"Did you not hear me before? Move out of the way!"
'What now?' he inwardly sighed, his gaze flicking back toward the group of Flame Sovereign Sect disciples.
They had halted their uninterrupted march, the crowd around them parting like waves before an unrelenting tide. The reason for their stop? A lone figure stood in their path, unmoved by their presence, unlike the others who had hurriedly stepped aside.
The man stood alone, facing the Flame Sovereign Sect disciples without the slightest trace of concern. Tall and imposing, he radiated an air of quiet indifference. His long black hair cascaded down his back, catching the light like strands of moonlight. His sword-like eyebrows, which had previously been lowered as he toyed absentmindedly with a jade object in his hands, were now focused entirely on the crimson-robed disciples—particularly the burly man who had just shouted at him.
A sword rested at his waist, still sheathed in its scabbard. His hand hovered near the hilt, fingers relaxed yet poised, as if the blade was but a breath away from being drawn.
The sword cultivator—because there was no mistaking what he was—scanned the Flame Sovereign Sect disciples, his gaze carrying a mixture of irritation and disdain. Then, in an arrogant yet unwavering tone, he declared, "No, I won't move. Scram before I make you." His voice rang loud and clear, cutting through the tense air like a blade.
A hushed silence fell over the onlookers before murmurs broke out.
"Hiss! This guy must be insane!" a shocked cultivator whispered.
"He looks confident, but… there's an inner disciple of the Flame Sovereign Sect standing against him," another hesitated, uncertainty in his tone as he spoke in english.
"If he doesn't back down, he's finished. The Flame Sovereign Sect isn't exactly known for their patience," an excited voice added, eyes alight with anticipation.
The crowd was abuzz, their reactions mixed, but all remained fixated on the brewing confrontation, knowing that a spectacle was about to unfold.
The inner disciple—distinguished by the black and gold embroidery adorning his crimson robes—let out a soft chuckle. It was an amused sound, yet beneath the surface, a thin veneer of condescension could be heard.
"Interesting," he mused, stepping forward. His gaze lazily flicked over the swordsman before shifting toward the burly disciple. "Why waste your breath, Bao? If he insists on standing in the way, just break him apart and be done with it."
Bao, the burly disciple, grinned menacingly. "With pleasure, Senior Brother Lin!"
Stepping forward, he allowed his aura to flare aggressively, the temperature around him rising as a faint shimmer of heat distorted the air. Flames licked at his fingertips, a clear sign of his fire-attribute cultivation technique.
"Since you're too stubborn to move," Bao sneered, cracking his knuckles, "I'll make sure you never stand in the way of the Flame Sovereign Sect again."
Then, without further warning, he lunged.
His speed was immense, surpassing the sound barrier—yet strangely, there was no sonic boom. A bizarre inconsistency. Mikael, observing from the sidelines, couldn't help but note the peculiarity. Either the laws of physics in the Akashic Records Universe were different from what he was accustomed to, or Qi—assuming that was what these cultivators were using—was even more reality-defying than mana.
Mana, as Mikael knew it, could accomplish extraordinary feats, bending reality to summon flames from nothing or manipulate the elements. But it was still subject to physical laws. An object moving at supersonic speed should have created a deafening shockwave—yet here, there was none.
Still, he continued to watch.
Bao thrust his palm toward the swordsman's chest, flames licking his fingers.
The crowd braced for impact.
And yet—
Shing!
A cold flash.
A single, fluid motion.
The next instant, the burly disciple had frozen mid-strike. His outstretched palm hovered mere inches from the swordsman's chest, yet his entire body had gone rigid. A faint chill spread through the air, a stark contrast to the lingering heat of his attack.
It took the spectators a moment to process what had happened.
The swordsman's hand had moved—but only slightly. His fingers now rested against the hilt of his sword, which 'remained' sheathed in its scabbard.
And yet…
A thin, crimson line had appeared on Bao's body, running vertically from head to toe. A heartbeat later, that 'line' widened—his body splitting cleanly into two halves. With a sickening squelch, flesh, blood, and organs spilled onto the ground, splattering across the surroundings. But before a single drop could reach the swordsman, it was halted by a thin film of qi enveloping him.
The swordsman's expression remained impassive as he eyed the inner disciple of the Flame Sovereign Sect, now nothing more than a mutilated corpse. His pristine white robes stood in stark contrast to the blood and carnage surrounding him—untouched, unsullied.
"He killed him!?"
Disbelief and shock rippled through the crowd. None could fathom that someone had dared to kill a Flame Sovereign Sect disciple—right here, in broad daylight, before an entire audience!
"Who is he?"
"I think I recognize him. That's Jiang Xuan—a lone cultivator, highly skilled with the sword. He gained fame after winning a tournament in a neighboring city." declared in english somebody dressed in modern clothes.
"A mere lone cultivator!? Then he's as good as dead! The Flame Sovereign Sect will never let this slide!" a woman exclaimed, her voice filled with incredulity.
"You dare to kill one of my junior brothers!?" A furious roar echoed through the room.
Senior Brother Lin, who had been lounging with an air of nonchalance, now radiated anger. The death of his subordinate wasn't just an affront—it was a direct slap to his face.
Yet Jiang Xuan paid him no mind. Instead, he spoke calmly, his tone chilling. "Scram, or you'll follow in his footsteps."
