Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 46

Nascent Soul (Part 3)

Crossing Tribulation

Dark clouds blanketed the sky, faint rumblings of thunder echoing through them. Blue-purple lightning brewed within the cloud layers, its thunderous might blanketing all of Xunyang City.

            

“Is it about to rain?”

Mortals stopped to stare, astonished by the celestial phenomenon. A mortal’s lifespan, compared to a cultivator’s, was like a mayfly’s beside a human’s, and cultivators who had stepped into the Nascent Soul realm were rare across the entire Cultivation World. Though the Cultivation World might not have a hundred-odd thousand Nascent Soul cultivators, it did have tens of thousands—but those were numbers accumulated over vast stretches of time.

Only upon entering the Nascent Soul realm did one face lightning tribulations. And mortals could go several generations without ever witnessing such a heavenly tribulation.

            

Cultivators were entirely different.

Zhan Lun was the first to rush out, both hands gripping the railing, his expression grave. The air was saturated with spiritual qi, growing increasingly violent. He sensed that spiritual qi, glanced at the person beside him, and said, “Is this a lightning tribulation?”

“Indeed—a Nascent Soul Lightning Tribulation.” The Treasure Gathering Pavilion steward beside him frowned. “Young Pavilion Master, we shouldn’t linger here any longer.”

            

A heavenly tribulation was the boundless power of this world itself, not something human strength could withstand. If the quasi-Nascent Soul cultivator undergoing the tribulation didn’t leave Xunyang City, fewer than three in ten mortals would survive even under the City Lord’s protection.

“…Look at that direction—isn’t that where Fellow Daoist Yu last appeared?” Zhan Lun asked.

“You mean…” The Treasure Gathering Pavilion steward paused slightly, then couldn’t help but marvel, “If it really is her, then the Sword Sect’s future is bright. You didn’t choose the wrong person, Young Pavilion Master.”

            

Zhan Lun was about to reply when a beautiful woman burst out from a nearby guest room, face drawn with distress: “This is a Nascent Soul Lightning Tribulation! Martial Uncle Yunzhongjun, where did you run off to watch the spectacle!!”

Zhan Lun was taken aback—he naturally recognized her as the Sound Sect girl who had caused trouble at the ghost market. His brow furrowed as the name Yunzhongjun registered. “Follow her!”

The Treasure Gathering Pavilion steward had no choice but to leap out of the inn after the Young Pavilion Master, vanishing among the layered rooftops.

            

As they sped along, Zhan Lun glanced back and saw several figures darting out from the City Lord’s Mansion. One person extended a hand, and a pagoda radiating strange light slowly rose, floating in midair. The pagoda’s spiritual glow flickered, unfurling a Great Formation that enveloped all of Xunyang City.

After completing this, the leader wiped sweat from his brow and called out: “To the unknown Fellow Daoist up there—to avoid compounding sins with needless slaughter, to spare yourself karmic consequences and the warping of your Dao Fruit—please leave at once!”

His voice carried spiritual energy, resonating across all of Xunyang City.

            

But the dark clouds above Xunyang City hung ever lower, blue lightning flickering, as if ready to pour down at any moment, showing not the slightest sign of relenting.

“City Lord, this…”

Xunyang City held so many cultivators, great and small. If they were caught in the tribulation’s lightning, what would become of this place? Yet if they didn’t want to be caught in it, could they really expect all the great cultivators to make way for a mere Nascent Soul hopeful?

            

Ordinary cultivators were one thing, but what of the face of those great cultivators?

It was truly a dilemma.

Meanwhile, Yunzhongjun still stood with arms crossed, her gaze dark and heavy, the black umbrella already gone from her hand. Her double pupils rotated ceaselessly within her eyes as she observed the dungeon below. Yu Zhaoming’s eyes were shut tight, spiritual qi pouring into her like rivers flowing into the sea, endless and unceasing. Yet on her body, not a single trace of demon qi could be seen.

            

Yunzhongjun frowned. “That little heart demon failed?”

With such perfect timing—celestial, terrestrial, and human advantage aligned—plus her own behind-the-scenes push, that little heart demon had cultivation and abilities equal to Yu Zhaoming’s. How could she have been swallowed up?

It couldn’t be that she willingly chose death and yielded the opportunity, could it?

