Dark clouds pressed down heavily, casting a solemn air over the surroundings. Faint thunder rumbled in the distant horizon, sounding like a slumbering giant beast rolling over.
In the center of the Heavenly Punishment Platform, a woman in white had her hands bound to a disciplinary post by heavy chains. Her white robes were stained with dust and blood, and her long hair fell forward, obscuring half of her face. The chains clinked softly in the wind, a slow, rhythmic sound that resembled a beating heart.
Several figures sat around the main execution ground. In the very center sat the leader of the Sword Sect, Sword Venerable Zixiao. To his left was Elder Bai Cen of the Elixir Hall, and to his right was Su Li, the current Sect Leader of the Beast Taming Sect. Though she was called the Sect Leader, the Beast Taming Sect had been annexed by the Sword Sect years ago, so she was merely a spectator who had come to watch the commotion. Further back, a Daoist in green robes sat with his head bowed; he was Jiang Ci's master, Daoist Qingwei.
“Su Li, this is an internal matter of our Sword Peak. What does it have to do with you?” Sword Venerable Zixiao knit his brows, barking at the woman in the red dress beside him.
“Oh my, Sword Venerable Zixiao, what a temper you have.” Su Li smiled radiantly, her snow-white legs crossed and resting on the wooden table. Her exquisite figure was faintly visible beneath her crimson sheer dress. Her fox-like eyes held an alluring charm, and as her gaze drifted, her red lips parted slightly. “This lady didn't want to get involved in this mess either. But who told your Sword Peak to produce such an... outstanding disciple?”
She glanced toward the bound woman in white, her tone playful. “Besides, the Beast Taming Sect was annexed by you long ago. If Elder Bai of your Elixir Hall can come, why is this lady forbidden?” She looked at Bai Cen, her smile loaded with meaning. “Could it be that Elder Bai and Sword Venerable Zixiao share some unspeakable secrets?”
Sword Venerable Zixiao's face darkened. He cast a disdainful glance at Daoist Qingwei behind him, exchanged a look with Bai Cen, and took a step forward.
“Sinner Jiang Ci, do you confess to your crimes!”
Tied to the disciplinary post, Jiang Ci kept her head lowered, staring at the ground. Her lips were pressed tight, and her light gray, glass-like eyes were calm and devoid of emotion, as if the man standing before her were nothing but thin air.
“I am asking you a question! Do you confess!” Impatience flared on Sword Venerable Zixiao's face. He raised his voice, his spit nearly flying onto Jiang Ci's face.
Jiang Ci raised her head slightly, glanced at him, and lowered it again. Her brow furrowed faintly, as if she found him too noisy.
“Good. Very good.” Infuriated by her attitude, Sword Venerable Zixiao flicked his wrist. A golden lightning whip materialized in his hand, tearing through the air to lash at Jiang Ci, leaving a charred whip mark across her waist.
Jiang Ci's pupils contracted, and her hands instinctively gripped the chains. Her body trembled slightly, her breathing quickening, but she gritted her teeth and did not make a sound.
“What a stubborn bone you are. Let's see how many lashes you can take!”
Sparks of lightning danced along the whip as it fell upon Jiang Ci time and again. Her white robes tore, revealing crisscrossing bloody welts. Behind them, a flash of pity crossed Daoist Qingwei's eyes. He turned his head away, as if doing so could shut out Jiang Ci's suffering, his hands clenching tightly inside his sleeves.
Jiang Ci was not blind. She could see everything. A trace of disappointment flickered in her glass-like eyes, but she said nothing. The final sliver of hope she had harbored in her heart was utterly shattered.
“Stop whipping her. You won't get any answers no matter how much you beat her,” Bai Cen said, casting a disdainful glance at Sword Venerable Zixiao. He walked over to stand in front of Jiang Ci, squeezing out a strained smile. “My young friend, tell us what you found in the Northern Border. Tell this elder. Rest assured, I will see that justice is done for you.”
Covered in wounds, Jiang Ci raised her eyes to look at his hypocritical face. She suddenly felt a wave of nausea. Her lips twitched as she uttered her first words since arriving here in a cold, hoarse voice:
“I am innocent.”
Bai Cen's smile froze on his face, but he forced himself to maintain it. “Fine, innocent. Then tell me, what did you discover in the Northern Border?”
Jiang Ci looked at him and shook her head. “Nothing to say.”
“What?” Bai Cen looked as if he had misheard, his face turning from green to pale. “Stubborn fool, you refuse to do this the easy way!”
With a dark expression, he suddenly grabbed Jiang Ci by the throat and forced a pill down her neck. Jiang Ci's eyes widened as she struggled desperately, but she could not stop the medicinal effects from taking hold. Her consciousness grew hazy, as if she were submerged in warm water. Her limbs felt weak, yet she could still clearly perceive everything around her—the voices, the faces, and every single gaze.
