Chapter 146: They've Gone Mad, They've All Gone Mad

Blade’s pupils contracted to pinpricks. That sword momentum… it was too sharp, too achingly familiar.

So familiar, in fact, that the fragmented memories slumbering deep within her soul suddenly roared to life.

Before her mind could even process the thought, her body had already moved, acting on pure, ingrained instinct. The Shard of Unreachable Side in her hand slashed upward, barely managing to block the space before her throat.

CLANG!

The moment the longsword connected with her own, a colossal impact surged through the weapon and into her arms, sending Blade staggering back several steps.

The ferocity that had defined her moments ago was utterly gone, replaced by a storm of unbelievable shock that churned in her eyes. She stared, transfixed, at the elegant longsword in the other’s hand.

Her gaze traveled up from the blade to the white-haired figure, whose eyes were concealed by a simple black blindfold. Her entire body began to tremble, an uncontrollable tremor that started in her hands and spread through her core.

How could it be… this swordsmanship… this presence… it’s clearly him!

It’s clearly that Jingliu!

But the person standing before her, the one wielding that impossible skill, possessed the unmistakable figure of a woman. And yet, that strike just now—that effortless grace, that posture of handling a heavy blow with feather-light ease…

That chilling, razor-sharp intent hidden beneath a placid surface… besides Jingliu, who else in the entire universe could wield a sword like that?

“You…” Blade’s voice was a ragged, unrecognizable rasp. Her eyes were locked onto the blindfolded figure, as if trying to burn through the black cloth and see the truth within. “Are you really… Jingliu?”

Once the thought took root, it grew with the ferocity of wild weeds, wrapping around her mind and squeezing until she could barely breathe.

Those memories, once blurred and distorted by the endless cycle of death and rebirth, sharpened with painful clarity. Back on the Xianzhou Luofu, she remembered the sword champion clad in robes as white as snow, whose every strike was like a startled swan taking flight. That man had used this very swordsmanship to drive her into desperate straits time and again, to kill her time and again.

That coldness, that sword intent that had reached the absolute zenith of aloof perfection… it had long ago been carved into the very essence of her soul. No matter how many times her body was reforged, that memory could never be erased.

A crazed, unhinged roar echoed across the stone platform, carrying the sound of a worldview being forcibly shattered. The attacks from the Shard of Unreachable Side in her hand lost all semblance of form or technique. She was moving on pure obsession now, a primal need for unending battle fueled by a surging, baleful aura as she slashed wildly.

Every strike carried the desperate hatred to tear this absurd existence—and its ridiculous disguise—to pieces.

“Crazy… you’ve all gone crazy! Hahaha!!”

Blade’s laughter sounded more like a choked sob.

“The dignified Sword Master Jingliu! The greatest swordsman under heaven! Actually willing to debase yourself and dress up as a woman! How ridiculous! How utterly pathetic!”

Faced with this storm of attacks—a flurry that was becoming increasingly sloppy and full of openings due to her extreme emotional instability—Chen, inhabiting Jingliu’s form, frowned. The expression was hidden by the blindfold, but the sentiment was there.

He could feel that something was deeply wrong with Blade. While the malevolent aura surrounding her was climbing to a terrifying peak, it was also beginning to violently backlash against its host.

The crimson in her eyes deepened, growing so thick it looked as if it might drip like blood. Her entire presence became chaotic and dangerously unstable, carrying the distinct… and ominous… signs of imminent collapse.

Chen’s heart gave a nervous lurch.

‘Mara-Struck?”Wait, is this sister really about to have a complete and total psychotic breakdown right here in front of me?’

Just as Blade’s furious roar reached its crescendo, even Dan Heng, who had been observing solemnly from the side, took on a grave expression. He tensed, preparing to intervene to prevent a catastrophe.

“Calm down, Blade.”

A gentle male voice, imbued with a strange, compelling rhythm and a piercing clarity, suddenly inserted itself into the violent battlefield.

The moment the voice sounded, Blade’s baleful aura and spiraling madness, which had been on the very verge of exploding, seemed to hit a pause button. Her rampage stalled with visible, jarring abruptness.

Her slashing motion froze. The Shard of Unreachable Side hung suspended in mid-air, trembling violently. Although the thick crimson in her eyes hadn’t faded, it was as if a powerful sedative had been forcibly injected into her very soul. The churning chaos and the insanity about to burst forth from her body were slowly suppressed, smoothed over by an unseen, gentle force.

On a high reef at the edge of the battlefield, a figure had appeared at some unknown point, standing there as if she had been there all along.

The Stellaron Hunter—Kafka.

Chen’s eyes lit up instantly!

‘A five-star icon! I absolutely cannot let this chance slip by!’

He didn’t even stop to think. His body reacted far faster than his conscious mind.

In the precise instant that Blade was forcibly pacified by the Spirit Whisper, her movements locked in a rigid stupor, Chen’s figure vanished from the spot!

“Watch out!”

Though Blade was ensnared by the Spirit Whisper, her battle instincts remained razor-sharp. Seeing the white-haired figure disappear, her first thought was that the enemy was seizing the opportunity to launch a fatal attack on Kafka!

She forcibly broke free from a fraction of the Spirit Whisper’s restraint. With a guttural roar, she swung her sword to intercept, but the blade only sliced through a fading afterimage.

A flash of surprise crossed Kafka’s elegant features, but she showed no signs of panic. She made no obvious defensive or evasive maneuvers. She simply stood there, quietly watching as the impossibly fast figure appeared before her as if phasing through space itself.

And then… Chen reached out his hand.

He gently patted Kafka’s shoulder.

The movement was so fluid, so utterly natural, it was as if an old friend were simply offering a casual greeting.

After the pat, he even took the opportunity to pinch the fabric of her coat between his fingers, offering a quick mental critique.

‘Hmm, the material’s nice. Quite tasteful.’

Having accomplished his mission, before Blade’s sword could find a new target or Dan Heng’s shocked gaze could fully register what had happened, Chen’s figure flickered again. He was already back in his original position, standing beside Yanqing, who had just recovered from his own shock and was now struggling to comprehend the rapidly evolving situation.

The entire process of “touching the icon” was so fast it was dazzling, executed with a swiftness that carried a sense of absurd, almost comical purpose.

Blade’s sword remained frozen in mid-air. Kafka blinked slowly, looking down at the shoulder that had just been patted. She then looked back up at the white-haired woman—still blindfolded, still looking preternaturally calm—who had retreated to Yanqing’s side.

The composed, knowing smile on Kafka’s face couldn’t help but stiffen for a fraction of a second.

Dan Heng looked at Kafka, then at the serene, white-haired figure. He felt the already chaotic situation spiraling into a new dimension of incomprehensibility. But that shoulder-patting action… that abrupt, bizarrely purposeful behavior… it was starting to feel more and more like a certain someone…

And at that moment, the person experiencing the most deep shock was none other than Yanqing.

His young brain was buzzing, overloaded by the torrent of information.

First, he was nearly killed by that terrifying Stellaron Hunter.

Then, he was saved by a blind older sister playing a sad zither, whom he’d met once before.

Then, he watched this same sister display world-shakingly terrifying swordsmanship, fighting that crazy woman to a complete standstill.

And then, that crazy woman started shouting “Sword Master Jingliu.”

That name… a name that carried immense weight, a name tinged with taboo in the annals of the Xianzhou Alliance… Sword Master… Jingliu?

That sister? The blind zither player with the mournful music who needed him to lead her by the hand?

Is… is she that legendary… sword champion?

[Elysian’s Note:

Having a good time with the story?

Every single bit helps immensely:

Thanks a ton for making this journey possible!]