Chapter 81: Wagering the Immortal Sword in Mount Goulou

Delighted at heart, Xiyan quickened her pace and sped into the woods ahead like a gust of wind, her figure darting through the night with the ghostly grace of a phantom—so swift and agile that it was a sight to behold.

After racing several hundred steps into the forest, the sound of fighting suddenly reached her ears, accompanied by the intermittent cries of a young boy.

What’s going on?

Could something unexpected have happened up ahead?

Murmuring in surprise, Xiyan hastened another fifty meters forward, only to be greeted by a scene that defied all reason.

For some unknown reason, the antlered monster had thrown the child aside and was now engaged in combat with a creature that had the body of a monkey and the face of a man.

A Shansao?

Staring at the nimble form dodging deftly before her, Xiyan was deeply shocked.

Why had a Shansao suddenly appeared here? And from its actions, it seemed to be trying to save someone. Could it be, as Luoying had said, that this Shansao was their true guardian spirit?

As she watched in secret, the situation on the field changed again.

The Shansao, who had been evenly matched with the antlered monster, was suddenly flung away by the long sleeve of the monster’s Daoist robe. Its back slammed into the thick trunk of an ancient tree, and the impact sent it sprawling helplessly to the ground, struggling even to rise.

“Antlered monster, how dare you resort to dirty tricks!” the Shansao shouted in a childlike voice, full of fury.

“Heh heh,” the antlered monster sneered, shaking out his robe and striding over with a sly grin. “If I didn’t use a little yin-yang sleeve trickery, I might not have been able to beat you tonight!”

“And tell me, Shansao, are you just looking for trouble? We’ve all cultivated peacefully in these mountains for years—why must you thwart me?”

“Peacefully?” The Shansao glared at the antlered monster, retorting indignantly, “You go down to Mount Goulu to catch humans for your own pleasure, then try to pin the blame on me—and now you talk of peace?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The antlered monster shook his head with a sinister grin, feigning regret. “We’ve both cultivated in Mount Goulu for centuries—though we never became close due to our differences, we were never sworn enemies either.”

“But tonight, I have no choice but to kill you. You have only yourself to blame for not knowing your place and nearly ruining Lord Fuyao’s plans.”

“Who exactly is Fuyao? Why does a mighty antlered monster like you willingly serve him?” The Shansao, lying weakly on the ground with blood trickling from his lips and pooling onto the earth, managed to ask with a fading voice. His dazed eyes seemed to foretell his imminent death.

“You are not worthy to know Lord Fuyao’s identity. Even I, the Antlered Immortal Elder, must obey him—imagine how exalted his status must be! Someone like you, a mere forest spirit, has no right to ask!”

“Is that so? I wonder, does my identity qualify me to inquire about Fuyao?” Just as the antlered monster was basking in pride, a melodious voice as clear as an oriole’s song rang out behind him, startlingly out of place in the tranquil night.

“Who’s there?” The antlered monster spun around in alarm, only to see, beneath the ancient tree in the moonlight, a stunning young girl of sixteen or seventeen.

The bright moonlight slanted down behind her, highlighting her tall, slender figure and accentuating her graceful curves. Her snow-white, floor-length robe was adorned with delicate pink plum blossoms, and her exquisite oval face was rendered even colder and more striking by the pale glow.

What astonished the antlered monster most was how lightly this girl had appeared; with all his centuries of cultivation, he hadn’t sensed her presence at all. Clearly, her power surpassed his own.

“Who are you, and why do you appear in Mount Goulu in the dead of night?”

“You are not worthy to know my identity,” Xiyan replied, mimicking the antlered monster’s earlier tone. “You, a mere antlered spirit, are hardly fit to inquire after the name of this immortal lady!”

“Insolence!” The antlered monster’s face darkened as he roared, “Where did you come from, you wild wench, to dare speak to me so rudely?”

“And you, a petty antlered monster, dare call yourself an immortal elder? A man needs dignity like a tree needs bark—truly, you are shameless!”

“You’ll pay for that!” The antlered monster, never having suffered such humiliation, howled furiously and charged at her before Xiyan’s smile could even fade.

“Wait!” Xiyan remained calm, raising a slender jade arm to halt him. “Antlered monster, I watched you fight the Shansao just now—you have some skill. Dare you wager with me?”

“A wager?” The antlered monster stopped in his tracks, scratching his head with curiosity. “And why should I wager with you?”

“Because of this immortal sword in my hand. How about it?” As she spoke, Xiyan made a subtle gesture, and a slender, razor-sharp sword, thin as a cicada’s wing, flashed into being in her hand.

The antlered monster’s eyes lit up with greed as he examined the blade. “Your sword is wreathed in spiritual energy—thin, sharp, a true immortal weapon. But what do you propose we wager?”

A cold smile flickered in Xiyan’s heart. How foolish this antlered monster was, falling for her ruse so easily.

She replied without a change in expression, “Simple. We duel fair and square. If you win, the sword is yours. If you lose, you must answer some questions honestly. How about that?”

“Just answer questions? That’s all?” The antlered monster looked at her in disbelief, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

“That’s all,” Xiyan replied calmly and confidently.

“Very well!” The antlered monster clapped his hands with delight. “Since you’ve issued the challenge, don’t blame me for being merciless!”

“Enough talk. Let’s begin!” Xiyan said, drawing her Remnant Snow Sword in a defensive arc, her almond eyes fixed intently on the antlered monster, ready for any sudden attack or attempt at escape.

Of course, such precautions were hardly necessary—how could the daughter of the God of War take such a fledgling antlered spirit seriously?

Her cultivation was now no less than that of the Four Saints of the Ruins; in all the wild realms, few could rival her.