56 – Two Sides of the Coin

Princess Ruòlán (若蘭|Gentle Orchid) shivered as a porcelain cup shattered near her head. She remained forced to kneel in shame while Lao Meng was pinned to the ground by two royal guards. (They are from chapter 22)

The throne room felt suffocatingly oppressive. Her older brothers watched the scene in silence. Some wore mocking smiles, others remained indifferent. On the ornate throne sat her father, surrounded by numerous concubines. To his right stood the Huǒyàn Kingdom’s guardian, a peak Foundation Establishment elder whose burning presence filled the hall with suffocating heat.

“Ruolan…” her father called coldly. “Do you know your mistake?”

“This daughter of a concubine does not.” Ruolan answered carefully. It was always safer to plead ignorance.

Her father rolled his eyes and sighed in clear annoyance. Several of her brothers chuckled while the rest continued feasting as if nothing unusual was happening.

“Do you know why I took you in?” he asked again.

“Yes. It is because this daughter possesses a modicum of talent.” Ruolan replied with the answer that had been drilled into her since childhood.

“Correct.” The king looked marginally pleased. “You see… I allowed your little friendship with that princess of Jin because her kingdom is weak. Their royal family is in decline, unlike ours.” He boasted proudly.

A wave of peak Qi Refining pressure erupted from him, joined by four of her brothers. Two were also at peak Qi Refining, while the others were at the seventh and eighth levels. The overwhelming collective presence pressed down on Ruolan, reminding her exactly where she stood.

It was not merely because she was a daughter of a concubine. Two of her brothers shared the same status. But the fact that she is a woman. Huoyan kingdom keeps track and place of great import of bloodlines and heritage. Which of course, only carried forward by men. Women served as political tools and marriage pawns. The fact that she was allowed to cultivate at all was considered a privilege. Yet it only meant she would eventually be married off to whichever cultivator best served the kingdom’s interests.

“But now,” the king continued, his voice heavy, “not only has the Kingdom of Jin survived a major calamity, their princess has also awakened her spiritual roots. On top of that, they discovered a spiritual vein. Tell me, is this a good thing?”

“No, Royal Father,” the crown prince answered immediately. “It is not.”

“Among the five southern kingdoms surrounding Tianhe Sect, Qīngmù (青木|Verdant Wood), Nántāo (南濤|Southern Wave), Jīn (金|Gold), and Hòutǔ (厚土|Deep Earth), our Huǒyàn (火焰|Flame) Kingdom remains the strongest” The second prince adds.

Surrounding. Not under. This simple choice of word revealed their naked ambition. Yet no voice came to reprimand.Though the influence of the great sects had weakened after the great civil war that split the world, the Huoyan kingdom had always harbored dreams of becoming an immortal dynasty. Combined with the short memories of mortals, such insolence would have been grounds for the extermination of the royal family by the sect overseeing the territory.

“But…” The king spoke once more. “Not everything is a bad thing. I have heard that Elder Xuan has adopted a son. You have met him, have you not?”

Ruolan’s heart sank. She already knew what her father wanted.

“It would be good if you could get to know him better,” the king said. “Though I also hear his appearance is quite… eccentric.”

“Royal Father, no matter how strange the rumors, he would still be better than whatever Ruolan deserves.” The third prince mocks and the entire hall bursts into laughter. More insolence.

“You know what to do right?” the king asked, turning back to her.

“Yes, Father.” Ruolan answered.

“And that princess of Jin,” the king added coldly. “I do not care how you do it. Put her down as well.”

“Of course.”

The grand doors of the throne room burst open with a heavy thud. A fully armored mortal general strode in, stopping at a respectful distance before dropping to one knee and raising his hands high above his head.

“This humble one brings an urgent letter bearing a grave warning for Your Majesty,” the general announced, presenting what appeared to be an ordinary, unsealed letter.

The letter flew from his grasp straight into the hands of the kingdom’s guardian. The elder opened it, his expression quickly twisting into annoyance.

Then came a faint whistle, barely louder than a whisper.

Then psst.

The silent sound followed by screams of the king’s concubines. The royal guards froze in shock. Princess Ruolan’s eyes widened. The king slumped lifelessly against his throne. The guardian collapsed dead where he stood. All four princes fell, some crumpling onto their tables, others toppling backward, each bearing a tiny, perfectly round hole no larger than a thumb in the center of their foreheads.

On the small letter, now stained red with the guardian’s blood, was a single simple sentence:

“The king and his princes will die when this letter is opened.”

