Simultaneously traversing: traversing countless heavens

Chapter 32 Lone Peak Sword

In the villages below the mountain, lights began to twinkle one by one, like stars scattered across the earth. When Mu Mie returned home, the twilight had deepened to an impenetrable darkness. He walked along the bluestone path home and pushed open the half-closed courtyard gate.

Inside the main room, the oil lamp was already lit, its tiny flame flickering quietly, casting a long, slender shadow of Yang Yan, the mother, sitting as she sewed. In her hands was an old, worn-out wooden shirt, the elbows thinned, and she was meticulously patching it. The rhythmic, soft squeak of the needle and thread cutting through the coarse cloth was the most frequent background noise in the room.

Upon hearing the sound, Yang Yan merely raised her eyelids slightly, her gaze lingering on him for a moment to confirm there was no danger, before returning to her work with a faint "hmm." Ever since Zhou Yi took over Mu Mie's three meals a day, the stove in the house had become completely deserted, with even the smoke from the chimney rarely seen. She seemed to enjoy the peace and quiet, spending her days either sitting quietly by the window or doing chores like sewing and washing, embedding herself in a near-frozen routine. The days passed extremely quietly, as still as a deep pool of water, without a ripple.

Mu Mie was already used to it. He put down his bamboo sword and empty food box and went to finish his lessons for the day. By the time he had laid out his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone under the dim light, written on them, and tidied them up, the stars were already appearing outside the window, and the Milky Way was faintly visible. As usual, he got up and walked towards the wooden house across the street, which always smelled of warm food.

Uncle Zhou never ate with him. Mu Mie sat down alone at the table, ate in silence, washed the dishes, and then said goodbye and went home. The whole process was as quiet as a silent film, with only the light clinking of bowls and chopsticks, the soft sounds of chewing and swallowing, and the occasional chirping of insects outside the window.

The days passed by like a stream, without ripples, yet with their own direction.

Over the next few days, a tacit understanding seemed to form between the mountain waterfall and the surrounding area.

Every day around noon, when Mu Mie takes a break from practicing his sword and sits on a slightly cool rock, moistened by the moisture, and opens his food box, the little figure hidden in the grass will appear on time. Sometimes it will emerge from the foxtail grass on the left rear, and sometimes it will peek out from behind the bushes on the right front.

Mu Mie would always eat half of his food, leaving the other half and the food box behind, before getting up to continue practicing his swordsmanship. When he finished practicing again, his back was soaked with sweat, and all that remained on the rock was an empty box that had been carefully scraped clean and hardly needed washing. Sometimes, there would be a few washed wild fruits or a few freshly picked wildflowers whose names he didn't know next to it.

During this time, Mu Mie also tried to ask simple questions a few times.

"What's your name?"

"Where are you from?"

"Aren't you going home?"

The only response he received was the rustling of the wind through the grass, or a faint whisper that seemed to recede into the distance. After a few times, Mu Mie stopped asking. He was never a talkative child; the two most important people in his life—his mother and Uncle Zhou—were both as silent as mountains. Far from feeling uncomfortable with this silent companionship, he found a strange sense of peace in it.

Until this day, the peace was shattered. Another uninvited guest arrived in the mountains: a subordinate of the Nine-Headed Child Demon, the great demon king of the Southern Kingdom.

It seemed to be searching for something.

The Nine-Headed Demon is a great demon king of the Southern Kingdom, renowned for its ferocity for thousands of years. It ranks third among the seventy-two cave-master demons of the Southern Kingdom, second only to Huan Du Qingtian among the great demon kings. Moreover, its cruelty and tyranny are considered extreme even among the demon race of the Southern Kingdom.

It particularly enjoys consuming the brains of living beings, especially those of cultivators with advanced cultivation and powerful spiritual senses, regarding them as the ultimate delicacy. Those who fall into its clutches often suffer a horrific fate, not only having their cultivation stolen but also enduring inhuman torture. Many terrifying legends about it circulate within the Dao Alliance, the most horrifying of which is the fall of the previous head of the Yang family's "Heavenly Eye" clan—a powerful figure renowned for his ability to perceive all things and break through all laws. After encountering the Nine-Headed Demon, he had his divine eye gouged out, his limbs severed, and ultimately, his soul and body devoured completely. It is utterly horrifying.

