“Who?” Seven-Face quickly asked.
“Elder Zhuo Qiu,” Xu Zimo said slowly, word by word.
Back in Northfall City, this Elder Zhuo Qiu had once helped him.
Miss Jing had said that her master, Gongyang Ce, and Elder Zhuo Qiu were known as the Twin Sages, both experts in the art of heavenly secrets within the Mortal Ascension Heaven.
Back then, Zhuo Qiu had given him the final chapter of the Tome of Celestial Secrets for free, yet refused to divine the whereabouts of the Grand-Pivot God-Sword.
Miss Jing was untrustworthy, Gongyang Ce even less so, but Xu Zimo had a feeling that Elder Zhuo Qiu would not harm him.
He had refrained from killing Miss Jing and Gongyang Ce because he had hoped to recruit them.
If the Tome of Celestial Secrets truly existed and was all-knowing, it would be of immense benefit to him.
Unfortunately, both Miss Jing and Gongyang Ce turned out to be deceitful.
Miss Jing’s very existence had been to guide him into a trap.
“Since you parted in Northfall City, does my lord know where Elder Zhuo Qiu is now?” Paimon asked.
Xu Zimo flicked his finger, and a wisp of demonic energy rose from his palm.
“This will lead me to him,” Xu Zimo said.
Back then, he had left a trace of demonic energy on Miss Jing, Elder Zhuo Qiu, and Gongyang Ce, just in case.
Unfortunately, the traces on Miss Jing and Gongyang Ce had already vanished.
Only Elder Zhuo Qiu’s still faintly resonated.
After a brief conversation with Paimon and the others, Xu Zimo left the God World.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the Saint Sovereign Tower, his soul and body fully merged.
His eyes were deeper now, and the third eye on his forehead, originally the Infinite-Samsara God-Eye, was slowly being engulfed by demonic energy since the restoration of his Infernal Heart.
That energy seemed intent on consuming the third eye entirely.
What the result would be, Xu Zimo didn’t know, nor did he stop it.
Standing up, his gaze and black hair seemed darker than before.
Opening the door, he saw Sword God Xie Changliu dutifully standing guard outside.
“No one came looking for me, right?” Xu Zimo asked.
“The people from the Alchemy God Tower came once, wanting to see you. They’ve since left,” Xie Changliu replied.
“Then let’s go,” Xu Zimo said, nodding.
Leaving the tower, he knew this trip to Brahma City had come to an end.
The demonic energy in his palm continued pointing eastward, the direction of Elder Zhuo Qiu.
He didn’t stop Xie Changliu from following this time.
Summoning Chaos, he and Xie Changliu rode eastward together.
……………
Half a month later.
Chaos had been flying for days on end, yet the trail of Elder Zhuo Qiu’s energy still hadn’t stabilized.
It seemed they needed to go even farther east.
But after such a long journey, when they passed by a particularly prosperous city, Xu Zimo decided to rest for a bit.
Descending from Chaos’s back, they slowly approached the massive city gates.
Carved upon them were two grand characters,
“Ever-Peace.”
The Capital of Prosperity, Ever-Peace.
The city bustled with life; crowds flowed like rivers, voices rose and fell, merchants called, and laughter filled the air.
Entering the city, they saw lion dancers, street performers, and countless travelers.
“It’s lively,” Xu Zimo remarked.
“Of course,” Xie Changliu replied. “Ever-Peace has been the founding capital of the Six Dynasties since the Middle Ages. It has survived six dynasties, and remains as splendid as ever.”
“Then let’s rest here for the night and leave tomorrow,” Xu Zimo said.
Xie Changliu nodded.
Passing through the noisy streets, they found a decent inn.
The first floor was crowded and noisy, so the attendant led them upstairs to a quieter table by the window.
Xie Changliu sat facing the window, gazing silently at half of Ever-Peace below.
His eyes were deep, touched with nostalgia.
“The last dynasty here was the Bright Empire,” Xie Changliu murmured.
“Founded by the Bright Emperor?” Xu Zimo asked. “I heard he was destroyed by the Time Emperor.”
He had once visited the Bright Emperor’s particle world, the man was long dead, his soul consumed by the Lich.
So he knew a little of the story.
“Yes,” Xie Changliu nodded. “After the Time Emperor destroyed the Bright Empire, this land was left desolate. Later, when the Time Emperor departed, the Zhou Clan, who had helped him destroy the Bright Empire, took over this place. They founded a new empire: the Great Zhou.”
“You know quite a lot,” Xu Zimo said.
“I grew up here,” Xie Changliu said softly. “I studied the sword in the Bright Empire from the age of three and lived here for centuries. This place was once my home. But when the Bright Empire fell, I could do nothing. The Time Emperor was far too strong. I spent nearly a thousand years in Heaven’s End, Ocean’s Edge. Now that I’ve returned, everything feels… foreign. Nothing is as I remember it.”
As they spoke, the inn’s waiter brought up their food.
“Enjoy your meal, gentlemen.” After the waiter left, a group of young men and women ascended the stairs.
They were finely dressed in embroidered robes of deep blue, oval-cut at the bottom, with twin crossed swords embroidered on their chests, clearly of distinguished status.
They sat in the private booth next to Xu Zimo and Xie Changliu, separated only by a screen.
From Xu Zimo’s angle, he could see into the booth.
“Sister Yuruo, did you grasp the Four Sword Forms that Master taught today?” one young man asked.
“Downward Strike, Spinning Sweep, Forward Thrust, Reverse Slash,” the girl replied gently. “Master said these four are both the foundation and essence of swordsmanship. To understand them is to unlock infinite sword forms.”
“I’m dull of mind,” she added modestly. “I haven’t yet mastered them.”
The group laughed and chatted, discussing sword techniques.
Just then, another person climbed the stairs.
He looked every bit a beggar, clothes in tatters, hair matted, face filthy, and even from a distance came the stench of unwashed years.
One of his legs was broken, and he limped heavily.
His face was hidden beneath messy hair; nothing could be seen clearly.
He hobbled into a corner on the second floor and sat quietly.
A waiter followed behind him, carrying the cheapest jug of wine.
“Just drink quietly over there and leave when you’re done,” the waiter muttered. “Or the innkeeper will scold me again.”
After setting the wine down, the waiter hurried away.
The beggar sat in silence, drinking alone.
After a while, the group of young swordsmen and women finished eating and came out of the booth,
And at once, one of them pointed and laughed.
“Look, everyone! The Sword Maniac, begging for wine again!”