Transmigrated as the Villain’s Sword - Chapter 43

The scene was deathly silent. Zhen Xuzi and Li Yuan stared at each other, their eyes bloodshot.

The ancestral graves had been bombed. As the current generation of leaders, they could not escape blame even if they died ten thousand deaths. Behind them, the disciples huddled like quails; not a single soul dared to disturb them at such a moment.

The veins on Zhen Xuzi’s forehead bulged. He was nearly driven mad by rage. Just as black spots danced before his eyes and he almost fainted, he remembered something. At that moment, a disciple in Lingxiao Sect robes tremblingly approached Zhen Xuzi with a communicator. “Sect—Sect Leader, Senior Brother says he has something to report.”

Zhen Xuzi looked at the person on the screen, his heart trembling.

The disciple said, “Sect Leader, Ancestor Moshan’s soul lamp went out this morning.”

A soul lamp extinguished meant the death of both body and soul.

Zhen Xuzi suppressed the urge to spit blood and looked toward the woman who was fighting on par with Ancestor Moyun. A terrifying storm brewed deep in his eyes.

Who else would dare, and who else would be capable of killing an Ancestor of the Lingxiao Sect, if not this woman?

At this time, the contest between Guan Luowei and Ancestor Moyun finally reached its climax. With the support of the Divine Artifact, Guan Luowei’s advantage was obvious. Ancestor Moyun hadn’t even managed to touch the hem of her clothes before he was forced back toward the Lingxiao Sect ranks, his blood energy surging violently.

Ancestor Moyun suppressed the metallic taste of blood in his throat. He narrowed his eyes at the drifting white-clad woman and said venomously, “If this woman is not eliminated, my Lingxiao Sect will never know a day of peace.”

On the other side, Ling Chenyan had transformed into her human form. She was pulling at Guan Luowei, checking her over. “Highness, are you alright?”

Tong Di had shuffled over to Ling Chenyan’s side at some point. “With that old man’s strength, how could he possibly beat our Highness!”

Guan Luowei glanced at him, then turned her gaze to the girl before her. “I am fine.”

“That’s good.” Ling Chenyan felt relieved. She looked at the massive crowd before them with a hint of schadenfreude. “Have they noticed yet?”

Guan Luowei looked up at the hideous expressions on the faces of Zhen Xuzi and the others. She curled her lips. “They should know by now.”

Otherwise, their faces wouldn’t be that dark.

At that moment, Zhen Xuzi directed a poisonous glare toward Guan Luowei. His lips moved as he whispered something to Ancestor Moyun. Suddenly, Moyun seemed to go mad; his spiritual power exploded in an instant, and he charged toward Guan Luowei with a roar.

His eyes were crimson and his face contorted, his spiritual aura far more vicious and feral than before. Compared to his current state, his previous fighting seemed like child’s play.

Guan Luowei naturally wouldn’t fight him right there. She flicked her body into the void, with Ancestor Moyun following close behind. Every collision between them felt like mountains collapsing and the earth splitting, causing the very heavens to change color.

Now, not only Ling Chenyan but even Tong Di could see that Ancestor Moyun’s state was wrong. He was fighting with the intent of mutual destruction; with every strike, he was willing to take a hit just to inflict a few wounds on Guan Luowei.

Ling Chenyan watched as blood began to seep through Guan Luowei’s white robes. She panicked. “Jinjin, can you immobilize that old man?”

The golden zither spirit slowly appeared in the air. He shook his head dejectedly at Ling Chenyan. “Sister Yinye, I’ve been used too many times these past few days. I can’t hold him. I’m sorry, Sister.”

Seeing the little spirit so downcast, Ling Chenyan gritted her teeth. “If I pluck the strings personally, it should still have an effect, right?”

“Of course, Sister,” Jinjin hesitated. “But you might not necessarily be able to move me.”

It was true that he had recognized Ling Chenyan as his master, but if Ling Chenyan’s own cultivation wasn’t high enough, she couldn’t pluck him, let alone manifest the artifact’s power.

“I’ll try,” Ling Chenyan said through gritted teeth. “Jinjin, help me focus the sound’s effect solely on that old man.”

“Alright.”

As the combatants above fought tooth and nail, the Old Demon Emperor watched the scene and knew this wouldn’t end peacefully. While the Lingxiao Sect crowd was still reeling from the shock of the graves, he quietly signaled to the demon guards behind him.

Thus, when the first scream erupted from the Lingxiao Sect ranks, Zhen Xuzi snapped his head back toward the Old Emperor. “You old scoundrel! You’re launching a sneak attack?!”

“You’re mistaken,” the Old Emperor replied with his usual smile, beckoning to Zhen Xuzi and Li Yuan. “This is called ‘tactics’.”

