Daqin Zhentiansi

"They're insane! They're all insane! The fighting is still going on up ahead!" A small merchant was so frightened that his legs went weak and he dared not move.

The bolder merchants, especially those who had honed their skills in the northern border trade, actually pushed small carts, braving the barrage of crossbow bolts and exploding spells, searching for treasure amidst pools of blood and piles of demonic corpses.

They even tried to bargain with the giant centipede that had just been dragged up and wasn't quite dead yet: "Sir! Sir! How about fifty catties of sea salt for the ten hardest segments of its carapace? I'll take care of the carcass!"

Zhao Dahu, a half-demon soldier struggling to pull on the giant centipede's chains, grinned, his mouth spitting out foul-smelling blood and foam: "Haha, trying to snag a bargain? Wait till I chop it up! Want to buy it? I'll give it to you alive, but do you dare carry it back? Hahahaha!"

The scene of fierce military battles contrasts sharply with the bustling merchants.

On one side is a brutal killing machine engulfed in blood and fire, and on the other is an inextinguishable desire for profit, both supporting the operation of this war fortress.

This is the Qin Dynasty.

Only with the iron-fisted protection of the military can the people pursue their interests with peace of mind.

On the bastion.

Zhang Yuan, his black robe fluttering, calmly gazed at the battlefield below, a place where chaos and order intertwined, where ruthlessness and greed coexisted.

The raging demonic winds couldn't even lift the hem of his clothes, as if there was an invisible barrier blocking them.

A figure in a blood-red robe appeared silently beside him; it was none other than Bai Qi, the Lord of Wu'an.

“It’s quite a commotion.” Bai Qi’s blood-red eyes swept over the soaring demonic tide. His voice was unreadable, but it carried a hoarseness that seemed to pierce through time and space. “This little spectacle is just the prelude.”

He turned his gaze to Zhang Yuan, his eyes seemingly able to see through people's hearts: "Boy, the Yangtianzhou Sword Tomb is about to break down."

Zhang Yuan's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he remained silent.

"That place is the burial site of the thirteen most ferocious swords from the ancient war between immortals and demons."

"Though the sword is broken, its ferocity is even more intense, forming a deadly place of its own." Bai Qi's voice lowered, carrying a trace of solemn reminiscence. "Every sword is soaked in the blood and resentment of billions of living beings, and may even be connected with evil spirits from beyond the realm."

"If the Sword Tomb collapses, not only will the sword cultivation lineage of Yangtian Continent be severed and its malevolent energy soar into the sky, but it will also likely bring even greater trouble..."

"Those descendants of Zhao Zhou who have been guarding the sword tomb for so long will probably have to be buried with their entire clan."

He paused, a sharp glint of all-knowing insight flashing in his blood-red eyes: "The foundation of Zhao Zhou's sword cultivation lies in the Sword Tomb."

"If the Sword Tomb is destroyed, Zhao Zhou will become the next weak point coveted by evil forces. Preserving the Sword Tomb means holding the lifeline of Zhao Zhou's sword cultivators in our hands."

"Unfortunately... the evil sword chooses its master, and the path to the Sword Tomb is a path of nine deaths and one life. Of the sword cultivator geniuses who enter, eight out of ten are devoured by the evil sword and are left without even a trace. One goes mad, one becomes a cripple, and even if one survives, he may not be able to tame the evil sword."

"At this moment, 'Fenji' is most restless, and there are signs that it is going out of control and killing its master..."

“Swordsmanship is not my forte,” Zhang Yuan said, his voice calm and even as he placed his hand on the hilt of the Autumn Cold Blade at his waist. “I only know how to use a sword.”

Upon hearing this, Bai Qi's face, which had been as cold as an iceberg for millennia, suddenly twitched upwards at the corners of his mouth in a subtle yet sharp, knife-like arc: "Heh, swordsmanship? I don't understand it either."

