202 - We Agreed On Experiencing Life, So Why Did You Immortals Become Real?

Chapter 202: Consider It My Final Gift to Him Vast Plain of Myriad Paths. Xiao Mo stepped into the small formation. Xiao Mo's first opponent was a cultivator from Thunderfire Peak named Lei Ben, who also specialized in sword skills. Both Lei Ben and Xiao Mo were at the Nascent Soul stage. After all, only cultivators from the Golden Core stage to the Jade Pupil stage could participate in the Holy Son selection. This meant that upper-level cultivators would indeed participate. Historically, most Holy Son candidates were at the Jade Pupil stage, and it was rare to see a Nascent Soul stage participant. However, in Xiao Mo’s eyes, the opponent's cultivation level made no difference. Before the duel, Xiao Mo and Lei Ben signed documents under the witness of the Myriad Paths Sect's steward. The Myriad Paths Sect had few rules in their matches and didn’t provide protective artifacts for survival. Unless one voluntarily surrenders midway, life and death are on their shoulders, and there are no complaints if one dies. "So, you’re Xiao Mo?" Lei Ben, holding a massive machete, looked at Xiao Mo indifferently. "I’ve been away at the branch of Myriad Paths Sect for years and just returned to hear about a genius who killed a Golden Core stage cultivator while at the Cave Mansion stage. Impressive." "Yes," Xiao Mo replied calmly. Lei Ben frowned at Xiao Mo's Tang blade and continued, "Your Peak uses these slender Tang blades from the Central Plains; they look as delicate as girls. It’s annoying to see. Look at my machete—now that’s something fit for a man!" Xiao Mo remained unbothered and looked at him coolly, "You've spoken enough. If you’re done, draw your blade." "Hahaha, such arrogance, kid. I like it. Guard yourself!" With those words, Lei Ben drew his nearly ten-foot-long machete, leaping up to chop down on Xiao Mo. The enormous blade, accompanied by fierce thunder, seemed as though a single strike could cleave Xiao Mo in half. Simultaneously, the surrounding cultivators observing Xiao Mo had varied thoughts. Some female cultivators felt concern for Xiao Mo. Some male cultivators believed he deserved it and hoped he’d die. On the other hand, Yu Yunwei remained extremely composed. This cultivator named Lei Ben seemed formidable indeed. But alas, he faced her senior. In Yu Yunwei's heart, no one had yet been born in this world who could defeat her senior within two major realms. As that strike was about to connect with Xiao Mo’s head, Xiao Mo drew his long blade. In an instant, a blood-red murderous aura enveloped the entire formation. Sweat beaded on Lei Ben's forehead, and the overwhelming blood aura struck fear into his soul. "Clang!" Xiao Mo's long blade sliced through, heavily striking Lei Ben. Blood-red malevolence clashed with blue lightning. Spirit energy rippled like gentle waves on a lake, expanding outward. "Boom!" With a loud noise, it was over. Xiao Mo sheathed his spirit-drawing blade as Lei Ben crashed to the ground, his gigantic machete shattered in two. While Lei Ben struggled to rise, Xiao Mo didn't even glance at him. He turned and walked out of the formation, saying, "If you stand again, the next strike will take your life." Lei Ben, speechless, remained on the ground, watching Xiao Mo's silhouette fade away. "Senior Brother, well done!" Yu Yunwei approached happily, handing over a flask not filled with wine but tea. "I'm fine," Xiao Mo replied, taking a sip. "Let's go to the next round." "Okay, Senior Brother." Yu Yunwei followed beside Xiao Mo, eyes brimming with pride. Watching Xiao Mo leave, the other disciples finally came to aftershocks. The battle was over. "Monster!" Those two words encapsulated everyone’s appraisal of Xiao Mo. Most had only heard rumors of Xiao Mo's formidable cultivation, but witnessing it firsthand revealed the terrifying truth. Meanwhile, at Bloodfiend Peak. On the first day of the Holy Son selection duel, Bloodfiend, as a Master, did not head to the Vast Plain of Myriad Paths but rather napped soundly in the courtyard. "Bloodfiend... Bloodfiend!" In slumber, Bloodfiend faintly heard someone calling. Groggy, Bloodfiend opened his eyes, yawning. Just as he was about to sit up, a woman in a teal dress pushed the door open. "Qing Yuan, barging into someone’s room this early isn’t good. My disciple might punish you for this." Bloodfiend rubbed his eyes, sitting cross-legged on the bed, his hair lazily hanging by his face. The woman named Qing Yuan shot him a glare, "Your disciple’s participating in the Holy Son selection today, and you're not watching?" "What’s there to see?" Bloodfiend reached for a nearby wine flask, taking a swig. "It’s just the kid slicing a few more times." Qing Yuan opened her mouth to speak but found Bloodfiend’s words true. Over the years, although Qing Yuan had only seen Xiao Mo a few times, his cultivation defied common reasoning. "Tell me, what's up?" Bloodfiend wiped his chin. "Right, I nearly forgot." Remembering her purpose, Qing Yuan quickly retrieved a letter from her robes. Bloodfiend took and read the letter, frowning deeply. Finally, he ignited the letter with his fingers, reducing it to ashes. "Is this true?" "I’m not sure," Qing Yuan shook her head. "If it’s true, we’re in dire straits, affecting not just the Western Region but the entire world." Bloodfiend lightly bit his lip, resolved, "Keep an eye on it. I’ll investigate too. If it reaches that point..." His words trailed off, eyes filled with killing intent. "Don’t rush. Regardless, the Sect Master is an Ascendant stage cultivator. We must tread carefully," Qing Yuan cautioned. "I know, I’m not an impulsive girl," Bloodfiend replied. Qing Yuan's brow twitched, her expression saying, "If you’re not impulsive, then who?" "Oh, since you’re here, help me with something," Bloodfiend smiled. "What do you need?" "Forge me a sword." "A sword? For that kid?" Bloodfiend nodded, drawing a design from the snowy mountain of parchment and handing it to Qing Yuan. Looking at the design, Qing Yuan's eyes widened in shock, exclaiming, "Bloodfiend, is this sword even forgeable? Have you lost your mind?" "What’s the harm?" Bloodfiend's eyes curved with mischief, "I don’t have many years left anyway. Consider this sword my final gift to him." "Are you helping or not? If not, I’ll do it myself." "You..." Qing Yuan hesitated, but ultimately sighed, accepting the design. "I understand. What’s this sword called?" "The name huh..." Bloodfiend pondered momentarily. "Call it Ink-Drenched."