Muttering about how ridiculous this level of luck was—something beyond even "plot armor"—Aedric flicked his wrist, releasing a sharp arc of sword energy that sliced through the ropes binding Gai Nie's hands. Then, with a light kick, he sent the Yuanhong Sword sliding toward its rightful owner.
Catching his beloved weapon, Gai Nie nodded in silent thanks before spinning his sword to cut the bindings on the three young captives. In a blur of movement, the four of them leapt skyward, charging toward the summit where Wei Zhuang stood.
Blades flashed, sword-qi roared, and for a moment the entire sky seemed to tremble. The intensity of their duel was enough to rival Aedric's final battle with the Night King.
"Holy hell," Aedric muttered under his breath, watching the clash like a captivated spectator. "The power levels in this world are absurd. There must be at least ten people on Night King level!"
He was enjoying the show when a squad of Qin soldiers burst in from a nearby passage.
Behind them came a bald, mechanical old man covered in gears and iron plates, followed by a tall woman in red robes with a chilling, regal air. The old man smirked lecherously at the young Miao girl among the trio.
"Ah, Gao Yue," he drawled, "thank you so much. Without your guidance, we would never have found Loulan."
Aedric's eyes lit up. "Mechanisms and cybernetics… the pinnacle of this world's tech! I have to study that!"
His hungry gaze lingered on the old man's mechanical body for a bit too long. Feeling suddenly uneasy, the man—Gongshu Chou, master of mechanical arts—frowned and turned to the red-robed woman beside him.
"Kill that kid," he snapped. "His stare is making me very uncomfortable."
The woman—Da Siming, the High Priestess of the Yin-Yang Clan—nodded silently. With a flick of her sleeve, she unleashed a crimson palm strike that tore through the air toward Aedric.
"Oh? Interesting. Let's see what you've got."
Aedric didn't even bother drawing his sword. He met her attack head-on, palm to palm.
A dragon's roar echoed through the chamber as his strike obliterated her crimson energy print, replacing it with a majestic, roaring dragon of pure inner force. The dragon surged forward, crashing toward both Da Siming and Gongshu Chou.
"Careful—he's no ordinary fighter!" Da Siming shouted, thrusting Gongshu Chou aside. She clapped her hands together, summoning a massive blood-red skull-shaped seal to meet the incoming dragon.
The two forces collided with a deafening boom. Da Siming was driven back two steps, while Aedric stood completely unmoved, calm as still water. Her brows furrowed, and she snapped, "Lesser Priestess!"
As expected, her partner Shao Siming—the Lesser Priestess—appeared instantly, conjuring a whirlwind of razor-sharp leaves that sliced toward Aedric like a storm of blades. Simultaneously, Da Siming's figure blurred as she struck from behind, her blood-red palms aimed squarely at Aedric's vital points.
Their teamwork was flawless—clearly the product of years of joint combat.
Aedric only smiled faintly. He drew the True Martial Sword, its icy aura flaring.
With a sweep, countless arcs of sword-light spiraled around him, forming the flowing patterns of the Taiji Sword Style.
The Yin and Yang energies flowed like an endless river, deflecting the storm of blades and forcing both women onto the defensive.
"Damn it! Who is this man?" Da Siming hissed through gritted teeth. "And what is that sword? It's not the Mo family's Water Cold!"
While Aedric single-handedly fended off the Yin-Yang Clan's twin masters—and even pressed the advantage—Gongshu Chou, unnerved, decided to retreat. "Enough. Take the High Priestess away!" he barked, signaling his soldiers to grab the collapsed Loulan priestess. As for the three children, he didn't care anymore.
Just then, a small golden creature plummeted from above, glowing like a shooting star.
The three young ones gasped in unison. "It's Little Jiu-Jiu!"
Aedric's eyes flashed with recognition. The dragonling Pixiu… containing the Dragon Soul itself.
In an instant, his sword technique shifted. Abandoning defense, he transitioned from the fluid Taiji style to the devastating Nine Swords of Dugu, sending a flurry of lethal thrusts at the twin priestesses. The air screamed under the pressure of his strikes, forcing both women to retreat in shock.
Before Gongshu Chou could even reach the falling Pixiu, Aedric leapt up and snatched it from midair—then kicked the old pervert square in the chest, sending him tumbling off the statue's palm.
Strangely enough, the Pixiu didn't struggle. Whether because of Aedric's dragon blood or its own divine intuition, the little beast calmly nestled in his palm, docile as a cat.
"Huh… guess Eastern and Western dragons really are related."
He looked up at the two priestesses, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "So—are you going to save him, or are you planning to fight me for this?"
He set the Pixiu gently on his shoulder, then swept his sword in a deadly arc, cutting down several Qin soldiers who tried to block his way.
"Let's go!" he called to the three kids, leading them in a lightning-fast charge through the chaos.
As for the captured High Priestess of Loulan…
Aedric thought wryly, I'd love to get my hands on that Chiyou Sword myself. Guess I'll let her go open the door for us first.
Watching the four figures vanish into the distance, Da Siming and Shao Siming exchanged helpless looks. With clear frustration, they turned back to haul Gongshu Chou up from where he'd fallen.
After all, the Bingmashen —the War God Mecha—was an ancient weapon of the gods. Only Gongshu Chou, master of mechanisms, could activate it.
For Aedric, cutting through ordinary Qin soldiers was child's play. With the True Martial Sword in hand, his strikes were unstoppable. Within moments, he and the children had broken through the encirclement and reached a secluded spot. He handed the Pixiu to Gao Yue.
"Keep it hidden. I'll go check on Gai Nie."
After making sure they understood, and giving the little dragon a fond glance—it seemed oddly attached to him—Aedric turned and raced toward the upper chambers, where the legendary Chiyou Sword awaited.
As for the kids? Please. They were the definition of "plot armor incarnate." No one could kill them at this point.
When Aedric reached the base of the goddess statue, he found Gai Nie there, lightly injured but still moving. The swordsman was preparing to climb.
After quickly updating him on the children's safety, the two men ascended together.
Midway up, a shadow fell—a body tumbling from above. Gai Nie caught it in a single motion.
It was the Loulan High Priestess.
Realizing this meant the Chiyou Sword had already emerged, Aedric didn't pause. He surged upward, bursting into the treasure chamber at the summit.
There, the warriors of both Flowing Sands and the Yin-Yang Clan stood guard outside.
The moment Aedric appeared, they turned as one and charged.
"Annoying pests." Aedric's eyes narrowed. He wasn't here for them—only for the Chiyou Sword.
With a flick of his wrist, he pulled a Zhuge Divine Crossbow from his spatial space and fired.
The storm of bolts screamed through the air like thunder. Even the elite warriors instinctively dove aside, sensing imminent danger.
The unfortunate Qin soldiers behind them weren't so lucky. Sixteen bolts punched clean through armor and flesh, dropping them in a bloody heap.
Seeing this, even the Yin-Yang and Flowing Sands elites froze, eyes wide with awe. Whatever weapon that stranger held, it was no ordinary artifact—it was a divine-grade mechanism.
"Hmph." Aedric snorted, dismissing the crossbow back into storage.
Without another glance at the shaken warriors, he strode straight past them—toward the one he really wanted to meet: Wei Zhuang, and the Chiyou Sword.
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