Chapter 58: A Sword Named Crimson Mystic

Zhuang Lin stepped away from the splashing foul blood, frowning slightly as he walked toward the head of the evil cultivator. Looking at the face that still bore an expression of terror, his mind was somewhat stirred.

This was his first time engaging in combat with a practitioner of the mystic arts. Although he had already determined that the enemy was weak while he was strong, Zhuang Lin still lacked a deep understanding of immortal arts and was even more wary of any potential counter-measures or the escape of the enemy's primordial spirit. Naturally, he struck with the utmost severity, not daring to hold anything back.

Coupled with the fact that he had more experience this time than when he previously executed demons, a single sword strike completely obliterated both body and spirit, extinguishing all vital aura completely!

Even so, Zhuang Lin's brow remained unfurled. Once practitioners of the mystic arts turned to evil, the harm they caused went without saying, and the one before him was a living example!

Zhuang Lin was not particularly afraid that this person might be an important figure from some major sect, or that killing him would bring endless trouble.

Aside from the fragmented information of his inherited lineage, which showed a deep abhorrence for such demonic beings—treating them merely as rats scurrying across the street—even if the man had some background, it was not something that could be brought out into the open.

The so-called soul lamps mentioned in novels were understood by Zhuang Lin to be utter nonsense after he truly came into contact with immortal cultivation. Cultivation fundamentally pursued the perfection of one's foundation; leaving a remnant soul inside a lamp meant a fractured soul, which was tantamount to cutting off one's own path of cultivation.

As for soul-tracing magical treasures, even if they existed, they would belong to the category of supreme treasures and would involve shifts in the celestial mechanisms. To calculate such things, one would need a realm far superior to Zhuang Lin's, requiring at least someone in the True Person realm. Would a cultivator of that tier care about an ignorant, narrow-minded heretic like the one on the ground?

Moreover, considering his previous experience of sensing Lu Jinghe's sword Qi, Zhuang Lin believed that his single sword strike had severed all vital energy. Even if someone tried to calculate the celestial mechanisms, they would only find a muddy, murky pool.

His thoughts revolving once more, Zhuang Lin finally relaxed his brow and let out a gentle breath.

This strike had been rather thrilling, but executing an evil practitioner brought no burden to his heart whatsoever; the man was simply someone who deserved to die!

Taking a closer look at the two sections of the corpse, now that the vital aura had been extinguished by his sword, the places where any lingering energy still existed became glaringly obvious.

Zhuang Lin flicked his finger, and two worn-out books along with a string of prayer beads floated up, landing in his hand. There was also a money pouch, but aside from that, there was nothing else of note.

The prayer beads were few in number, but probing their internal energy made Zhuang Lin frown. A casual flip through the two books revealed all sorts of filthy contents; merely catching sight of the illustrations felt bizarre and utterly repulsive.

He initially wanted to burn them to be done with it, but after hesitating, Zhuang Lin decided to first seal their internal energy with his Dharmic power and keep them for the time being.

Following that, Zhuang Lin gathered his inner focus, circulated his spiritual power, and pointed his sword at the two parts of the corpse.

"Whoosh—" "Whoosh—"

Two clusters of flames ignited separately from the evil cultivator's head and body.

Burning them to ashes would prevent them from dirtying the place.

Afterward, Zhuang Lin swept his sleeve through the air toward the demon corpse hanging in front of the county magistrate's office, scattering all the remaining vital energy on the remains completely.

When he turned back, the corpse on the ground had already been reduced to flying ash within the flames, leaving not even a trace of blood behind.

*Sigh, my meager ability is still not quite enough!*

The two clusters of flames looked formidable, but in reality, they were driven by the fundamental Qi of the Five Elements within his body to refine the corpse, which could not be considered true mastery of fire.

As the saying goes, cultivation is the foundation, and once the Dao is achieved, the techniques follow naturally. Zhuang Lin agreed with this principle; otherwise, he could not have gradually deduced the Dao of the Five Elements through his own comprehension.

However, it required time to accumulate, and for the time being, his application of techniques was still relatively simple. He still needed to diligently deduce immortal arts!

Having finished all this, Zhuang Lin leaped forward. Although he was not yet adept at riding the wind, borrowing the momentum of a favorable wind was not difficult. This was actually very similar to the lightness skills found in novels, so he quickly drifted back to the Zhao family courtyard and returned to the guest room where he had spent the night.

In the several streets near the Wuling County government office, not every resident was fast asleep; naturally, some people had heard the terrified screams of the evil cultivator before his death.

Yet, in the dead of night during a curfew, who would dare to venture outside to look? Those who heard it could only force themselves to sleep in terror.

The bolder ones simply froze in their homes, listening quietly without daring to breathe too loudly...

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Zhao Chenyu's residence seemed to be at a slight distance, so the courtyard remained quiet and still.

Zhuang Lin returned to his room, casually placed the items he was holding on the desk by the bed, and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

At this moment, Zhuang Lin held the wooden sword horizontally. Just a moment ago, its color had been as crimson as fresh blood, but as he restrained his killing intent, the hue of the wooden sword gradually returned to a mysterious, dark reddish-black.

Although this sword possessed a fierce murderous intent that shifted according to his heart, and had been casually carved from wood and forged on the spot, it was nonetheless a fine sword.

While its original foundation might not have been top-tier, its spiritual resonance was by no means inferior. The crucial point was that it followed his intent as smoothly as moving his own arm. If he meticulously refined it over time, or encountered another fortunate opportunity, there was even a possibility that it could eventually nurture a true sword spirit.

