The tide crashed against the shore as the rising sun painted the sky gold at dawn.
At the Listening to Waves Teahouse on Guanshan Island in the Southern Sea, a sliver of morning light slanted in through the eastern window, landing on the storytelling platform at the center of the teahouse.
Calling it a storytelling platform was generous—it was really just an old camphor wood square table, its corners darkened by tea stains and years of use. On it sat a paper fan, a storytelling block, and a purple clay teacup.
A dozen square tables were set out below, packed with people. There were rogue cultivators in simple clothes, rangers wearing swords, traveling merchants who had crossed the sea from other islands under bamboo hats, and a few young disciples in the robes of the Guanshan Dojo sitting in the corner.
The storyteller was in his forties, sporting a goatee. His blue robe was washed white, the cuffs frayed with loose threads, but the moment he unfurled his paper fan, his entire demeanor shifted.
On the fan were four characters scrawled in messy ink—“Hearsay and Gossip”—looking as if they had been dashed off casually.
He smacked the fan against the table. A crisp “slap!” rang out, and the teahouse’s chatter quieted by a third.
“Our Zhan County’s Eighteen Islands occupy the finest land and people of the Southern Sea. I dare say our tales are no less than those of the Southern Frontier. Don’t be unconvinced, folks. It’s true the Southern Frontier has spirit stone veins, but under our Eighteen Islands lies a sea spirit vein that even Golden Core immortals have coveted for countless years. In recent years, Golden Cores have emerged one after another, guarding the spirit vein and ensuring peace in our lands. This confidence, we can take anywhere.”
He paused, folded his fan, and his face suddenly turned solemn.
The teahouse fell into dead silence.
The storyteller swept his gaze over the audience, nodded in satisfaction, and spread his fan again, but did not continue. Instead, he leisurely picked up his purple clay teacup and took a sip.
Someone below grew impatient. A broad-shouldered man carrying a broadsword slammed his wine bowl onto the table. “Master, stop keeping us in suspense! The Guanshan Dao Master chased after them for three days and three nights. Did he catch them or not? There’s spirit stone as a reward!”
The storyteller’s eyes lit up, and he smacked the fan against the table again.
“Excellent! Since this fellow cultivator is so forthright, I won’t hold back. You’ve all heard of the name of that Northern Heavenly Sword Immortal recently, haven’t you?”
The teahouse immediately buzzed with murmurs.
The moment those five words—“Northern Heavenly Sword Immortal”—were mentioned, even the vendor at the door carrying oyster pancakes on a shoulder pole stopped hawking and craned his neck to listen.
The storyteller pressed his fan down to signal quiet, then lowered his voice, adding a touch of that characteristic storyteller’s mystique.
“But you don’t know—this Sword Immortal is extraordinary. Legends say he has mastered the ancient cultivation method of the seventy-two earthly transformations. Riding clouds and mists is nothing special to him, but his Heaven-Spanning Earth-Shrinking Technique—now that is truly earth-shattering.”
“These are abilities only ancient greats could wield. In this day and age, catching sight of even one is like burning the highest incense, yet this Sword Immortal has mastered them all.”
He shifted the topic. “The Guanshan Dao Master followed the dark cultivator’s trail out beyond the island, chasing westward for three days and three nights. Guess what he saw?”
“Those dark cultivators—every single one fell dead on the reefs, each with a single red dot at their throats. One strike, one kill.”
“Pierced through the throat, out through the cervical spine. The sword intent was so sharp that the blood was all sealed inside the vessels by the sword aura.”
Someone in the audience interrupted. It was a young cultivator in long robes, his brow slightly furrowed. “Master, that doesn’t add up. A Sword Immortal, yet he mostly uses transformation arts and Heaven-Spanning Earth-Shrinking techniques? You just said he killed dark cultivators with a sword. Isn’t that contradictory?”
The storyteller let out a hearty laugh.
“An excellent question, young friend! What you don’t know is that this Northern Heavenly Sword Immortal’s whereabouts are unpredictable, roaming the seven seas. There are plenty of cultivators who have crossed blows with him.”
“But if you go ask around, out of every ten who’ve fought him, nine haven’t even seen his sword.”
“It’s not that he doesn’t use a sword—it’s that no one has forced him to draw it. He subdues people with those ancient methods alone. The man’s skills are vast. It’s just that so far, no one has managed to force him to reveal the Great Dao he cultivates.”