In the autumn mountains and forests, the sky should be high and the clouds light, and the plants and trees should be peaceful. A thick layer of golden fallen leaves covers the ground, rustling underfoot, and the air is filled with the fragrance of ripe fruit and the unique aroma of dry grass and trees.

Mu Mie was focused on the increasingly clear figure beside the rusty sword. The illusory figure's swordplay was more fierce and intense than ever before, each strike carrying a resolute meaning, as if resisting some invisible constraint. Mu Mie's bamboo sword danced accordingly, faintly producing a sharp sound of wind being cut. Where the sword tip passed, several falling yellow leaves silently split in two.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the woods without warning.

That wasn't natural wind.

The wind carried a strong, pungent stench, a mixture of the sweet, musty smell of aged blood and the distinctive stench of wild animal fur, making one want to vomit. Where the wind passed, the once golden grass and trees instantly lost their vibrant color, as if licked by an invisible shadow, drooping listlessly, the edges of the leaves even turning an ominous gray-black.

Mu Mie's heart skipped a beat, and his sword strike abruptly stopped.

This aura—he had heard similar descriptions of demonic energy in the stories of wandering Taoist priests! Moreover, it was a demonic energy emanating from a demon race with considerable cultivation, carrying the scent of blood and food!

Immediately afterward, a short, sharp scream came from afar, which then turned into suppressed, terrified cries—the voices of children! And not just one!

Was it the child who always followed him? Or one of the other children in the village?

Mu Mie's heart tightened. Before he could think, his body reacted. He gripped the bamboo sword tightly in his hand, the hilt slippery from the sweat on his palms, and ran swiftly towards the direction from which the crying was coming!

He had been practicing cultivation for quite some time, and although he had only accumulated a meager amount of magical power within his body, once he circulated it, he felt as light as a swallow. With a light touch of his toes on the ground, he shot out like an arrow, covering more than ten feet in a single step. He crouched low as he weaved through the forest, his robes stirring up fallen leaves, making it appear as if he were flying close to the ground at an astonishing speed.

After a few leaps, he passed through a dense forest and arrived at a mountain stream.

The sight before him made him gasp for breath. The babbling brook, crystal clear, should have been a playground for children. But now, it was filled with a desperate fear.

Three younger children, about four or five years old, huddled together, crying their hearts out, tears and snot streaming down their faces, their bodies trembling like leaves in the autumn wind. Beside them, a slightly older boy slumped to the ground, his trousers soaked. He was Tiezhu, Mu Mie's classmate in school—the one who always sat in the last row and was often punished by the teacher for his misbehavior. At this moment, his face was devoid of its usual arrogance, only boundless fear remained. His mouth was open, but no coherent sound came out; he could only gasp for breath.

They all looked up, their gazes fixed on a slightly higher earthen slope on the opposite bank of the stream.

On the earthen slope, the sunlight was completely swallowed up by a huge black shadow.

It was a giant wolf. It crouched there, its body comparable to a calf, its glossy black fur gleaming with an ominous, eerie light in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. Most chilling of all were its eyes—not the murky or ferocious look typical of wild beasts, but rather a clear, almost mocking, glint of cruelty in them. It tilted its head slightly, its bright red tongue lolling over its gleaming white fangs, dripping with sticky saliva, as it surveyed the trembling "snacks" by the stream with keen interest, as if choosing where to take its first bite.

This is... a demon?

Mu Mie felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, and his palms, gripping the bamboo sword, were instantly covered in cold sweat.

Wolf demon!

These were the vicious monsters from the stories of wandering Taoist priests, the ones who would slaughter villages and towns at the drop of a hat and eat human hearts and brains! They were right there in front of him! The dense demonic aura was almost tangible, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Oh?"

A hoarse, rough sound, like the friction of gravel, suddenly rang out, accompanied by obvious surprise and even greater interest.

The sound actually came from the black wolf's mouth!

It sniffed, its bright yellow vertical pupils suddenly locking onto Mu Mie, the eerie light intensifying: "Pure blood and qi, nascent spiritual light—still a novice cultivator? Tsk tsk, the boss sent me to find the whereabouts of that Lone Peak Sword, I thought I'd taken on a tough job, but I never expected to find such an unexpected delight in this remote and desolate place—"

To demons, the flesh and blood of human children are the sweetest, and that of young cultivators is even more precious—the flesh of newborns...

