang Hao frowned. The Dan Ding Corporation had always focused solely on business and avoided unnecessary conflicts. Moreover, Elder Zhuge was known for his smooth diplomacy and strong capabilities. If he had sent an urgent request for support, something really serious must have happened at the corporation.
“Shortly after Long Yun left with his team, a group of swordsmen wearing golden robes arrived,” the disciple continued. “They stormed into the sect and started causing chaos. There were more than fifty of them, all swordsmen. The new disciples we recently accepted, seeing how aggressively they came in, scattered and fled immediately. Only we resisted a little before the White Tower.”
“They were the ones who injured you?” Yang Hao already knew the answer. For such a large group of swordsmen to strike at once, who else could it be other than the Ten Sword Stream? What a shame those damned nobles had run away the moment their sect was in trouble. Only the Hao Sword Group had stood up and fought the Ten Sword Stream head-on.
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