Chapter 34: The Peerless Cursed Sword—Slaughtering Enemies, Kin, and Self Alike (Part II)

"The intensity of the baleful energy you carry is the greatest I have ever encountered in my life; it is no weaker than my own."

Yi Beidou spoke. Seeing this man, he felt as if he were glimpsing his own reflection in a trance. The weight of the man's baleful aura was on par with his own Celestial Demon physique.

Perhaps, it was even greater.

To be able to manipulate such energy through a formation from nearly a hundred meters away—could this man be an ordinary person?

"You and I are different, after all. The baleful energy I carry has been accumulated gradually over these years, growing in tandem with my strength. But the aura you possess is innate, naturally gestated by the human body. How can they be compared?" Fang Xiuyuan replied with a smile.

Yi Beidou understood the logic.

The weight of Fang Xiuyuan’s baleful energy was a consequence of the path he walked. He traveled across mountains and rivers, slaying dragons and slaughtering phoenixes. But were dragons and phoenixes ever easy to slay?

Dragon veins were the vital essence of the earth; to slay them was to invite the loathing of heaven and earth. The energy of dragons and phoenixes would transform into a baleful aura, clinging to the body, corroding the mind and spirit, altering one's destiny, and making all endeavors difficult.

Fang Xiuyuan’s aura was something accumulated step-by-step through his cultivation, most of it gained after he had attained sainthood.

Yi Beidou, however, was heaven-born and earth-bred, his body naturally imbued with such power. Even before he reached sainthood, his aura was overwhelming; after he ascended, it became impossible to contain.

If a true comparison were made, the acquired could naturally never rival the innate.

"I read your dossier and understood that your slaying of dragons and phoenixes is for the sake of all living beings," Yi Beidou said.

"Hahahaha, that is too much praise. My slaying of dragons and phoenixes is, in part, to sever the dragon veins and bring prosperity to the common people, ensuring no single family or clan can ever bring chaos to the world again. But it is also for the sake of my own cultivation."

"In the past, the country was in great turmoil, and some led others to slay dragons—an unprecedented act that gave birth to this new age, the likes of which have not been seen in three thousand years. Today, I defy the taboos of geomancy, wishing to slay all the great dragons of the world, similarly desiring to do what no predecessor has dared. With all these karmic consequences binding me, I want to see the limits of this path and whether there are new horizons to be found." Fang Xiuyuan laughed as he spoke.

"A truly magnificent spirit. Would you be willing to offer some guidance?" Sensing that the man before him was a kindred spirit with a steadfast heart for the Way, a brilliant light ignited in Yi Beidou’s eyes.

"No rush. As I roam the world, though I have martial arts to defend myself, that is not my Great Way. I intend to slay the Great Dragon of Yunlao Mountain. I invite you to join me, and we shall see what the outcome brings. How about it?" Fang Xiuyuan asked.

"That is not impossible. It would be a good opportunity to grasp the momentum of the mountains and rivers." After a brief moment of reflection, Yi Beidou nodded, agreeing without further insistence.

"In that case, let us forge a bond of goodwill. I heard from the Killing-Heart Buddha that you wish to borrow this fierce sword in my hand to study it?" Fang Xiuyuan turned his gaze toward the long sword lying before him, wrapped in golden thread and acting as the anchor for the formation.

"Indeed. I am currently studying martial arts and wish to grasp the true essence of sainthood within it."

"It is fine to lend you this Heart-Severing Sword, but based on what you said, you seem to possess the ability to empathize with the true intent of objects. I must warn you of the dangers."

"This sword belonged to a peerless, vicious man from ancient times. He had no name, no surname—he had even cut away his own name, leaving no record in history. He entered the Path of Ruthlessness through slaughter, killing enemies, kin, and eventually himself. During that chaotic era of shifting dynasties, he stirred up monstrous waves. This sword was infused with his true intent and witnessed his attainment of sainthood. The murderous intent and baleful energy within it can warp the human heart. Historically, those who obtained this sword and resonated with it were all consumed by its influence; their murderous impulses became uncontrollable, and they met miserable ends."

