Chapter Eighty-Four: Soaring Across Heaven and Earth

Mo Yan Sword was true to its name. The blade at the hilt was unlike other swords—where most were sleek and streamlined, this one was oddly shaped, almost resembling a sickle. Lin Feng knew well that such a blade was the most lethal; wounds made by it would be difficult to heal. The sheath, too, was peculiar—paired with this famed sword, it seemed to exude an unending aura of menace.

He gazed up at the ethereal sky, then down at the sword in his hands. With a sigh, he simply sat down upon the vast square, seeking to comprehend the object-control chapter within the Art of Spirit Command.

Half an hour passed, then an hour, then three. The Mo Yan Sword lay motionless across his knees, unresponsive whether he infused it with spiritual power or tried to will it aloft—even the thought of riding it through the air seemed impossibly far off.

He rose to stretch his limbs, then walked over to the massive square cauldron, lifting his gaze to study it. The ancient bronze vessel was mottled with verdigris and etched with cranes and auspicious clouds. Upon it were two indistinct, archaic characters: “Essence Gatherer.” At each of the cauldron’s four feet was a chain as thick as an arm, anchoring it to the ground, likewise rusted by the passage of time.

Time flies. From a street beggar, to a sect prodigy, then to a fallen disciple—eleven years of hardship, even a brush with death, had finally brought him to this day. Lin Feng muttered quietly to himself, stretching out his hand to touch the cold cauldron.

Dust fell like rain, and the brilliance hidden beneath the bronze gradually emerged. He smiled faintly, then walked toward the edge of the platform.

The sea of clouds stretched on in the distance. He sat quietly, watching the myriad hues of sunset rise in the west. A sudden clarity filled his heart, and he thought again of that morning, of the lively, bright smile in Serpent Vine Valley.

“At the very least, I should move freely, should I not?”

“Yes, how I wish I could be like my senior brothers, coming and going without needing to be escorted…” He sighed, glancing at the Mo Yan Sword lying beside him. He waved his hand absently, then turned his gaze back to the depths of the clouds.

Hummm—a gentle, melodious sound. The sword quivered as if startled.

In that moment, surprise widened his eyes and left his mouth agape.

“So, the art of object control is truly so simple.”

Grasping the Mo Yan Sword, Lin Feng relaxed his mind and silently recited the incantation. Then, as if greeting a friend, he waved his hand lightly.

Clang—the sword spun before him, its dark light dazzling the eye. With a thought, the Mo Yan Sword hovered steadily in the air.

He stepped onto it, but with a crash, both Lin Feng and the sword tumbled to the ground, limbs flailing in all directions.

“Thank goodness no one saw that—pah, pah!” He spat out several mouthfuls of dust, gathered himself, and focused his mind. “I must move with ease, control the sword, not be too hasty… relax, relax…”

At last, he managed to stand shakily on the sword. Yet when it came time to take a step, he simply couldn’t bring himself to move. He steadied himself, remaining in place for half an incense stick’s time before cautiously urging the sword forward.

Once hesitant, now increasingly adept, he soon glided freely across the square, his movements growing smoother and faster. Up and down, left and right, accelerating and halting—like a fish in the sea, he soared and danced with abandon.

With a resounding crack, the Mo Yan Sword blazed with dark brilliance, piercing the clouds and shooting straight into the heavens. The vast cloud-sea whipped at his robes, the peaks and grand halls receded into the distance, and he soared alone amidst the blue sky and sea of clouds, exultant beyond compare.

The shrill wind keened as he flew, blue expanse filling his vision; the upturned sky lay beneath his feet, as if he were striding across the ocean. He rolled, spun, hung suspended—heaven was no longer distant, the earth no longer far; all was within reach in an instant.

With a whistle, Lin Feng landed upon the Cloud Terrace of Heaven-Pillar Peak, sheathing his sword, his heart still pounding.

“Master surely didn’t expect me back so soon. Heh, let’s see what treasure he’s prepared for me.”

Bathed in radiant light, his tall and graceful figure cast a long shadow.

“Why are you back so late?” Yan Dongjue’s sharp gaze pinned him in place, instantly quelling Lin Feng’s smug sense of accomplishment.

“Master, I… I’ve only just mastered sword-riding and came back as quickly as I could,” he replied meekly.

“Hmph, blockhead! Here—this is the Xuanheng Jade Disc I procured for you from Sea Mirage Pavilion, and the method to open it.” Yan Dongjue spoke with a chill in his tone, as if someone had once again provoked his ire.

“Thank you, Master.” Lin Feng received the two items with both hands, delight flooding his heart.

“Next month, you and Lian Huanzhong of Dragon Soaring Peak will descend the mountain together and travel to Bozhou,” Yan Dongjue said, dismissively waving his hand.

“Ah!” Lin Feng was overjoyed—he had long awaited the chance to leave the mountain and journey abroad.

