Chapter 192: Southern Frost Beast Stampede

After Ge Qingfeng returned, news of their spar quickly spread among the Supreme Elders in the know. To their surprise, Ge Qingfeng openly admitted to his senior brothers that Sixth Senior Brother's mastery of the sword far surpassed his own, declaring him entirely worthy of the title of sword grandmaster.

As for those who doubted Jiuyou because he lacked the biting edge expected of a sword grandmaster, Ge Qingfeng offered an explanation.

"Sixth Senior Brother's state of mind has reached a realm the rest of us can hardly fathom. He no longer cultivates the sharpness of the blade, but his own true heart."

Such a statement carried immense weight coming from a sword cultivator who had immersed himself in the sword for over four hundred and eighty years. Hearing this, the elders who still harbored doubts about Jiuyou softened their stance. Naturally, Jiuyou remained unaware of it all.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, eight years passed.

Jiuyou's cultivation progressed steadily over those eight years, but he was still a fair distance from the Late Nascent Soul Stage Pinnacle. Breaking through to Deity Transformation felt even more remote. He knew almost nothing about the process; if he had to fumble his way through on his own, it would take an eternity.

Therefore, he was absolutely determined to secure the complete manual of the Daoyang Ten Palaces Art. It was his sole clue to peering into the Deity Transformation Realm.

His progress in the sword grew increasingly steady over the years. He could smoothly operate the Jinli Sword Formation formed by sixty-three Ember Moon Swords. Between that, Sword Qi Materialization, the remnant array at the foot of the mountain, and the profound spiritual energy granted by the Ten Palaces Art, he was confident his combat prowess was in no way inferior to a cultivator at the Late Nascent Soul Stage Pinnacle.

Yet he never acted rashly. The Daoyang Sect's foundation was unfathomably deep, and he remained wary of the Eldest Senior Brother who had yet to show his face. The situation inside the sect's treasury remained a mystery, leaving him entirely in the dark about any powerful restrictions guarding it. He wasn't in a hurry. At a time like this, patience was more vital than anything else.

Over the years, he occasionally accepted requests to take action, whether to clear out a beast stampede in Southern Frost or fend off probes from rival sects. He resolved every issue cleanly and efficiently, neither letting outsiders gauge his true limits nor deliberately hiding his strength. He walked that fine line to perfection.

However, he did notice something rather unusual: his Daoyang spiritual energy was significantly vaster than his fellow disciples'. Back at the Nascent Soul Early Stage, his reserves already rivaled a standard Middle Nascent Soul Stage cultivator. The other disciples cultivating the Ten Palaces Art possessed spiritual energy purer than ordinary rogue cultivators, certainly, but nowhere near as exaggerated as his own.

He guessed it might be the lingering effects of dispersing his previous cultivation to start over, or perhaps his path simply diverged from the norm.

He kept quiet about it, holding back even more of his strength in battle to avoid drawing unwanted attention. He was well aware that his actual foundation in the sword was nowhere near as profound as Ge Qingfeng claimed. That day, he had merely borrowed lines from Perfected Jinli's Bamboo Scroll to put on an act. If the man had pressed him with a few more questions, the facade would have crumbled.

Several years down the line, he had gained a solid understanding of the Daoyang Sect's layout and the general location of its treasury. His public persona had also solidified into that of a sword grandmaster with profound cultivation and a steady hand—someone neither overly approachable nor deliberately aloof.

Ironically, this very posture vastly improved his standing among the Supreme Elders who had initially been watching from the sidelines.

After all, a late Nascent Soul sword cultivator was a prize worth courting in any sect. He knew this perfectly well and was happy to play along. He simply kept his words scarce, acting like a tree slowly burying its roots deep into the soil, growing steadily without the slightest hint of impatience.

On one occasion, a mid-sized beast stampede abruptly erupted along the borders of Southern Frost. Thousands upon thousands of low-level demonic beasts surged from the depths of the icy plains. Driven by howling blizzards and their own frenzied roars, they hurled themselves at the Daoyang Sect's outer defensive lines. Jiuyou took action.

