Chapter 9: Two women confront each other

A thunderous crash echoed from outside the Dragon Palace, jolting Jiang Huai awake. He scrambled off the bed in a panic.

Ever since Qin Qingyue found a new place to settle the Dragon Palace, he’d finally had a room of his own.

It was spacious and luxuriously decorated; the Dragon Palace was filled with beauty and treasures, a vast space housing countless rare wonders.

Suddenly, more explosions and shrill cries came from outside. Jiang Huai’s heart sank—something was wrong. He didn’t even bother with his shoes, bolting out the door.

As a mortal, he had no idea what was happening beyond the Dragon Palace’s walls.

He dashed out, eyes wide, just in time to see Qin Qingyue in her true form, sprawled on the ground, roaring in agony.

A black dragon’s body was pinned by three swords—one through her neck, one in her back, and one at the tail—each glowing with a dull yellow light.

The three swords were like three Prison Dragon Nails, pinning Qin Qingyue to the earth, trapping her completely, leaving her helpless at their mercy.

“Qin Qingyue, you…” Jiang Huai couldn’t help but call out.

In a scene like this, what could he possibly do to help?

The elderly monk at the lead smiled contentedly, forming seals with his hands.

“The Spirit Treasure Sect Master gave us really is something. Just three swords, and the Demon Dragon is subdued.”

Before leaving, Wu Zhaohua had been uneasy. She knew how powerful Qin Qingyue was, so she entrusted the three swords to this group, splitting up to search for Jiang Huai.

Clearly, they’d found the Dragon Palace first and had already sent word to Wu Zhaohua.

“Demon Dragon! This time, you’ll pay with your life!” The old crone at the front waved her long sword, her voice trembling with excitement.

Killing Qin Qingyue wasn’t just about revenge.

The Dragon Palace behind her was rumored to hold countless treasures and cultivation techniques. Even the palace itself, as a spatial treasure, was a top-tier Innate Spiritual Treasure.

Not to mention Wu Zhaohua’s promise of a hefty reward—the spoils this time were immense.

“Everyone, together! Slay the Demon Dragon!” The old crone’s eyes flashed, her voice shaking the air.

The others were about to move when the monk quickly called out,

“Wait! This Demon Dragon is cunning—these three swords may not be enough to hold her.”

“I’ve already notified Sect Master Wu. She’s on her way. We’ll strike together when she arrives.”

Against someone as formidable as Qin Qingyue, caution was best. Otherwise, none of them would have dared approach.

Qin Qingyue’s cries continued, hoarse and agonized, as if suffering a torment no dragon should endure. Just hearing it made one’s heart ache.

She suddenly twisted her head, her slit pupils glaring at Jiang Huai. Her voice was filled with pain.

“Aren’t you going to come pull these swords out for me?”

“If you do, I’ll kill them all!”

Her words drew every gaze to Jiang Huai, standing at the Dragon Palace gate.

“You mustn’t, young man! That dragon is a monster, her hands stained with countless lives.”

“These swords aren’t ordinary—how could you pull them out?” The old crone quickly waved her hands, trying to stop him.

“Benefactor, you mustn’t! Sect Master Wu is looking for you. Don’t do anything foolish!” The old monk pleaded as well.

They didn’t know what Jiang Huai’s relationship with Sect Master Wu was, but it was clear he was important to her. Any harm to him was unthinkable.

If something really happened to Jiang Huai, who could say what Wu Zhaohua would do in her fury?

After all, was there truly any good or evil in this world? If Wu Zhaohua was angered, who would stand up for them if she killed everyone?

Jiang Huai hesitated only a moment. As he stepped out of the Dragon Palace, he asked Qin Qingyue,

“Can I really pull them out?”

If a mere mortal like him could remove the swords, then he would do it, to save Qin Qingyue.

Whether Qin Qingyue was truly evil, he couldn’t judge just from these people’s words.

Besides, she had saved him from the beasts—he owed her something.

Qin Qingyue was stunned by his step forward, as if she hadn’t expected Jiang Huai to actually come out and approach her.

Leaving the palace meant those people above could kill him with a flick of the wrist, leaving no trace behind.

Even so, he still wanted to repay her?

How could anyone be so foolish?

For the first time, a flicker of hesitation appeared in Qin Qingyue’s usually cold eyes. She spoke,

“You can pull them out, but you might die. Your hands might be ruined forever.”

“Will you still come?” she asked tentatively, her tone uncharacteristically cautious.

Jiang Huai’s spirit surged. Barefoot, in fluttering white sleepwear, he strode forward without fear.

“In that case, let me help you break free.”

“Wait for me!”

If he could help, he would not spare himself.

Ignoring the urgent pleas from above and Qin Qingyue’s calm gaze, Jiang Huai walked to her tail, rubbed his hands together, and grabbed the sword hilt.

A harsh “chii—” sounded as his flesh sizzled! White smoke curled up, and the stench of burning flesh filled the air.

