Chapter Eleven: The Grand Elder Arrives

Mu Renxing saw the attack coming and felt a faint tension rise within him—after all, his opponent’s cultivation was at the mid-stage of the Four Mystical Realms. He summoned his sword and channeled his inner energy to block.

Suddenly, a flash of cold light streaked by, and the sword’s radiance shot straight for his lower dantian. His eyes bulged wide, mouth agape, ready to scream in agony—only to realize that the flying sword had not pierced his body at all, nor did he feel any pain.

He was just puzzling over this when his expression suddenly changed. The flying sword, with uncanny precision, struck his dantian again and again, tapping it a hundred times in an instant. The mystical energy surging from his dantian felt abruptly severed, unable to flow.

Without energy to support it, his own sword plummeted from the air at once. In that moment, hundreds upon hundreds of spectral souls rushed forward and crashed into his head.

Mu Renxing felt as if his mind exploded—blood spurted from all five senses as he collapsed limply to the ground.

“You… you…”

“How dare you?”

From the moment Su Yizhao summoned his sword to this very instant, barely a breath had passed. By the time Huang Guiming and Liu Qinwu realized what was happening, Mu Renxing's soul had been scattered, dying a miserable death on the spot.

Su Yizhao’s expression did not change. He formed a hand seal with his right hand.

“Ah, you’re courting death!”

“Mercy! Spare me!”

Among the countless wailing souls, two agonized cries rang out.

Su Yizhao turned and sped away, thinking to himself, “Gold-ranked Disciplinary Disciple Su Yizhao has accomplished his task!”

As for the three men's storage pouches, it would be a lie to say he felt no temptation. The trio hailed from the main sect and possessed deep backgrounds. Those pouches must surely contain many spirit stones, elixirs, perhaps even a fourth-grade sword manual—all things he urgently needed.

But he dared not touch them.

“To walk away from such rich spoils is truly harder than finishing the mission itself,” he sighed softly, gradually approaching the space where Li Xiuemoon awaited.

“What are we waiting for? Honestly, I’m not even sure we should advise you to part ways with Su Yizhao at this point,” Mu Qingqing and the others watched the tunnel with troubled expressions.

Li Xiuemoon feigned composure. “Naturally, we’re waiting for his return. I have no desire to see those three at all.”

“Are you sure the one returning will be him, and not the three emissaries?” a cultivator from Ningjiang City suddenly interjected.

“Absolutely certain,” Li Xiuemoon replied without hesitation. “His eyes are so bright—how could he possibly let me down?”

The cultivator seemed perplexed. Just because his eyes were bright, he wouldn’t disappoint her? What kind of logic was that?

Just then, an urgent voice sounded.

“Quick, run!”

Everyone turned toward the direction of the shout and saw a figure darting from the opposite tunnel. When Li Xiuemoon recognized him, her face changed dramatically. The newcomer’s robe was in disarray, his face deathly pale, eyes vacant, hair wild—he looked utterly deranged, nothing like a cultivator.

“Brother Yizhao?” she blurted out at once.

Su Yizhao noticed the shock on everyone’s faces and silently chuckled, but his own face wore an expression of terror as he urgently cried, “Hurry, run! More wraiths have appeared—the three emissaries are holding them off behind us!”

With that, he grabbed Li Xiuemoon and raced out of the tunnel.

“Will the three emissaries be all right?” Ma Liangcai, the cultivator from Ningjiang City, asked worriedly upon returning to the Gate of Mystical Energy.

Su Yizhao did his best to appear uneasy and said, “They should be fine. The three emissaries are far stronger than any of us.”

“Yes, yes, let’s wait here for them then,” someone echoed.

Su Yizhao stood at the entrance, keeping them company. Of course, the three emissaries would never return.

They waited for two or three hours, then dispersed in disappointment. Only then did Su Yizhao breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

Seated cross-legged in his room, he reminded himself that his challenges were not yet over—he still had to face the Grand Elder.

Suddenly, he glanced toward the door. Li Xiuemoon, clad in a white dress, stood outside, her exquisite features tinged with doubt.

Su Yizhao rose to his feet. He knew that deceiving others might be possible, but deceiving Li Xiuemoon was another matter entirely—at least, not this time.

“Was what you said true?” Li Xiuemoon asked softly.

“It was false,” he replied earnestly.

“What was true, then?”

“I cannot tolerate anyone offending you, not even in words. That is true.”

Li Xiuemoon considered his words for a moment, then suddenly broke into a radiant smile, lighting up the room.

“I understand,” she said gently. “Those three deserved to die. Don’t worry, I’ll ask my master to intervene—she’ll make sure you come to no harm.”

Su Yizhao was genuinely touched, but could only force a wry smile. “Could you perhaps not have your master come see me? My cultivation has already recovered—I couldn’t be better.”

Li Xiuemoon giggled. “No, no, with such a formidable Dao-companion, of course I must let my master know right away. Who knows? She might even admit you directly into the main sect!”

“I’m afraid she’d kill me with one stroke,” Su Yizhao thought to himself, but could only smile bitterly and say, “Very well, then I’d better prepare myself.”

“Prepare? Prepare for what? Remember, apart from the death of those three, you mustn’t lie—my master is lethal to liars!”

Su Yizhao’s face grew even more troubled.

After seeing Li Xiuemoon out, he closed the door and sat quietly. The object that made his heart race still rested in his storage pouch—the orb radiating a purple glow. What could it be?

He held it in his right hand. Instantly, his whole body flooded with comfort.

“Is this a supreme-grade spirit stone?” He wasn’t sure, never having seen one before.

This little sphere seemed to be related to souls.

He gazed at the orb, sighed, and put it back into the pouch. It was best not to use something unknown on a whim.

He suddenly realized he had nothing to do.

His cultivation could not improve. His spells had reached perfection. It is said that a cultivator is either in cultivation or on the way to cultivation, yet now he found himself utterly bored.

Fortunately, three days later, the Grand Elder finally arrived.

He was startled upon seeing her.

He had imagined the Grand Elder of the main sect would be white-haired, bearded, and imposing. To his surprise, she was a stunningly beautiful middle-aged woman.

But one thing he guessed right—the authority she exuded.

At that moment, the Gate Master, Wan Gaofei, stood respectfully at her side, while all others—including the formidable head of the Disciplinary Hall, Liu Yushan—could only wait at a distance.

Li Xiuemoon, Mu Qingqing, and Huang Rong’er stood respectfully behind her.

Su Yizhao exchanged a glance with Li Xiuemoon and saw the warning “be careful” in her eyes.

He could not help but feel a bit tense.

Though he was no stranger to peril or the edge of death, this was the first time he faced someone of such cultivation.

The only words to describe her were: unfathomable.

Though she sat in plain sight, his spiritual senses could not latch onto her presence.

All his years executing missions, his sword never missed a target. And yet, facing her, he could not even find the target.

The contradiction of this sensation pressed so hard on his chest he nearly coughed up blood.

Just as he considered averting his gaze, the Grand Elder’s melodious voice rang out: “You are Su Yizhao?”

Every muscle in his body tensed. He dared not look away.