“Tsk, tsk. The Azure Cloud Sword Heir with the Glass Sword Heart.”
Bai Cen's gentle and refined disguise had been torn away by his own hands. Beneath the mask was unconcealed greed and covetousness.
Curled up on the ground, Jiang Ci had no desire to listen to his nonsense. She only wondered when the Seven Tribulations Heavenly Thunder would arrive, and when it would end. It would be best if everything could just be over quickly. She was already so tired.
“Still ignoring everyone with that same attitude, my little genius,” Bai Cen said, a mocking sneer rising on his face. “Even at a time like this, you still haven't learned to beg for mercy? Heh.”
“However, you will not be walking off this Heavenly Punishment Platform today.”
Bai Cen raised his wrist, holding a nine-patterned Heavenly Tribulation Pill in his hand. Clenching his fist, he crushed the pill to dust.
The moment the pill shattered, the prying gaze of the Heavenly Dao descended—a chilling pressure poured down from the vault of heaven, sending a shiver down her spine. The lightning tribulation was locking onto her.
“Enjoy it. The materials for this nine-patterned pill cost more than twice as much as a seven-patterned one. Make sure you protect my Sword Heart. Don't let it get blasted to ash. Hahahaha—”
Bai Cen's voice made Jiang Ci feel sick. As the tribulation clouds gathered, he used an escape technique to depart. On the vast Heavenly Punishment Platform, only Jiang Ci remained, kneeling on the ground. The chains were still wrapped around her wrists, the cold iron rings cutting deep into her flesh.
Only the howling wind sounded in her ears. Her light gray, glass-like eyes held a deep, lingering confusion. She did not know what she had done wrong. She had committed none of the crimes Zixiao accused her of. Colluding with calamity spirits? She had killed plenty of them. Murdering her fellow disciple? She had never even heard that person's name.
But she was not stupid. It was likely because she knew too much.
She had killed several Ice Spirit Cult cultists in the Northern Border and interrogated one of their missionaries. Even now, she did not dare to dwell on the secrets she had pried from that missionary's mouth. The Formation Sect. The calamity seeds. And that word—she was not even willing to utter it in her mind.
It was far too much. These secrets, which were enough to shatter one's Dao Heart, were close to becoming her inner demon.
Yet, after finally escaping the Northern Border from the joint pursuit of the Ice Spirit Cult and the ice calamity, thinking she had survived, she was met not with healing pills and praise for completing her mission, but with cold shackles.
“Heh.”
The corners of Jiang Ci's lips twitched, a mocking smile appearing on her cold, ethereal face. She knew there were traitors within the sect. But she had never expected that the traitors would be able to rally all of the higher-ups—including her master, who had raised her since childhood.
At this thought, a wave of bitterness welled up in Jiang Ci's heart. It was not just for her only family in the Sword Sect, but also for her Dao Heart and for justice.
She rubbed her eyes hard, forcing her tears back.
The tribulation clouds dominated the sky with a chilling, murderous aura. The air pressure was low, and gold-tinted purple lightning exploded and reformed within the pitch-black clouds. She gripped the sword in her hand—this sword was named Qinghan, forged for her by her master's own hands when she reached the Foundation Establishment realm. Now, the sword was still here, but the person who made it no longer dared to look at her.
Squeezing out what little spiritual energy remained in her dantian, she conjured a protective barrier.
The golden heavenly lightning, like the branches of an ancient tree, pierced through the oppressive dark sky and shot toward Jiang Ci, only to be blocked by the light green spiritual energy barrier, unable to advance any further.
One strike, two strikes, three strikes, five strikes.
The spiritual energy barrier was covered in cracks, but it held.
The tribulation clouds gave her no time to catch her breath.
The seventh strike.
This strike seemed to combine the power of all the previous ones. A thick lightning spear was hurled toward Jiang Ci by a giant in the sky, carrying a terrifying destructive force. Staring directly at the lightning spear, one could not help but feel a sense of despair and self-abandonment.
