Qinghe, you've done very well.

Qinghe gripped Qu Jiao, with ten thousand blades manifesting behind him.

"Where did this turtle-shit bastard crawl from? Skinned, you’d look like a toad!" Qinghe snarled coldly. "Today, I’ll shatter that shell of yours!"

Xu Yuan didn’t turn around, but his divine sense had already captured the movements of the Nascent Soul flood dragon charging at him with a sword, as well as the ten thousand gleaming blades behind Qinghe flashing toward him.

It was as if the sky itself had been torn apart—in the span of a single breath, the sword light was upon him.

This technique alone made it clear: this flood dragon was no wild beast, but one raised by a great clan.

Otherwise, even as a flood dragon, it would never have cultivated sword arts of this caliber.

Xu Yuan hesitated for only a moment before tossing a defensive treasure behind him, propping up a barrier with his demonic energy, and ignoring Qinghe entirely.

The situation was too volatile—swift resolution was the best course.

Besides, prized demons from major sects always carried rare treasures.

Just the longsword in Qinghe’s hand was something Xu Yuan had never seen before.

By that logic, a Nascent Soul flood dragon like this should at least possess a treasure capable of withstanding attacks from a Deity Transformation expert.

Even if it didn’t, prudence demanded he assume it did.

Time was of the essence. Setting aside the treacherous brat who had ambushed him earlier, Xu Yuan couldn’t even be sure if some greater power was already rushing to Qinghe’s aid.

Though he was no longer a true Deity Transformation great demon, facing a mere early-stage Nascent Soul flood dragon, Xu Yuan still had some confidence.

But he had underestimated Qinghe going all out.

The treasure Xu Yuan threw out was an Eight Trigrams bronze mirror. The moment it left his hand, spiritual energy surged within it, and under his control, a thick barrier of trigram formations materialized before Qinghe.

The barrier’s energy stood like a fortress wall, its trigram constellations flickering like a portable ritual array.

Qinghe’s expression remained icy. Qu Jiao in his hand shimmered with light, but instead of slashing at the barrier, he unleashed the ten thousand swords behind him in a relentless barrage.

In the blink of an eye, a thousand blades were repelled by the trigram barrier—yet no matter how fiercely the swords struck, the barrier remained unshaken.

Xu Yuan exhaled in relief. Strictly speaking, this defensive treasure wasn’t anything extraordinary.

It could barely hold against a Nascent Soul cultivator’s attacks.

As a turtle demon, no man-made treasure could match the hardness of his own shell.

Moreover, most treasures were crafted by human cultivators, and as a demon, he’d never had much luck acquiring good ones.

This Eight Trigrams mirror was already a stroke of fortune.

Who’d have thought this flood dragon, for all its bluster, would have such mediocre techniques?

Qinghe sensed the moment was right. Closing in on the barrier, he uttered two frigid words:

"Convergence!"

Qu Jiao in his hand thrust forward, and the ten thousand scattered swords instantly gathered back into a single blade in his grip.

Light flashed, spiritual energy roiled.

For an instant, the world seemed to freeze—silence reigned.

Even with his divine sense still tracking the situation behind him, Xu Yuan couldn’t help but turn his head.

Because that—that was the aura of a divine ability!

The silver-white sword in Qinghe’s hand had turned translucent, countless streaks of white light swirling within. Ten thousand swords had merged into one.

Qinghe swung.

A white flash—heaven and earth became one.

Silence. Then, mountains and rivers shattered.

Even Xie Lingyu, who had already retreated a great distance with Li Xingtian, felt the aftershocks.

She turned toward the blinding radiance, where the light still blazed. She couldn’t see Qinghe’s expression, but she imagined it was as cold as ever.

"A divine ability...?" Xu Yuan was forced to halt, his ragged ancient sword barely holding back Qinghe’s translucent blade.

The Dragon-Slaying Sword in his hand exuded a bloody aura, clashing against the razor-sharp energy of Qinghe’s weapon.

Xu Yuan’s gaze bore into Qinghe. "I never thought humans would teach a demon divine abilities. Little flood dragon, you’d make a better lapdog than a dragon."

Qinghe didn’t respond. Instead, his sword shimmered again, and hundreds of blades shot out from Qu Jiao, rapidly forming a sword array around them.

In moments, the hundreds became thousands, their sword intent condensing into a lethal formation.

Xu Yuan assessed the array and realized that without dealing with this flood dragon first, all his plans would come to nothing.

"I’d have spared your life... but you threw it away!"

With a cold snort, Xu Yuan channeled his origin power into the Dragon-Slaying Sword. A bloody miasma erupted, and with a roar, he pressed down on Qinghe with overwhelming force.

His demonic energy exploded outward.

Qinghe felt his sword grow impossibly heavy. The bloody aura seeped into his meridians, disrupting his energy flow.

Worse—an instinctual terror surged from that ancient blade, as if he’d been marked by a natural predator.

Even as Qinghe fought the fear, the gap in cultivation was vast, compounded by an inexplicable sense of suppression.

A crimson light tore through the sky. The clash of energies split the heavens.

A moment later, Qinghe’s body was sent crashing into the riverbed.

Xu Yuan didn’t hesitate. He descended, the Dragon-Slaying Sword in hand—Qinghe’s greatest nemesis.

Qinghe gasped, his spine nearly shattered by the impact. He looked up as Xu Yuan bore down from above.

Qinghe—never one to lose face—roared in defiance.

"Eat shit, you worthless trash!" He wrenched every ounce of spiritual energy from his core and hurled Qu Jiao skyward.

The sword expanded into a colossal blade, hurtling toward Xu Yuan.

Xu Yuan, in turn, discarded the Dragon-Slaying Sword and charged at Qinghe.

From above—a crimson light, like a falling star, aimed to sunder the earth.

From below—a radiant white blade, vast as the heavens, seeking to pierce the sky.

They met.

The white blade shattered instantly.

The crimson light plunged downward.

Qinghe watched as the ancient sword hurtled toward his skull. With a final surge of strength, he raised a half-dragonized hand to block—

But the blade pierced through his palm without pause.

Gritting his teeth, Qinghe seized the sword and wrenched it sideways with a roar, diverting its path from his skull to his shoulder.

The Dragon-Slaying Sword pinned him to the riverbed, its destructive energy ravaging his body.

Now, his left hand and right shoulder were impaled, immobilizing him.

Xu Yuan, seeing Qinghe at his mercy, landed beside him and reached for the sword to deliver the final blow—

But before he could pull it free, an overwhelming, soul-locking pressure erupted behind him.

No time to dodge. He could only raise the Dragon-Slaying Sword to block.

BOOM!

Xu Yuan was sent flying a hundred zhang away.

At the same time, a giant Nascent Soul hand scooped Qinghe from the river’s depths.

Xie Lingyu watched from afar as the chibi-style Nascent Soul Dharma Form of Chu Xingchen stood tall, holding a flowing water sword in its right hand while its left palm gently shielded the slightly pale Qinghe.

Qinghe gazed at Chu Xingchen’s Nascent Soul Dharma Form, and the heavy weight in her heart finally eased. So this brat really could hold his own—it was that old bastard who had fled.

With a hint of grievance in her voice, Qinghe said:

“You heartless brat… Qinghe hurts all over… Go beat him up!”

Chu Xingchen nodded firmly and promised:

“Don’t worry, I will. Qinghe, you’ve done well. Get some rest, and when you wake up, I’ll treat you to a meal.”