Volume Two: The Mortal Realm Chapter Fifty-Four: The Seal

What is gray?
The cold, rough surface of steel, the dull, shriveled face of the dead.
It is the color of lifeless silence.
Holding the iron-gray longsword that bore his own name, Sword Nine stepped into the thunder and flames, into the whirlwind of sword energy. The blade in his hand remained plain and unadorned, yet from his being shone a dazzling, razor-sharp brilliance. Every surge of lightning and fire that crashed against him shattered and dissolved.
Where he walked, all became purified ground.
Song Mingyu and Ying Kui, seeing Sword Nine intervene, split apart, flanking the two fiends from front and back, their swords blocking the retreat, leaving the main battlefield to Sword Nine.
Suspended in midair, the two fiends—one shaped like a goat, the other like a human—froze. They, too, sensed the threat emanating from Sword Nine.
The goat-shaped fiend’s body was wreathed in flickering blue flames. Within those flames, its blood-soaked head stared downward, two cavernous sockets glaring at Sword Nine as he approached, demonic and fierce.
It unleashed a sharp, piercing howl. Lightning and fire swept upward, conjuring countless ghastly faces, surging into a torrent that rushed toward Sword Nine.
Sword Nine took a step forward, stamping the ground. With a thunderous “boom,” the earth trembled. That muffled thud seemed to reverberate in everyone’s heart, sending a chill through the soul.
He used the upward momentum from the stomp, leapt, raised his sword skyward. The ordinary blade in his hand seemed to possess the weight of a thousand mountains.
To the onlookers, his swing appeared slow, tracing a clear arc in the air.
Yet that slow-forming arc completely shielded him from the raging torrent of thunder and flame. Every surge that met the sword’s curve vanished silently and without a trace.
All tumult, all fury, abruptly ceased. The scene was serene, almost lonely.
But in Ye Mingke’s mind, eyes closed, the vision was grand and boundless.
He saw the crimson energy torrent crash against the line of sword arc, a distinct black stroke in Ye Mingke’s mind, then fracture and scatter, transforming into countless mixed-colored sparks that whirled upward.
That sword was like a brush saturated with ink, sweeping heavily across white paper, leaving a bold, inky trail.
The stroke pressed forward, ink trailing long, slashing into the black curtain that represented the fiend in Ye Mingke’s mind.
Though both were black, the sword’s stroke carved a line of light through the darkness.
“Boom.”
Sword Nine, leaping with sword raised, drove the arc of his blade forward, cleaving through the torrent of flames, slashing at the thunderous light on the goat fiend, severing its entire head!
The goat’s head, still shrouded in lightning and fire, flew high and then fell. Sword Nine, relentless, crashed through its body.
Afterward, he faced his former fellow disciple, now transformed into the human-shaped fiend.
The human fiend let out a shrill laugh, spun, and transformed into a mass of thunder and flame, fleeing madly.
Sword Nine, wielding his longsword, seemed slowed, trailing after the fiend for a distance before landing heavily with a “boom,” sending dust billowing into the air.
He lifted his face toward the fleeing fiend, his long hair, shaken loose, fell to veil his eyes.
After that sword’s single sweep, strands of gray appeared amid his black hair.
The fiend escaped quickly, widening the distance in a blink, yet Sword Nine’s expression remained unchanged.
Hidden beneath his hair, his lips moved.
“Beidou.”
“Clang, clang, clang, clang…” Seven resonant sword cries sounded in succession. The seven swords—Greedy Wolf, Breaking Army, Integrity, Giant Gate, and others—which had been embedded in the ground nearby during the attack on the hidden ghost, quivered in unison.
Seven brilliant sword beams soared upward, forming an interlocking sword array that trapped the fleeing human fiend in midair.
Sword energy surged like a tide, enveloping the fiend and forcing it to crash heavily to the earth. The seven spiritual swords followed, each plunging deep into the ground according to the positions of the Beidou stars.

