A Man in the Snow: Starting with a Sword Challenge to the Northern Liang Prince's Palace

The Demon Ancestor didn't rush to attack. He stood atop the city wall, clutching his shoulder, which had been blasted open by the hilt of his sword. Black blood seeped from between his fingers, dripping onto the ground. The wound was slowly healing, but the sword energy left by Chen Qingdu's final strike still raged within him, like a venomous snake biting at his meridians. He frowned, looking at the five people before him as if they were five lambs to the slaughter.

Chen Ping'an was the first to rush out. His two flying swords, Chu Yi and Shi Wu, simultaneously pierced towards the Demon Ancestor's throat and heart. The Demon Ancestor waved his hand, sending the two swords flying away. Chen Ping'an was also forced back several steps, a tightness in his chest and a metallic taste rising in his mouth. The difference in their cultivation levels was too great; the gap between the peak of the Ascension Realm and the peak of the Fourteenth Realm wasn't just a chasm, but an abyss. But he didn't retreat; he steadied himself and charged forward again.

He drew his swords simultaneously from both sides. His swords were so fast that the blades were invisible, only the light of the blades was visible. The sword light slashed towards the Demon Ancestor's neck, but the Demon Ancestor dodged to the side. The sword light grazed his ear, shaving off a few strands of hair. The Demon Ancestor's eyes darkened, and he struck out with his palms to the left and right. The swordsmen parried, but the demons were sent flying, crashing into the city wall and spitting out a mouthful of blood. Another crack appeared on the blade of his sword.

A Liang and Ning Yao attacked from the left and right. A Liang's sword was cunning, aiming only for vital points; Ning Yao's sword was straightforward and powerful. The Demon Ancestor used both hands simultaneously, blocking A Liang's sword with his left hand and deflecting Ning Yao's sword with his right, while kicking A Liang in the abdomen at the same time. A Liang was sent flying, crashing to the ground and rolling several times before coming to a stop. Ning Yao was also knocked back more than ten steps, her hand split open, blood flowing down the hilt of her sword.

Ye Yun didn't charge. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He leaned against the battlement, four flying swords hovering beside him, their light dim like candles about to go out. The Sword of Law was still spinning above his head, but its rotation was very slow, as if it might stop at any moment. He looked at the Demon Ancestor, his eyes like knives, but he couldn't raise his hand.

The Demon Ancestor glanced at the five people, his gaze finally settling on Chen Ping'an. "You're the new Hidden Official?" Chen Ping'an didn't speak, gripping Chu Yi tightly. The Demon Ancestor smiled, a cold smile: "Chen Qingdu's judgment is getting worse and worse."

Chen Ping'an's eyes reddened. Not with sadness, but with rage. He charged forward again, Chu Yi and Shi Wu transforming into two streaks of light, flanking the Demon Ancestor from the left and right. The Demon Ancestor didn't dodge, raising his hand to grab Chu Yi. Chu Yi struggled desperately in the Demon Ancestor's grasp, the sword trembling and emitting a piercing buzz, but it couldn't break free. The Demon Ancestor's fingers tightened, and cracks appeared on Chu Yi's blade.

"No!" Chen Ping'an rushed forward, simultaneously slashing at the Demon Ancestor's wrist with both swords. The Demon Ancestor released Chu Yi and struck Chen Ping'an in the chest with a backhand. Chen Ping'an flew backward, crashing to the ground and spitting out a mouthful of blood. Chu Yi lay on the ground, the cracks on its blade clearly visible, its sword light extinguished.

Ye Yun moved. He didn't know where the strength came from; perhaps it was a sudden burst of energy before death. Four flying swords simultaneously attacked the Demon Ancestor: "Golden Light" multiplied into countless forms, "Purple Cloud" summoned heavenly lightning, "Cage" locked his retreat, and the "Sword of Law" slashed at the Demon Ancestor's laws. The Demon Ancestor frowned; he felt his "Undying" law being struck by something. Although it wasn't severed, it loosened slightly. He looked at Ye Yun, his eyes becoming more serious: "Your sword is interesting."

He struck Ye Yun with a palm. Ye Yun with his "Nirvana" technique, his four flying swords shattering and regenerating to block the blow, but he was still sent flying, crashing next to Chen Ping'an, a mouthful of blood gushing from his mouth. The four flying swords shattered again, scattering on the ground like a pile of scrap metal. His consciousness began to blur, and his vision blurred.

