Chapter 633: Upon This Return, I Will Slaughter Seven Hundred in White

Demonic Energy Explosion Fog.

As the spatial rift sealed, Xu Xiaoshou, holding a straw hat, saw a fleeting image of Sang Lao losing control of the arrow. In that instant, the arrow pierced him, and he was engulfed in boundless demonic energy.

That arrow could obliterate the body of anyone without physical cultivation.

But it failed to completely destroy Sang Lao's physical form.

The true terror of the Evil Sin Bow's arrow was not its explosive force, but its power to corrupt with demonic energy.

A faint hiss sounded.

The spatial rift fully closed.

Xu Xiaoshou couldn't see what happened next.

He had completely encased himself in Three Days Frozen Calamity to protect his body from the shredding spatial turbulence.

A streak of red light flashed before his eyes.

“Little one…”

The Storyteller appeared, wrapping an arm around the ice sculpture.

Even he had no inclination for jokes at that moment.

Silently, he carried Xu Xiaoshou away, the two of them slipping out of the spatial turbulence and into another void, far from the battlefield.

As for the second-in-command…

The Storyteller chose not to go back and help.

With his current abilities, going back would only mean death.

After all, even Gou Wuyue, who had his head blown off by a punch, was not easily killed.

The Storyteller was already struggling against a Tai Xu realm expert and could only protect himself.

Much less against a Tai Xu realm sword immortal!

“Quickly, quickly!”

“Keep up, keep up.”

“The Sword Realm has shattered; the battle must be over. This is our chance to clean up the aftermath. We can't be late.”

“Heavens, I never expected the Holy Slave's second-in-command to show up. I wonder how the final confrontation with Senior Gou Wuyue turned out…”

“Nonsense!”

“Is there even a question? Senior Gou Wuyue must have been completely defeated by the Holy Slave. What else could have happened?”

“Remember, that's one of the Seven Sword Immortals of this era, one of the two supreme rulers of the Holy God Hall… Uh?”

A crowd of white-robed figures rushed toward the battlefield.

Amidst their discussions, they all expressed regret at not having witnessed the battle firsthand.

After all, it was a battle involving a Tai Xu expert.

Even those at the Dao-Severing realm tried to gain insights from it, hoping to advance themselves and step into that legendary realm.

But when they finally arrived at the battlefield, their bustling chatter fell silent as everyone was stunned.

In the distance, amidst the shattered mountains, a headless corpse slowly floated into the air.

The crowd looked over.

Although the corpse's clothes were tattered and soaked in blood,

traces of pale blue could still be seen in the rags.

Among them all, only the Sword Immortal Gou Wuyue wore blue.

“This…”

The crowd was horrified.

Had the Sword Immortal Gou Wuyue been decapitated?

“By the heavens, was this the work of the Holy Slave's second-in-command?”

“These crumbled peaks, these ruins… What on earth happened here?”

“Is Senior Gou Wuyue still alive?”

Number Thirty-Three held the unconscious Cen Qiaofu in one hand, staring in shock at the floating blue figure.

He sensed a faint trace of life from it.

But if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he could hardly believe Gou Wuyue had suffered such a severe injury!

Was the Holy Slave's second-in-command truly that powerful?

Whoosh!

In a flash, Number Thirty-Three appeared beside the headless body.

“Senior Gou Wuyue?”

“I… I'm fine.”

Gou Wuyue held out a hand, stopping him from helping.

Number Thirty-Three looked at the mangled body, with its head and neck completely gone.

Fine…

He was silent for a moment.

“Look!”

More exclamations erupted from the white-robed crowd.

Everyone turned to see, amidst the voids in the sky, a mass of black energy swirling in the air—black, yet distinctly different from the power of black holes.

“Demonic energy?”

All were puzzled.

This demonic energy didn't resemble the fierce aura of the Four Swords' demons; it seemed more like the eruption of inner desires gone awry, leading to demonic possession.

“Who?”

The fog obscured the figure within.

Based on their judgment, it was almost certainly the other combatant, the Holy Slave's second-in-command, Wu Xiu.

