Chapter 81: The True Pill Versus the False Pill

If one were to ask who was the most infamous traitor of this dynasty, there could be no other answer than Lü Cunwen, the Red Lotus Sect Master. In the past ten years, he alone had provoked over a hundred uprisings among the common people in Shaanxi and Shandong, costing the court untold amounts of wealth and manpower, yet he remained elusive and unvanquished—a testament to his cunning and resourcefulness.

But if the question were instead: who is the most wicked man of this era? Lü Cunwen would not be the one. That title belonged to none other than Ren Xie, the Master of the Valley of Villains. In the martial world, whenever one spoke of massacres, the eradication of entire clans, illicit silver, hired assassins, black markets, weapon smuggling—any filthy, unspeakable deed—tracing the roots would inevitably lead to a subtle, nearly invisible thread pointing back to that sinister haven: the Valley of Villains, ruled by Ren Xie.

Ren Xie's origins were shrouded in mystery. Neither the Six Doors nor the Embroidered Guards had ever uncovered his true identity. All that was known was that twenty years ago, he erupted onto the martial scene with thunderous force, subduing countless villains and scoundrels, founding his own faction—the Valley of Villains—and from then on, he committed every evil imaginable, killing indiscriminately, sending tremors through both the righteous and the wicked alike.

Zhou Qian had once, by chance, entered the secret archives of the Six Doors and read Ren Xie’s file. The clues and evidence, gathered at the cost of many lives, had led the divine detectives to two conjectures. The first supposed that, twenty years ago, Ren Xie had been an utter nobody, who by a stroke of luck encountered a wondrous opportunity, gained the favor of the immortals, and soared to greatness. This theory was hotly debated even within the Six Doors: his martial prowess was so supreme as to be unmatched in the land—how could he have attained such skill? A swordsman hones his art by testing his blade against all comers, a blade master sharpens his technique through countless beheadings—true martial mastery cannot be achieved behind closed doors. All the great experts of the martial world carved their legend through bloodshed, yet no one, neither in the martial world nor among the court’s men, could recognize the forms or techniques Ren Xie used.

The second conjecture was even more alarming: that Ren Xie was once an immortal, who for reasons unknown had fled to the mortal realm, relying on celestial arts to rise to power. Yet doubts remained—though Ren Xie possessed some remarkable skills, the might of an immortal, who could overturn rivers and seas, was far beyond his abilities. If he truly were of that caliber, the emperor’s head would long ago have been lopped off by a flying sword.

As Zhou Qian’s thoughts raced, the four streams of black energy behind Ren Xie shot towards him like lightning. The Ghostmaster Sword danced in Zhou’s hands, colliding with the black energy a dozen times in an instant. The force of the impact was like cannon fire, numbing Zhou Qian’s hands. This black energy was far beyond mortal means, yet still fell short of true immortal arts.

Fortunately, Zhou Qian was no ordinary man. He did not retreat but advanced, his legs pulsing with blood and energy, inner force exploding with every step. Each footfall sent ripples across the water, the waves swirling into lotus shapes as he moved, step by step, each lotus birthing a sword strike—

Ren Xie frowned, muttering to himself that this youth was troublesome. With a flick of his waist, a golden serpent-soft sword appeared in his hand, and he moved to meet the attack.

Zhou Qian was astonished—he had not encountered a true swordsman in a long time. To speak without modesty, under the renown of the Two Sword Immortals of the Zhou clan, few dared to draw their blade.

The soft sword darted like a venomous serpent, attacking from impossible angles. Yet the Ghostmaster Sword spun a web of seamless swordlight, leaving no gap unguarded. One was a notorious overlord of the underworld, his reputation fearsome; the other, a rising star of the martial world, his sword art exquisite. One’s attack was fierce and domineering, his black energy coiling like a toxic dragon; the other’s technique was subtle and refined, his sword aura cold and sharp. Zhou Qian and Ren Xie fought to a standstill, evenly matched!

