The Transmigrated Male Lead Confessed to Me - Chapter 27 (Part 2)

Su Zhen silently formed a hand seal. A crack appeared on the back of her hand, and a golden eye forced its way open from within.

A brilliant golden mist shot forth from the eye, piercing the toxic miasma and driving back the attacking demonic beasts.

They retreated, cursing as they went. Their scythe-like wings, long, curved, and razor-sharp, flapped violently, stirring up waves of rancid, foul-smelling wind.

Su Zhen shook them off and swiftly descended, landing in front of a solemn and grim hall. Before she could ascend the steps, two demon cultivators approached from the other side.

Each of them was dragging a half-dead cultivator in one hand.

The two prisoners had disheveled hair, deathly pale faces, and limbs bound by chains of condensed spiritual energy. Several glowing golden spikes were embedded along their spines.

Su Zhen glanced at them, and one of them immediately shot her a look of hatred.

She ignored it entirely and continued forward.

Judging by their robes, the captives were righteous cultivators from a second-rate sect in the Northern Domain—likely elders.

Whether they had entered the Demon Realm willingly or were captured in the Human Realm made no difference to her.

“…So picky. Doesn’t even want these? They’re at least Earth Immortal realm.”

“Forget it, it’s not about being picky. These two just have nothing in their heads. You can count all their spells on two hands, let alone anything else…”

“Sister, your true form has twenty fingers on one hand.”

“Exactly. And those two are Earth Immortals, yet they only know thirty or so spells. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

“Forget it. We’re just testing. I doubt anyone will succeed anyway. How many souls out there even know what they don’t? Even if there is one, how would we be capable of catching them?”

The two demon cultivators chatted among themselves, not taking Su Zhen seriously at all. They passed each other without incident.

Xiao Yu arrived a moment later, not sparing them so much as a glance as he followed directly after Su Zhen.

The interior of the hall was vast. The floor was paved with gold and jade, and large night-luminescent pearls were embedded high in the pillars, casting a brilliant light over the space. At the center stood an enormous altar.

The altar was circular, about three zhang¹ in diameter, with half of it sunk into the ground. It was a blue-gold color, its surface covered with intricate carvings, smeared with dark bloodstains. The hollowed grooves still held congealed, deep-red residue.

It stood about one zhang high, surrounded by a ring of steps.

Su Zhen slowly ascended the steps and, at the same time, cast a barrier at the entrance of the hall.

A seemingly thin wall of light rose up, enclosing the entire hall. Faint golden runes flickered intermittently across the shimmering barrier.

Su Zhen turned back and glanced over her shoulder. “Where did you go just now?”

Xiao Yu followed behind her. “Oh, I was just watching from a distance, admiring your fight with the Scythe-Wing Demons.”

Su Zhen looked baffled. “What was there to admire? We didn’t even really fight. Just a quick exchange. Even if we had fought to the death, it wouldn’t be anything entertaining.”

“Ah, you just don’t get it. That was like real-life CGI. Way better than any special effects…”

Xiao Yu showed a look that clearly said, ‘You just don’t understand.’

Su Zhen: “?”

She had no desire to understand.

Xiao Yu glanced at the altar. “Then I’ll head out first?”

Su Zhen was slightly taken aback. “…You know what I’m going to do?”

Xiao Yu shook his head. “I don’t. But I know what this place is for.”

He turned and descended the steps, waving a hand without looking back. “Be careful.”

Su Zhen watched the tall, upright figure walk away until he exited the hall and disappeared from view. She couldn’t help but shake her head.

She turned around, reached into her qiankun bag and drew out a long sword with a luminous, jade-like sheen.

The blade shimmered with pale green tinged with blue, like a freshly washed jadeite. Its body was long and slender like a willow branch or a blossoming twig. The hilt was a soft milky white tinged with smoky gray, warm to the touch.