"Over these years, this sword has been by my side, accompanying me in slaying dragons and phoenixes, absorbing the baleful energy of the earth’s veins—layering malice upon malice. You must have felt it just now; forty percent of the baleful energy in this formation comes from this blade. In truth, even I cannot truly master it; I have always used it merely as a 'Dharma artifact,' a focal point to set up my formations and walk my path." Fang Xiuyuan said with a solemn expression.

"My intent is to subdue all baleful spirits. Why should I fear a mere sword?" Yi Beidou said calmly.

"Then, I wish you success." Knowing that Yi Beidou’s will was iron-clad, Fang Xiuyuan did not attempt to persuade him further. He reached out slightly, gesturing for him to proceed.

Yi Beidou stepped forward, gripped the hilt, and pulled the long sword from its scabbard.

Though meticulously maintained, the blade was still mottled with age and covered in bloodstains. The blood had seeped into the steel, and a ferocious, baleful aura surged toward the heavens.

As Yi Beidou’s consciousness sank into the blade, he immediately sensed the many lingering remnants of intent.

*Kill! Kill! Kill!*

Figures flickered like light and shadow, clutching this sword in a state of frenzied obsession. Finally, these images vanished, settling upon a single figure.

This figure wore ancient garb; his face was obscured, and his name was forever lost.

It was a pitch-black, windy night with no moonlight, set amidst a sprawling residence of pavilions and halls.

The man stood calmly in a pool of blood, his sword held steady. On the ground lay a heap of corpses.

Among these corpses were his father, his sister, his mother, and various other loved ones.

The scene shifted to a forest. The ground was again littered with bodies. A young girl, her face smeared with blood, used her last ounce of strength to tug at the man’s pant leg.

The man’s expression shifted several times before he suddenly swung his blood-stained sword. The girl’s arm was severed, and then, with a single thrust, he drove the blade into her eye socket.

The world went silent, and the man’s expression turned utterly tranquil.

Through their empathic connection, Yi Beidou felt the man’s entire journey—from hesitation to confusion, to absolute stillness.

Images flashed through his mind: blood mixed with serenity, serenity containing madness, and a level of spiritual contamination that would be unbearable for any ordinary person.

The things this man had done were entirely contrary to the laws of heaven and human morality, and the baleful energy within him was as vast as the sea.

He was a peerless monster, a peerless fanatic, and perhaps, a madman.

*Heart burdened by attachments? How can one seek the Way? Kill!*

*Ties to the mortal world remain? How can one seek the Way? Kill!*

*Mind clouded and restless? How can one seek the Way? Kill!*

To pursue the supreme Way in his heart, he severed every attachment. Anyone who caused his mind to waver was slaughtered. He even cut away his own name, and the people of that time called him "Nameless."

Until his heart no longer stirred, until there were no more ties to the world, only a heart seeking the Way remained within his chest. The pursuit of the Way was the only reason he lived.

Driven by this fanatical realization, he attained sainthood in the flesh. He traveled the world, creating boundless slaughter, and soon had no equal.

Because his murderous nature was so extreme, and to prevent future generations from imitating his path, no one recorded him in the annals of history, hoping he would be forgotten forever.

He could advance no further. While wandering between the mountains and rivers, he suddenly realized that his own body was an obstacle.

"If there were no burden of the flesh, no shackles of form, would my Way not go further? It must be cut!"

In a mountain cave, the man drew his sword and struck at his own body. He shaved away his sanctified flesh piece by piece, revealing the ghastly white bone and his internal organs beneath.

The immense vitality of his sanctified body sustained him as he carved away nearly two-thirds of his own frame into a skeleton.

It was a scene of horror that defied words.

Killing enemies, killing kin, and killing oneself—Fang Xiuyuan’s words held not a shred of falsehood.

As his life reached its end, the man suddenly seemed to have an epiphany and burst into loud laughter: "Hahahaha! I see it!! I see it!!"

"What do you see?" Yi Beidou frowned slightly, subconsciously asking in his heart as he witnessed this.

This man was utterly obsessed. Could it be that in this extreme behavior, he had realized something extraordinary? Had he seen the path ahead?

The next moment, as if responding to Yi Beidou’s query, the blood-soaked, skeletal figure turned his head abruptly. His horrific eyes, from which the eyeballs had been gouged out, seemed to cross the span of time to lock gazes with Yi Beidou.

A strange, eerie smile touched his mangled lips.

"I see..."

"You!!!"