Zhen Xuzi and Li Yuan were already suffocating with rage over their ancestral graves. Seeing the Old Emperor’s smug look, they could no longer hold back and charged forward. The battle erupted instantly.

None of this mattered to Ling Chenyan. When she brought out the Deceptive God Zither and placed her fingers on the strings, it felt as if the music were already written in her soul. Her fingertips slid naturally, and a sequence of notes drifted out, turning into a magical power that enveloped the Ancestor. She was completely immersed; as her fingers danced, the zither emitted a hum, as if resonating with her at that very moment.

Ling Chenyan had a strange feeling—she felt that the zither was supposed to be this close to her, that it belonged to her. The music was elegant, and the cascading notes danced in the air. A sense of déjà vu flickered in her mind, yet it felt incredibly distant.

The range of the music expanded unconsciously, enveloping both sides of the conflict. The demons felt as if they were aided by a secret art, fighting with increasing bravery. In contrast, some of the righteous disciples began to harbor thoughts of retreat.

Zhen Xuzi heard the strangeness of the music. Li Yuan, who was also fighting, heard it too. As he retreated, he let out a roar: “Zither Sect disciples, form the array and cast the spell!”

At his command, the Zither Sect disciples who were fighting the demons suddenly retreated and formed a bizarre formation. They sat down and brought out their instruments. The jumble of various musical notes began to form a musical array that rivaled Ling Chenyan’s.

The battle raged on. The righteous disciples were numerous, and the demons were fighting two-to-one; for a time, no winner could be discerned. Even the Old Emperor, facing Li Yuan and Zhen Xuzi simultaneously, did not fall behind. Once his domineering demonic energy entered their bodies, it would wreak havoc within the cultivators; thus, Li Yuan and Zhen Xuzi fought with great frustration.

Suddenly, a sound of the void shattering rang out from above. A figure plummeted rapidly from the sky. Everyone’s gaze was uncontrollably drawn to the person; after all, the outcome of the top-tier combatants was the key to this war.

Under the collective gaze of the crowd, the figure slowly appeared—it was Guan Luowei, her robes stained crimson with blood!

The demons’ pupils shrank, unable to believe their Highness had lost. In contrast, the Lingxiao Sect crowd was filled with joy; the courage they had lost seemed to return in an instant.

The demon morale plummeted while the Sect’s soared.

Ling Chenyan stopped playing the moment she saw Guan Luowei. Seeing her covered in blood, her tears nearly fell. “Highness, you…” Before she could finish, she was already holding out a pile of pill bottles. “Highness, quick, take these to recover.”

Guan Luowei shook her head, her lips pale. She looked solemnly at the sky, which was growing increasingly dark. “Something is wrong.”

Ling Chenyan looked up. The sky was so dark it looked ready to drip ink. Fierce winds howled and dark clouds piled up. The black-robed Ancestor stood in the air, his robes snapping in the wind, revealing only his remaining upper body.

At the same time, a raspy, hideous cackle echoed between heaven and earth: “I have spent my life roaming the world and created countless techniques. Now, look upon my greatest creation…”

As his voice faded, so did his remaining upper body.

“Using flesh and soul as a sacrifice, fall into eternal nightmare.”

The world turned pitch black. The sky above the Demon Realm was completely covered in darkness; not an inch of sunlight could pierce through. The old man’s figure had vanished, leaving no physical attack—only a Demon Realm plunged into total darkness.

Zhen Xuzi watched the scene, closed his eyes, and trembled. In three days, his sect had lost three Ancestors! And the culprit was that demoness! He spat out a mouthful of blood in rage, his spiritual energy surging violently, but there was nothing he could do. Now that the Ancestor was defeated, they were no match for the demons. Zhen Xuzi and Li Yuan’s eyes flickered as they simultaneously gave the order: “Retreat!”

Cultivators can see their enemies even in the dark. The Old Emperor watched the crowd arrive in force and flee in panic. He stroked his beard with a chuckle, then walked to Guan Luowei’s side. “Weiwei, are you alright?”

Guan Luowei swallowed the pills Ling Chenyan had shoved at her and shook her head. “I am fine.”

The demons celebrated their victory, many shouting “Highness!” with excitement, their previous dejection gone.

The Old Emperor brought out a shark-pearl to light the area. He looked at the eternal night covering the Demon Realm with a heavy expression. “It seems he left us one last riddle before he died.”

Guan Luowei nodded. “We shall discuss this later. The Demon Realm has suddenly fallen into darkness; many will be panicked. Your Majesty should go and soothe our people first.”

The Old Emperor sighed helplessly. Looking at her cold demeanor in the dark, he asked, “Alright. Weiwei… you’ll stay for a while this time before leaving again, won’t you?”

