Chapter 58: Kill, Leave No Root Behind

As soon as they landed, several sword cultivators surrounded Xia Jiuxuan.

“My apologies. We are newcomers to your island, in haste to travel and unfamiliar with local rules. Please show mercy,” Xia Jiuxuan said, not wanting trouble. He produced a rather fine spiritual herb and offered it.

Swish!

The other side answered with a sword slash, cutting the herb in two.

“Mercy my ass! Take them down!”

There were seven sword cultivators in all. Each unleashed their sword intent and, without further ado, moved to seize Xia Jiuxuan and his companion.

Xia Jiuxuan’s expression darkened. He spoke coldly, “Han Yu, what should we do in this situation?”

Han Yu answered instinctively, “Kill!”

Xia Jiuxuan pressed, “And then?”

Han Yu continued, “Eliminate the roots, leave none alive!”

A smile curled at Xia Jiuxuan’s lips. “You’ve only followed me a few days, yet you’ve already grasped the essence of killing. Not bad.”

Boom!

He brandished his spear, sending forth a barrage of spear shadows.

“Spear intent!”

“Be careful, everyone. Prepare the sword formation!”

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

The seven quickly shifted positions, forming a coordinated sword array.

“Trash,” Xia Jiuxuan muttered. With a sweeping motion of his spear, his violent spear intent shattered the formation. Two were killed outright.

These seven were merely sword cultivators at the seventh or eighth level of the Entering Palace realm, barely having comprehended a sliver of sword intent. Killing them was like slaughtering chickens.

“Run for your lives!” The remaining ones realized they had kicked a steel wall and scattered in panic.

Xia Jiuxuan tossed the Dragon Scale Spear into the air, its intent splitting into afterimages—each strike taking a life until none remained.

“The usual routine,” he said.

As soon as Xia Jiuxuan retrieved his spear, Han Yu scampered over, looting the corpses of all valuables. He then dragged their bodies together and set them ablaze.

“Let’s go!”

All this occurred in the span of mere seconds. It was half an hour after Xia Jiuxuan and Han Yu had vanished before anyone discovered the scene.

“How dare you kill men of Lihuo Island! Unforgivable! Whoever you are, your whole clan will be wiped out!”

…

Reaching the eastern cliffs of the island, Xia Jiuxuan leapt into the sea with Han Yu, diving down along the underwater mountainside.

Though the landscape had changed somewhat from Xia Jiuxuan’s memory, his spiritual sense guided him to the right place.

After sinking a thousand fathoms, Xia Jiuxuan summoned the Dragon Scale Spear and struck a dust-shrouded stone stele. Its arcane patterns soon broke, and as the stele shattered, a stone door in the seabed roared open.

“Inside!”

He grabbed the nearly suffocated Han Yu and rushed through the opening.

A barrier at the cave entrance kept the seawater at bay.

“Huff… huff…” Han Yu gasped for air. His cultivation was too low for him to hold his breath.

“Follow me. We’re almost there.” Xia Jiuxuan continued ahead. Luminous stones were set into the walls, lighting the path.

Han Yu jogged to keep up with Xia Jiuxuan. Soon, an ancient bronze gate loomed before them.

On either side of the door, archaic script was inscribed:

With upright spirit, slay demon and fiend;
A blunt brush, its words suppress the ages.

Han Yu stared at those lines, frozen as if beholding a heavenly fairy in the flesh.

“This… this is the calligraphy of a Sage of Letters!” Han Yu trembled all over, tears welling in his eyes.

“A minor scholar with some achievement, perhaps, but to call him a sage is an exaggeration,” Xia Jiuxuan said indifferently.

He had seen, and even fought, a true Sage of Letters.

To this day, he still felt awe recalling it: a worn brush, a few sheets of yellowed paper, poems written to kill, almost scattering his very soul.

Kong Tiange—now that was a real Sage of Letters, a grand scholar who dared duel with emperors over life and death.

The man before them was merely a beginner on the path of letters, a character within the world Xia Jiuxuan himself had created.

“Master, why have you brought me here?” Han Yu could never have imagined his master would bring him to such a place.

His family, known for their scholarly tradition, were, in truth, viewed by others as useless bookworms, mere peddlers of empty words.

But Han Yu’s grandfather always told him that reading could make one strong, that books could be used to kill one’s enemies.

All his life, Han Yu devoured every book in their library, memorized every classic. Yet, the more he read, the weaker he seemed—by age twelve, he couldn’t even beat the family rooster.

He realized then he wasn’t the elegant, white-robed master he had dreamed of becoming, but rather a good-for-nothing scorned by all.

