Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 7

Divine Tomb

Heart Demon Manifests

What was the Divine Tomb like?

            

No one in this world knew, for it had been fully ten thousand years since the last deity’s Ascension. Even by the measure of a cultivator’s long lifespan, that was a vast span of time—enough to erase every rumor from that era.

Yu Zhaoming stood in the empty darkness. Darkness, yet the vault above and the ground below still glittered with countless faint lights, making it impossible to tell up from down, left from right. That boundless, inverted chaos confused the senses, and a thread of fear rose in Tang Wenchun’s heart as she watched the outside world through the white mist.

She had read in the novel about the female lead entering the Divine Tomb, but nothing like this had happened there. Still, Tang Wenchun wasn’t too worried. She remembered that the Divine Tomb’s primary purpose wasn’t to slaughter intruders, but to offer a trial of tempering.

            

“It feels… like the universe?”

Yu Zhaoming’s ears twitched. Spatial directions are Yu; time across past and present is Zhou¹. But what was the universe? She said nothing, only tightened her grip on Cangfeng and stared hard ahead.

Tang Wenchun looked at Yu Zhaoming in bewilderment. There wasn’t so much as a breath of wind in this place, and she had no idea what Yu Zhaoming meant to do with her sword. Suddenly a thought struck her, and she couldn’t help blurting out, “No way… you’re not going to…”

            

Before the words had left her mouth, Yu Zhaoming had already swung her sword.

Cangfeng condensed sword light, and in this windless void, a gust was born. The wind was featherlight at first, like a handful of flame that could go out at any moment. But soon the sound of wind rose, and the starlight all around seemed drawn in, spiraling.

The sword light solidified into Sword Intent², and the Sword Intent cleaved through primordial chaos and tore open the sky.

            

In this inverted, chaos-shrouded space with no sun, no moon, and no time, she carved open the expanse of heaven and earth.

In that instant, Tang Wenchun seemed to see Great God Pangu³ standing behind Yu Zhaoming, radiant with divine light, wielding a great axe to split heaven and earth.

But that vision vanished in a flash. Yu Zhaoming let out a gasp, dropping to one knee, Cangfeng barely supporting her weight. She lifted her head, and Tang Wenchun realized they had shifted to a different scene.

            

This was a square Martial Arena. A pale gold hemispherical barrier domed overhead, banners and empty weapon racks standing around the perimeter. Farther off rose a mountain gate, and beyond it, mist blurred everything—only the faint outline of something towering into the clouds could be discerned, like a colossal peak.

Yu Zhaoming kept her composure and scanned her surroundings. She pushed herself up with a slight effort of her hand, but the moment she stood, she stumbled forward. She tried to steady herself, but a pair of hands was faster—arms wrapping firmly around her waist, pulling her back.

In that instant, Yu Zhaoming felt herself enveloped in something soft and warm, a faint fragrance washing over her.

            

In such a bizarre place, the slightest unexpected movement could cost her life. Yet before those hands reached out, Yu Zhaoming had sensed nothing at all!

Yu Zhaoming’s expression shifted. She slammed her heel down to steady herself, swung her elbow up, and struck the person behind her. A pained cry reached her ears—somewhat familiar. Ignoring it, Yu Zhaoming let sword light flow, and in the next instant her blade tip was leveled at…

“Tang Wenchun?”

            

Yu Zhaoming frowned at the person before her. Tang Wenchun lay sprawled flat on the ground, then lifted her head, a bright red mark on her forehead. She raised both hands high, staring helplessly at the sword pointed her way, and managed a stiff, wry smile. “…Hi?”

Tang Wenchun studied Yu Zhaoming’s expression cautiously. The other girl’s brows were drawn together, her gaze serious with a hint of bewilderment. But Cangfeng’s edge gleamed sharp, aimed straight at her, and Tang Wenchun couldn’t help feeling a bit uneasy.

Tang Wenchun glanced at Yu Zhaoming, saw she wasn’t moving, and cautiously reached out to press her finger against Cangfeng, nudging the blade aside little by little.

            

Yu Zhaoming’s brow furrowed tight. “How are you here?”

Tang Wenchun was still trying to push the sword tip away. Hearing Yu Zhaoming’s question, she answered, “I don’t know either. I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Yu Zhaoming studied Tang Wenchun, then focused inward and swept her Sea of Consciousness. It was completely empty—everything was as before, except Tang Wenchun was gone. In other words, for some unknown reason, this heart demon had manifested a physical form.

            

Tang Wenchun kept at it, her fingertips pressed against Cangfeng, when Yu Zhaoming’s voice came suddenly: “Don’t move.”

Tang Wenchun looked up to see Yu Zhaoming reaching toward her, pinching her chin, tilting her face upward. Before, whenever the two of them had occupied the same space, it had been kill or be killed. Later, though it was no longer instant death on sight, their encounters had still been back-and-forth battles without a moment’s peace.

Now they were suddenly close—so close that Yu Zhaoming’s scent and warmth washed over her—and Tang Wenchun abruptly realized that Yu Zhaoming was a little taller than her.

            

Looking at Yu Zhaoming’s earnest face, still touched with youth, Tang Wenchun suddenly felt awkward. She tried to step back, but Yu Zhaoming’s voice stopped her. “Don’t move.”

