Yu Zaixi did not linger outside the training grounds; he returned as soon as Ruan Chi went over to practice. The sun was scorching, and he had no desire to stand around outside.
He originally intended to go back to sleep, but upon returning to his room, he realized he had not eaten for a long time. He tried to recall his last meal—it seemed to have been the day before yesterday at the Zheng residence. He had ignored the meal the young disciple had brought the previous night. Although he was a cultivator who had reached the stage of abstaining from grains and did not need to eat, he still missed the sensation of a meal. Yu Zaixi stepped outside, called for a disciple, and asked them to arrange something for him.
He even kindly asked if it would be a bother. The disciple assured him that the Sect Leader had ordered the entire sect to take meticulous care of their three distinguished guests. Only then did Yu Zaixi feel comfortable letting the disciple go.
There was not a sound from the room next door. Jiang Yan had likely used a sound-sealing spell, and he did not know what the man was doing in there. Yu Zaixi had no idea why Jiang Yan and Tianxing had come here; as long as they did not leave, he would just stay put. Being here was no different from being anywhere else.
After eating, Yu Zaixi lay on the bed, satisfied and ready for sleep. The bed was not particularly comfortable, but it would do. He closed his eyes and began to lull himself to sleep. There was nothing he could not endure; he had even slept in places where he would fall off a tree if he merely turned over.
Before he knew it, he had lulled himself back into an illusion.
It was always like this. Yu Zaixi would fall into an illusion whenever he let his guard down. He had struggled against it in the past, but since all efforts to stop it were futile and he would wake up on his own after a while, he had simply stopped caring. Fine, let it be an illusion. He would just enter and see which memory it was this time.
This illusion, however, was not the usual peaceful scene of sipping tea or resting. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw a demon lunging toward him. Yu Zaixi instinctively stepped back and reached out, but his blade, Unopened, was not in his palm. His heart tightened, and he dodged to the side.
His movements were fast, but the demon’s were faster. They brushed past each other by half a meter. In that split second, Yu Zaixi realized the opponent had no weapon. He thrust a palm toward the demon’s hazy, phantom-like head.
This strike was infused with spiritual energy and was immensely powerful; logically, the demon should have been sent flying dozens of meters or crushed into dust. Yet, his palm passed straight through the demon’s head, and the part of his arm that remained within the demon’s body felt a searing, intense pain. He quickly pulled his hand back and looked down to see his skin and flesh burned bright red.
This should not have happened in an illusion. Yu Zaixi could control this body with ease, which proved that he himself had entered the illusion rather than viewing through someone else’s eyes. If he were truly the one in the illusion, he should not have been affected by the demons within it.
Yu Zaixi suddenly remembered what Xiao Ci had said: someone had asked him to find Yuan Qi. In this world, aside from Jiang Yan, there was also a Demon Lord, someone who had once made a deal with Yuan Qi, who was keeping an eye on him.
That Demon Lord had not appeared since Yu Zaixi arrived, and Yu Zaixi had been hiding in the lower realms, so he had not given it much thought. Now, seeing this demon in the illusion, he was forced to be on guard. He had never encountered such a situation before, and the moment he returned to the mountain, he ran straight into it.
This was no simple demon, either. Various chaotic thoughts flashed through his mind as Yu Zaixi retreated a few steps to observe it carefully. The demon resembled a human; it had a head, a torso, and limbs. The higher their intelligence, the more complete the imitation, but they were pitch black, always enveloped in a dark mist, and the head was completely atomized, like a cloud of flying dust.
This demon before him had perfect limbs and only a thin veil of black mist, a sign of extremely high intelligence, yet it lacked a weapon.
As he pondered, the creature lunged again with its claws. Yu Zaixi, still unable to summon his blade, could only dismantle the attacks with his bare hands. The creature had no technique; its lunges were filled with murderous intent. Yu Zaixi was nearly grabbed at a vital point several times, surviving only by his unconventional, unpredictable dodges. Gradually, he realized something was wrong. “Are you being controlled?”
The demon could not answer. Yu Zaixi retreated several meters to put some distance between them, formed a seal with his hands, and whispered, “Wuxiang.”