Guan Luowei looked at the boundless darkness. “Depends on the situation.”

The Old Emperor nodded. “Forget it. No rush. Everyone, return to the clan to heal.”

Ling Chenyan held onto Guan Luowei’s sleeve all the way back to the Demon Palace. As the shark-pearls emitted their bright glow, Ling Chenyan finally saw the person before her clearly.

Guan Luowei’s face was as pale as paper. There wasn’t a single part of her clothing that wasn’t stained red with blood. Her hair was disheveled, and cold sweat stood on her forehead, as if she were enduring immense pain.

The sight she hadn’t seen in the dark was now exposed: a bloody hole had appeared in her right abdomen at some point, and blood was slowly seeping out under the white light.

Ling Chenyan’s tears were about to fall. Just as she was about to rush out for help, Guan Luowei grabbed her, panting slightly. “I am fine,” she whispered.

You call this ‘fine’?! Ling Chenyan was both angry and anxious. She was about to ignore her and head out, but Guan Luowei grabbed her arm. Ling Chenyan turned around just in time to see the woman collapse into her arms, still muttering “I’m fine.”

The smell of blood filled her nose. Ling Chenyan held her, wondering what she was even holding on for. As soon as the woman steadied herself, she covered the girl’s lips. “Help me to the bed.”

Ling Chenyan was extremely reluctant, but looking into those determined eyes, she gritted her teeth and did as she was told.

Guan Luowei sat cross-legged on the bed as if she had been soaked in a pool of blood. Her face was a mask of stoic agony, and cold sweat poured down. She slowly began to circulate her technique and entered a meditative state. Ling Chenyan couldn’t help, so she could only watch anxiously.

Finally, after an unknown amount of time, Guan Luowei slowly withdrew her aura and opened her eyes. Her face was still incredibly pale, but the visible wounds on her body were significantly better. She no longer looked like she was on the verge of death; she had some color of life back, though she remained very weak.

This was the first time Ling Chenyan had ever seen Guan Luowei in such a state.

“Are you better?” Ling Chenyan leaned in. “Should I call the demon doctor to take a look?”

Guan Luowei shook her head. She looked up into the girl’s watery eyes and clearly saw a look of deep heartache.

Guan Luowei’s heart stirred. Truthfully, such injuries were common in her past life. When the Demon Race was exterminated and she was the only one who escaped, there were several times she nearly died at their hands. But back then, the only one with her was the silent “Yinye.” Aside from the Old Emperor, she had never seen “heartache” in anyone’s eyes.

The demons wanted her to be strong so she could be the next Emperor. Outsiders looked at her with obsession, envy, or hatred. Only the shimmering heartache in the girl’s eyes was something she had rarely seen in either of her lives.

Guan Luowei panicked for a second, but she quickly regained her calm. “Yinye, don’t worry, I—”

Before the words “am fine” could leave her lips, she was pulled into a tight embrace. Guan Luowei could feel the girl’s moist breath against her ear—it felt like a complaint, or even anger at her for not taking care of herself. “How could I not worry? I am worried! There isn’t a white spot left on your clothes, you refuse to show your pain in front of others, and you won’t even call a doctor—just taking a few pills and suffering through it slowly. How can you tell me not to worry…”

The girl’s voice carried a sob. “If you die, what will I do?”

Guan Luowei’s breathing faltered. Hearing the sob, her heart grew chaotic. Realizing she was covered in blood and the smell of it, she instinctively tried to push the girl away, but the girl wouldn’t let go, hugging her even tighter.

Guan Luowei sighed softly. “I won’t die.”

The girl still wouldn’t let go. Guan Luowei hesitated, then softened her voice. “My body is dirty. Let go for a bit, okay?”

“No,” the girl clung to her waist, her voice muffled. “I’m not afraid of the dirt.”

Guan Luowei felt a stir in her heart. “I am,” she whispered.

I’m afraid of getting you dirty.

The girl fell silent, and Guan Luowei followed suit. She was nervous; she feared her words had made the girl think she was being pushed away. She feared the girl would be unhappy, and she even began to worry if her tone just now had been too cold. Every second of silence was a torment. Just as she was about to speak, the girl spoke first. Her voice sounded more stable, with a hint of shy complaint:

“Do you even know how to coax someone? You won’t even give me a hug.”

Guan Luowei’s worries finally crumbled. All that remained was the girl’s shy voice. Her throat rolled, and her hands at her sides finally, slowly, settled on the girl’s waist, tightening inch by inch—as if a heart that had been drifting for so long had finally found its home.

Author’s Note:

The three dead Ancestors: Is no one going to speak up for us?