“The Evil Sin Bow's arrow?”

Among the white-robed figures, those with experience recognized it immediately.

That arrow piercing through the void hadn't been visible only to those in the Eight Palaces' battle.

Nearly everyone in the Eastern Domain with cultivation at the Sovereign level or above had caught a glimpse of its terrifying power.

Now, Wu Xiu's state suggested he had been struck by Ai Cangsheng's arrow.

“So, Senior Gou Wuyue couldn't handle the Holy Slave's Wu Xiu alone and needed Master Ai Cangsheng's help to fire that arrow and finally take him down?”

Some white-robed figures quickly pieced it together in their minds.

The scene left them no choice but to speculate.

“Shut up!”

Number Thirty-Three snapped at them.

Were they tired of living? Senior Gou Wuyue had only lost his head; he hadn't completely lost consciousness!

The white-robed figures realized their mistake and quickly fell silent.

Azure Tai Xu energy swirled around.

Gou Wuyue's head began to slowly regrow, taking a good half an hour before it was fully reformed.

“Xiao Shi Tan Ji…”

Gou Wuyue murmured softly, his eyes filled with mixed thoughts, lost in contemplation.

With a wave of his hand, he opened his domain, and Yu Zhiwen appeared at his side.

Number Thirty-Three was surprised.

This woman might be unfamiliar to others, but his knowledge base had records of her.

“Miss Yu Zhiwen.”

Number Thirty-Three bowed slightly, his voice laced with respect.

Yu Zhiwen ignored him completely. The moment she appeared, she urgently turned to Gou Wuyue.

“Where's Xu Xiaoshou?”

“Xu Xiaoshou?”

Gou Wuyue was slightly taken aback.

“The golden giant!”

Yu Zhiwen's starry eyes were full of worry.

Gou Wuyue suddenly understood.

Xiao Shi Tan Ji…

So it wasn't his real name after all.

Was Xu Xiaoshou just another false alias for that young man?

“Are you very familiar with him?”

Gou Wuyue asked softly.

His gaze flicked to Sang Qiye, still roaring and struggling in the void, lost to madness and desire. Even without his head fully regrown, a single technique—“Man as Sword”—had pinned Sang Qiye in place, preventing any wild attacks.

“Very!”

Yu Zhiwen nodded firmly, turning her head to look as well.

She knew Ai Cangsheng's arrow had been aimed at Xu Xiaoshou.

Though she didn't know why, from the outcome…

“He—he…”

Yu Zhiwen pointed at the demonic fog, her voice trembling. “Was he hit by the arrow?”

Number Thirty-Three, observing the scene, realized this was beyond his involvement and quietly withdrew, vanishing from sight.

“No, not him.”

Gou Wuyue shook his head. “The one struck was his master, Sang Qiye. As for Xu Xiaoshou… he's gone.”

Yu Zhiwen's expression tightened.

Then, as if a weight had been lifted, her voice softened.

“Is he safe?”

She murmured to herself, almost unconsciously repeating the words.

Gou Wuyue watched her reaction, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he stepped closer and asked, “You're very familiar with him—what's your relationship?”

“I…”

Yu Zhiwen caught the implication, her ears turning red.

“No, Senior Gou Wuyue, it's not what you think. I met him in the White Cavern. He's an incredible person; I just want to… recruit him into the Holy God Hall.”

“That's all.”

“Just that?”

Gou Wuyue smiled faintly. “Just that?”

“Yes.”

Yu Zhiwen averted her gaze, her eyes darting around. She noticed the crowd of white-robed figures and realized she had left the White Cavern, now in the Eight Palaces.

That meant the battle here was likely over.

She had only caught the tail end of it.

“Xu Xiaoshou…”

Gou Wuyue muttered to himself, deciding not to press further about their relationship.

Or rather, his interest in this young man from the Holy Slave had overshadowed his curiosity about the holy maiden's personal matters.

“You said you met him in the Holy Slave and know him well—how well?”

“Yes.”