Hovering in midair, he simply raised his hand. A colossal tornado of golden sword qi plummeted from the sky and tore across the battlefield. Wherever it passed, the beast formations were effortlessly shredded, sending flesh and blood flying. A rain of gore showered down, staining the snowfields in wide patches of dark red. With every yard the sword tornado advanced, it violently ground the demonic beasts in its path into nothingness, leaving only a mangled expanse of corpses in its wake.

Countless disciples watched from afar, completely dumbfounded. To think the usually mild-mannered Sixth Elder possessed such a ruthless, terrifying hand in combat. It wasn't just the Daoyang Sect disciples—the rogue cultivators spectating in the distance, and even the hidden spies of the Guiming Sect, immediately shelved whatever underlying schemes they had been harboring.

But Jiuyou paid no mind to their stares.

As he mopped up the remainder of the beast stampede, he kept his focus on a faint, elusive aura lingering near the edge of the battlefield. It carried the distinct, oppressive weight of a tenth-level demonic beast. Though it was incredibly well-hidden, it could not escape his divine sense.

He didn't immediately head in that direction. Instead, he unhurriedly finished culling the majority of the beast stampede, instructed the others to handle the cleanup, and then transformed into a streak of golden light that vanished from the skies above the battlefield. A moment later, he silently doubled back.

He circled the perimeter of that aura. After confirming there was only a single tenth-level beast present, a plan formed in his mind.

He still needed five more late Nascent Soul prime ingredients to complete the Blood Soul Restriction. There was no way he was letting the one right in front of him slip away. The demon king clearly sensed that something was amiss. Just as it prepared to slip away amidst the lingering chaos, it slammed headfirst into a blindingly sharp arc of sword light.

The moment Jiuyou struck, he didn't hold back in the slightest.

The sixty-three Ember Moon Swords instantly fanned out. The Jinli Sword Formation descended like an inescapable net, trapping the Shape-shifting demon king firmly within.

Sword light crisscrossed within the formation, sword qi surging like tempestuous tides. The relentless onslaught battered the demon king into a wretched state; every attempt to break free was violently forced back. Beaten back into its true form, it revealed itself as a pure white fox-wolf hundreds of zhang long. It spat torrents of freezing flames, its fangs like serrated blades and a chilling hostility flashing in its eyes. It was fiercely vicious, wildly rampaging through the sword formation for a time and even managing to tear through several layers of the encirclement.

Unhurried, Jiuyou deployed the remnant sword array he had collected from the foot of Ember Sword Peak. By linking it with his Sword Qi Materialization techniques, he merged the two formations into one, finally crushing the fox-wolf into complete submission.

Just as he was about to shatter the beast's physical body and drag its soul into the Nether Capital Gate, the edge of his divine sense fiercely thrummed. Deep within the icy plains, two late Nascent Soul auras were rapidly closing in. One belonged to a demonic beast, but the other... was shockingly human. The fox-wolf demon king clearly sensed their approach and rallied with renewed vigor, as if its reinforcements had finally arrived.

Jiuyou acted decisively. With a single strike, he severed one of the beast's forelegs, using the momentum to withdraw his technique entirely. He retracted his sword formation and immediately fled. By the time the two newcomers arrived at the battlefield, he had already vanished into the blizzard.

But he hadn't truly left.

Concealing his aura in the distance, he observed them from the shadows for a moment. He got a clear look at the arrivals: one was a massive ice bear shape-shifted into a middle-aged man with eyes like freezing pools and a profoundly heavy aura. The other wore the robes of the Guiming Sect, sporting a sinister expression and a formidable level of cultivation.

He watched for a while longer, thoughts racing, before finally slipping away from his vantage point. But when he was barely a few thousand li away, he suddenly sensed two familiar auras violently clash with the two unfamiliar ones he had just left behind. His brow twitched. After a brief moment of thought, he changed direction and stealthily tracked after them.

The blizzard closed over his path, erasing any trace that he had ever been there.