Chapter 54: Nezha (Requesting Monthly Votes)

On the mist-shrouded Mount Hidden Fog, Cao Kong sheathed his sword and stood quietly, eyes half-closed, savoring the profound enlightenment he had just experienced. When he opened his eyes again, any onlooker gazing into them would find themselves dazed, as if witnessing a golden autumn—the world steeped in the solemn, desolate imagery of all things withering.

Within his heart surged an inexplicable sense of completeness, as though he had transcended his former limits and ascended to a new realm—a mystery profound beyond words, wondrous and elusive, existing solely within and impossible to describe.

This was mastery in its initial form.

If, in the future, he wielded this Sword of the Western Seven Mansions in combat, not only could he easily summon starlight and channel its power to enhance his strikes, but his spirit and energy would become one, invoking the essence of the Western White Tiger to awe and intimidate his foes. Those lacking in resolve would find their strength diminished even before crossing swords.

“How marvelous—the ways of the world are truly wondrous,” Cao Kong could not help but sigh. He had always been most attuned to the element of wood, and for the past three years had devoted himself more to the Sword of the Eastern Seven Mansions than any other. He had long sought mastery in the Eastern sword without success, yet by a chance whim, inspired by an autumn breeze, he had instead comprehended the Western sword’s mysteries.

It was just as the saying went: the flower you tend with care may not bloom, while the willow you plant without intention flourishes in the shade.

Ah, the Sword Sutra.

Cao Kong suddenly recalled: now that he had attained this new level, perhaps it was time to open a new chapter in the Sword Sutra. He reached into his robe to take it out and study it further.

But abruptly, his spiritual senses flared in alarm. A tremor shook the ground, dust billowed, and he heard a voice ring out.

“Who goes there!”

A defiant voice responded, “I am Nezha, the Third Prince, descending by decree of the Jade Emperor to vanquish demons.”

Cao Kong shouted and fixed his gaze. He first saw a demon boar split clean in two, and then his eyes narrowed as a handsome youth approached.

The youth stood upon wind and fire, clad in treasure-laden armor, a red silk sash fluttering behind him.

“Still watching? I’ve come to take you in,” the youth declared.

Cao Kong replied calmly, “Greetings, Third Prince Nezha.”

Nezha, seeing that Cao Kong showed surprise but no fear, grew curious. “You’re a demon, and I’m here by imperial command to slay demons and evil spirits. Aren’t you afraid of me?”

“Why should I be afraid?”

“Why aren’t you afraid?”

Cao Kong’s eyelids twitched; he had no wish to debate this topic further. He said, “Though I am of demon kind, I am also a follower of the Dao, abiding by the laws of heaven and earth, and my heart belongs to the righteous path. There’s no need for the Third Prince to frighten me intentionally.”

Nezha smiled, then noticed the golden sword in Cao Kong’s hand. Remembering the Daoist aura he had just sensed, Nezha’s competitive spirit was stirred, and he grew eager for a contest.

He pointed at the split demon boar. “I just found this demon at the foot of the mountain—its murderous aura was overwhelming. Had I not intervened, your mountain would have suffered greatly.”

Cao Kong felt something was off. Was Nezha always this talkative?

“So?”

“So, you owe me a favor. Settle the debt by facing me in a duel today.”

Without further ado, a sword materialized in Nezha’s hand, pointing directly at Cao Kong. Though he made no move, Cao Kong could feel a fierce, soaring fighting spirit bearing down on him, as if countless swords poised to strike were all aimed his way—a sensation sharp and oppressive.

No wonder he was called Nezha the Fierce, Guardian of the Three Heavens. Even without summoning his full power, Nezha’s mere presence was overwhelming.

What was meant by “fierce”? It was awe-inspiring and formidable—fighting violence with violence, a true warrior’s spirit.

Before Cao Kong could react, Nezha added, “Don’t worry, I won’t overpower you with my magic.”

Realizing the battle was inevitable, and having just achieved mastery of the sword, Cao Kong found himself yearning for combat as well.