Thus, the Huoyan royal family became the third royal line slain by Xiàomíng (啸冥|Whistling Death).

Ruolan looked up. looked up slowly. An indescribable warmth bloomed in her chest at the sight of the slaughtered royal family. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, barely managing to conceal the overwhelming joy that threatened to paint her face.

—

“Oooo.” Huiran exhales. “I feel better already.”

Meanwhile, I stood pressed against the far wall of the cave, a full World War-era gas mask covering my deer skull. Hands desperately covering my ear hole. Wendao tried to meditate while staring fixedly at the opposite wall. The last thirty minutes had been pure torture in both stench and sound.

I heard Huiran flush the ‘toilet’ and finally turned around, only to witness further blasphemy.

“Wash your hands!” I demanded.

“I did.” Huiran replied innocently, showing his clean palms before scooping more water with his right hand to wash the left.

“With soap,” I added.

“Where would I even get soap?” A bar of soap promptly smacked him in the face. Wendao had thrown it.

The soap fell to the ground. Huiran didn’t bother picking it up, his mischievous smile widening. He stretched both hands forward threateningly.

“Don’t you dare!” I warned.

But Huiran charged like a madman, determined to smear his improperly washed hands on us. Wendao leapt to the ceiling. I became the primary target as I ran and dodge his improperly washed hands.

“Gotcha.” Huiran’s hand almost touches my clothes as I project enough water to flood the cave.

I spun the water like a washing machine, catching Wendao’s soap and projecting extra arms to wrestle Huiran’s hands.

“Wash your goddamned hands!” I forced him to scrub thoroughly with the soap, then rubbed both of his palms all over his own face.

Then the three of us suddenly dragged out of the cave as the iron door opened. Drenching Elder Guyue, Elder Luoying, Sister Wanxia and Sister Ningguang in a wave of flood while my father is there too. Only my father remained perfectly dry.

“I take it we’re being released early for good behavior?” I asked, sitting up while Wendao and Huiran recovered. The latter spat out water, clearly enjoying the view from the wet clothes.

“Very funny.” Elder Luoying said coldly, unsheathing her sword. “Now then, whose fault is this?”

I immediately pointed at Huiran. He and Wendao pointed at me. My mouth fell open in betrayal.

“Now, now. I would be truly grateful if you could forgive him,” my father said calmly. “Just this once.”

Elder Luoying stared for a moment before sheathing her sword. “Just this once.” She turned and left first.

“Master,” Sister Ningguang spoke up. She and Sister Wanxia had already dried their clothes, as had Elder Guyue. “Are you certain this is a good decision?”

My lidless eyes focused on Ningguang. It finally clicked why her Qi and presence smelled so delicious. Her voice… she was the one who had muttered “so cold” when I tried sensing desires earlier.

Elder Guyue didn’t reply right away. She exchanged a brief telepathic conversation with my father before nodding to her disciple.

“Yes. Brief them and prepare accordingly.” With that, she departed.

“What is happening?” I asked my father.

“Just a friendly outing,” he replied. “Wanxia and Ningguang will explain the details.” He left shortly after.

The three of us turned toward the two senior sisters. Wanxia looked openly annoyed while Ningguang tried her best to appear indifferent.

“Listen,” Sister Wanxia began, “none of us are happy about this. Master was supposed to take us to the Jiǔshuāng (九霜|Nine Frost) sect. But a certain elder suggested that his son might benefit from joining this outing.”

She handed me a yellow mission token. The brief read:

“To recover and bolster relations between disciples, escort Wanxia and Ningguang to the Jiushuang Sect within six months. After a short visit, escort both back to Tianhe Sect within six months.

Direct Mission for Xuan Danxing and his group.”

I see. So that was why Wanxia looked so unenthused. She probably thought I was a nepo baby who got assigned purely because of my adoptive father. However…

“My group?” I stared at the wording incredulously, then glanced at Huiran and Wendao.

“I don’t see why not,” Huiran said with a chuckle, clearly excited at the prospect of escorting two beauties.

“Under one condition,” Wendao added.

—

Of course. It has to be this way.

The five of us returned to the sect's arena. Huiran, Wanxia, and Ningguang watch as me and Wendao face each other in the arena. Tianjiao precedes the match as usual and the word that I enter the arena once more has gathered more spectators than before. Tianjiao presided over the match as usual. Word of my return to the arena had drawn an even larger crowd than before. Betting stands appeared almost instantly on both sides.

What’s wrong with this sect? Why are these people so addicted to gambling?

