Wandering Swordsman |

Oda finally turned around slowly, his gaze sharp as a knife, sweeping over the two of them. His expression was cold and stern, yet he couldn't hide the faint unease in his eyes.

Oda's words pierced the hearts of every evil cultivator like cold arrows. "I'm not worried that he can't defeat the people of the Central Plains," he said slowly. "What I'm worried about is... that he might never have a chance to come back."

Upon hearing this, the atmosphere in the dilapidated temple instantly froze, as if ice had sealed everyone's souls. The mocking smile on the Immortal Child's face vanished instantly, replaced by an undisguised terror; the Three-Handed Sword Demon's right eye narrowed slightly, a cold light flashing in his pupil.

"You mean..." the Immortal Child asked in a low voice, his voice trembling, as if even he himself did not want to believe the possibility.

Oda didn't answer, but instead looked out the window at the deep night. In the distance, dark clouds slowly gathered, gradually obscuring the moonlight, as if some kind of storm was brewing.

At this moment, the atmosphere in the dilapidated temple was extremely eerie. If Oda's words came true, it would mean that there were still unknown masters in the Central Plains martial arts world, and the overseas evil cultivators' next move would be fraught with danger.

......

The next morning, before dawn, a gray-white morning mist, like a damp, cold shroud, clung to the dilapidated outline of Dali City.

Oda stood atop the ruins of the dilapidated temple, his black robe fluttering in the cold wind, his gaze sweeping across the path leading to Osato Castle like that of a hawk. Yet, the path remained deserted.

"The Soul-Severing Blade..." he murmured, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt of the short sword at his waist. For the first time, a barely perceptible hint of anxiety crept into his voice. "Where on earth did you go?"

The ageless child emerged from the shadows, his white hair fluttering in the mist. His childlike face showed no signs of sleepiness, only a stagnant, chilling coldness: "Lord Oda, could it be... that he really is as you say..."

"Shut up," Oda interrupted coldly, a glint of cold light flashing in his eyes.

Without another word, he turned and ordered, "Change your clothes and go into the city to find him."

Before long, the three of them, disguised, mingled among the crowds at the morning market in Dali City.

Oda was dressed in a coarse cloth short brown robe and wore a straw hat pulled down very low, revealing only his cold and hard jawline.

The Immortal Child disguises himself as a medicine seller, carrying a medicine box on his back, with his white hair tied up with a black cloth, and his short stature makes him move through the crowd like a ghost.

The Three-Handed Sword Demon's left sleeve was empty, his right arm hidden within the wide sleeve. He held an ebony cane in his hand, his face was painted with sickly greasepaint, but his eyes darted around like a venomous snake.

They quietly circled around to the south of the city. This was the site of the fire that "Soul-Severing Blade Demon" had personally set on fire the night before. Now, charred wood lay scattered, and thick smoke and the stench of death permeated the ruins. The surviving civilians kept their distance, only daring to cast fearful glances from afar.

Oda stopped before a section of house foundations that hadn't been completely burned down, surrounded by charred beams and broken tiles. He slowly crouched down, his fingertips brushing against a piece of bluestone blackened by smoke. The Immortal Child and the Three-Handed Sword Demon immediately became alert, one old and one young, one crippled and one whole, like two stone statues guarding an evil god.

Oda closed his eyes, silently chanting an obscure internal energy cultivation technique. His hands slowly formed a strange hand seal in front of him—the seal twisted like a snake, with a faint, dark red glow emanating from his fingertips. As the incantation was chanted, a cold, viscous aura emanated from his palms, like invisible tentacles, slowly probing into every inch of this ruined land.

This is a secret technique unique to overseas heretical cultivators—"Blood Tracing the Source." This technique uses one's own essence and blood as a guide to sense the traces of aura left by a heretical cultivator of the same origin within three days, like a hunting dog following the scent of blood to track its prey.

In an instant, Oda's perceived world was stained a dark red. He "saw" the aura of the Soul-Severing Blade, like a scarlet thread, swirling and leaping across the ruins, leaving a clear trail...

Three breaths later, "Found it." Oda suddenly opened his eyes, a blood-red afterglow lingering deep in his pupils. A strange light flashed in his eyes, the excitement of a hunter finally catching the scent of his prey, yet mixed with a trace of unease that even he himself did not notice.

"Go!" he shouted in a low voice, and took the lead in running towards the outside of Dali City.

The three emerged from the ruins, crossed the overgrown official road, and entered a desolate countryside. Here, jagged rocks littered the landscape, and withered trees stretched like ghostly claws towards the gray sky. When the wind blew, it swirled up dust and fallen leaves, making a mournful sound.

Oda used "Bloodline Tracing" again. This time, he "saw" the scarlet thread suddenly accelerate and entangle fiercely, as if it had experienced a brief but violent confrontation. Then, next to a huge, cracked blue stone, the thread... came to an abrupt end!

It was as if it had been completely severed from the root by an invisible sharp blade!

"The aura... has vanished?" The Immortal Child murmured in disbelief, leaning closer to the boulder, his small face contorted beneath his white hair. "How is this possible? Even if someone is dead, there should still be some aura left..."

"The martial arts used by the opponent can even erase the aura of the Soul-Severing Blade!" The Three-Handed Sword Demon continued, his voice dry, his right eye fixed on the shattered boulder. He approached with his cane, gently brushing aside the stone chips with the tip of the cane to reveal fresh, spiderweb-like cracks underneath.

"This stone... shattered from within. The purity and domineering power it possesses far surpasses the reckless, charging style of the Soul-Severing Blade!"

Oda remained silent. He slowly walked to the boulder, his fingertips tracing the cold, newly cracked surface. He could almost feel the final burst of the Soul-Severing Blade's aura here, carrying the violent black energy of the "Blood Fiend Soul-Burning Technique"—clearly a desperate act. Yet, Oda couldn't sense any trace of the Soul-Severing Blade's presence; it was as if the Soul-Severing Blade had vanished into thin air!

"It's not an attack, not a trap..." Oda's voice was as deep as if it came from the ground. He slowly straightened up and looked at the void that had swallowed the aura of the Soul-Severing Blade. For the first time, he felt a chill run down his spine to the back of his head. "It's one-on-one... and it's very likely that I was... crushed."

Both the Immortal Child and the Three-Handed Sword Demon shivered simultaneously.

Overwhelming? Among the dozen or so people, Duanhun Daosha's martial arts skills were considered above average. According to the intelligence provided by the Black Wind Gang, Duanhun Daosha was already a top expert capable of dominating the Central Plains!

"Impossible..." the Three-Handed Sword Demon muttered. "We've already investigated all the renowned experts of the Nine Sects and the entire gang. There's no way anyone could render the Soul-Severing Blade Fiend powerless!"

Oda did not respond, but slowly removed his straw hat, revealing a cold and pale face. He gazed in the direction of Dali City, as if piercing through space to look at the unknown enemy. The wind rustled his black robe, but could not dispel the unprecedented fear in his heart.