His gaze, like a tangible killing intent, swept across Zhang Yuan's face, as if he were admiring a peerless weapon of mass destruction.

"In my entire life, I've only known one thing—killing." Bai Qi's voice suddenly became like the clang of metal on metal, icy and chilling, carrying the murderous aura accumulated from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, causing the surrounding air to freeze slightly. He extended a withered finger and seemingly casually drew it lightly towards the surging demonic clouds in front of him!
There was no earth-shattering light, but the boiling demonic clouds, mixed with countless demonic creatures, were forcibly torn open by an invisible force that extinguished life, creating a huge rift that pierced through the heavens and the earth!

The edges of the crack were as smooth as a mirror, and all the demons and demonic energy that touched it instantly turned into the most primal stillness!
"Whether you use a knife, a sword, your fists, or your teeth!" Bai Qi withdrew his finger, his blood-red eyes locking onto Zhang Yuan. "As long as you can crush the enemy's bones, drain their blood, extinguish their souls, and uproot their courage... that is the best 'method'!"

His voice carried a hint of amusement, yet also a cruel admiration: "You lad, ruthless and decisive, that ruthlessness to eliminate all threats... is not much different from mine back in the day."

Zhang Yuan remained silent for a moment, his deep eyes reflecting the terrifying crack that tore through the demonic clouds.

He didn't turn to look at Bai Qi, but the fingers on the hilt of the sword tightened almost imperceptibly, and the dormant chaotic true essence within his body surged slightly, as if responding to Bai Qi's pure will to destroy.

At the highest point of the bastion, there was only the whistling wind and the ceaseless clamor and roar of the battlefield below.

Bai Qi's blood-red figure stood side by side with Zhang Yuan's black robes, like two dark boulders suppressing the entire boiling, scorched earth.

------------------

Yuncang City in the Eastern Territory is the core of the trade.

The enormous flying ship slowly landed at the specially made dock, where the unloading area was already packed with waiting Jiuchuan Alliance managers, wealthy merchants from all over the country, and Sword Sect deacons.

The ship's hatches opened wide, and the treasures of the East China Sea poured down, eliciting gasps of amazement and uproar.

The fist-sized, thousand-year-old dragon pearl refracts a rainbow of colors under the light.

The deep-sea black iron ingots were neatly stacked, and their cold texture caused the flying swords to hum.

The exotic seaweed, radiating a rich, vibrant light, is considered a sacred item by alchemists.

There were even baskets of cut-up monster flesh and blood, containing pure water element, with blood energy and cold energy intertwined and rising.

The dazzling array of items, each worth a fortune, illuminated the entire trading area with a radiant glow.

At the entrance to this immense torrent of wealth, Wu Daoling, standing in mid-air dressed in white, showed no joy on his face; instead, his expression was as solemn as a deep, cold abyss.

His deep gaze was not drawn to the mountain of treasures before him, but fixed on an inconspicuous grayish-brown ore fragment mixed in with the materials.

It was something that the flying boat had accidentally salvaged from the outer seas of Fusang, and that shared the same aura as the "Chaotic Primordial Spirit Ore" on the Jiuchuan Alliance's list.

"Sect Master, the proceeds from this transaction are enough to support the expenses of 800,000 disciples of our Sword Sect for ten years! The East Sea is truly..." Behind him, a white-haired elder was beaming with excitement, his voice filled with anticipation for the future.

Wu Daoling slowly raised his hand, interrupting the elder's words.

He picked up the dusty fragment of ore with his fingertips. The cool touch seemed to carry the lingering warmth of a distant demonic realm, and the chaotic spatial power contained within it, though weak, was incomparably pure.

This inconspicuous little thing struck him like a heavy hammer blow to the heart.

He remained silent for a moment, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force, and the ore fragments made a soft rubbing sound at his fingertips.

"'Support for ten years'?" Wu Daoling's voice was low and dry, like metal scraping against a reef. "We're afraid... we've missed a tremendous opportunity." (End of Chapter)