Back in his quarters, he could hardly wait to examine the Xuanheng Jade Disc. It was smooth and lustrous as a pearl, coin-sized, unadorned and unremarkable to the eye. According to the instructions, he tested every object on his person, putting them into and retrieving them from this mustard-seed pouch. Even the massive Snow Pear Blossom Spear fit inside with ease—the magic was astonishing.

“Wait a moment, if you put me inside, who will speak with you?” As Lin Feng reached for the glass prayer beads at his bedside, Li Chi protested hastily.

“Hmm, you’re right. You’re still of some use. I’ll keep you nearby for now. By the way, do you think I can unlock this golden leaf now?” Lin Feng asked eagerly.

“Can’t you try it yourself?” Li Chi retorted.

“Fine, I’ll try.” Lin Feng replied, a little annoyed.

Following the prescribed steps, he tried three or five times, but the golden leaf showed no sign of opening, lying unchanged in his palm.

“Strange, is the incantation wrong? Perhaps that’s it. The Yin Dynasty sect’s techniques are different from ours in the Hundred Flowers Sect. Looks like this thing is useless.” Shaking his head in disappointment, he put the golden leaf into the Xuanheng Jade Disc.

After organizing all his belongings and practicing the Art of Spirit Command several more times, he realized dawn was already breaking—another sleepless night had passed unawares.

“I’ve only just reached early Foundation Establishment. Compared to my senior brothers, I have far to go. I must intensify my cultivation.” After washing by Moonlit Lake, he placed the Mo Yan Sword on his palm, eyes blazing with resolve. Suddenly, he raised his hand—at his will, the sword sang out.

The blade flashed, its dark light slicing toward the lake’s heart. With a bang, a great wave exploded, drenching him head to toe.

“Haha, killing with the sword is no more difficult than this!” He laughed aloud, raising his hand to recall the Mo Yan Sword.

A furious shout rang out, “How can you hope to achieve the Great Dao if you indulge yourself so shamelessly and grow arrogant?”

The Mo Yan Sword spun and flew into Yan Dongjue’s hand.

“Master!” Cold sweat broke out down Lin Feng’s back as he leapt to his feet, face flushed, head bowed, unable to speak.

“With your meager cultivation, you’re only fit to bully those in the Qi Refinement stage. Get back to diligent practice!” Yan Dongjue flung his sleeve, tossing the sword to the ground, and left.

It was a long time before Lin Feng dared to lift his head. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow and picked up his sword. Just as he was about to leave, something caught his eye.

“What’s this? Did Master drop it?” He picked it up and studied it closely, his heart pounding faster than before. On the iron slip, four large seal characters were engraved: Sword Manual to Sever Immortals!

Yan Dongjue’s signature sword technique, renowned for its power when used with the Ten Absolutes Sword—few sword arts in the world could rival its ferocity. During the fierce battle with the Unfettered Demon Lord, this technique had amazed the sect; only the sect leader's divine skill surpassed it. It was an art to be revered from afar.

“Why would Master deliberately leave this sword manual here? Does he wish for me to learn it?” After considering for a moment, Lin Feng decided to study it—opportunity seldom comes unbidden.

The Sever Immortal Sword Manual was the polar opposite of the Phantom Cloud Sword Manual—its theory and methods utterly at odds. Where the former was all force and aggression, each strike meant to draw blood, mastery began only at the point of unity between sword and self. It even seemed to share something with the Tyrant Force. “To sever immortals and destroy demons, only those with unwavering will may cultivate this art.” So read the fine script at the end of the iron slip.

“I’ve already died once—what have I to fear?” He put the iron slip away and immersed himself in studying each sword form.

Morning and evening, he practiced the two sword arts for an hour apiece; the rest of his time was devoted either to cultivating the Art of Spirit Command or to other Daoist incantations. The Literary Pavilion housed many books on cultivation, broadening Lin Feng’s horizons—he often read until daybreak. Yan Dongjue would occasionally inquire about his progress, but seemed utterly unconcerned that Lin Feng was studying the Sever Immortal Sword Manual.

A month later, atop Heaven-Pillar Peak’s Cloud Terrace, Lian Huanzhong mounted his sword beside Lin Feng, and together they pierced the heavens.

Hovering above Heaven’s Gate Peak, Lin Feng gazed down at the familiar scene below, feeling as if caught in a dream. The emotions surging within him could not be stilled.

“Junior brother, do you wish to visit old friends?” Lian Huanzhong asked with a smile.

“Indeed, senior brother, please wait a moment—I’ll be right back.” Their business would take them to Bozhou, capital of medicine, thousands of miles away. Yet with sword-flight, they would arrive in a day; time was ample.

“No problem, take your time. I’ll go have a few bowls of Celestial Drunk at the tea stall—we’ll meet up shortly.” Lian Huanzhong winked at him, then whistled away.

“Heh, another wine-lover.” Lin Feng laughed, descending on his sword to the mountain’s peak.