He gripped his sword, then opened his mouth and inhaled—the mists swirled, and a wooden sword flew forth, hovering at his side. In that instant, his very being seemed to transform into a treasured blade, cleaving through Nezha’s relentless aura.

Nezha watched with approval. To draw the sword without unsheathing it was a form of deterrence—true combat was to exhaust every means at one’s disposal.

Even so, Nezha did not act, but only gathered his energy more tightly about him.

Cao Kong knew that if this standoff continued, he would be overwhelmed by Nezha’s aura and lose his fighting edge before the duel even began—a disadvantage he could not afford.

With a flick of his wrist, golden light blazed from his sword, which rang with a chilling note, carrying the intent to lay waste to all things.

He moved like a blur, stepping into the constellation’s positions, and unleashed the full transformative power of the Sword of the Western Seven Mansions—countless sword shadows enveloped Nezha from every side.

Nezha did not evade but pressed the attack, raising his sword with utmost simplicity. Amid the myriad sword lights, he found the true killing blade and parried with a direct thrust.

Blade clashed against blade, ringing like struck metal. Their figures crossed and recrossed.

Nezha twisted his wrist and the sword spun, stabbing forward. Cao Kong met it, blocking with the stance known as “Su Qin Carrying Swords on His Back.”

One fought with endless variation, the other with a return to the ultimate unity; the clamor of clashing swords echoed through Hidden Fog Mountain, sword qi tearing stone, withering grass and trees wherever it passed.

The Golden Leopard and the foxes, startled, rushed to watch, convinced that Cao Kong had encountered a dire foe.

“Stay back!” Cao Kong shouted, attacking once more. His figure flashed through the eight trigrams of heaven and earth, leaving footprints imbued with spiritual power—a testament to the all-out nature of this battle.

Yet compared to Nezha’s mastery of martial arts, Cao Kong was still far behind.

Their strength and speed were matched, but even wielding the Sword of the Western Seven Mansions to its utmost, Cao Kong could barely fend off Nezha’s onslaught.

The duel raged for dozens of exchanges, day and night seeming to blur together. Were it not for their deliberate restraint, Hidden Fog Mountain would have been laid to ruin.

With a fierce shout, Cao Kong’s voice resounded with golden resonance. He drew forth every shred of innate Daoist energy within him, channeling the power of the Western Seven Mansions to deliver his strongest strike.

Golden light surged from the ground—every place Cao Kong had stepped shone, forming a killing array, all gathering star-power to augment himself.

The White Tiger is the god of metal, revered as the General of Troops, skilled in warfare and military formations.

Those watching—Golden Leopard and the foxes—felt as though a ferocious tiger-god had fixed its gaze upon them, fear creeping over their bodies.

But Nezha, the target of the strike, only laughed heartily. “Excellent swordsmanship!”

His sword vibrated, harmonizing with the cycles of sun and moon, as he advanced and slashed.

A piercing clang split the air as the two crossed paths; Nezha broke Cao Kong’s sword momentum, and as Cao Kong’s blade was about to be forced aside, pain shot up his arm—a sword pierced into it, blood dripping to the ground.

Nezha, Third Prince, was truly among the foremost of the immortals—not someone whose sword mastery could be matched at this stage.

Both withdrew their swords. Cao Kong grunted, while Nezha’s gaze sharpened—a strand of hair drifted down before him.

The handsome youth’s lips curled into a broad, heroic smile as he laughed freely, “Well done!”

Golden Leopard darted to Cao Kong’s side, glared angrily at Nezha, and produced healing pills he had refined himself.

By nature, Nezha would have glared back, but he paused, sensing a familiar Daoist energy emanating from Golden Leopard.

Was that… the power of the Star God of Longevity?

He recalled the innate Daoist energy in Cao Kong during their duel—such a refined lineage could only come from the highest orders of the Dao.

His gaze grew even more serious. It seemed both of these two had powerful patrons behind them.