Chapter 65: Shadow Devourer, Cultivator

Baiyi Qiuhan stood on the battlefield, watching as magical arts and divine abilities flashed past him. He dodged frantically, but suddenly sensed someone’s gaze fixated on him. He turned, locking eyes with the person; from that gaze, he felt bitter hatred, a resolve to perish together.

It was an immortal, appearing to be an ancient being in his forties. The immortal raised his hand, golden light bursting forth as a magical seal shot toward Baiyi Qiuhan. He couldn't dodge, but the seal passed through him and struck a robed cultivator behind. That cultivator, wielding a staff, swept it fiercely through the air. Instantly, countless earthen spikes erupted from the ground beneath the immortal, piercing his body. The immortal spat blood, his form suddenly swelling before exploding with a thunderous boom, unleashing a violent storm that engulfed the robed cultivator.

After a long while, the storm subsided. Baiyi Qiuhan floated into the sky. Spells and magical techniques, immortals and otherworldly beings, all passed through him as if he didn’t exist. He realized, to his shock, that nobody could sense his presence or see him at all.

The scene shifted. It was as if an immense force had yanked him into a mysterious tunnel. He didn't know how much time had passed before he found himself in a vast forest, surrounded by towering trees, the ground carpeted with lush green grass.

He gazed upward for a while, then began walking, intent on leaving the forest. Just then, the sounds of fighting echoed not far away. He paused, eyes fixed in the direction of the commotion.

Soon, a young cultivator came into view, his body streaked with blood. In his hand he gripped a black longsword—a weapon Baiyi Qiuhan knew well, having seen it several times before.

The young man flew desperately, gasping for breath. Behind him, a group of cultivators pursued relentlessly, quickly overtaking and surrounding him.

"Zhang Yuan, stop this pointless struggle. Because we are fellow disciples, if you hand over the sect’s treasure, I can spare your life," said one among them—a scholar-like youth with a folding fan, stepping forward to confront the youth with the black sword.

“Chen Tian, spare me your hypocritical words. You traitor, do you think I’ll believe a word you say? Even our master, who treated you like a son, you betrayed—so much for brotherhood. If you want the Shadow-Devouring Sword, you’ll have to take it over my dead body,” Zhang Yuan snarled, his eyes burning with boundless hatred as he glared at Chen Tian.

“You were taken in by our master as a child, gifted beyond measure. The entire sect saw you as its future protector. I was just an orphan, spared by our master. But you envied my talent, feared I'd seize the position of sect leader, feared I'd inherit all that ought to be yours. Driven by malice, you targeted me at every turn, even conspiring with our enemies to betray our master, leading to the slaughter of our elders and disciples,” Zhang Yuan roared, voice trembling with fury.

"Zhang Yuan!" Chen Tian’s calm facade broke as Zhang Yuan’s words struck a nerve. His eyes twisted with malice as he sneered, "So what if I betrayed the sect? Don’t you know the wise adapt to survive? Why, after you joined, did the old man dote on you so? Why entrust the sect’s treasure to you? Everything that should have been mine was stolen by you!"

He laughed bitterly. “But how pitiful—you never knew that the old man was your true father. Now it’s too late. The old man was killed by the elders of the Ten Thousand Ghost Sect. As for you, Zhang Yuan, I might have spared you if you’d handed over the Shadow-Devouring Sword. But I’ve changed my mind. Once you’re dead, the sword will be mine. And your soul—I’ll rip it from your body, present it to my master, and beg him to bind you to the Banner of Ten Thousand Souls, so you’ll never know peace again!”

Chen Tian’s face contorted with hatred, his gaze on Zhang Yuan as if staring at a corpse.

"Why waste words, Brother Chen? Kill him, take back the sword, and present it to the Grand Elder for great merit! Once we're done here, let’s raid Zhang Yuan’s sect. I hear your former sect has many beautiful female disciples—why not let us claim a few for our pleasure?” a bald, brutish man said with a lecherous grin, echoed by laughter and jeers from those around him.

A flash of disgust crossed Chen Tian’s eyes, but he quickly concealed it, replying with a smile, “You’re right, Senior Brother. Help me kill him and reclaim the sword. Afterward, anything you desire, I’ll see to it.”

Baiyi Qiuhan watched as the group departed, yet no one noticed him.

“Who am I? Where am I?” he muttered. After a long time, a colossal black vortex appeared in the sky. Its depths were unfathomable. Suddenly, an overwhelming force pulled Baiyi Qiuhan into it until he vanished, and peace returned to the land.

He didn't know how much time passed before he found himself on a vast plain. Before him stood a cultivator, face indiscernible, yet the very heavens seemed to tremble at his presence, the earth quaking beneath his feet.

The cultivator gripped a black longsword, raising a hand to the sky. Dark clouds gathered, thunder flashed, and a bolt of blue lightning crashed down. Unmoved, the cultivator caught the lightning in his left hand as it fell and, to Baiyi Qiuhan’s astonishment, swallowed it whole.

“What kind of cultivation is this, to consume the tribulation lightning of heaven and earth?” Baiyi Qiuhan was utterly dumbfounded by the sight.