Master: This Villainous Disciple Is Not The Holy Child

“There’s nothing more. Unless you release my seal,” Qi Meng Die said, her voice strained, her teeth gritted. “Only then can I retrieve other items from my storage ring.”

Her gaze was fixed on Chu Xiu, who was squatting a short distance away, casually sorting through his loot.

“These are all Rank 4 pills, with a pathetically small number of Rank 5. And 4000 High-Grade Spirit Stones. Better than nothing, I guess.”

Chu Xiu nodded, storing the small pile of items in his storage pouch.

“Thanks, Master.”

Qi Meng Die watched his retreating figure, a wave of helplessness washing over her.

Perhaps I should plead with the Holy Master… maybe she can break the seal…

No, no, no… what if she can’t? What if that treacherous disciple senses danger and flees? Or worse… what if someone kills him? Then I… I’ll be trapped as a mortal… forever? I’ll grow old and die… a powerless, insignificant worm? No… that’s not the life I envisioned for myself…’

‘I, Qi Meng Die… a genius, a prodigy… destined for greatness, to challenge the ancient powers of the starry sky! I will not fall here…’

She reached inside her robes, retrieving a bronze mask adorned with a fox pattern.

‘I managed to retrieve this treasure while that rebellious disciple was distracted. Thankfully, he didn’t bother to search my person. Otherwise… he would have taken it from me.’

The Bronze Fox Mask.

It could mask the aura of any cultivator. As long as the wearer didn’t engage in physical contact with anyone, even a peak Saint King wouldn’t be able to detect their presence.

A flicker of sadness crossed her eyes as she recalled the figure standing atop Soul Returning Cliff a month ago, the bronze mask lying discarded on the ground.

‘That Chu Xiu… he was a true genius, wasn’t he? To achieve such power in a mere hundred years…’

And those words… “To break the shackles of mortality and achieve eternal life… the Great Emperors regretted their path, but I do not.”

How arrogant… how defiant… how utterly brilliant…

‘But… you were too powerful… too monstrous. The other Holy Lands, the ancient clans, the powerful sects… they couldn’t allow you to live. If you had survived… if you had reached the peak of cultivation… who would dare challenge you? Who would stand a chance?’

She shook her head, dispelling the melancholy thoughts.

‘Now… I must focus on escaping this treacherous disciple’s clutches. Otherwise… I will be his prisoner… forever.’

—

Chu Xiu, standing at the entrance to his cave dwelling, felt a subtle shift in the energy around him. A knowing smirk spread across his face.

‘Put it on, Master. I need you to wear that mask. It’s the only way I can safely cultivate within the Tai Su Holy Land.’

‘My dear… obedient… Master…’

He entered his cave dwelling and retrieved the Bloodcry Sword, a mysterious weapon bestowed upon him by the system.

Hum…

He unsheathed the sword, its blade pulsing with a crimson energy.

The sword was three feet and three inches long, its blade a brilliant red, as thin as a cicada’s wing. The hilt, crafted from the rib bone of an unknown beast, radiated a chilling killing intent.

‘A cursed weapon… not bad. It’ll do for now.’

Chu Xiu shook his head, his expression a mixture of disdain and acceptance. His current realm was too low to wield a truly powerful weapon. Even if he had a divine artifact, he wouldn’t be able to utilize its full potential.

He sat cross-legged, placing the Bloodcry Sword across his knees, and closed his eyes, focusing his mind, channeling his energy into the sword, beginning the process of refining it.

He had three days until his duel with Zhang Meng.

He intended to use this time to master a movement technique and two sword techniques.

One of the sword techniques was the one that belonged to the original Chu Xiu, the “tool” he was currently inhabiting: the Azure Edge Three Forms, a Profound Grade technique.

‘What a pathetic name.’

The name sounded weak, and the movements were simple: Draw Sword, Slash, Return Sword. It’s basically just… unsheathing the sword, striking the opponent, and sheathing the sword again.

Chu Xiu, a master swordsman in his previous life, saw something more in this seemingly basic technique. It possessed a certain… elegance, a simplicity that hinted at a deeper connection to the Dao.

What does it truly mean to be a swordsman?

Is it about manipulating a flying sword, killing from a thousand miles away, summoning a torrent of blades with a flick of the wrist? Is that all there is to it? Those flashy techniques… those superficial displays of power…

How utterly… shallow…

True mastery… it’s not about the technique itself… it’s about the *intent* behind it. The will… the spirit… that infuses every movement.

Sword Intent… once it reaches the Dao… a single, effortless strike… can shatter heaven and earth. Isn’t that… the true essence of the Azure Edge Three Forms? To draw the sword… to strike… and to sheathe…’

…

The next day, the full moon hung high in the sky, its silvery light illuminating the countless stars that twinkled like diamonds scattered across the velvet expanse of the night.