Tang Wenchun’s body went rigid. She felt Yu Zhaoming’s fingers press lightly against her cheek, then slowly slide down to rest on her lips.

Why, why press there!!

            

Flustered, Tang Wenchun opened her mouth, instinctively wanting to bite. Yu Zhaoming was faster—a slight turn of her wrist sent the sword tip upward, pressing against Tang Wenchun’s chin. “What are you fidgeting about?”

The sharp point pricked her skin, and Tang Wenchun didn’t dare move at all. Yu Zhaoming had killed her several times before. Each death had been quick and clean—so much so that Tang Wenchun had almost gotten used to it.

But a death that traveled upward from the chin—Tang Wenchun had no desire to sample that one yet.

            

So she could only stay stiff, feeling Yu Zhaoming’s fingers gently brush across her lips and press again.

The heart demon’s body appeared slightly older than Yu Zhaoming’s, though not yet a fully mature woman. Rather, it was caught in that final stretch from girl to adult woman, when youth’s rawness carries the first blush of ripeness—the most delectable moment of all.

Yu Zhaoming’s gaze fell on Tang Wenchun’s lips. The color her fingers had just brushed was now a vivid red, like a ripe fruit. Below that, her neck was slender and pale, exuding a delicate vulnerability that could be held in one’s hands—a picture of tender helplessness.

            

Yu Zhaoming pressed slightly with her fingers, and Tang Wenchun’s lips parted involuntarily, revealing a hint of pink tongue within.

Yu Zhaoming’s eyes darkened a shade. She said quietly, “Warmth and touch. Like a living person. You…”

That familiar look made Tang Wenchun’s eyelid twitch. She blurted out hastily, “What are you doing? You’re not going to kill me again, are you?”

            

Yu Zhaoming fell silent. The last time she had killed Tang Wenchun, it was truly because she hadn’t expected Tang Wenchun to turn into… that thing. But she didn’t know how to explain it in the moment. She only watched as Tang Wenchun’s gaze grew more and more hostile.

“…Not this time.”

Yu Zhaoming said. Tang Wenchun felt that saying it at all was worse than silence—it sounded like a death knell for next time.

            

Tang Wenchun took a deep breath, barely managing to hold her temper in check, and was about to say something. But Yu Zhaoming’s expression suddenly changed. She seized Tang Wenchun and pulled her behind, Cangfeng’s tip swinging to aim at the distant mountain gate.

“Who’s there? Show yourself—stop hiding!”

Tang Wenchun had fought Yu Zhaoming in the Sea of Consciousness many times. Though she sensed no immediate danger, the moment Yu Zhaoming moved, she ducked behind her as if by instinct, peeking out to watch the front.

            

“Heh heh. Bone age seventeen, an Innate Sword Bone.” An elderly voice rang out from the void, generous with its praise.

Tang Wenchun stole a glance at Yu Zhaoming. Only seventeen—so young. So she wasn’t pretending to be tender after all… Seventeen, and already so much taller than her. What did she eat to grow like that?

“Truly a rare talent, with keen spiritual perception.” The voice continued, then took an abrupt turn. “Never expected it, though. This old man has waited all these years, finally meets a promising junior—and she has spawned a heart demon.”

            

Tang Wenchun stole another glance at Yu Zhaoming. She wasn’t a native of this world, but she had read the novel—she knew that people here treated heart demons as a taboo subject, reluctant to let anyone learn of them.

Yu Zhaoming’s hand did not tremble in the slightest. Her gaze was steady. If the one her blade tip aimed at was her enemy, then the one she sheltered behind her was the person she was resolved to protect.

Tang Wenchun looked at the slender figure of the girl before her—not yet grown into womanhood—and something stirred in her heart, a nameless sense of reassurance.

            

“Girl, this old man gave you a heaven-sent opportunity to sever your heart demon with your sword—yet you point your blade at this old man instead?”

Tang Wenchun started, and looked at Yu Zhaoming again. But Yu Zhaoming didn’t turn back. Her sword tip held no hesitation whatsoever—just like Yu Zhaoming herself. Tang Wenchun’s heart settled once more.

“Enough talk.”

            

The Old Man’s Phantom materialized without warning. Clearly enraged by Yu Zhaoming’s words, he bellowed, “Fine, fine! This old man has never seen such an ungrateful girl! If you want to fight, then let this old man see whether you have the qualifications to enter the Divine Tomb and press forward to claim the Divine Legacy⁴!”

Yu Zhaoming said no more. She simply readied Cangfeng and stepped forward.

At that moment, Tang Wenchun, also holding Cangfeng, stepped out from behind Yu Zhaoming. Their eyes met, and Tang Wenchun gave a low cough. “If you die, I can’t live either.”

            

Yu Zhaoming nodded. The two of them leaned forward at the same time, like two shadows cast from a single body, and charged toward the old man together.

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The author has something to say:

Tang Wenchun: Wow! I finally have a body!

            

Yu Zhaoming: Touching, squeezing, pressing…

Tang Wenchun: …What are you doing?

Yu Zhaoming: Don’t move. Move and I’ll kill you!

            

Tang Wenchun: …Won’t dare move, won’t dare move…

I’m not feeling well today. Please bookmark! Please bookmark!

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