“Without a Great Dao, how could he form a Golden Core? He’s merely hiding his sword in its sheath, not showing it to outsiders.”
These words set the teahouse ablaze with commotion. The younger cultivators exchanged glances, all with the same thought in their eyes—
Did such a person really exist in this world?
The more seasoned rogue cultivators nodded silently, thinking to themselves that the waters of the Southern Sea were growing deeper and deeper.
Suddenly, someone asked in a low voice, “And that Southern Sea Lost Pearl—did the Guanshan Dao Master retrieve it?”
The noise in the teahouse abruptly fell silent. Everyone’s gaze shifted back to the storyteller.
The smile on the storyteller’s face slowly faded. He folded his fan, tapped it lightly against his palm, and let out a long sigh.
“Alas. By the time the Guanshan Dao Master arrived, the dark cultivators were dead to a man, but the Southern Sea Lost Pearl was nowhere to be found.”
“Whether this Sword Immortal was tempted by greed and wanted to keep the treasure for himself, or there are other hidden circumstances, no one knows. But three days and three nights have passed, and the Guanshan Dao Master is still searching the seas for traces of that Sword Immortal. If nothing unexpected happens, news should come within these few da—”
Before he could finish, the teahouse shook violently.
The tremor came from beneath the floorboards, as if a giant hand had grabbed the entire Guanshan Island from under the seabed and given it a light shake.
The purple clay cup on the storytelling platform jumped half an inch, splashing tea as it landed back on the table.
Then a deep, drawn-out rumble rolled in from the distant sea, passing through the teahouse windows and through the chests of every cultivator seated there.
The sound surged up from the depths of the seabed, unceasing, as if the seafloor itself was being wrenched by something.
Someone leaped to his feet, knocking over the bench behind him.
“Look! Who’s that out there!”
Everyone rushed toward the teahouse’s sea-facing terrace.
The Listening to Waves Teahouse was built into the cliff on the southeast side of Guanshan Island. Outside the teahouse stretched a semi-suspended wooden gallery, from which one could overlook the entire bay.
By now, the gallery was packed with people. Those arriving late could only stand on tiptoes, craning to see through the gaps.
On the sea, two figures were flying slowly toward Guanshan Island from the distant waters, one ahead of the other.
The one behind was flying through the air, wearing the black robes of the Guanshan Dojo, the hem fluttering wildly in the sea breeze. In his hand, he held an ancient, bronze-colored small tripod.
Who else could it be but the Guanshan Dao Master?
But everyone’s eyes lingered on him for only a moment before shifting in unison to the figure across from him.
Opposite the Guanshan Dao Master stood a man on a flying sword. The blade gleamed snow-white, hovering three feet above the sea surface, its tip gently tapping the waves. The sea breeze billowed the man’s robes—white as snow, spotless and dust-free.
His long hair was loosely tied up with a jade hairpin, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. As the wind blew, the strands lifted back, revealing the full contours of his face.
Handsome and refined, with a tranquil expression. There was not a trace of aggressive sharpness in his brow. He simply stood there calmly, as if he had happened to stroll out to this stretch of sea on a morning walk.
Silence fell over the entire gallery. Someone gasped sharply, the sound unusually clear in the quiet corridor.
“Could it be... that this is the Northern Heavenly Sword Immortal the Guanshan Dao Master has been searching for?”
No one answered him, because everyone’s mind was spinning the same thought.
This Northern Heavenly Sword Immortal did not match the image of the transcendent master described by the storyteller, who could use the seventy-two earthly transformations.
The man before them had not a single ripple of spiritual energy around him—no pressure, no radiance. Even the flying sword beneath his feet was dim and lusterless.
If it weren’t for the fact that he was floating in midair on a sword, anyone meeting him in any random town would just assume he was a young teacher from some academy out on a spring outing.
But precisely because nothing could be felt, it sent chills down their spines. To elude the divine sense scans of every cultivator present meant either he was a mortal with no cultivation at all, or he had reached the stage where he had returned to simplicity.
Out on the sea beyond Moon Bay of Zhan County, the waves churned violently.
The Guanshan Dao Master’s divine sense had swept over the man opposite him no fewer than three times, but from head to toe, this person looked like an ordinary mortal—as if he had never cultivated at all.
