From a Martial Arts Sect to an Immortal Cultivation Sect Chapter 74

The man in the bamboo hat saw the ghostly figure rushing toward him and was so startled that he hastily stirred his inner energy, roaring as he twisted his body to evade.

Yet, his right shoulder was still cut open by the sword before him, blood spraying into the air.

That ghostly figure surged forward, gripping her sword tightly, and followed through with a downward slash.

The man in the bamboo hat rolled away to dodge, the blade grazing above his nose and slicing his hat clean in two.

Just as he was about to counterattack, lightning burst forth from the sword’s edge, enveloping his entire body in an instant.

The indescribable pain made him scream uncontrollably before collapsing to the ground, rolling several times before finally coming to a stop.

Xu Ning halted her steps, flicking her sword downward to shake off the residual lightning vital energy.

The demonic cult martial artists watching nearby were terrified.

A young girl had grievously wounded the man in the bamboo hat before their eyes. None dared flee or attack—they simply waited for him to rise.

Xu Ning walked up to him and, with a single strike, severed his head. Lifting her sword, she looked coldly toward the demonic cult martial artists. This time, they completely panicked, unable to advance or retreat.

Jiang Kuotian and the group of martial experts who had lost their inner power recognized Xu Ning as well.

During the grand banquet at the White Emperor Manor months ago, Xu Ning had shone brighter than anyone, her brilliance unmatched.

“Xu Ning from the Clear Sky Sect is here too! With these two, their skills are extraordinary—there’s hope for us!”

“What speed… my eyes can’t even follow her sword…”

“Her sword seems even faster than before…”

“Look, there are more coming!”

Someone cried out in alarm as several figures appeared atop the city wall.

They were the Thirteen Sword Fiends under Jiang Zhaoxia’s command, standing on his left and right, their robes fluttering in the wind, exuding a chilling aura.

Jiang Zhaoxia looked down upon the demonic cult martial artists below, about to give the order—when Xu Ning suddenly charged forward with her sword.

Though the demonic cult members were terrified of her, they didn’t flee but met her head-on in battle.

Jiang Zhaoxia leapt down from the city wall, landing on the ground.

The Thirteen Sword Fiends followed closely behind. Yet before they had taken seven steps, Xu Ning had already finished the fight. Nine demonic cult warriors lay dead in pools of blood.

Seeing Xu Ning sheath her sword, the prisoners grew excited and hurried toward her.

Xu Ning also walked toward them, but as they drew close, she leapt past them—charging deeper into the city.

“What an extraordinary girl,” an old man sighed. Having roamed the martial world for decades, he had never seen such a fearsome young woman—strong in martial skill and ruthless in action.

Jiang Kuotian continued forward, glancing as Jiang Zhaoxia and his people approached. His expression turned complicated.

He remembered the first time he met Jiang Zhaoxia—then still a youth. Now he was grown, and the two had never gotten along. Seeing him again filled Jiang Kuotian with discomfort.

As they brushed shoulders, Jiang Zhaoxia’s voice came from behind him:

“Senior Brother only worried about you—that’s why he sent us ahead.”

Hearing this, Jiang Kuotian’s eyes reddened slightly. He said nothing, simply lowered his head and pressed on.

Xu Hong’s vision finally recovered. Seeing the corpses strewn before him, he let out a breath, though his feelings were mixed.

He remembered Xu Ning. Back at the White Emperor Manor, Xu Ning had slain two sect masters with astonishing swordsmanship.

He had planned that once he set out to temper himself in the martial world, he would seek out the Clear Sky Sect to spar with her.

Now, it seemed the gap between them was beyond comparison.

Footsteps echoed from the passageway by the city gate. A man’s voice followed:

“Advance according to formation! True disciples must not act alone! Logistics disciples, do not fall behind! Prioritize killing the enemy, then rescue the people!”

Before Xu Hong could turn his head, he felt a prick on his neck.

Turning slightly, he saw a woman not far away, hand still raised from throwing a needle.

It was Li Dongyue.

Li Dongyue looked at him and said, “Your injuries are severe. Don’t remove the needle. Leave the city.”

After speaking, Li Dongyue continued forward, with Liu Yan and the disciples of the Ghostly Immortal Needle of Rejuvenation following behind her.

Zhang Yuchun, Li Sifeng, Wu Man’er, and Li Sijin each led their own teams into the city as well. Their formations were disciplined and unbroken, every disciple of the Clear Sky Sect wearing a grave expression.

What they had witnessed along the way had deeply shaken them.

They knew once inside the city, a brutal battle awaited. None retreated.

If the demonic cult was not eradicated, their families, clans, and friends below the mountain would all be endangered—and they would never allow that to happen.

Su Xiling, Li Yang, and Zhao Linglong were also among the ranks, having volunteered to help.

“Don’t be soft-hearted like before. The demonic cult’s people are utterly depraved—their deaths are well deserved. Don’t give them any chance,” Zhao Linglong warned Li Yang solemnly.

Li Yang remained silent, though the fury in his eyes could no longer be hidden.

Since childhood, his goal had been to serve the nation through martial cultivation.

After becoming the top martial scholar, he bore the weight of the people’s lives on his shoulders.

Even when facing enemies from the martial world, he had never taken a life.

But this time, his rage could no longer be suppressed.

The countless corpses outside the city haunted his mind—igniting his killing intent.

All two hundred and ninety-three disciples of the Clear Sky Sect entered the city together.

None looked back as they walked toward this hellish prefecture.

At the city gate passage, Jiang Kuotian couldn’t help but turn around.