“How well, exactly?”

Gou Wuyue paused before adding, “I mean, in terms of recruiting him into the Holy God Hall, what makes him worth it?”

Yu Zhiwen's mind flashed to Xu Xiaoshou's ever-unpredictable demeanor, and she spoke urgently.

“This person is incredibly talented—in potential, strategy, skills…”

“He's unlike anyone I've ever met.”

Yu Zhiwen turned to face Gou Wuyue directly, emphasizing, “Among all the young talents I've seen at headquarters.”

After a pause, she summed it up.

“He's extraordinarily strong. Given time, he could reach heights like yours. We must recruit him into the Holy God Hall, bring him to headquarters.”

“Because he's at a crossroads now. If we're not careful, he might…”

Seeing Gou Wuyue suddenly fall into thought, Yu Zhiwen stopped mid-sentence.

“Senior?”

“Heights like mine…” Gou Wuyue didn't respond, instead gazing at the swirling demonic fog in the sky.

Xu Xiaoshou's performance under Ai Cangsheng's arrow had truly impressed him.

And this young man wasn't just Sang Qiye's disciple; he was also under Ba Zun An's cultivation.

Yu Zhiwen's words carried weight for Gou Wuyue.

He even thought that with such support, if this young man were allowed to grow…

“Maybe even beyond my heights…”

Gou Wuyue kept these thoughts to himself.

He turned to Yu Zhiwen with a sigh. “Little Yu, you know so much about this young man, but it seems you've overlooked something.”

“Huh?”

Yu Zhiwen parted her lips, confused.

“I told you.”

Gou Wuyue pointed to the demonic energy. “He's Xu Xiaoshou's master!”

Yu Zhiwen still hadn't caught on.

Gou Wuyue sighed again. “Don't you know? Your so-called Xu Xiaoshou has already fully joined the Holy Slave.”

Thud.

Yu Zhiwen's heart sank.

When it hit her, her face turned pale in an instant.

Stiffly, she shifted her gaze back to the demonic fog and suddenly understood.

Of course.

This was the Holy Slave's second-in-command, Wu Xiu.

That meant he was the vice-dean of Tian Sang Spirit Palace, Sang Lao.

Xu Xiaoshou's master…

So, he really was part of the Holy Slave all along?

The conclusion she had deduced in the White Cavern but dismissed from her heart now surged back into her mind.

Yu Zhiwen was speechless for a moment.

It was hopeless…

That was her true feeling now.

“So, all of this was destined from the start?”

“Ah.”

Gou Wuyue, as an experienced elder, could see through the young woman's hidden personal motives beyond her sense of duty.

But their positions and allegiances were different.

Some people, some fates, were set in stone and unchangeable.

He said no more and offered no advice.

As the holy maiden of the Holy God Hall, Yu Zhiwen had the highest level of resolve; such fleeting emotions wouldn't shake her core.

With a sigh, Gou Wuyue stepped toward the demonic fog.

It was time to end this mess…

“Sword.”

With a gesture, he summoned it.

The famed sword Nu Lan rang out with a clang, leaping from the ground into his palm.

Gou Wuyue raised the famed sword high.

“All…”

The white-robed figures stood ready, solemn.

Even Number Thirty-Three straightened up.

But before Gou Wuyue could finish his command,

suddenly, beneath the void's demonic fog, an illusory pink-white crabapple flower bloomed.

Swish, swish, swish!

In an instant, the white-robed figures turned alert.

The crabapple flower enveloped from below, as if to whisk everyone away quietly.

“How dare you?!”

Gou Wuyue's heart trembled.

He hadn't expected Hai Tang Er, who had escaped, to dare return.

With a furious shout, the famed sword transformed into an azure light stream, bursting forth just as the flower was about to close, piercing it completely and blasting it apart.

Gou Wuyue's chest tightened with unease.

He leaped forward, landing at Sang Qiye's side.

With a sweep of his sleeve, he retrieved Sang Qiye.

Only then did he realize he was drenched in cold sweat.