Yet no mortal could stand on the sea atop a flying sword.
This contradiction made the Guanshan Dao Master’s heart sink. He had cultivated in the Southern Sea for many years and seen countless cultivators. The only one capable of hiding from his divine sense probe was Ling Xuzi of Chimen.
The less aura this man emitted, the more unfathomable he seemed.
With unknown origins and unwise to offend, yet the Southern Sea Lost Pearl concerned the secret arts of the entire Zhan County Eighteen Islands. Without the pearl, the Eighteen Islands would eventually face disaster.
The cultivators of the Eighteen Islands could evacuate, but where would the ordinary mortals living there go?
He was the Guanshan Dao Master. He could not retreat.
The Guanshan Dao Master flipped his palm, and the Sea-Suppressing Treasure Tripod floated up from his palm, spinning slowly and hovering before his chest.
The tripod was bronze-colored, with three legs and two ears. Its body was cast with nine lifelike dragon patterns, their tails entwined, their heads facing the tripod’s mouth.
As soon as the tripod appeared, the surging waves around them visibly subsided by several feet. The tripod emitted an invisible force, enveloping the sea within several miles in all directions.
The waves undulated gently, as if something heavy were pressing down on the seabed.
“Fellow cultivator,” the Guanshan Dao Master’s voice transmitted through divine sense into Chen Yu’s perception range, his tone restrained but serious. “The Southern Sea Lost Pearl is the supreme sea-suppressing treasure of our Zhan County’s Eighteen Islands. It concerns the stability of the spirit vein and the safety of hundreds of thousands of lives on both shores. It cannot afford to be lost.”
“If you know where the pearl is, please return it quickly. The entire Zhan County would be endlessly grateful.”
Chen Yu stood on his flying sword. After hearing this, he simply shook his head.
“Sorry, I haven’t seen any Southern Sea Lost Pearl.”
He wasn’t lying.
He had only recently transformed into a human form and flown into the Southern Sea a few days ago, planning to head to the Southern Sea Guixu to investigate the truth. He hadn’t even learned the name Guanshan Island until he heard those cultivators chatting in the teahouse.
On the way, he had indeed killed a few dark cultivators who were robbing merchant ships at sea. He ran into them, pierced them through the heart with a single sword strike, and left their corpses on the reefs.
As for this so-called Southern Sea Lost Pearl, he had never even seen it.
Besides, what kind of pirates could steal a supreme treasure right out from under a Golden Core cultivator?
What a joke.
The Guanshan Dao Master’s eyes narrowed.
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him—it was that he didn’t dare to.
He had chased the dark cultivators for days and nights. Every trace pointed to them having already gotten their hands on the pearl. And this man just happened to appear at the very spot where those cultivators died.
Could the world really be such a coincidence?
He took a deep breath, pressing his palm onto the treasure tripod, his tone shifting from restraint to resolve.
“Then forgive my rudeness. I must personally confirm about the lost pearl.”
Without further words, he thrust his hand forward. The Sea-Suppressing Treasure Tripod flew out, expanding as it caught the wind. From a bronze palm-sized mini tripod, it grew in an instant into a giant tripod taller than a man. The coiled dragon patterns at its mouth gleamed with a bronze luster under the sunlight.
The tripod’s mouth faced downward. A pale blue pillar of light shot out from its belly. The moment it struck the sea’s surface, the waves still churned underwater, but the surface itself could no longer lift any swells. It became as smooth as a mirror.
A natal treasure? Chen Yu mused inwardly.
In the Golden Core system of Xu Xuan Heaven, this was no simple matter.
Most of a Golden Core cultivator’s divine powers and might were condensed into their natal treasure. A treasure was not just a weapon—it was the materialized embodiment of the cultivator’s Great Dao.
An ordinary Golden Core rogue cultivator who had not yet refined their own natal treasure, when facing an orthodox Daoist cultivator with a proper treasure like this, was already at a disadvantage before the battle even began.
He himself had never refined a treasure, nor did he truly understand the experience of condensing a Golden Core.
If he were anyone else, facing such a setup, he would have already fled on his flying sword.
But unfortunately for them, he wasn’t just anyone.
“Heaven-Spanning Earth-Shrinking Technique,” Chen Yu muttered casually.
【Demon King Form】
【Gel Projection】
With that, Chen Yu made a hand-seal gesture, and a flash of spiritual energy circulation flickered briefly between his fingers.
