Chapter Thirty-Six: The Sword Suppresses the Horde of Evil

The Withered Wood Sword is a divine blade. From the moment Shen Chang'an grasped it, he sensed that he lacked the strength to truly wield it. Yet, a divine sword is divine precisely because it exerts its utmost to assist its master.

A divine sword can generate sword qi on its own. The sword qi of the Withered Wood Sword is unique; it lacks the explosive, murderous aura of the "Soldier's Calamity" or the piercing sharpness of the "Dragon Slayer." Instead, it possesses an inexhaustible, life-sustaining vitality. Consequently, even without Shen Chang'an actively channeling it, the sword generates its own energy. Shen Chang'an had been gathering this qi for a long time, accumulating ten full strands. This quantitative change finally triggered a qualitative leap, resulting in the terrifying power unleashed before him.

Shen Chang'an had once learned of the existence of flying swords in this world—swords that, when set in motion, fill the air with a deluge of qi, where a single flash of light inevitably results in heads falling to the ground. The Withered Wood Sword was more than capable of being such a weapon. Although Shen Chang'an lacked the skill to master a true flying sword, unleashing its ten strands of qi was far beyond what any ordinary demon could withstand.

Like a gale sweeping away fallen leaves, Shen Chang'an mimicked the techniques of flying sword mastery, triggering all the qi within the blade. In an instant, most of the room was reduced to wreckage. Wherever the sword qi passed, the demons in its path were transformed into mist. General Blackwind attempted to raise his hand to block it, but a light graze of the qi instantly claimed his life.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was as if a giant hand had reached down from the heavens; the space before him was suddenly cleared, leaving not a trace behind after being carved through by the pure sword light. Shen Chang'an exhaled a breath of stale air, his face turning slightly pale. Even though the ten strands of qi were self-generated by the sword, he was the one wielding it, and the toll of controlling that power was significant.

"That brat is spent!" a voice rang out from the shadows. The surrounding demons fixed their eyes on Shen Chang'an, their expressions turning vicious.

Shen Chang'an took a deep breath, ignoring the monsters entirely, and performed the nine-breath respiration technique right in front of them. A surge of primordial energy from heaven and earth poured into his body, revitalizing his spirit.

"If you have the guts, come and try me!"

As he finished speaking, a talisman suddenly appeared in his hand. An inexplicable murderous intent descended from the sky, and a cyan sword light manifested, which Shen Chang'an gripped firmly.

Green Duckweed Vanquishing Evil!

This talisman was no longer his trump card, but even so, it was far from something the demons present could resist. Shen Chang'an slashed out once more, carving a long trench through the ground and slicing through several demons; blood splattered across the floor.

Shen Chang'an laughed heartily, "Come on then! Let this Taoist see how many more lives you have to throw away!"

The demons were cowed and halted their advance. Some of the more timid ones turned and fled, having no intention of crossing blades with him. Seeing this, Shen Chang'an felt a slight sense of relief.

In truth, he was utterly exhausted. The *Bigu* (grain-abstinence) divine ability continuously drew spiritual energy from the heavens, but the meager mana recovered was nowhere near enough to sustain another fight in the short term. More importantly, there was not a single strand of sword qi left in the Withered Wood Sword. If any demon were truly fearless and insisted on challenging him, Shen Chang'an would be exposed instantly.

He had not dared to launch a head-on assault earlier because he knew that even by exhausting his strength, he could not defeat all these demons. Moreover, a direct frontal attack would have required a more open space, where a surprise strike would not have achieved the same devastating effect. But now, having slain a dozen leaders of Blackwind Mountain and reduced General Blackwind himself to scraps of flesh, the result was not just a great victory—it was a psychological blow that terrified the survivors.

Everyone knew Shen Chang'an lacked the strength to stand against so many, but no one wanted to be the first to taste his blade. To be struck was certain death, with no chance of survival.

With no one stepping forward, Shen Chang'an spoke coldly, "Since you dare not come, this Taoist shall take all the humans from this stronghold. If any of you wish to stop me, come and test the sword in my hand!"

Without a second glance, he led the young couple and ordered them to guide him to the dungeons where General Blackwind held his captives. The demons looked at one another, but no one stepped up to intervene. These hundreds of humans had been captured by the General, and they meant nothing to the others. If they wanted to leave, let them. Had Shen Chang'an insisted on acting aggressively, these creatures might have fought to the death out of desperation, but his dismissive, confident demeanor extinguished their will to fight.

They had all worked hard to gain sentience and cultivate into demons; who would willingly throw their lives away? General Blackwind was well and good, but with him dead, who would seek vengeance? Even the weasel steward had already fled. Why should they, who were hardly family to the General, gamble their own lives?

Shen Chang'an walked with a steady, unhurried gait, his face showing no change in expression, yet he was inwardly anxious. Slaying the demons had been cathartic, but the act had drained his very essence and spirit. He had been too arrogant; to kill the General in one strike, he had cast aside all caution and pushed himself to the brink of collapse.

If not for the *Bigu* ability and the mana replenished by the nine-breath respiration, he would have collapsed long ago. But to intimidate the mob, he had been forced to invoke the Green Duckweed talisman as well. At this moment, Shen Chang'an was truly only a step away from fainting.

*Hold on, just hold on a little longer.*

He gritted his teeth, forcing his expression to remain impassive, even as his mind throbbed with agony, pulling him toward unconsciousness. Just as they neared the dungeon, a cold voice rang out: "Who goes there?"

Shen Chang'an paused, looking up to see that the owner of the voice was none other than Yu Qingxian, who had abandoned him earlier. Seeing Shen Chang'an, a look of embarrassment crossed her face, but she did not mention it, asking directly, "Daoist Shen, how did things go on your end?"

Shen Chang'an shook his head slightly and whispered, "I couldn't hold them for long; my mana is exhausted. What about the people? Have you rescued them all?"

"Feng'er is helping them out now. Most have already been moved to safety, and only those with mobility issues remain. We are using the healing talismans you provided, followed by lightness talismans; they should be able to walk out soon."

Shen Chang'an nodded, his heart suddenly relaxing. The world blurred before his eyes, and he collapsed.