Inside Chu Xiu’s cave dwelling…

[Ding!]

[Congratulations, host! You have comprehended the concept of Intent! Commencing Intent Seeking…]

Hum…

A sword’s cry echoed in Chu Xiu’s mind.

And then…

His consciousness, his very soul, was pulled from his body by an invisible force, soaring through the air, passing through the protective formations of the Tai Su Holy Land, higher and higher…

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a vast, dark expanse.

He looked up, towards the darkness above, and saw countless beams of light descending from the void, each a different color, their widths varying from the thickness of a bucket to the slenderness of a chopstick.

The Primordial Land. The realm of Sword Intent.

Each beam of light represented a different Sword Intent.

Every swordsman had only one chance to enter this realm. Of course, Chu Xiu, having died and been reborn, was an exception.

Those who entered the Primordial Land had to find a Sword Intent that resonated with their own path, their own understanding of the sword.

Sword Intents varied in strength.

Some, incredibly powerful and rare, could grant even a swordsman at the Intent Seeking stage a level of power surpassing those with ordinary Domain Entry level Sword Intents.

Chu Xiu had been here before, in his previous life. But back then, he had already reached the Dao Palace realm.

He had no master to guide him, relying solely on his own talent and determination to forge his path. He had chosen a Sword Intent at random, a path of convenience, not of true understanding.

This time… he would find a Sword Intent worthy of his ambition, a power that would allow him to surpass his previous achievements, to reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship.

The deeper one ventured into the Primordial Land, the stronger the Sword Intents became.

He didn’t hesitate.

With a single thought, he soared through the darkness, passing countless beams of light, heading towards the very heart of the Primordial Land, the place where the most powerful Sword Intents resided.

A typical Sea of Bitterness cultivator, entering this realm, could only travel eight hundred meters before the pressure of the Primordial Land would crush their consciousness, their soul shattered beyond repair.

A shattered consciousness…

It meant… oblivion. Even if they survived, they would be a shadow of their former selves, their minds broken.

But Chu Xiu had no such concerns.

In his previous life, he had reached the peak of the Small Saint realm. He had battled countless geniuses, slaughtered countless Holy Sons and Holy Maidens, plundered countless treasures. His soul, tempered by a hundred years of constant warfare and the consumption of countless heavenly treasures, was far more resilient than that of an average Great Saint.

Otherwise… he wouldn’t have been able to cultivate the soul-transfer technique, to forcibly possess a new body and cheat death.

Eight hundred meters…

One thousand meters…

One thousand five hundred meters…

Two thousand meters…

…

Tai Su Holy Land, Tai Su Peak.

Inside a simple, unassuming cave dwelling…

A woman, dressed in a plain white dress, her long, flowing hair a striking shade of blue, slowly opened her eyes.

Her eyes… they were like a galaxy of stars, their light both brilliant and profound. With every breath she took, countless worlds were born and destroyed within their depths.

Three rings of light, gold, blue, and red, rotated clockwise behind her head, forming a halo of mystical energy.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, her features radiating a sense of power and authority, an aura that commanded respect and instilled a primal fear in the hearts of even the most powerful cultivators.

Even a Great Saint, standing before her, would lower their head, unable to meet her gaze.

She was the Holy Master of the Tai Su Holy Land, the current Tai Suzi.

A Saint King, a ruler of unmatched power and influence.

“Someone from the Holy Land is seeking Sword Intent…” she murmured, her voice as clear and cold as a mountain stream.

She raised her head, her eyes, like stars, seemed to pierce through the veil of reality, gazing across the river of time, focusing on the chaotic energy of the Primordial Land.

“Interesting…”

“Three thousand, five hundred meters…”

“No… four thousand meters…”

Her calm demeanor faltered slightly as she witnessed the cultivator’s progress.

“Six thousand, seven hundred and eighty-nine meters…”

“Seven thousand, seven hundred and sixty-seven meters…”

“Such a powerful soul… such an unyielding will… to reach such depths… at the early Sea of Bitterness realm…”

“Eight thousand, eight hundred and eighty-eight meters…!”

“Eighteen meters further than I reached… when I was at the Other Shore realm… seeking Saber Intent…”

“This child… he’s extraordinary. Could it be… a Great Saint has possessed his body? Or is he… simply a genius of unimaginable potential?”

…

Three hours passed.

Tai Suzi’s eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the cultivator’s progress.

“Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine meters…”

“How… how is this possible…”

She rose to her feet, her red lips parting slightly as she spoke, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

“Thirty thousand years ago… the Sword God of the Wújìn Sword Domain… a Quasi-Emperor whose Sword Intent shook the heavens… a master who could slay any opponent with a single strike… it is said that he reached… nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine meters… when he sought his Sword Intent…”

“Could it be… that our Tai Su Holy Land… is about to witness the rise… of another… Sword God?”