Zhou Qian’s eyes blazed, his delight growing with each exchange. For once, he faced an opponent worthy of his full devotion. There might be others in the world with similar cultivation, but those who could truly match his swordplay were exceedingly rare. Now that he had found such a rival, how could he not unleash all he had learned in his life?

The swordlight grew ever more elusive. It flickered into being and vanished around Zhou’s body, the sword’s momentum as oppressive as dark clouds. Then, with a sudden shift, the clouds parted, and a white line pierced through the four streams of black energy, stopping but half a foot from Ren Xie’s abdomen. Shocked, Ren Xie retreated a dozen yards, sweat beading on his forehead. Some grow more reckless the longer they wield a sword, while others become hesitant; that is the gulf between a sword master and a mere swordsman, or, one might say, the difference between a madman and an ordinary man. Clearly, Ren Xie had suffered a secret loss. Zhou Qian nodded, “The rumors are true—you do have a connection to the Sword Immortals. When you wield your sword, you unconsciously use techniques of sword control.”

That was Zhou Qian’s insight after observing the Mysterious Yin Sword Manual.

“You dare speak of sword control?” Ren Xie seemed to have been stung to the quick, and roared in fury, “What use is mortal swordsmanship, no matter how refined? Can it defy the heavens, traverse the earth? Such arrogant words from a mere mortal! I will show you true celestial arts!”

“Black Serpent!” With a roar from Ren Xie, the four streams of black energy churned and twisted, finally merging into a great black python. Zhou Qian’s face changed—the serpent’s eyes glared and its tongue flicked, and for a moment, Zhou felt incapable of resisting.

“Rise, water!” Ren Xie formed a series of seals and pointed a finger. The surface beneath Zhou Qian’s feet suddenly boiled, and two ropes of water shot out, binding his ankles. At the same moment, the black python lunged at him—Zhou Qian was instantly thrust into mortal peril!

Yet his reactions were swift. Drawing a breath, his energy surged and his bones crackled as his body transformed into that of a burly giant, his weight doubling, his ankles thickening. With a mighty heave, the water ropes snapped under his mass and strength, dissolving into a splash. Zhou’s body dropped heavily, barely evading the killing strike.

Just then, a great wave swept over, and Zhou dove into its midst, hiding his figure. As the black python prowled about, the Ghostmaster Sword struck with all its might, but found only empty air.

“You think mundane iron can break true sorcery?” Ren Xie sneered.

Zhou Qian was startled, darting through the lotus stems, wary of Ren Xie’s bizarre spells. Ren Xie’s fingers formed seals as he chanted incantations. Clear water continually transformed into blades, spears, axes, and halberds, attacking from all sides, while the great python pursued from behind—a dire situation indeed.

As the two dueled, the water itself began to change. Black shadows flashed and leapt—one underworld blade wielder, caught unawares, was swallowed whole from behind by a beast, never to rise again.

Zhou Qian started, his heart tightening. Enemies surrounded him on all sides; even the waters below were unsafe. Strange aquatic beasts leapt from the depths, their forms unrecorded even in the Compendium of Exotic Beasts.

Zhou did not recognize them, but Ren Xie did—and was aghast. “Why is the spirit of the Tiger-Jawed Shark from Primeval Isle here?”

Two fathoms long, four feet wide, horned head, fish body, serpent tail, jagged fangs—a hybrid of tiger, shark, and dragon—

Ren Xie knew well the ferocity of these beasts: bloodthirsty, vengeful, never resting until their foes were dead. Even ordinary Sword Immortals dared not provoke them. Perhaps inheriting the nature of true dragons, when grown they could summon demonic mists to soar through the air—a fearsome adversary.

The Tiger-Jawed Sharks leapt and hunted, throwing the battlefield into chaos. Friend and foe became indistinguishable; even the tactic of diving into the water for escape was now untenable. For reasons unknown, the path of survival had become perilous.

Two figures suddenly burst from the water, landing on a lotus near Zhou Qian.