            

Yunzhongjun’s brow locked tight. How could that be? Heart demons were born from the Sea of Consciousness, innately possessing an unparalleled yearning for freedom in the outside world. They arose from their host’s dark obsessions and grew on the host’s cultivation and spiritual energy. But that yearning seemed like a curse and hope planted deep within the soul itself, making it impossible for heart demons to ever coexist peacefully with their hosts.

So, given a foolproof situation, why had that little heart demon been swallowed up?

Yunzhongjun’s gaze was dark and heavy. Suddenly, as if detecting something, she whipped around and snapped, “Who’s there?”

            

“Oh my, no need to be so fierce? It’s rare to meet a fellow traveler—I just came to take a look.” The air produced a sinister cackle, tearing open a void rift from which a figure slowly emerged.

Not far away, in the dungeon, Zhou Yiming was forced to witness the scene of a Golden Core cultivator stepping into the Nascent Soul realm up close. The spiritual pressure from the torrential spiritual qi made him nearly unable to breathe, his entire neck flushed crimson. He tilted his head back, eyes full of bewilderment—why had Yu Zhaoming suddenly broken through? Was this what a true genius was?

Just like in a storybook, achieving a breakthrough in the midst of crisis.

            

Only—only could this breakthrough have happened somewhere else?! He was terrified that a single bolt of tribulation lightning would reduce him to ash.

“Eldest Senior Sister! Eldest Senior Sister, wake up! You need to control yourself!!” Zhou Yiming wanted to cry but had no tears left.

Suddenly, Yu Zhaoming opened her eyes and swept him with a single glance. Zhou Yiming’s spine went cold at that look, devoid of joy or sorrow. Before him, she was less a flesh-and-blood cultivator than a heartless statue or deity, coldly observing everything in the world.

            

Whether spirit cultivators or evil cultivators—it all seemed to have nothing to do with her. Their lives and deaths were of no concern to her. She would simply stand apart.

The Emotionless Dao…

The thought flashed through Zhou Yiming’s mind. If a perfected Emotionless Dao was truly without emotion or sorrow, then what kind of person would it create?

            

But that indifference lasted only a fleeting moment. Yu Zhaoming’s gaze shifted, and she looked up at the heavy ceiling pressing down above her, her eyes tracing the complex runes. She pulled out a sword talisman and gave a clear shout: “Break!”

Elder Xuanjiu’s phantom materialized at once, the long smoking pipe in her hand transforming into a slender sword. With her motion, she slowly pushed the blade forward. That slender sword appeared extremely slow but was in fact extremely fast—cracking sounds erupted all around as the entire ceiling was shattered, revealing the stunned Thirteenth Young Master and the others.

“She really broke through to Nascent Soul—no, that’s not right, the aura on you… how, how is this possible!!”

            

Thirteenth Young Master’s eyes were blown wide, the skin around his sockets seeming to crack, threads of blood showing through. He shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice caught between disappointment and envy.

Yu Zhaoming rose into the air, her Ice Spirit Root lifting her. Though the lightning tribulation had not yet descended and her Nascent Soul had not yet fully formed, she already possessed the ability of a Nascent Soul cultivator—treading air. She caught Thirteenth Young Master’s gaze in her eyes and suddenly smiled. “Who did you think would come out?”

Her heart demon had died in her arms, becoming the stepping stone for her entry into the Nascent Soul realm. But these people had been devoured by the heart demons born of their own greed, becoming part of the evil demons.

            

“You deserve to die.”

Yu Zhaoming said, extending her hand. The sky rumbled, and lightning struck straight down. Thunder moved, and all creation shrank back. The heavenly lightning shook the earth—but a surge of ice spiritual qi erupted from the ground, sweeping across the sky and actually sealing that bolt of lightning into ice, forming an enormous blade of ice.

Yu Zhaoming flipped her wrist, and the ice blade fell toward the ground below, like a longsword in the hands of a god.

            

The demon cultivators below flickered with fear in their eyes and scattered. Only the Nascent Soul demon cultivator forced himself to step forward. He considered himself the highest-cultivation one among them—no matter how strong Yu Zhaoming was, she hadn’t truly stepped into the Nascent Soul realm.

Though the thunder boomed overhead, maddening and distracting, if he could kill Yu Zhaoming now, it would be a devastating blow to those sects, not to mention deflating the arrogance of their disciples. His gaze swept over Thirteenth Young Master, and seeing the disbelief in the youth’s eyes, he smirked with contempt.

