Chapter 607: Chapter 552: Merits and Demerits Offset_3
She flicked her fingers and sent a bead from her palm into Hong Zhuang’s bosom with a ding, calmly saying, “You birthed me, raised me, despised me, abandoned me. I remember this kindness and should be grateful without complaint, but this kindness…”
She emotionlessly drew the Spirit Sword from within her body. The barbs brutally sliced through sinews and bones, bringing out a sorrowful red of flesh and blood, “Consider it offset by this arrow’s strike, shall we?”
It was a clear day, the river frosty, under a moon so white.
Everything in sight froze in that moment.
Baili An stood amidst this illusion, lifting his gaze to the soon-fading moon.
Moonlight reflected, and suddenly, the shadow beneath his feet began writhing.
A man wrapped in mist, holding a night-blooming cereus, emerged floatingly, his face unclear, a flicker of bright fire at his collar.
“Meet the Lord of Three Rivers from the Demon World, Wang Yi,” his voice was inexplicably pure and refreshing. No trace of Demonic Qi could be sensed from him; his silhouette seemed more like that of a refined gentleman from the Mortal World rather than someone from the Demon World.
Baili An hadn’t expected that the person who set up tonight’s scenario was the ever-mysterious Wang Yi from Three Rivers.
It was said that this person slept in an unknown place, defying the Summoning of the Demon Lord several times, and yet for some unknown reason, he had appeared here in this illusion today.
Baili An looked at him and calmly asked, “Do people who wake from a long sleep always like to do boring things?”
The man before him smiled quietly, lifted his arm, and the white night-blooming cereus in his fingertips transformed into a gloomy silver Longsword. Sword Qi twined around the blade, displaying a lavish beauty of tender entanglement under the moonlight.
He smiled and said, “I don’t particularly like Zangxin. If someone could kill him for me at the Monarch’s Return Banquet, I might truly be able to sleep afterwards. Therefore, I have specifically arranged this banquet today, inviting the Lords of Si He and Liu He to come here to observe the sword.”
Baili An looked at the sword in his hand but didn’t speak.
“This Sword is called the Sword of Punishment; it can sever dreams of myriad forms. As long as the Lord of Liu He is willing to wield this sword and kill the dreamer, he can break through this realm.”
Breaking through the realm meant breaking through both the illusion and one’s cultivation level.
Baili An did not take the sword, but instead sincerely suggested, “Why don’t you kill the dream and break through yourself, then go kill Zangxin?”
It was not his intention to let others do his dirty work. None of the Lords from the Demon World’s Liu He were easy to trick, and if Wang Yi claimed he was here today just to gift an opportunity through a dream…
Who would believe that?
Faced with rejection, Wang Yi wasn’t agitated. He gently toyed with the Longsword, softly laughing, “Perhaps you are not aware, the Sword of Punishment, ‘Xiangsi’ means lovesickness – severing dreams, severing thoughts. Those harboring sentiments can be severed by this sword. Today, if you wield the sword against Si He, you shall inherit her power of Mohe and leave this place.”
“Of course, I am fair. On the other side, Si He is likely scrutinizing my past. Once the story scatters with the wind and snow, another me will also present a sword.”
His laughter gradually unceased, “What sort of temperament she has, you have seen with your own eyes. Unlike you, hesitating, full of womanly compassion, she will not hesitate upon seeing the sword.”
“If she slays you in the dream, your future fate might rot and sink alongside this sea of night-blooming cereus.”
“That makes sense.” Baili An nodded, apparently spooked yet persuaded. He promptly took the Sword of Punishment and, under the expectant, smiling gaze of the man, he swung the sword, shattering the man before him into countless fragmented pieces.
He looked at the Sword Qi twining around the blade and lightly said, “Utterly boring.”
Wang Yi’s consciousness began to fade from this dreamscape, and lastly, his hesitant voice emerged, “Truly surprising, not a hint of hesitation or wavering. I am not sure whether to call you terrifying or naive. This Lord of Liu He is indeed unlike those of the past.”
Baili An lifted the Longsword, its reflective tip mirroring a pair of dark, calm eyes.
He had long seen through this dreamscape, how to choose was up to him, not forced by others presenting a dichotomous decision.
He positioned the sword’s edge at his neck, his expression indifferent as he glanced towards Ning Feiyan in the frozen frame, suddenly chuckling, “Liars. No girl is unafraid of pain.”
With a slight frown, Baili An was about to end this utterly boring illusion.
Just then, in the still forest, a myriad of butterflies arose. A pale, cold hand slipped through the butterflies, nimbly deflecting the sword’s force, seizing the handle, flipping the sword body, and lightly tapping Baili An’s head with the smooth side of the sword mirror.
A familiar, languid voice teased by his ear, “Suicide really isn’t for you, Sword Concealing Gentleman.”