Chapter 180: The Terror of the Daoyang Sect

"Before the Patriarch departed, he told me his greatest regret in life was that his teachings could not be returned to the Daoyang Sect. He instructed me that if I ever made it here, I should make this request on his behalf. Now that I have arrived, I hope you senior brothers will grant it," Jiuyou said, respectfully clasping his fists. He kept his posture incredibly humble and his tone earnest, as if delivering the final wish of an old friend.

The four late-stage Nascent Soul Grand Cultivators opposite him were momentarily stunned. They had assumed this newcomer came with ill intent, only for his attitude to be incredibly sincere. This was a Grand Cultivator at the exact same stage as them—with him lowering himself like this, anyone would have to weigh the situation carefully.

Furthermore, the method this man practiced was genuinely the Daoyang Ten Palaces Art, and the Qingyang Nine Gates Art he had presented was clearly modeled after it. Such a profound foundation could not be built overnight, and no late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator would waste centuries carefully fabricating such an elaborate lie.

The four of them exchanged glances, completely unsure of what to do. After all, a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, claimed to be the grand-disciple of their Patriarch Zhiyang from four thousand years ago, and was now seeking to return to the sect with his legacy. In the thousand years they had been alive, they had never encountered a situation quite like this.

A long silence settled high in the sky. The wind and snow swirled relentlessly above the mountain gate, as if they, too, were waiting for something.

The leading elder suddenly stepped forward, leveling his wooden staff straight at Jiuyou. His gaze was noticeably sharper than before. "That isn't right. What you just said isn't entirely true."

Hearing this, the three men behind the elder instantly tensed, their gazes locking onto Jiuyou.

Jiuyou's expression didn't change, but his heart tightened slightly. One hand quietly reached behind his back, his fingertips brushing the hilt of a small golden sword.

The elder didn't attack. Instead, he took two steps closer, his gaze lingering on Jiuyou's dantian for a fraction of a second. "Earlier, when you released your aura, I sensed another presence alongside your Daoyang mana." He paused, enunciating every word. "That was the aura of the Ember Moon Sword."

The three men behind him visibly reacted to those words.

"The Ember Moon Sword!" one middle-aged cultivator blurted out. "Second Senior Brother, are you talking about Martial Uncle Jinli from Ember Sword Peak a thousand years ago?"

The gazes of all four men locked onto Jiuyou once more, waiting for his answer.

Jiuyou didn't rush to answer. He simply moved his hand away from the hilt. He glanced at the four of them, as if confirming something, before slowly asking, "Is this what you speak of?"

Before his voice even faded, thirty-two Golden Li Ember Moon Swords flew out from behind his back. They orbited his body, their light linking together into a flowing golden river. They flared and dimmed against the swirling snow, bathing the entire sky in a sparkling golden glow. Spiritual light rippled along the blades; they weren't deliberately flaunting their power, yet they carried a piercing sharpness that was impossible to ignore.

Down below, the disciples and elders of the Daoyang Sect all looked up. Cries of amazement echoed one after another, rippling outward like waves from a stone tossed into a pond. However, Jiuyou was cautious enough to hold back; he had only summoned thirty-two swords, choosing not to reveal the full set of forty-two.

Right at that moment, the auras of numerous Nascent Soul cultivators simultaneously erupted from the depths of the Daoyang Sect.

From cave dwellings, palaces, and spirit pavilions, pillars of spiritual light shot into the sky from every direction. There were over thirty of them, their cultivations ranging from the Nascent Soul Early Stage to the middle stage. Their sweeping auras linked together and locked firmly onto Jiuyou. The intertwined energy formed a net of countless threads, completely blanketing the sky.

Down below, the disciples stared up at the figure standing amid the golden sword light. Feeling the spiritual pressure surging from every direction, every one of them held their breath.

"What's going on?" someone whispered. "Why have so many Supreme Elders been alarmed?"

The person beside him shook his head, his gaze still glued to the sky above. "What kind of background does that senior have? To cause such a massive commotion... it's absolutely terrifying."

Someone else gulped. "With the auras of so many Supremes locking onto him at once... if that were me, I don't think I could even stand upright."

It wasn't just within the Daoyang Sect. Thousands, tens of thousands, even over a hundred thousand li away, countless eyes were drawn to that blazing golden light.

Far away, cultivators stared at that sea of golden light, their expressions wavering with doubt and shock. Those who felt the overlapping layers of spiritual pressure went pale on the spot, involuntarily taking a half-step back.

Within the various market towns and cities across the region, discussions erupted all at once. It was like a boulder crashing into a calm lake, the ripples spreading further and further out.

Standing at the center of that golden river of swords, Jiuyou felt the auras locking onto him from every direction. His face remained completely impassive, but inwardly, he had already roughly estimated the number and positions of every single aura.

He was also glad he hadn't chosen to force his way in. Facing a sect with foundations this profound, even if he managed to escape, the price would be severe. Moreover, going by what that man had just said, the elder in front of him was only the "Second Senior Brother." That meant there was a very high chance the sect's depths hid an entity at the Peak Nascent Soul Stage.

At that moment, the leading elder glanced down at the surging auras. He raised a hand and sent out a streak of golden mana. His voice wasn't loud, yet it steadily echoed across the entire mountain range. "Enough. It is not an enemy attack; there is no need for alarm. Return to your duties."

The auras paused for a moment before retracting one by one. Like a receding tide, they sank back into their respective cave dwellings and palaces. The golden spiritual light in the sky dissipated along with them, and the suffocating pressure finally slowly receded.

Jiuyou took the opportunity to recall his Ember Moon Swords. The sword light vanished into his sleeves as though nothing had ever happened. Only a momentary chill remained suspended in the air, like the lingering cold on the edge of a freshly sheathed blade.

The elder's gaze softened slightly. He stroked his beard, his tone much gentler than before. "Junior Brother, there is no need for such formalities, nor is there any need to be nervous. Since you have inherited Patriarch Zhiyang's legacy and unexpectedly obtained Martial Uncle Jinli's Ember Moon Sword inheritance, and have come to us so openly, then you are a member of our Daoyang Sect. I simply never expected the mantle of these two lineages to fall upon the same person. It truly is the will of Heaven."

He paused, a solemn edge creeping into his tone. "With Junior Brother's addition, perhaps our Daoyang Sect can take another step forward on the path of revival."