Then, it would no longer be merely a divine weapon in the worldly sense, nor could it be simply categorized as a spiritual sword; it would have stepped into the rank of an immortal artifact!

*However, because of my two outbursts of murderous intent just now, I might have strayed somewhat on its path of spirituality...*

With this thought in mind, Zhuang Lin transferred the sword to his left hand, formed a sword finger with his right hand, and allowed his spirit to align with his intent until his righteous Qi was as sturdy as steel. A trace of bright red seeped from his fingertip, which he gently pressed against the sword body, tracing characters as if wielding a brush.

At this moment, if any high-level practitioner were standing nearby, they would feel as though this dark room was suddenly blazing with brilliant light!

"Today, I bestow your name. You shall be called—Chixuan!"

As Zhuang Lin's voice fell along with his strokes, it carried the intent of a formal proclamation and naming!

"Hum..."

The two characters "Chixuan" were carved onto the wooden sword by Zhuang Lin's sword finger. The name was completed, and the sword hummed incessantly...

A heartfelt smile bloomed on Zhuang Lin's face!

Was this an unintentional willow casting shade that unexpectedly turned into a stroke of genius?

After playing with the sword for a while, Zhuang Lin placed the wooden sword on the bookshelf to the side, then lay down on the bed fully clothed, resting his head on his arms.

At this moment, Zhuang Lin's mind was filled with the events before and after his battle with the evil cultivator, during which he felt he had gained some insights.

Whether it was the moment he headed toward the county office, or the flash of inspiration and fluid movement during the subsequent combat, all of it was well worth pondering—much like a bright night of stars and moon, borrowing the power of moonlight and starlight while moving about like a Taiji fish swimming through the waters.

*I must write this down!*

Thinking thus, Zhuang Lin got up from the bed, fetched his book chest, and pulled out the Four Treasures of the Study. Before long, his brush began to move across a roll of brocade paper...

By the third watch, shortly after the night watchman had passed by, Zhuang Lin finally lifted his brush. Looking at the brocade paper, he had written over half a roll. Every single word was pregnant with deep meaning, but it was clearly not yet complete enough to form a finished essay.

*Take it slow!*

Zhuang Lin laid down his brush, stretched his body, and as he lowered his head, his peripheral vision caught sight of the two books obtained from the evil cultivator.

He had roughly flipped through them earlier; one was lengthy and complicated, resembling an experimental log, while the other was clearly a manual of evil arts, featuring illustrations that were too unsightly to behold.

However, stones from other hills could be used to polish jade; people could be divided into righteous and evil, but techniques depended solely on who used them...

With this thought, Zhuang Lin pulled one of the books over and began to read directly. Yet, after reading for only a short while, he frowned repeatedly. *Damn it, the technique itself is evil too; anyone who claims it isn't must be an evil person themselves!*

Despite this, Zhuang Lin forced himself to endure the discomfort and continued reading for a while longer.

Gradually, however, a sense of understanding seemed to dawn in his heart. The things described in the book—devouring souls and extinguishing lives with a ferocious display—could be approached from a different angle. Everything in excess was as bad as falling short; if it were not pushed to such extremes, but presented in another manner, wasn't that also another form of borrowing power?

Zhuang Lin tried his best to cast aside his subjective aversion, flipping through the pages with a much calmer mindset. Afterward, he turned to the smoke technique used by the evil cultivator when he tried to flee, which could be considered a combination of blindfolding illusions and escape arts, even fusing a hint of the technique of churning clouds and exhaling mist...

Although superficial, it possessed a quality of profound guidance, which was of great benefit to the water-control technique he had comprehended...

By this point, Zhuang Lin had cast aside his inner repulsion and contempt, viewing the contents of the books with the mindset of someone seeking and comprehending the Dao. If beneficial, he read it; if not, he skipped it...

When he finally opened the second book, Zhuang Lin learned the evil cultivator's name.

Because the first few pages of that book were recorded rather chaotically, it was perhaps later on that the evil cultivator had a sudden thought and gave the middle section a title: *The Precious Record of Yang Zi'ang's Practice*.

Combined with the self-descriptions and self-appellations scattered throughout the book, Zhuang Lin knew that this man was named Yang Zi'ang.

Aside from the relatively normal process of awakening and cultivation, the practices and exercises he pursued also involved his own reflections.

He had once wondered: since demons could eat humans and devour souls, why couldn't cultivators? If one worried about karmic retribution, could one simply shift the karma onto demonic entities while taking a portion of their spiritual essence for oneself? Would that make everything safe?

Having fallen into this bizarre train of thought, his path gradually began to warp. Sure enough, he later felt that he had made great progress, causing the reading Zhuang Lin to shake his head continuously.

At the same time, however, even more doubts arose in Zhuang Lin's heart.

While Yang Zi'ang certainly deserved to die, the high-sounding words he had uttered in front of the county office earlier were naturally lies meant to beg for his life—yet those lies were interspersed with truths!

It wasn't that Yang Zi'ang had any leaning toward the righteous path; rather, what he said about the decline of the righteous path was true, which was why he himself could act so unbridled.

From Zhuang Lin's perspective, however, Yang Zi'ang was merely a narrow-minded heretic without a proper lineage. The world he perceived was far too small; he was nothing more than a frog at the bottom of a well!

Yet, despite thinking this, Zhuang Lin still harbored a few hidden concerns in his heart, while also being forced to sigh with emotion.

In this era at the end of the ancient Jin Dynasty, it truly fulfilled that saying: when the world falls into great chaos, monsters and freaks are bound to emerge. This held true for both the secular world of mortals and the realm of immortal cultivation...