Within the sword was a calm and balanced spiritual energy, extremely stable. Though rich with regenerative and nurturing properties, the energy was, overall, gentle and mellow.

Naturally, it was this very nature that made the sword ideal for healing and recovery. If the spiritual energy had been too active or volatile, it would have been prone to going awry.

Su Zhen knew this sword intimately.

She could picture its every detail in her mind even with her eyes closed.

Leng Xiang, listed among the upper-tier immortal artifacts in the Heavenly Weapons Compendium, had been forged from Starshard Steel Crystal. During its smelting, the sap of a ten-thousand-year-old Fuyao tree was poured into it, and it had then been buried beneath the Huayu Plains for centuries.

That region in the Demon Realm was where flora and spiritual energy were most abundant. Nourished by its spiritual veins, the sword eventually birthed a sword spirit.

Hence, its spirit carried an immense vitality.

—This was common knowledge. But after reading that book, Su Zhen realized part of it wasn’t true.

She tapped the blade and suddenly poured spiritual energy into it.

The blade emitted a sharp, grating hum, and the hilt trembled violently, almost shaking itself out of her grasp.

This was what happened when a spiritual weapon and its wielder were not bonded.

It couldn’t fully accept her spiritual energy and actively resisted it. Inject a bit too much, and the sword would spiral out of control.

As a result, she could hardly use it in battle. At most, it could help defeat someone far below her level.

But in such situations, using or not using an immortal weapon made little difference. She could easily win barehanded.

“Come out.”

Su Zhen spoke softly. “Let’s settle our accounts.”

The sword spirit said nothing. Leng Xiang began to tremble again as if that was its answer.

Su Zhen smiled, though there was no warmth in her eyes.

In the past, not knowing the reason, she had assumed it was simply bad luck on her part. She had patiently tried again and again to communicate with the sword spirit, suppressing her temper and never once speaking harshly.

Now, Su Zhen let go.

The sword, which had been resisting her all along, immediately sprang free, shooting from her hand and crashing into the altar.

Inside that altar, bones were piled like mountains, of all shapes and sizes, many charred, broken, and fossilized. At the bottom, a pool of filthy blood had congealed, mixing different shades of red and black, covered with a thick layer of greasy scum. Just looking at it was enough to induce nausea.

That beautiful, pristine immortal sword plunged into the heap of bones, trembling as it wedged between a set of rib bones, stained by the sticky black blood.

It looked utterly out of place amid such surroundings.

“What the hell?!”

Leng Xiang vibrated violently, then shot up into the air.

A burst of green light erupted from the blade, and a roar from the sword spirit echoed throughout the hall. “Su Zhen! Where the hell did you throw Laozi?!”

“You jumped out on your own.”

Su Zhen stared at it impassively. “I’m on the territory of the Demon God of Decrees, in Thousand Chariots Sect’s southern Secret Archive, before the altar of Great Demon Lord Gui Jin.”

As she spoke, she lowered her head slightly.

High-ranking demons were born with awareness. Their environment was cruel and harsh, and most would perish young.

But those who survived could attain the strength of Earth Immortal realm cultivators within two or three hundred years.

Among human cultivators, only the most gifted prodigies could achieve that.

However, among high-ranking demons, the number who could become regional lords—Great Demons—was exceedingly rare. Compared to the total number of high-ranking demons, they’re one in a million.

Naturally, she had to show some respect.

Not only because she was about to make a deal, but also because she admired those who had clawed their way out of the blood-soaked abyss of the Demon Realm.

Human cultivators certainly engaged in schemes and rivalry, but compared to the demons, their early training environment was far less brutal.

Even among demon cultivators, many had initially cultivated in the Human Realm and only entered the Demon Realm after reaching the Nascent Soul realm.

“What did you say?!”

The sword spirit roared in disbelief, “You—! I knew you harbored treachery in your heart, you demonic wretch. You’ve finally fallen to—”

Su Zhen looked at it thoughtfully.

