Return Of The Sword God

009

Qing Zilong stepped away from the mountains with calm strides. The night sky remained cloaked in darkness, yet it did not hinder his vision in the slightest. Every rustle of the wind, the scent of the trees, and even the pulse of Qi flowing within the forest could be felt clearly.

A moment later, he halted. He closed his eyes, allowing his spiritual consciousness to sink deep into his own body.

"The Dantian is perfected. The meridians are also far stronger."

He clenched his fist. The Primal Purple Qi flowed smoothly along his meridian pathways without obstruction. However, the faint smile soon vanished.

"But my cultivation is still too low."

The issue was no longer the quality of his body. Qing Zilong’s physique now far surpassed that of an ordinary cultivator, yet that solid foundation remained an empty shell without sufficient energy. Zilong took a Spirit Stone from his ring, gripped it tightly, and absorbed the energy within.

Crack.

The Spirit Stone turned dull before finally crumbling into dust. Zilong shook his head slowly and let the powder fall to the ground. "Too slow. Spirit Stones are only suitable for maintaining cultivation, not for chasing rapid improvements in a short time."

His gaze shifted to the east. Beyond the dense Black Mist Forest lay a valley known as one of the gathering points for the Heaven and Earth Qi. If his memory served him correctly, that place was also a den for various Beasts.

"If that place still exists," he muttered, "that is where I shall cultivate."

He resumed his journey. Only a few hundred steps away from the mountains, his senses caught something: the rustling of leaves, heavy breathing, and the scent of beast blood. Zilong stopped. He did not turn his head, but the corners of his lips lifted.

"Come out."

Silence. A moment later—

WUSSHH!

A black shadow darted from behind the bushes. Two black horns glimmered in the moonlight, accompanied by a pair of red eyes radiating intense killing intent.

"Iron-Horned Wolf," Zilong hissed.

A Rank-Three Beast. A predator that would be quite troublesome for an Early Realm cultivator, but not for him.

ROAAARR!!

The wolf lunged. Its claws aimed straight for Zilong’s chest, but the Sword God merely shifted his body half a step. Sreet! The sharp claws missed his clothes by a hair’s breadth. Before the beast could land, its iron tail swept through the air. Zilong ducked calmly.

The wolf growled in anger and attacked again with greater ferocity, yet every strike missed. Zilong never moved more than necessary; every movement seemed to read the direction of his enemy’s attack long before it happened.

Zilong shook his head slightly. "Your instincts are decent, but you rely too much on brute force."

As the wolf pounced again, Zilong finally moved. His body spun past the side of the beast with lightning speed. His index and middle fingers struck precisely at a point beneath the jaw.

BRAK!

The beast’s body froze. A moment later, its massive frame collapsed without even the chance to let out a final roar. Zilong crouched, expertly split the beast's head, and retrieved a crystal the size of a thumb.

"Not bad. If I collect a few more, these can become the main ingredients for pills."

He placed the Beast Core into his ring and continued his journey. The deeper he ventured, the denser and warmer the Qi in the air felt, but the roars of beasts around him grew even wilder.

"Now," Zilong’s smile appeared, "this finally feels like the start of cultivation."

However, his steps suddenly stopped. His gaze swept over the forest ahead; massive trees were toppled, the ground was stained with fresh blood, and there were traces of Qi explosions in several spots. Zilong crouched, touching the slashes on the tree trunks and the ground.

"Sword... beast claws... three people, one beast," he muttered. He touched the still-warm soil. "The fight just ended."

Before he could even stand—

"Help!!"

A woman's scream shattered the silence of the night, followed by a beast’s roar that shook the forest. ROAAARRR!!

Zilong straightened his body. His gaze turned sharp, and his hand moved toward the hilt of the old sword on his back. "If there is still time, they can be saved."

WUSSHH!

Qing Zilong’s body darted through the trees, vanishing into the darkness of the night toward the source of the scream.