“If you have questions, you may ask them now,” Bai Cen said languidly, clapping his hands. “A Truth-Telling Pill. Its effects last for fifteen minutes. Please make it quick.”
He gestured with his eyes for Sword Venerable Zixiao to go first.
“Pfft—”
An ill-timed chuckle broke the solemnity. Su Li was idly cleaning her bright red fingernails, speaking casually to the vermilion bird perched on her shoulder. “The Sword Peak and the Elixir Hall are truly ruthless to their own. This Truth-Telling Pill requires the souls of blood relatives to refine, after all.”
Her voice was not loud, but it was enough for everyone present to hear.
The faces of Sword Venerable Zixiao, Bai Cen, and Daoist Qingwei turned unsightly. Daoist Qingwei, in particular, averted his gaze, guilt practically written all over his face.
“Hmph.” Sword Venerable Zixiao took a step forward, sword qi rippling outward with him as the epicenter. Su Li narrowed her eyes slightly, sensing the sharp aura—the late-stage Void Refinement Rank. Soon, however, she resumed her playful, irreverent expression. “Oh dear, my careless chatter must have disturbed you. Please, continue. Ignore this lady.”
Sword Venerable Zixiao strode forward, grabbing Jiang Ci by her hair and forcing her to look him in the eye. “Speak! What did you discover in the Northern Border!”
Jiang Ci could not control her body, nor could she control her mouth. She heard herself speaking—fragmented words drifting from what seemed like a great distance:
“...The Great Wall... is not...” “...Open...” “...Blood...” “...Ritual...”
The drug's effects gradually receded. Her consciousness rushed back like a rising tide.
By the time she was fully awake, her head was throbbing with a splitting pain, and she was drenched in a cold sweat. She found herself kneeling on the ground. Before her, the expressions of Sword Venerable Zixiao, Bai Cen, and Daoist Qingwei were grim. Only Su Li was smiling like a flower in bloom.
“This lady really didn't come in vain today, hearing such a shocking secret,” Su Li said, twirling a lock of hair by her ear. “But my lips aren't very tight. And now that the Northern Border is no longer safe, materials for breeding ice-attributed demon beasts will only become harder to find~”
Sword Venerable Zixiao and Bai Cen exchanged a glance, both seeing the gravity in each other's eyes.
Sword Venerable Zixiao spoke, gritting his teeth, “We will give you fifteen percent of the ice calamity seeds brought from the Northern Border.”
Su Li's eyes lit up. “Thirty percent.”
“Twenty percent.”
“Twenty-five percent.”
“Fine. Twenty-five percent it is.” Sword Venerable Zixiao squeezed the words through his teeth, his heart aching so much he could nearly spit blood.
Having secured what she wanted, Su Li was in high spirits. Swinging her legs down from the table, her bare feet swayed back and forth. “Then this lady won't overstay her welcome. Goodbye, everyone.”
She leapt into the air, and the vermilion bird on her shoulder transformed into a fire phoenix, carrying her into the sky. A streak of gold and red, she vanished into a rift in the dark clouds.
Looking at Jiang Ci, Sword Venerable Zixiao could not suppress the rage burning in his chest. He kicked her repeatedly, blow after blow—only stopping when her once-upright spine finally bent, leaving her curled into a tight ball.
“Phew—” He smoothed his disheveled beard and delivered his cold verdict. “Sinner Jiang Ci, for the murder of your fellow disciple Liu Yun, defying your elders, and colluding with calamity spirits. You are sentenced to the Seven Tribulations Heavenly Thunder. Your cultivation shall be destroyed, and you shall be exiled to the Northern Border, never to set foot in the Central Continent again.”
Daoist Qingwei grabbed his sleeve in disbelief. “Senior Brother! She is the Sword Heir of our Azure Cloud Sword Art! Senior Brother!”
With a flick of his sleeve, Sword Venerable Zixiao shook off his hand. “My mind is made up. Say no more. Bai Cen, carry out the sentence.”
Before his voice could fade, he had already departed on his flying sword.
“Senior Brother! Senior Brother! Sigh...” Daoist Qingwei cast a deep look at Jiang Ci before turning to leave.
On the Heavenly Punishment Platform, only the curled-up Jiang Ci and the standing figure of Bai Cen remained, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked down at her, a mocking curve playing on the corner of his lips.
The wind carried the smell of charred flesh as the dark clouds pressed even lower. The distant thunder drew closer. The chains clinked softly in the wind, clink, clink, like some final countdown—or perhaps, like a death knell tolling for her.
Rate on N.U.