“Danxing.” Wendao called out. His presence sharpened, cold and focused once more. “You spoke so loftily about your gun and its ideals. Now I will see whether you can back up those words, or if they were nothing but empty libel.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” I nodded in understanding. “How about we keep it simple? First hit wins?”

Please say the first hit wins.

“No,” he refused flatly. “The only match that matters. Ranked.”

I glanced at the ranking pillar. Wendao is currently 33rd. I spotted other familiar names: Senior Sister Zhaoxia at 9th, Senior Sister Hanhua at 41st, and Qingfeng at a very nice 69th. As for me? Dead last at 156th.

So if I win, I jump straight to 33rd? That would mean getting constantly challenged. Fuck, I don’t want that. But deliberately throwing the fight would antagonize Wendao, and I didn’t particularly want to do that either. There was also the very real risk of accidentally killing him.

—

“Are both challengers ready?” Tianjiao asks loudly.

“Inner Disciple Wendao asks brother Danxing for enlightenment.” Wendao declared formally.

“Inner Disciple Danxing asks brother Wendao for enlightenment.” Danxing repeats politely.

“Begin.”

The match began much like Danxing’s previous fight with Hanhua. His Divine Sense instantly blanketed the entire arena. A railgun materialized and fired at Wendao from above in the same instant. The bullet was cut cleanly in two before it could reach him, while a sharp Qi slash flew back at Danxing simultaneously. He blocked it with his AT field, which consumed eight shots in the process.

Only then did Danxing realize he shouldn’t worry about accidentally killing Wendao. The real danger was the other way around.

Danxing waved his hand upward. A massive truck at full speed appeared beneath Wendao’s feet, launching him into the air before vanishing. He waved downward. Another truck slammed from above. With a casual slash the weightless illusion from the top is cut. But this is just to make distance.

BANG!

One deafening railgun roared. But in fact two railguns were shot at the same time.one in front, one directly behind. Wendao’s sword curved elegantly, cutting both bullets in a single fluid motion.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

More pairs of railguns appeared in a circular formation, firing from opposite directions. Unlike Ouyang Jianxin’s flashy sword dance or Hanhua’s aggressive style, Wendao’s swordplay had no fixed stance. It wasn’t as fast as Hanhua’s, but it had almost no blind spots, making it incredibly difficult to predict.

Meanwhile, Wendao calmly assessed his opponent. Danxing could attack from anywhere within his Divine Sense range. His railguns are faster and more powerful than the usual parrying training Wendao had. But that’s all there is to it.

Then Wendao felt danger and evaded. Several tiny projectiles still struck him. They weren’t vital hits, but the ammunition had changed. from single powerful bullets to flechette buckshot. Dozens of smaller, high-velocity darts. Danxing had prepared this counter after growing tired of his shots being casually cut apart by sword cultivators.

Forcing Wendao to use his movement arts to evade while slicing down swarms of projectiles coming from opposite sides. Danxing projected four CIWS turrets and opened fire. Two dozen smaller bullets at railgun speed and power poured in from six directions, brute-forcing their way through Wendao’s defenses.

Wendao unleashed a sudden burst of sharp Qi. His Sword Intent erupted like a rising sun. Cold, blinding, and absolute. With a single, majestic horizontal slash, he executed One Thousand in One Slash.

In that one flawless stroke, the world seemed to split. Every projectile, every railgun, and all four CIWS turrets were severed simultaneously. The very air screamed as the invisible blade of will carved through everything in its path with peerless precision and overwhelming force.

Wendao’s sword stopped just a hair’s breadth from Danxing’s throat. The latter tilted his deer skull slightly. Wendao himself bore dozens of small bullet wounds across his body.

Wendao acknowledges his mistake. In his attempt to understand his enemy, he had allowed Danxing to push him this far. Had he used his full Sword Intent from the beginning, the fight would have ended instantly.

Click

A small sound came from the side. Another Danxing stood there, calmly holding a railgun aimed directly at Wendao's head.

A swing. A deafening BANG!

The projected clone was beheaded in an instant. But the real shot struck true. Creating loud sounds of metal striking metal. Wendao’s sword was blasted out of his hand in a wide arc, his calloused palm shaking violently. This final railgun shot was more than triple the speed and power of the previous ones. Its firing piston enhanced by Mountain Shaking Strike art and the bullet itself imbued with Gale Sovereign Bow. Tripling firepower at the cost of ten times the Qi expenditure. A work in progress.

“Winner Xuan Danxing!” Tianjiao announced.

And Danxing spin reloads his railgun.

~ Valarion