After her death, it quickly bonded with Liu Yunyao and even willingly allowed itself to be refined, becoming part of the sacred sword’s spirit.

And Liu Yunyao carried demon blood. Yet it had never cursed her like this.

“You just hate me.”

Su Zhen tilted her head. “Isn’t that right?”

The sword spirit snarled, “What is there to like about you? From the very first time I saw you, I warned your master that this person is cunning and deceptive, with the bearing of a wolf. When your spiritual energy first touched me, I saw the boundless greed within your heart—”

“No.”

Su Zhen interrupted calmly, “It’s not because of that. And don’t think such nonsense will provoke me. You hate me simply because one of the people who shattered and scattered you long ago was my ancestor.”

The sword spirit abruptly fell silent. “You’re mad! What are you talking about?!”

“They say you were born from the spiritual veins of the Huayu Plains.”

Su Zhen spoke flatly. “But that’s not true.”

Ignoring its reaction, she continued, “You were once the sword spirit of the sacred sword Mieshi. Or rather, a part of it. After Mieshi was destroyed, fragments of the blade and spirit scattered everywhere. One spirit fragment fell into the Demon Realm, into the Huayu Plains, where it was nourished by the spiritual veins for centuries, slowly regaining strength. Eventually, it burrowed into an immortal sword and devoured the newly forming sword spirit inside.”

The sword spirit stammered, “You-you—No way! You can’t—”

Su Zhen spread her hands. “How would I know? I couldn’t possibly know? My Lord, the God of Decrees, knows everything.”

Of course, it was from that book she had learned the truth.

When she became a demon cultivator, she had set this sword aside. At that point, an immortal weapon meant nothing to her.

She had treasured the few rare chances she had to converse with the God of Decrees. She certainly wouldn’t have wasted one asking about some damned Leng Xiang.

“You have memories from the ancient era, though fragmented, don’t you?”

Su Zhen went on. “To me, what you are doesn’t matter. I only care whether you can be used. After all, we share the same attribute. Your power, to me—”

“You!”

The sword spirit, though merely a cluster of light and mist, now spoke in a voice full of fury and clenched-teeth hatred. “You want to command me? Keep dreaming!”

“I’m not dreaming.”

Su Zhen murmured, “Do you really think that just because you don’t accept me as your master, you won’t be used by me? What do you think I brought you here for? Sightseeing?”

As she spoke, she stepped forward, entering the altar.

Standing amidst the pool of blood and piles of bones, Su Zhen slowly lowered her head and raised both hands.

“The remnant soul of a sacred weapon, memories of ancient battlefields, all reside within this sword.”

A cold wind surged through the altar, followed by a burst of powerful spiritual energy.

Crimson light flared between the bones, like countless chains, binding the floating immortal sword in place.

“Su Zhen?!”

The sword spirit screamed in panic and rage. “You-you dare—”

It was trapped within the crisscrossing beams of bloody red light. The green glow of the blade gradually faded, overtaken by the dreadful crimson radiance.

Su Zhen ignored it. “Offer it to Lord Gui Jin for devouring.”

The altar began to quake violently.

A flood of red light erupted, spiritual energy surged across the space, countless bones were swept into the air, and clots of congealed blood burst apart, spraying in all directions.

Within the chaotic swirl of blood mist and light, a massive black shadow slowly emerged. Its silhouette was vague, but its curved neck and graceful posture could be seen, with a pair of long horns rising from its head.

A pair of crimson-gold eyes appeared within the mist, each iris crossed by two eerie black horizontal pupils.

“What is it you seek?” It asked.

“I seek two things.”

Su Zhen raised her hand. “First, extract the essence of the sword’s wood and grass attribute spiritual energy and give it to me.”

“Very well.” It replied.

The sword spirit let out a scream of agonized torment.

TL Note:

1. zhang – A traditional Chinese unit of length approximately equal to 3.3 meters.