The sword array fully formed, sword energy roiling, rising like a whirlwind, relentlessly slicing at the fiend’s body.
The fiend struggled and roared within the array, trying to stand. Thunder and fire flickered on its body, struggling upward, even making the seven deeply embedded spiritual swords tremble, threatening collapse at any moment.
But Sword Nine, holding the silent iron-gray longsword, had already walked step by step to the fiend’s side, gazing through the array at the blood-stained, delicate, and familiar face.
“You always cared about your looks, just like your sister. Becoming like this, you surely hate it.”
Sword Nine lowered his eyes, speaking softly to that face.
“Let me help you.”
His voice carried quiet sorrow.
He stared at the fiend, silent, then spoke again.
“I’m sorry.”
“Clang, clang, clang, clang…” The seven spiritual swords rose into the air. The fiend, nearly shredded by sword energy, suddenly lashed out fiercely, blazing with thunder, charging at Sword Nine.
Sword Nine raised his sword high.
With a “puff,” the fiend was wiped away like a painting erased by a divine brush, torn to pieces and nothingness.
In Ye Mingke’s mind, he saw Sword Nine’s raised blade slice the fiend into a riot of dazzling colors, as if a beautiful abstract painting.
He had told Ye Mingke he would kill one and leave one.
He chose to kill his fellow disciple, sparing the goat fiend.
“Clang, clang, clang, clang…” The seven spiritual swords landed, securing their positions, once more locking the fiend in place.
Now the fiend trapped was the headless goat, still trying to flee, blocked by Ying Kui and Li Guifan.
Sword Nine, whose hair had turned further gray, turned and walked to the struggling goat fiend, plunging his iron-gray sword into its body.
With a metallic clang, as the iron-gray sword entered the array, the other seven spiritual swords leaned away, as if in fear.
With the iron-gray sword added, the array finally suppressed the fiend completely. The once struggling fiend curled up, powerless.
A battle that lasted only a few moments felt endless to those present, but was finally over.
The dust stirred by thunder and sword energy slowly settled, revealing faces stained with ash, etched with fear, anger, and exhaustion.
Yet no one rested, no one brushed off the dust; all eyes were fixed on the headless goat fiend trapped in the array.
Li Guifan cautiously approached, checking the severed goat’s head, which had stopped moving after Sword Nine’s strike.
He found no sign of possession, then destroyed the head with sword energy, ensuring the fiend could only exist within the trapped goat body.
The first plan to attack the hidden fiend had utterly failed. Worse still, the fiend’s terrifying ability to split and possess had cost another life.
The deceased was one of the last five cultivators.
The fiend’s power now approached their limits of resistance. If its strength continued to grow, the next fiend might be beyond their ability to face.
Thus, only the second plan remained, only one chance left.
The fiend locked in the array was very quiet, as if all resistance had been drained.
The group watched it for a long time, seeing it remain still, and finally relaxed, sighing in relief.

“Whew, the fiend is suppressed. It won’t reappear, right?”
Li Guifan exhaled deeply, turning to Sword Nine.
“This fiend is too strange. With only a few days’ interval, no one can say for sure.”
Sword Nine shook his head, uncertain.
Once the others relaxed, fatigue washed over them like a tide; they sat or lay on the ground, talking softly.
“That fiend was terrifying.”
“I’ll probably have nightmares for the rest of my life.”
Bamboo Pole, tearful, spoke to Zhao Yuan beside him.
“I might need two lifetimes,” replied Zhao Yuan, pale and still shaken.
“Hey, I’m still alive?”
“Am I really alive?”
“Check for me!”
Fang Wu, timid as a mouse, who had been threatened by immortals and was the most likely target of the fiend, now behaved like one gone mad, grabbing people and asking if he was still alive, his joy so overwhelming he might never recover.
Those who had lost relatives or friends were gripped by sorrow, unable to escape its hold.
Song Mingyu sat on the ground where Song Mingqing had been obliterated by Sword Nine’s blade, weeping uncontrollably.
Ying Kui, eyes bloodshot, stared blankly at the only remaining flying sword of Song Mingqing, occasionally glancing at Ye Mingke, simmering with deep thoughts, grief, and anger.
But before joy or grief could be fully released, another change swept the field.
Barely two hours had passed since the fiend was sealed.
“Clang, clang, clang…” The eight spiritual swords suppressing the fiend trembled violently. The fiend, once curled up, struggled to stretch, shaking the entire sword array.
“Why is this happening?”
Li Guifan looked at the fiend’s body in despair.
“It seems to be growing stronger over time.”
Ye Mingke closed his eyes, trying to sense the fiend, but still saw only a black veil.
“Don’t forget the taboo: never let the fiend escape.”
Ye Mingke recalled a point they might have overlooked.
“The reason for this taboo is that, once possession succeeds, the fiend grows stronger with time, until no one can defeat it.”
“It’s not just ‘seems’; it is stronger.”
Sword Nine, linked in spirit to the sword array, face pale and cold, walked toward the array.
“So what can we do?” Li Guifan asked in confusion.
“Use a spatial artifact,” Sword Nine replied.