"Boss Ye!" Chen Ping'an crawled over and helped Ye Yun up. Ye Yun leaned on his shoulder, panting heavily, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth with each breath. He tried to say something, but only managed to spit out a mouthful of bloody foam.

Few could still stand on the city wall. Some knelt on the ground, using their swords for support, unable to rise. A-Liang lay prone in the rubble, a hole pierced through his back by a black light, blood gushing out. Ning Yao leaned against the battlement, her left hand hanging limply, clearly severed; her right hand still gripped her sword, but the tip trembled.

The Demon Ancestor stood in the center of the city wall, looking at the defeated soldiers with an expressionless face. He raised his hand, and a ball of black light condensed in his palm, growing larger and brighter. He intended to wipe out everyone on the city wall with a single move.

A sword light flew from below the city. The sword light was weak, as weak as an oil lamp about to go out. But it was incredibly accurate—the sword light struck the black light in the Demon Ancestor's palm, the black light exploded, and the Demon Ancestor took a step back.

Beneath the city walls, the mountain of corpses began to move.

Chen Qing crawled out of the pile of corpses. His old robe was unrecognizable, soaked in blood and clinging to his body. Blood was still gushing from the hole in his chest, flowing out with every step. His face was as white as paper, but his eyes were frighteningly bright. He had no sword; it was broken, only the hilt remained. Gripping the hilt, he walked step by step toward the city wall. Each step was on pools of blood, each step felt like stepping on a knife's edge, but his back remained ramrod straight.

Someone on the city wall cried out, "Elder Sword Immortal! Don't come up!" Chen Qing didn't hear them, or perhaps he heard them but pretended not to. He walked to the foot of the city wall and glanced up at the top. His white hair was stuck to his face in clumps with blood. He smiled, his mouth widening to reveal teeth stained red with blood.

Then he rose from the ground and leaped onto the city wall.

When he landed in front of the Demon Ancestor, his body swayed, and he almost fell, but he steadied himself. He stood before the Demon Ancestor like a wall. A wall that was about to collapse, but it was still there, blocking the way.

The Demon Ancestor looked at him, his eyes filled with complex emotions. Ten thousand years ago, they were adversaries, fighting for millennia, neither able to kill the other. Today, finally, it was time for an end. "Chen Qingdu, do you still want to fight?"

Chen Qing spat out a mouthful of blood, not saliva: "If I don't fight, should I offer you a drink?"

The Demon Ancestor did not laugh. He made his move, striking Chen Qingdu's chest with a palm. Chen Qingdu neither dodged nor evaded, letting the palm strike the hole in his chest. Blood gushed from the wound, splattering all over the Demon Ancestor's face. His body swayed even more violently, but he did not retreat.

He made his move. The sword hilt pierced the Demon Ancestor's abdomen. The Demon Ancestor blocked with his hand, the hilt piercing his palm. Chen Qingdu's sword energy erupted from the hilt, spreading upwards along the Demon Ancestor's arm, tearing flesh and exposing black bone wherever it passed. The Demon Ancestor cried out in pain and kicked Chen Qingdu in the knee. The sound of the kneecap shattering was crisp, like a withered tree branch breaking. Chen Qingdu knelt on one knee, but he didn't let go; the sword hilt was still embedded in the Demon Ancestor's palm.

The Demon Ancestor's other hand pierced through Chen Qingdu's abdomen. The hand emerged from his back, clutching a section of intestine. The Demon Ancestor withdrew his hand, the intestine spilling out and hanging bloodily from Chen Qingdu's stomach.

Someone on the city wall cried out. Some knelt down, others buried their heads in their arms, unable to look. Chen Ping'an tried to rush over, but was held down tightly by those on either side.

Chen Qingdu glanced down at his stomach; his intestines were hanging out, blood gushing out. He reached out and stuffed the intestines back in, pressing his hand against the wound. Then he looked up at the Demon Ancestor and smiled.

"That's it?" he said.

The Demon Ancestor's pupils contracted slightly. He had seen people who were not afraid of death before, but he had never seen anyone like this—his stomach had been ripped open, his intestines were spilling out, and he was still laughing.

With his last ounce of strength, Chen Qingdu plunged the hilt of his sword into the Demon Ancestor's chest. The hilt had no blade, but Chen Qingdu's sword energy remained. Eight thousand years of accumulated sword energy poured from his body into the hilt, then erupted from it, piercing the Demon Ancestor's chest. A gaping hole exploded in the Demon Ancestor's chest, black blood gushing out, and his body jerked backward, staggering several steps.

Chen Qingdu's grip loosened. The sword hilt remained embedded in the demon ancestor's chest, stuck there like a nail.