Looking at the disciples’ backs, he thought again of Lin Xunfeng.

He remembered Lin Xunfeng saying that he had once wished to greatly expand the Clear Sky Sect—to raise many disciples like himself and bring blessings to the world—but had to abandon that dream to search for his wife and child.

“Brother Lin, your disciples have fulfilled your wish. How could you not see this…”

Jiang Kuotian took a deep breath and turned to leave the city.

Now, staying would only hinder others. He couldn’t betray the goodwill of the Clear Sky Sect.

……

On a wide street lay the corpses of demonic cult martial artists.

At the end of the bloodied road stood Xu Ning’s back.

Sword in hand, Xu Ning advanced. Since entering the city, she had never once looked back.

“Slow down! Don’t rush into danger alone!”

A helpless voice came from the side—Thief King Cheng Canghai was running atop the rooftops, secretly astonished at Xu Ning’s ferocity.

That girl, normally just cold-natured, now radiated such murderous intent—it was terrifying.

Fortunately, she wasn’t his enemy.

Xu Ning didn’t answer him, but her steps slowed. It wasn’t out of fear of the demonic cult, but because she didn’t want to cause trouble for her sect or worry her elders.

“Up ahead is the battlefield between Xuandang and the demonic cult. There are even more of their experts there. Be careful—there might be ambushes nearby,” Cheng Canghai warned, his expression turning grave as he looked ahead.

Xu Ning tilted her head slightly toward him. “You seem very familiar with this place. I’ve followed the directions you gave, and indeed, the enemies I’ve met have grown stronger.”

Cheng Canghai grinned proudly. “I infiltrated here under the cover of night over half a month ago. I’ve scouted the situation, learned where the civilians are held, and mapped out the cult’s troop distribution.”

“Master sent you?”

“Of course. Your Master only trusts my lightness skill.”

Cheng Canghai rarely had the chance to show off before Xu Ning, so he was quite pleased with himself.

Xu Ning genuinely looked at him with newfound respect. To sneak alone into this perilous city—she herself wouldn’t have absolute confidence of making it out alive.

Truly, the Thief King’s name was well earned.

Ever since Li Qingqiu taught Cheng Canghai the Primordial Unity Scripture and the Wind Sprint Technique, his lightness skill had improved tremendously.

Coupled with his cultivation at the Second Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm, his agility could indeed be called peerless in the martial world.

Just then, Xu Ning stopped walking. Cheng Canghai halted beside her, both gazing forward.

At the end of the long, straight street walked a demonic cult expert wielding a broad saber, dressed much like the man in the bamboo hat earlier.

As he approached, more cultists emerged from the side alleys behind him—each clad in black, wearing identical ghastly demon masks, and holding sabers.

Even under daylight, the sight was chilling.

Xu Ning fixed her eyes on the foremost man—feeling, for the first time, a faint sense of danger.

“Let me handle this. Take a rest,” came a voice from behind.

Xu Ning glanced sideways to see Jiang Zhaoxia approaching with the Thirteen Sword Fiends.

It was Jiang Zhaoxia who had once saved her life, who—along with Zhang Yuchun—had brought her into the Clear Sky Sect. Yet as her talent later blossomed, the two had ceased speaking. They had competed silently ever since, neither admitting it aloud, but both knowing it well.

Had it been anyone else, Xu Ning would never have yielded—she wasn’t tired. But since Jiang Zhaoxia had spoken, she decided to let him take this one.

There would be no shortage of battles ahead.

Jiang Zhaoxia walked past her, the Thirteen Sword Fiends following closely as they drew their swords in unison.

Xue Jin had already reached the Second Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm, and the other Fiends had also trained for years—their skills formidable.

Following their Master Jiang Zhaoxia, they showed no fear, only fervent excitement.

Suddenly, the demonic cult warriors charged forward.

The one leading was so fast he looked like a spear, the air rippling visibly around him with surging force.

Jiang Zhaoxia gave a cold snort, drew his sword, and hurled it forth.

The blade flew across the street, sword energy scattering in every direction.

His sword was even faster than Xu Ning’s, forcing the leading cultist to raise his saber in defense.

The scene mirrored Xu Ning’s earlier attack upon entering the city—except this time, the cultist failed to block it.

The sword cleaved straight through the saber, then his neck, and continued its deadly path through the ranks.

In an instant, the long sword hovered thirty zhang away in midair, while behind it, the demonic cult warriors’ bodies spurted blood and fell backward like waves.

One sword strike—forty-three slain!

The Thirteen Sword Fiends breathed heavily, eyes blazing with fervor.

Standing on the rooftop, Cheng Canghai’s eyelids twitched violently.

It was the first time he had witnessed Jiang Zhaoxia’s swordplay—terrifying beyond words.

Xu Ning’s gaze shifted toward the courtyard wall beside the street, where visible cracks had appeared—marks left by the sword’s aura.

Jiang Zhaoxia continued forward, with the others following. Zhang Yuchun, Li Dongyue, and their disciples advanced close behind, the distance between their groups not far.

Wu Man’er and Li Sifeng guarded the rear, wary of ambushes.

When Jiang Zhaoxia reached his sword, he raised his hand to grasp it but didn’t sheath it—instead, he paused.

“The Clear Sky Sect truly lives up to its name. No wonder three of my Protectors and the Seven Fiends perished at your hands.”

A hoarse voice echoed through the air—it was the Demon Emperor.

The moment the words fell, shadows leapt out from all surrounding courtyards, their numbers swelling rapidly.

Cheng Canghai’s expression changed drastically, and he grew instantly alert.