Zhou’s face brightened. “General Li, why have you two only just arrived?”

Dodging a sweep of swordlight, the Judge’s Brush tapped frantically as its wielder spoke, “The two of us were burned to death by the dragon’s fire and forced out the exit. It took us quite a while to find our way back in. Why is the situation so chaotic now? Even the water beasts have joined the fray! I didn’t encounter any when I was forced from the formation!”

Zhou shook his head, just about to speak, when Li Guangzhi’s expression darkened. “You changed the formation! This is a sign that the Gate of Life is turning into the Gate of Death!”

“The Gate of Life is turning into the Gate of Death?” Zhou was shocked, moving swiftly across the waves to avoid the black serpent’s attack, shattering a water arrow with a backhanded sword strike.

“The Lesser Eight Trigrams Formation is meant to entrap the enemy, but now with so many dead from both black and white factions, the murderous energy has shifted the formation’s trajectory. I didn’t ambush the underworld forces earlier for this very reason—Celestial Supervisor Yuan Daoist warned me repeatedly. Yet it seems we cannot avoid this fate.”

“Can it be undone?” Zhou asked urgently.

“Before the Gate of Life fully turns to Death, break the formation’s core and there may yet be hope!” Li Guangzhi nodded.

“Unfortunately, it seems too late for that,” Zhou said with a wry smile. The black and white factions were already locked in a frenzy, murderous intent surging to the heavens—no one could stop it, nor would anyone dare. The enmity between good and evil has never been merely words; who would wish, or dare, to bear such guilt?

“Since we cannot quench the boiling pot, we may as well pour oil onto the flames!” Zhou Qian laughed, his steps sending splashes across the water. “Master Ren, if this is the full extent of your skill, then you truly are no match for me!”

Ren Xie sneered, “Such arrogance from a junior. We are both at the Core Formation stage, with experience exceeding yours a hundredfold. I command the arts of the immortals—how can you hope to defeat me?”

“Because my core is true, and yours is false. That is how I will defeat you!”

“How can there be true or false in Core Formation?”

“Of course there is. The true core is like a dragon; the false, like a serpent. The true core is founded on life and driven by essence, reversing the flow of blood and energy, merging spirit, energy, and form into one. Entering the realm of stillness, one seizes the opportunity for boundless life. Not yet immortal, but already on the path. The false core, like a serpent, is forged by pills and secret arts, seemingly powerful but lacking foundation. Master Ren, I can see you were once of the Sword Immortal line, but you imitate immortals without being one, and fail as a man among men. For that alone, I am sure to win!”

“You dare court death!” Ren Xie raged. Memories flashed of his master’s words before he fled his sect: “You look down on juniors, so you cannot become righteous. You fear your betters, so you cannot become a villain. You resent one, fear another—there is no freedom in your heart, nor any will to kill. There is no place for you among our kind!”

I am the Master of the Valley of Villains, with unmatched power! I am the overlord of the underworld, revered by all! I am of the immortal path, with life everlasting! I refuse! I refuse!

With a sudden gush of blood, the black serpent swelled, its body churning, a small horn sprouting from its head, four legs forming beneath. At this moment, Ren Xie comprehended the essence of the Beast Commanding Dragon Control Formula.

“You say I am not a true dragon? Then I shall become one before your eyes!” Ren Xie was wild with madness, his face twisted and demonic.

“Treasure, aid me!” Zhou Qian whispered, pouring all his true energy into the Fire-Pearl. The pearl glowed faintly, the Ghostmaster Sword burning with crimson flame—this was the Fire of Departure, the Fire of the Southern Heavens, the Primal Fire, the Dragon’s Flame.

Heaven and earth shook as dragon and serpent clashed on the wilds, blood staining sky and ground. The serpent sought to devour the dragon and change fate; the dragon strove to slay the serpent and restore order. Here and now, Zhou Qian and Ren Xie battled atop the great marsh—was this not destiny?

Sword and serpent met—who could say who would master the vastness of heaven and earth…