Unpolluted spiritual energy is a great tonic for demon cultivators.

The wolf demon licked its fangs, saliva dripping down and corroding small pits in the earthen slope: "I'm really lucky today."

That gaze, almost tangible, swept over Mu Mie's entire body with a cold, sticky intensity, making him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave. Every hair on his body stood on end, and every muscle screamed for danger! The bamboo sword trembled slightly in his hand, whether from fear or excessive force, he couldn't tell. He wanted to turn and run, to escape this terrifying monster, to flee back down the mountain, to Uncle Zhou or his mother.

However, his feet seemed nailed to the ground. Behind him were terrified children.

"A monster! It really is a monster!" Tie Zhu finally regained some voice from extreme fear and screamed with a sob. He scrambled backward and bumped into the other three terrified children. His cries became even more shrill and echoed in the mountain stream, adding to the despair.

Taking a deep breath, Mu Mie mustered all his strength and took a sudden step forward, standing between the children and the wolf demon. He raised the insignificant bamboo sword in his hand—carved from green bamboo, without even a blade, usually only used for practice. Now, the tip of the sword was aimed at the massive black shadow on the slope, his voice dry and trembling with tension, yet clearly piercing the deathly silence of the stream: "Quick—run! Back to the village! Hurry!"

However, the children behind him were terrified, clinging to each other and crying, unable to move an inch. Tiezhu wanted to move, but his legs were as weak as noodles; he tried several times to get up but failed, and could only look in despair at Mu Mie's not-so-wide...

Yet, it was her slightly trembling back view.

On the slope, the wolf demon grinned, revealing its sharp, white teeth—a cruel and gleeful smile befitting a predator.

"Run?" A low, chilling growl rumbled in its throat, like muffled thunder rolling in its chest. "Meat that's already in its mouth—how could it possibly run away?"

It slowly stood up, its massive body casting an even deeper shadow that almost covered half the stream. Its limbs were muscular, and its claws dug deep into the soil, leaving deep marks.

"Little fellow, commendable courage." Its voice held a playful admiration, like a cat toying with a mouse. "Unfortunately, that's often the first to die."

Before the words were even finished, a dark shadow suddenly descended, and a bloody stench swept over them!

The wolf demon stomped its hind legs on the earthen slope, causing the earth and rocks to crumble! Its massive body pounced down like an arrow, the fierce wind it generated causing the grass and trees along the stream to bend and the leaves to dance wildly! Its blood-red maw opened wide, its jagged fangs gleaming with cold light and sticky saliva, aiming straight for Mu Mie's head!

The shadow of death loomed over them in an instant.

Mu Mie's pupils constricted. In the rapidly approaching shadow of death, everything around him seemed to suddenly slow down and stretch out. He could see the trembling flesh folds in the wolf demon's throat, smell the nauseating stench of its mouth, and feel the cold fingertips of death touching his brow.

His muscles were taut like a fully drawn bowstring, and his hands gripped the sword carved from green bamboo tightly, held horizontally in front of his chest. Knowing it was like an ant trying to shake a tree, his pitifully meager magical power surged out uncontrollably, pouring into the fragile bamboo, causing the ordinary bamboo to faintly emit a layer of extremely faint, almost imperceptible light, like a firefly in the dark night.

The babbling brook beside his ears now sounded like a relentless, soul-crushing drumbeat, each note pounding against his wildly beating heart.

Life and death are separated by a single breath.

In that instant when consciousness almost froze, "Buzz—"

A faint yet exceptionally clear tremor seemed to resonate deep within one's soul, echoing from the direction of the waterfall's deep pool.

It was the sound of a sword.

It was that silent, rusty sword!

At the same time, the wolf demon Ji Feng, who was pouncing, suddenly shrank his vertical pupils to the point of needles!

—In the blink of an eye, a terrifying figure, almost buried by the dust of time yet still causing its soul to tremble, overlapped with the tiny human child before it, creating a chilling sensation in its heart!

The Lone Peak Sword?!