Just someone throwing their weight around because of their background. All that talk about getting Yu Zhaoming to join them being a great achievement—now that great achievement had turned into a great disaster!!

            

With that thought, the Nascent Soul cultivator thrust out both hands, twin thin blades gleaming between his palms. Yu Zhaoming looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “Shadow Pavilion.”

Shadow Pavilion was an assassin organization hidden within the Cultivation World, infamous for valuing wealth over life. Such a place bred an obsessive fixation on cultivation power—no wonder even a Nascent Soul-level figure had fallen into the demon cultivator camp.

Yu Zhaoming gently touched the forehead band on her brow.

            

“You’ve got a good eye. Are you a client of ours, or… a fish that once slipped through the net?” The demon cultivator let out a strange laugh, blade light flashing like lightning as he spun toward Yu Zhaoming, a green toxic smoke also rippling through the air.

But ice spread instantly, freezing even the toxic gas solid. The demon cultivator froze for a moment, and just as he prepared to attack, he saw Yu Zhaoming pull out another sword talisman.

A Soul Emergence stage cultivator was not someone a Nascent Soul cultivator could compare to. The demon cultivator had barely dodged, expending a fair amount of essence blood, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. But Yu Zhaoming, unhurried, pulled out yet another one.

            

The demon cultivator’s eyes widened slightly. “You—you sword cultivators, how can you be so, so lacking in martial virtue¹!!”

“Lacking in martial virtue…”

Yu Zhaoming lowered her eyes, and in her mind’s eye it was as if those almond-shaped eyes were curving slightly in a smile, saying: “Why would you talk martial virtue with bad people? Black cat or white cat, catching mice makes it a good cat².”

            

What had felt like specious reasoning at the time now seemed to make quite a bit of sense—so much sense that the corner of her lips curved slightly. She lifted her eyes. “I’m lacking in martial virtue—what are you going to do about it!!”

Sword talisman after sword talisman flew out, and no matter how many tricks the demon cultivator had up his sleeve, he was powerless.

By the time Zhan Lun arrived, Yu Zhaoming hoisted the half-dead demon cultivator and flung him in Zhan Lun’s direction, then looked up at the sky once more. The clouds hung ever lower, and lightning fell—only to be casually frozen into ice by Yu Zhaoming. She turned and flew toward the city’s outskirts.

            

Since the tribulation-bound Nascent Soul cultivator was finally leaving the city, the crowd naturally cleared a path for her, wishing only that she’d go as far away as possible.

Zhan Lun silently held the demon cultivator, watching the City Lord’s Mansion people flying toward him, and suddenly felt that Yu Zhaoming had handed him an enormous hassle.

Why was it that some people could undergo their tribulation while others were stuck cleaning up the mess?

            

“By the way—where’s Fellow Daoist Tang?” Zhan Lun looked around, hoping to find a companion to share the cleanup with.

“She was injured. I’ve already sent her to rest.” A female voice appeared suddenly.

Zhan Lun turned, startled for a moment, then immediately bowed. “Yunzhongjun!”

            

“Martial Uncle!!” The Sound Sect disciple nearby rushed over at once.

Yunzhongjun gave an affirmative hum. She pointed at the demon cultivator and said to Zhan Lun, “Leave this one to me.”

Zhan Lun looked down at the unconscious demon cultivator, not daring to speak, and could only hand him over to Yunzhongjun. Yunzhongjun murmured in acknowledgment, a flicker of spiritual qi in her palm mimicking sword qi as she crushed the demon cultivator’s Sea of Consciousness.

            

She didn’t want to involve herself in this righteous-versus-evil mess, but matters concerning heart demons—she glanced at the Sound Sect disciple beside her. The disciple was sniffling, tears streaming down her face, wailing about how terrifying the lightning tribulation had been, then howling, “Martial Uncle, where did you go?!”

But matters concerning heart demons absolutely could not get out.

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The author has something to say:

            

Tang Wenchun: Kinda cool, too bad I can’t see a thing.

Zhan Lun: I’ve got storybooks here.

Tang Wenchun: Let me see!

            

Zhan Lun: One spirit stone per book.

Tang Wenchun: You profiteer!

Yu Zhaoming: …

            

The next major arc is Yunzhongjun’s arc—please look forward to it… bows

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