His body fell backward. This time, he truly couldn't stand. His knees were shattered, his stomach was ripped open, his heart was gone, and he was left with only one breath. He collapsed on the city wall, in a pool of blood, on the city wall he had guarded for eight thousand years.

White hair spread out, covering the ground like a white flag.

His eyes were still open, staring at the sky. The sky above the Sword Qi Great Wall was a hazy gray, without sun or clouds, only an endless expanse of gray. He stared for a long time, then slowly, the corners of his mouth turned up, and he smiled.

Chen Ping'an rushed over, knelt beside him, and lifted his head, placing it on his knees. "Big Boss Sword Immortal! Big Boss Sword Immortal, look at me!" Chen Ping'an's voice trembled, tears dripping onto Chen Qingdu's face, mingling with blood.

Chen Qingdu's eyes darted around, looking at Chen Ping'an. His gaze was unfocused, his pupils dilated, but he still recognized Chen Ping'an. "Hidden Official..." his voice was soft, as soft as wind rustling through leaves, "Keep an eye on... the Sword Qi Great Wall for me..."

Chen Ping'an nodded, nodded vigorously, until his neck almost broke: "I'm optimistic! I'm optimistic! Boss, Sword Immortal, don't die!"

Chen Qingdu smiled slightly. His lips twitched, then stopped moving. His eyes remained open, but his pupils were dilated. He looked at the sky, that smile still lingering on his lips.

Chen Ping'an held his head, kneeling in the pool of blood, trembling with sobs. He didn't shout, he didn't yell, he just cried, cried silently, his tears and snot mingling and dripping onto Chen Qingdu's white hair and his blood-stained face.

Ye Yun crawled over and knelt beside Chen Qingdu. He looked down at the old man's face, at that wrinkled, blood-stained face that still wore a smile. He reached out and closed Chen Qingdu's eyes. The eyelids were cool, the touch like an icy stone.

Then he took a step back, straightened his knees, and kowtowed three times heavily. His forehead struck the broken bricks, breaking his skin, and blood streamed down his nose, dripping onto the ground. He didn't wipe it away.

They knelt down on either side. Ah Liang knelt down. Ning Yao knelt down.

On the city wall, all the surviving sword cultivators knelt. Thousands knelt in pools of blood, beside the corpses of their comrades, on the shattered bricks. No one spoke, no one cried out, only suppressed sobs and the fluttering of flags in the wind.

In the distance, the Demon Ancestor clutched the wound on his chest, black blood seeping from between his fingers. His face was deathly pale, as white as paper. Chen Qingdu's final sword strike had struck at his very core; the sword energy was still churning within him, unable to heal in the short term.

He glanced at the sword cultivators kneeling on the city wall, then at Chen Qingdu's corpse, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

"Who's next?"

The sound wasn't loud, but everyone heard it. It was like a knife piercing everyone's heart.

No one answered.

Chen Ping'an gently placed Chen Qingdu's head on the ground and stood up. He pulled Chen Qingdu's sword hilt from the Demon Ancestor's chest—the old man was dead, and the sword hilt couldn't remain on the Demon Ancestor's body. The hilt was covered in blood, some from Chen Qingdu, and some from the Demon Ancestor. He tucked the hilt into his waistband and drew Chu Yi and Shi Wu.

The cracks on the sword were still there, and its light was dim. The blade of the sword on the fifteenth day was chipped and had several nicks. But Chen Ping'an held them steadily.

He looked at the Demon Ancestor, his eyes red, but without tears. His tears had dried up.

"Next," Chen Pingan said, "is me."

He gripped his sword tightly and walked toward the Demon Ancestor.

Ye Yun stood up, the Sword of Law hovering above his head, humming. The four flying swords were reborn once more, their light dim, but they were still spinning. He walked to Chen Ping'an's side and stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

Zuo You stood up and gripped his sword tightly. A Liang stood up and spat out the blood in his mouth. Ning Yao stood up and wrapped her severed left hand with a strip of cloth around the hilt of the sword so that she could hold the sword with both hands.

Five people, five swords, stood on the city wall, facing the Demon Ancestor.

Behind them, the banner of the Sword Qi Great Wall fluttered in the wind. The four characters "Sword Qi Endures Forever" on the banner were half-stained red with blood, but the characters were still clear.

On the city wall, the war drums sounded once more. The drummer was a young swordsman with both arms broken; he held the drumsticks in his mouth and struck them one by one. The drumbeats were deep and muffled, like a heartbeat.