The Holy Slave's return strike had come at the most relaxed moment for everyone, nearly succeeding even against him, Gou Wuyue.

“Thankfully…”

“Thankfully, Sang Qiye couldn't resist…”

Gou Wuyue felt a wave of relief, but before it fully settled, a thought struck him rigid.

If Hai Tang Er had returned, what about Ba Zun An?

If Ba Zun An was back, how could he have failed to snatch Sang Qiye while Gou Wuyue was distracted?

A chill ran down his spine. Gou Wuyue's pupils shrank as he realized.

He whipped around, looking toward where Number Thirty-Three had been.

“Yo.”

A teasing voice rang out.

“A bit slow on the uptake, aren't you? Getting old, Gou Wuyue?”

Ba Zun An's tone was mocking, but his turbid eyes burned with cold killing intent.

The temperature across the field dropped sharply.

“The Eighth Sword Immortal?”

“Ba Zun An!”

The white-robed figures cried out in alarm, filled with terror.

No one had anticipated that the legendary figure would really dare to return.

“Ba Zun An…”

Number Thirty-Three felt his entire body tense.

Even without spiritual sense, from the shocked gazes of the crowd, he could guess who stood behind him.

“Die!”

Still holding Cen Qiaofu, Number Thirty-Three didn't hesitate, spinning around to unleash a powerful punch.

“No!”

Gou Wuyue shouted.

But it was too late.

The arrow was drawn; it had to fly.

Number Thirty-Three couldn't expose his back to this man of legend.

As he retreated, his violent punch hurtled forward.

Buzz!

The air rippled.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

In Number Thirty-Three's peripheral vision, he could see Gou Wuyue's anxious expression rising with the shout, and the worried faces and movements of his white-robed comrades.

And the man before him…

Ba Zun An was smiling.

The fist approached, mere inches away, but he merely turned his head slightly.

Sssch!

Number Thirty-Three felt a sharp pain in his arm and saw his right arm fly off, completely severed.

This…

His heart trembled.

Instinctively, he kicked out, aiming a knee strike.

But his movements were agonizingly slow, not even a fraction of normal speed.

Ba Zun An still smiled.

He lowered his head, eyes narrowing.

The same piercing pain struck his knee.

Sssch!

His leg was severed and drifted away slowly.

Number Thirty-Three tried to struggle, to fight back.

“Ah.”

Ba Zun An sighed, stepping forward onto the crabapple flower.

To everyone else, the slowed time resumed its flow.

But Number Thirty-Three, amidst the crisscrossing sword intent, was slashed into pieces in a series of swishes.

A golden energy core was knocked loose.

As the others moved to help, they felt the flow of time in the world slow again.

Then, they saw Ba Zun An, holding his small withered branch, gently poke and twist the energy core.

Crack!

The energy core shattered.

Time returned to normal.

Gou Wuyue's foot had just lifted, and the white-robed figures' hearts had barely settled.

Yet…

Number Thirty-Three was gone!

Thud, thud, thud…

The parts of the Tianji Puppet scattered across the ground with heavy impacts.

Cen Qiaofu's body fell, swallowed by the crabapple flower.

Everyone stared at the man atop the petals, silent as death.

He clearly only had Houtian cultivation…

He clearly had hesitated earlier, not daring to act…

But why…

“Cough.”

Ba Zun An coughed lightly, his eyes now entirely different from before.

One glance made everyone's eyes sting and their souls chill.

The icy killing intent was worlds apart from earlier.

“I didn't want to kill…”

Ba Zun An murmured, tapping the withered branch against his palm. He scanned the surroundings, his eyes devoid of mercy, his tone shifting.

“You can take Sang Qiye. I won't remove Ai Cangsheng's demonic energy anyway.”

He paused.

Straightening his posture, his aura pierced the sky, his words laced with anger that echoed everywhere.

“But now that I've returned, I will slaughter seven hundred white-robed figures as a farewell rite for my friend!”

“You may take your people…”

“But if my friend dies, I will storm the Holy Hall and break every mountain of osmanthus flowers!”