He breathed in deeply, and his entire form began to expand upward, like an avalanche. With every breath, his size doubled.
Before the Guanshan Dao Master’s eyes, his form swelled explosively. First, it surpassed the height of the Sea-Suppressing Treasure Tripod. Then it exceeded the height of the cliff on Guanshan Island. Then higher, and higher—until a figure nearly a hundred zhang tall stood upon the blue waves, blocking out a small portion of the rising sun’s light.
And beyond that hundred-zhang form, an even more colossal, golden phantom floated up. The phantom was transparent, its outline far larger than the physical body, hovering in the sky above the sea.
From the direction of the bay terrace, the scene before them no longer looked like anything from the mortal world.
On the sea, a god-like colossal figure stood towering, surrounded by dazzling golden light. It cast a warm, glittering glow over the dim sea surface that had previously only been bright at the horizon. Even the black rocks on the cliff of Guanshan Island, weathered by the sea wind for a thousand years, were coated in a soft golden hue.
The Sea-Suppressing Treasure Tripod hung before the massive figure. The bronze giant tripod that had just seemed majestic and imposing now looked rather delicate and exquisite, like a fine incense burner hanging before a giant.
“Is this the Heaven-Spanning Earth-Shrinking Technique?”
“Is this an ancient method?”
The cultivators on the terrace cried out in astonishment. The young disciples of the Guanshan Dojo crowded against the railing, craning their necks upward.
The Guanshan Dao Master swallowed hard, forcing down a cold breath.
“Merely petty tricks, just illusions.”
He said this, but there was no restraint in his actions.
Under his urging, the Sea-Suppressing Treasure Tripod crashed into the golden phantom with a roar. The blue pillar of light in its belly suddenly surged.
The nine coiled dragon patterns rose from the tripod’s body, transforming into nine bronze-colored dragon phantoms that coiled around the tripod. Each dragon shadow was over a dozen zhang long. Their dragon mouths gaped wide, emitting a low, humming roar.
This strike was the Guanshan Dao Master’s full power. There was no testing.
Chen Yu extended a massive golden arm and swung it against the treasure tripod, colliding head-on with the bronze giant tripod. At the moment of impact, a ring of golden ripples spread outward from the point of collision in all directions.
The instant the ripples swept across the sea, the waves that had been suppressed by the treasure tripod exploded again.
Giant waves dozens of meters high surged outward from the center of the impact, their crests white as snow spray from an avalanche, crashing one after another against the cliff of Guanshan Island.
The island-protecting grand formation of Guanshan Island lit up just before the giant waves struck the island’s body. A layer of pale blue light shield rose from the island’s foundation, enveloping the entire island.
The massive waves slammed into the light shield, like countless giant fists striking simultaneously. The shield flickered unsteadily, alternating flashes of blue and white. Each flicker made the cultivators on the island’s hearts skip a beat.
The Guanshan Dao Master’s pupils suddenly constricted.
He hadn’t expected this “Heaven-Spanning Earth-Shrinking Technique” to be able to clash head-on with his natal treasure without losing ground, and even to counterattack against the treasure tripod’s control over the sea in the midst of the collision.
He hesitated no longer. Both hands formed seals, his fingers flying through incantations as he shouted in a low voice.
“Four seas, return to your positions at once!”
The tides rose in response.
The water of the entire bay seemed to be lifted from the seabed by some force, converging toward the mouth of the Sea-Suppressing Treasure Tripod.
The nine dragon phantoms darted through the seawater, each trailing a wake behind it. The water dragons coiled around the tripod, and the tripod hummed loudly.
Chen Yu could feel a force he hadn’t felt before, shaking his demiplane projection.
This was probably what the cultivators of Xu Xuan Heaven called the Great Dao.
He took a step back, creating a massive whirlpool dozens of zhang deep on the sea surface.
The golden phantom flickered unsteadily under the assault of the nine dragons. Each time the dragon shadows coiled around the tripod struck the projection’s surface, ripples spread along the edges of the phantom. Clearly, even the demiplane projection couldn’t hold out much longer.
Chen Yu vaguely understood—this thing was actually quite interesting.
But this was where it ended. It was just the right time to try out the sword formation he had recently learned.
【Split Proliferation】
And then, on the hundred-zhang body of the golden divine figure, more figures began to split off.