The tip of the spear was aimed straight at her, threatening to obliterate everything in its path.
The lightning spear collided with the barrier, producing a screeching, grating sound. The surrounding air was split apart, emitting a faint smell of ozone. Jiang Ci gritted her teeth, desperately pouring out her spiritual energy. But the cracks formed faster than she could repair them.
Crack—
The barrier shattered into a sky full of shards, which then dissolved into particles and vanished into the air.
Jiang Ci's eyes widened. In her panic, she raised her arms and turned her back to protect her vital areas. The lightning spear exploded against her back, bursting into a shower of sparks like a wild dance of golden serpents.
The smell of burnt flesh filled the air. A horribly charred wound covered her back, leaving her a bloody mess.
“Cough, cough... Cough—”
She plunged Qinghan into the ground. This was the only thing she had left. Her storage bag and space ring had been stripped clean before she was brought to the execution ground. The blood she coughed up stained the ground and coated the blade. This strike had caused severe internal damage.
The tribulation clouds were still brewing, as if preparing to press the attack.
A flood dragon formed of tribulation lightning emerged from the clouds—with horns like a stag, a head like a camel, a neck like a snake, a belly like a clam, scales like a fish, claws like an eagle, paws like a tiger, and ears like an ox. A hint of sentience seemed to flicker in its eyes as it bared its fangs and brandished its claws, lunging toward her.
The eighth strike.
Jiang Ci raised her blade with both hands. A layer of green spiritual energy wrapped around the blade—the very last trace she had managed to squeeze from her dried-up dantian.
The lightning dragon roared, its whiskers and mane whipping wildly as it opened its massive jaws to bite down on her.
Jiang Ci panted heavily, every breath bringing a wave of agony throughout her body. She gripped the hilt, pointing the sword at the charging dragon. The tip of her blade was trembling.
The lightning dragon seemed to be provoked, its momentum increasing by another twenty percent.
“Vibrate—”
The third form of the sword art, which vibrated the blade with spiritual energy to deflect all incoming attacks. Jiang Ci took a step forward. The vibrating blade dispersed the lightning, splitting the thick lightning dragon into several currents that struck the bluestone of the Heavenly Punishment Platform, exploding violently. Stone fragments flew everywhere, and a sharp shard grazed her right forehead.
Warm blood trickled down her face, blurring her vision. She lost focus for a brief moment.
And in that very moment, the spiritual energy on the blade shattered, leaving only the bare, fragile metal.
“Vibrate!”
Jiang Ci gritted her teeth, holding her ground against the lightning dragon. The intense impact forced her to slide backward continuously. Her arms went numb, the skin between her thumbs and index fingers split open, and her blood soaked the hilt.
Even after deflecting the lightning dragon's tail, she could no longer hold on. The blade buzzed, several cracks appearing along its surface. The impact sent her flying, and gravity slammed her hard onto the ground. The backlash from her life-bound sword and the impact left her completely incapacitated. She could clearly hear the snapping of her bones, the broken shards piercing into her flesh. It was an agonizing, bone-deep pain.
She could not get up.
The tribulation clouds were completely enraged. The pitch-black clouds swirled into a vortex, and a massive golden hand descended from the sky, reaching down to grab her.
The ninth strike.
The chains were still wrapped around her wrists. She did not even have the strength to raise her hand to block it.
Jiang Ci stared at the hand and closed her eyes.
They said that before a person died, they would recall everything they had done in their life. Jiang Ci felt there was nothing in her life worth remembering. The good, the bad, the warm, the cold—none of it mattered anymore. She only hoped that in her next life, she would not have to practice cultivation.
In the distance, Bai Cen watched the massive golden hand crash down heavily upon Jiang Ci, who had given up all resistance. He could no longer control the wild ecstasy in his heart, a brilliant smile spreading across his face. Before the residual power could even dissipate, he began walking toward the center of the tribulation grounds.
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