Senior Brother Lin momentarily hesitated, torn between the invisible pressure that Jiang Xuan was releasing and the undeniable pressure of the many gazes fixated on him. He couldn't simply back down—not after such a humiliation. Doing so would be an even greater disgrace.
"Good, good... Let's see how you fare against someone who isn't a weakling," he sneered, his earlier nonchalance giving way to seething anger. With that, he drew the sword at his waist.
Without another word, he attacked. His blade arced upward in a powerful slash, but the distance between them was still too great for his sword to reach. It shouldn't have been possible for the attack to land—until flames surged along the blade's edge, forming a blazing crescent of fire that hurtled toward Jiang Xuan.
The swordsman remained unfazed. Even as the heat distorted the air around it, he countered with a mirrored upward slash of his own. But unlike his opponent's, his attack carried the fluidity of water. A crescent of shimmering blue shot forward, cutting through the air toward the incoming flames.
The crowd braced for impact, expecting a violent clash of elements.
But that wasn't what happened.
The two crescents met midair, yet instead of a prolonged struggle, the water blade overwhelmed the flames in an instant. It sliced through effortlessly, its trajectory unbroken as it continued its deadly path toward Senior Brother Lin.
"Impossible—!"
His cry of disbelief was cut short as the water crescent struck. He instinctively tried to retreat, but it was too late. The blade of water tore into his chest, its sharpness undeniable as it cleaved through flesh and bone alike.
He was nearly bisected. Only his undoubtedly higher cultivation compared to Bao had saved him from instant death. Even so, a deep, gaping wound marred his torso, blood gushing from the grievous injury.
The sheer force of the attack sent him flying. He tumbled across the ground, rolling several times before finally skidding to a stop at the feet of his fellow Flame Sovereign Sect disciples.
They stood frozen in horror. Just moments ago, they had exuded arrogance—now, fear had replaced it entirely.
But none were more horrified than Senior Brother Lin himself. The searing pain in his chest was nothing compared to the realization of just how close he had come to being cut in two. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the agony and looked up at Jiang Xuan, who was now slowly advancing toward him.
His voice came out loud yet unsteady, laced with fear. "D-Don't come any closer! You can't kill me—my father is an elder of the Flame Sovereign Sect! If you kill me, he will hunt you down!"
Desperation flickered in his eyes, but as he spoke, it seemed to rekindle his confidence. He straightened slightly, forcing authority back into his tone.
"But if you let me go today, we can let bygones be bygones—"
His sentence was cut short. Jiang Xuan's sword flashed, and in the next instant, his head was severed from his body.
A chilling silence fell over the area as Jiang Xuan's cold gaze swept over the remaining Flame Sovereign Sect disciples. Trembling under his scrutiny, they could barely keep their footing.
"Do you also want to make me 'move away'?" he asked, his voice calm yet laced with unmistakable menace.
"N-no! W-we wouldn't dare!" the disciples stammered in unison, their arrogance from before nowhere to be found.
Jiang Xuan seemed about to speak again but suddenly paused, glancing at the ring on his finger. The next moment, the 'jade object' he had been observing before the Flame Sovereign Sect disciples confronted him reappeared in his hand, materializing just as it had disappeared earlier.
Studying it for a brief moment, a small smile formed on his lips. "Finally arrived, huh," he murmured to himself. Then, without another glance at the terrified disciples, he turned on his heel and walked away, much to their immense relief.
The crowd instinctively parted to make way for him. His earlier display had been far too overwhelming, and after witnessing him mercilessly kill even an inner disciple of the Flame Sovereign Sect, no one dared test his patience. Who was to say he wouldn't kill them if they stood in his way for even a second too long?
And so, Jiang Xuan passed beneath the west archway, leaving behind a macabre scene.
Watching him go, Mikael shook his head. 'That wasn't a smart move. Really not a smart move.'
As thoughts swirled in his mind, he turned toward the east archway, not wanting to linger at the 'crime scene' any longer. Around him, hushed conversations erupted as the crowd processed what had just happened, but he ignored them entirely.
'For real, what this Jiang Xuan did was incredibly reckless. He just provoked the Flame Sovereign Sect with that stunt. I don't know exactly how strong they are, but judging from everyone's reactions, they seem like a powerful sect with bad tempers.'
'Killing what I assume was an outer disciple and then an inner disciple of their sect, in front of a whole crowd? There's no way they'll let this slide. In a cultivation world, where "face" is everything, they'll retaliate even harder just to maintain their reputation. That's how this bullshit works.'
'So yeah, what he did really wasn't a good move. Especially if what that guy said was true—if Jiang Xuan is just a lone cultivator, then he just offended a major sect for what? Pride? He gained a brief moment of satisfaction, a fleeting sense of superiority… and in return, he's now being hunted by a powerful sect. Sounds like a fair trade to me,' he thought sarcastically.
'But putting aside the whole "gain versus loss" situation, this guy really reminds me of those Chinese novel protagonists. The lone cultivator who boldly offends a powerful sect in some grand display of dominance and "righteousness"—it's almost textbook. But unlike a novel, reality won't conveniently bend in his favor. The odds of him actually winning and wiping out the sect? Pretty damn low…'
'Still, it'd be something if he actually managed to destroy the Flame Sovereign Sect. If that happened, I might even start considering him some kind of "protagonist."' he thought, a small smile plaguing his lips.
Author Note:
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