That name, along with the merciless bloodstains under its owner's sword and the soaring killing intent, pierced Ji Feng's mind like the coldest poisonous thorn!

"roar--!"

In a state of shock and horror, Ji Feng let out a short, strange roar and twisted its waist forcefully in mid-air. The surging demonic power surged chaotically and reversed, causing its massive body to lose its balance. Like an out-of-control stone mill, it crashed heavily into the stream less than three feet in front of Mu Mie!

"boom--!"

The stream burst open, its murky waters, mixed with pebbles and mud, drenching Mu Mie from head to toe. The icy water instantly soaked through his clothes, jolting him awake from his near-death stupor.

The bone-chilling cold sent a shiver down his spine, bringing a moment of clarity. He awoke from the near-death daze. Gasping for breath, he glanced at the wolf demon, who was struggling to regain his footing in the stream, staring at him with suspicion, and then quickly glanced at the terrified children beside him.

run!

The target was him. Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted back the way he came! He pushed his remaining magical power to its limit, channeling it all into his legs, making him even faster than when he came! Each step left a shallow indentation in the fallen leaves, and he weaved through the trees, sending leaves flying.

"Cough—Ptooey!" Ji Feng spat out the stream water he had choked on, shook his slightly dizzy head, and stood up completely. His scarlet vertical pupils stared intently at Mu Mie's fleeing figure, his surprise quickly replaced by suspicion.

wrong----

If that fiend himself were nearby, he would have been sliced ​​in two with a single, casual sword strike the moment he lunged forward, instead of falling into the water in such a sorry state. In that battle years ago, that man was ruthless and merciless. No one survived his sword strike; even his own leader suffered greatly at his hands, losing his head—if he hadn't been severely weakened by the combined attack of the demon kings, his leader probably wouldn't have been a match for him either.

Could it be—his successor or disciple?

The wolf demon Jifeng stared at Mu Mie's fleeing figure, took a step forward, then abruptly stopped, its heart in turmoil. The terrifying power of the Lone Peak Sword made it instinctively shrink back.

But in the end...

Greed grows wildly like a poisonous weed.

The eldest brother clearly said that after the bloody battle in the lonely city, that person's sword heart was shattered and his foundation was destroyed, making him no different from a cripple. Otherwise, how could he have been allowed to act so recklessly? If that is the case, how much skill can a disciple of the successor have?

That's it!

Let's give it our all!

Ji Feng's hesitation vanished, replaced by a burning greed. If he could capture this kid and present him to the boss, the boss would be delighted and the reward would be substantial! At that point, even if he didn't become a demon king, he could at least become a great demon and rule over several mountains!

This reward is enough to make it take the risk!

"You little brat, where do you think you're going!"

With a low roar, Ji Feng unleashed demonic power from his limbs, shattering the stream stones and transforming into a black hurricane, relentlessly pursuing the direction where Mu Mie had disappeared! His eyes gleamed with ferocity, showing no further hesitation.

In the forest, Mu Mie pushed himself to the limit. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, each breath tearing at his lungs, and his legs trembled slightly from the excessive exertion. He dared not look back, relying only on the sound and the intense, ever-present demonic aura to judge distance. Branches and leaves whipped against his body and face, leaving a burning pain, but he paid no heed.

"Westward—around that cliff—through the thicket of thorns!" He suddenly turned, using the trees and rocks as cover to try and create some distance.

However, the difference between demons and humans cannot be easily bridged by terrain.

The sound of something cutting through the air behind us grew closer and closer, accompanied by a sickening sneer.

"That little bug is quite the burrower!"

boom!

A rock the size of a millstone was whipped up by a gust of wind, carrying immense force, and slammed into a tree trunk not far in front of Mu Mie! Splinters flew everywhere, and the massive tree, as thick as a person's embrace, shook violently, blocking his path. Mu Mie narrowly slipped past it, a cold sweat breaking out on his back.

Not far away, a small figure picking red berries suddenly stopped, her fingers, still stained with fruit, hovering in mid-air. As if sensing something, she abruptly raised her head and looked towards the waterfall.

Beside the deep pool, the rusted sword embedded in the boulder had, unnoticed, peeled away several pieces of rust. Its cold, sharp edge flickered in and out of sight.

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