Unopened was Yuan Qi’s sword, which he used comfortably in this body, while Wuxiang was the sword Yu Zaixi had forged himself, which he only summoned when he could not use Unopened. Wuxiang was true to its name; it was white and glassy like glazed porcelain, but it had no physical form; it was gaseous, possessing only a sword soul bound to Yu Zaixi’s consciousness. It belonged solely to his soul.
For a sword cultivator to be without a sword was terrifying. With Wuxiang held in his grasp, Yu Zaixi felt slightly more confident. His gaze swept around the demon. It was pitch black, the middle of the night, and he could see nothing. He had never told anyone, but ever since he escaped the Buzhu Prison, he had been unable to see clearly in extreme darkness or extreme brightness; he was only adapted to dim environments. Now, in the total darkness, he could only see the black mist rising from the demon, which was slightly brighter than the night itself.
Fighting like this was meaningless, and the fight itself was inexplicable. Even if he managed to kill this demon here, Yu Zaixi would wake up with severe injuries in reality. He would not die, and he would eventually recover, but the purpose of the person controlling the demon was not to kill him; they were likely after something else.
Yu Zaixi split off a portion of his spiritual energy to probe his interspatial space, confirming the bone whistle was still there. He squinted at the demon and tilted his head. “Neither of us can kill the other. Let us fight outside.”
Outside was Jiang Yan, who could kill this wretched thing with a flick of his wrist. The controller of the demon clearly knew this and did not want to leave; there was no movement for a long time.
“Then let us fight!” Yu Zaixi scoffed, his lips curling. He pushed off the ground, vaulting several meters to stand right before the demon. He thrust the Wuxiang sword toward the creature’s face. The sword wind was cold and fierce, wrapped in frost, and countless fragments of white light tore through the dark night, all surging toward the demon.
The demon let out a low roar, its gravelly, dry voice sending out ripples like waves. The moment they touched the frost, a piercing screech echoed. Yu Zaixi felt his ears buzz, and he instantly lost his hearing.
He sensed something was wrong the moment he heard the screech and used his fastest speed to release spiritual energy and form a defensive array. The array blocked the subsequent sound waves, but the initial burst could not be stopped. It echoed infinitely in his ears. Yu Zaixi gripped his sword hilt so hard his knuckles turned white. He continued to lunge with killing intent, but his mind began to cloud.
It was an illusion technique.
He had been careless. He had not expected this demon to be controlled into using illusion techniques.
The Wuxiang sword did not touch the demon. As Yu Zaixi leaned on his sword to regain his senses, the demon swept its palm across. He was too weak to counter it; he barely managed to block with his sword before being sent flying over ten meters, collapsing to his knees. The buzzing in his ears would not stop, and the world before him grew so blurred that he could not even see the demon anymore.
He had no idea what the result of falling for an illusion within an illusion would be. He had never experienced this. He might be lost in this illusion forever, or he might die here immediately. Whether he could make it out alive was questionable. Who was the one trying to deal with him? Why would they not show their face, and why choose this specific moment?
These thoughts flashed by like lightning. Yu Zaixi took a deep breath and tried to stand again. He saw a figure approaching and narrowed his eyes in defense, unable to distinguish if it was reality, an illusion, or someone within the illusion. He could clearly feel his consciousness dissipating, his thoughts becoming slower, his mind gradually turning blank.
I cannot die in an illusion; that would be too humiliating. That was his last clear thought.
Yu Zaixi exerted force into his hand, using Wuxiang to support his weight as he stood, and then pointed his sword at the approaching figure. He had reached the point where he could no longer use proper sword techniques, but because Wuxiang was linked to his soul, it would protect itself in a life-or-death moment. Everything depended on the strength of the newcomer.
Just as Yu Zaixi was about to close his eyes, he looked down and saw a flash of moonlight on the ground, a surge of green sword intent, crushing and overwhelming, descended upon him. Wuxiang was forced to emit a helpless whine. His heart tightened, and a metallic taste surged into his throat. Staring at the green light of the peerless sword, he gasped in shock, “Jiang Yan, are you trying to kill me?”