He began to doubt that the sages praised in those books were anything but a pile of manure, mere fiction.

A few days ago, his childhood friend Wang Weiyu had given him a swift kick, waking him up to reality: the scholarly path was worthless. He would join the Tai Xuan Academy and pursue martial cultivation instead.

But it was too late. All hope was gone. He was finished.

And yet, today, under the guidance of his mysterious master, he saw those two lines—lines that graced the first page of every classic he had ever read.

“I brought you here to claim his legacy, to become a true scholar-cultivator,” Xia Jiuxuan said.

Buzz.

Han Yu’s mind went blank, as if submerged in water.

“So… the Sage of Letters really existed, and this is the very sanctuary described in the books!”

Xia Jiuxuan nodded. “This man had great talent on the scholarly path, but at the time, I disliked the way of letters. So I cut off the scholarly root in this world. He withered and died here in this secret hall, leaving his legacy behind, hoping someone would solve the mystery of the severed path.”

Xia Jiuxuan could hardly be blamed. Back then, as the foremost below the emperor level, he had nearly died in battle against the Grand Scholar Kong Tiange. The experience left him resentful.

Later, he found that in the world he had shaped within himself, some had begun to comprehend the way of letters. In his bitterness, Xia Jiuxuan severed that root, dooming the path before it could begin.

Han Yu was bewildered. “Master, just what are you? What world, what root—none of this makes sense, but it all sounds incredible.”

Xia Jiuxuan couldn’t be bothered to explain. It would take centuries and still make no sense.

“Enough nonsense. The so-called Sage of Letters was named Ning Longyue. Before his death, he left three trials. If you can pass, you will obtain his Palace of Letters. With that, and with the Four Treasures of the Study that I’ll craft for you, all those old classics you memorized will finally be useful.”

Han Yu’s heart surged with waves. The “Palace of Letters” had been mentioned many times in the classics, but he had never known what it was. Only here, at the site of inheritance, could one acquire it!

“But Master, didn’t you say the root was already severed? Can I really become strong?” Han Yu asked, doubt in his voice.

“Are you doubting me?” Xia Jiuxuan’s brow arched.

Now, for others, the scholarly path was impossible. But if Xia Jiuxuan wished to make someone a scholar-cultivator, it would be so.

“I wouldn’t dare! Please, Master, open the door for me so I can claim the inheritance!”

Han Yu was beside himself with excitement. The dreams he had dismissed as fantasy were real—the road to success lay before him!

“Open it yourself.”

Xia Jiuxuan’s tone was flat.

Han Yu was stunned. The door looked formidable, surely protected by intricate mechanisms. How could he open it?

“Master, would you please…”

“Get on with it. Open it yourself.”

Xia Jiuxuan sat down, closed his eyes, and ignored Han Yu completely.

Han Yu felt awkward, but thought, “He’s right. I can’t bother Master with everything; I must seize this chance myself!”

With renewed determination, Han Yu began ramming his shoulder against the bronze door.

After half an hour, both shoulders were raw and nearly useless.

“Idiot!”

Xia Jiuxuan opened his eyes, looking at Han Yu with exasperation.

“Did you only read cow manure? Sense it—use your spirit to feel!”

Han Yu slumped to the ground, grinning ruefully. “Master, why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“Thank you, Master. I’ll try.” Han Yu picked himself up, closed his eyes, and recited a passage from the Canon of Supreme Response.

Gradually, his mind grew still, a deep comfort spreading through him. For the first time, he felt peace.

“The aura is inside. Charge in!”

At that moment, sword intent surged toward the cave in a frenzy.

“Hmm?” Xia Jiuxuan’s brow flickered. He spread his spiritual awareness.

“So a spell cultivator led them here. No wonder they arrived so quickly!”

Earlier, after Xia Jiuxuan killed the seven sword cultivators, the enemy brought in a spellcaster to trace the lingering aura and follow the trail here.

Outside the cave stood at least twenty sword cultivators of the Profound Connection realm, one of them at the seventh level!

“They’re inside! Kill them!”

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Figures shot in like arrows loosed from a bow.

“Fool! Open the door, now!” Even Xia Jiuxuan was growing anxious. He despised the way of letters and had never bothered with the classics—he couldn’t open the door himself.

In a blink, the sword cultivators had reached Xia Jiuxuan.

He hefted the Dragon Scale Spear and, without a word, swept it in a wide arc.

The two at the front lost their heads.

“Kill them all!” bellowed the sword cultivator at the seventh Profound Connection level, his sword intent blazing as he charged in.