Each figure was a replica of Chen Yu’s current white-robed Sword Immortal appearance, each holding a long sword, lined up in a row before the hundred-zhang main body.
Seventeen golden god-like Sword Immortals hung simultaneously above the sea surface, surrounding the Guanshan Dao Master and his treasure tripod in the center.
The Guanshan Dao Master’s hand seals paused.
What ancient method was this?
A clone derived from transformation arts?
Or the legendary external avatar?
Before he could organize his thoughts, he heard the sword hum.
From behind each Sword Immortal, six long swords flew out. Adding Chen Yu’s own twelve swords, a total of one hundred and eight flying swords formed a vast, circulating sword formation.
The blades simultaneously emitted a blinding white flash under the rising sun. One hundred and eight beams of sword light all aimed directly at the Guanshan Dao Master.
The Guanshan Dao Master instinctively swept his gaze over these sword lights and breathed half a sigh of relief.
These swords were merely ordinary iron. Their spiritual light was dim, lacking the warm, smooth luster characteristic of a treasure.
As long as they weren’t treasures, it was manageable.
The moment he finished that thought, Chen Yu’s majestic, calm voice came from the center of the sword formation.
“Fellow cultivator, if you can withstand this one strike of mine, then even if you falsely accuse me, I will accept it.”
【Body Into Sword】
The seventeen golden divine figures simultaneously emitted a low, drawn-out sword hum, like seventeen ancient bells being rung together at the bottom of the sea.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The bodies of the golden divine figures began to dissolve. Starting from the edges, bit by bit, they transformed into countless streams of golden sword light, converging into the morning sky above.
They gathered at the zenith into a single, indescribably massive golden sword, emitting a celestial hum that only preceded disasters.
That golden rainbow slowly descended toward the sea. Before the sword tip had even touched the water, the sea itself began to split.
The seawater automatically retreated to both sides beneath the sword tip, revealing a trench that grew deeper and deeper. The entire bay’s seawater surged to the sides.
The damp sediment of the seabed was exposed to the morning light. Tiny silver fish, too slow to retreat with the receding water, flopped helplessly on the dark brown mud, their scales reflecting fragments of light under the sword’s radiance.
This Heaven-Piercing Golden Rainbow slowly entered the sea.
Every inch the sword tip descended, the entire bay trembled.
On the terrace, no one was standing anymore. The once-high-spirited rogue cultivators were now pale as ash.
The broad-shouldered man with the broadsword had his hand on his blade, shaking.
The Guanshan Dao Master’s pupils contracted sharply.
“Fellow cultivator! It was all a misunderstanding! Stop at once! I believe you!”
Chen Yu heard this and redirected his sword art.
The Heaven-Piercing Golden Rainbow changed direction in the instant before it touched the seabed sediment. The blade grazed past the cliff of Guanshan Island, slashing diagonally from the east side of the bay to the west, finally plunging into the deep-sea region more than a dozen miles away from Guanshan Island.
The moment the golden rainbow entered the sea, the ocean was split in half.
A massive fissure appeared on the sea surface, extending from the deep sea to a horizon that could not be seen. The seawater was forcibly separated by the sword intent. The water walls on both sides of the fissure were dozens of zhang high, and the seabed sediment at the bottom was fully exposed to the morning light.
The impact raised giant waves immeasurably higher than the aftershock of the earlier collision. The waves surged over the reefs, over the top of the island-protecting grand formation’s light shield, and plunged directly into the streets of Guanshan Island.
Seawater completely flooded the entire island, breaking through the island-protecting grand formation. It swept across the stone pavement of the main street, overturned fish baskets on vendor stalls, soaked the cloth banners in front of inns, and drenched several islanders who hadn’t managed to run inside.
If the Guanshan Dao Master hadn’t been struck by divine inspiration and used the treasure tripod to forcibly suppress the most violent surge, the island-protecting grand formation would have collapsed on the spot.
The seawater raged for a long time before slowly calming.
The golden sword light lingering on the sea scattered like golden sparks, drifting in the wind, falling one by one into the now-peaceful sea.
The rising sun had fully leaped above the sea. Sunlight breaking through the clouds refracted in the lingering mist, forming a massive rainbow spanning across the bay.
The white-robed fallen immortal was still there, his flying sword hovering in the morning light.
The entire building fell silent.