Hot. How could it be so hot?

His hands crackled, as if they were about to be roasted black.

The hilt felt like molten lava, pain stabbing through his finger bones and wrists like a billion red-hot needles.

Jiang Huai’s vision darkened, teeth grinding together.

Was it just his imagination, or did the hilt shift ever so slightly in the agony? No, perhaps it was a hallucination.

Sweat and tears blurred his sight. Only one thought remained—pull it out!

“That’s enough. Let go.”

Qin Qingyue’s voice was still low, but now carried a hint of urgency even she didn’t notice.

Watching Jiang Huai’s face twisted in pain, his hands wreathed in white smoke, her massive dragon body shuddered imperceptibly.

For the first time, those calculating, indifferent eyes flashed with something like… remorse.

“Jiang Huai! Let go!”

A shriek, filled with boundless pain and violent rage, split the air.

Wu Zhaohua hadn’t yet arrived, but a terrifying sword intent, condensed to the extreme, poured down like a Milky Way from the heavens.

Her white-robed figure was a streak of lightning, her once-proud gaze now blood-red, locked on Jiang Huai’s charred hands, her heart nearly breaking.

Seeing Jiang Huai gripping the sword in agony was like a thousand blades slicing into her own heart.

She’d let Jiang Huai suffer with her before, but now, with her strength restored, she would never allow him to be hurt again.

From now on, he would be her precious treasure—no one would ever harm him.

As Wu Zhaohua charged in, the others rallied, weapons drawn, murderous intent surging.

Alone, she could fight Qin Qingyue to a standstill. With so many more on her side, what chance did the Demon Dragon have?

“Demon Dragon, stay away from him!” Wu Zhaohua roared, her immortal sword blazing white, its edge sweeping forth.

Qi Yuyong’s face turned cold. She drew her sword and fixed her gaze on Jiang Huai.

She had no intention of joining a Great Ascension battle—her focus was caring for the wounded Jiang Huai.

Yet doubt and unease crept into her heart, her brows furrowing.

According to Senior Sister, Jiang Huai was just a mortal.

No matter how highly she spoke of him, as if he were the world’s finest man, it didn’t change the fact that he was ordinary.

How could a mortal even touch this spirit sword, let alone hold it? Wouldn’t he die instantly?

Was this what Senior Sister meant by Heaven’s Mandate?

In a flash, Wu Zhaohua and the others closed in, swords poised to finally end their old rival.

A cold gleam shot from Qin Qingyue’s eyes, her lips curling in a cruel smile.

“Idiots!”

A torrent of viscous black light erupted from her body. Countless twisted, dark-golden runes surged from the earth and void, weaving a sky-darkening net in an instant.

The Formation trapped Wu Zhaohua and her allies completely.

She’d run before to avoid their attacks, wary of hidden tricks.

Now, with a new lair, how could she just sit and wait for death?

She’d taken the initiative, laying a Formation here and waiting for them to walk into the trap.

Having Jiang Huai try to pull the sword was just a ruse to lure them in.

She hadn’t expected them to hold back—let alone that Jiang Huai would actually try to help her.

“Hmph!” A dragon’s roar, dripping with scorn and mockery, exploded!

Her massive body surged with the force of a landslide and tsunami. With a sudden heave—

The three swords, glowing yellow and driven deep into her flesh, snapped out like brittle twigs!

“You think you can trap me with this?”

“You really underestimate how much I’ve improved over the years! Did you think you were the only one making progress?”

With that, she shifted back to human form, bent down, and picked up each sword. With a flash of light, she stored them in her Storage Ring.

These were good things—never let treasures go to waste.

This was how one built up their wealth, bit by bit!

Within the Formation, blades, spears, swords, halberds, poisonous fire, and shadow lightning rained down from all directions. Screams and shouts filled the air.

The old crone, the monk, and the others paled in terror, scrambling to summon their strongest treasures for protection, barely holding on.

Only Wu Zhaohua stood firm, her Protective Immortal Qi blazing. She forced her way through the Formation, her immortal sword a streak of white, ignoring everything but Qin Qingyue and Jiang Huai beyond.

“Jiang Huai! Give Jiang Huai back to me!”

He was hers—no one else, especially not Qin Qingyue, could take him away!

Jiang Huai stared at the stunning woman before him, momentarily forgetting the pain in his hands.

This was Wu Zhaohua? The Wu Zhaohua he’d spent all these years with?

It seemed Qin Qingyue hadn’t lied—she truly was a Great Ascension cultivator.

Catching Jiang Huai’s dazed look, Wu Zhaohua’s heart ached. She wished she could pull him back and explain everything.

Qin Qingyue raised her brows, stepped lightly to Jiang Huai’s side, and gently wrapped an arm around his waist. She shot Wu Zhaohua a provocative smile.

“What are you talking about? Heaven gave me this little husband.”

“We’re already married. Who are you to him?”

“Have you ever seen him in wedding robes?”