PCJ – Chapter 780 The Xuan Ice Sword

As he drew closer to the snowy mountain, a biting cold gust assaulted him directly. The chill was so fierce that even someone like Zhang Jiaohua, a Refining Tool–Return to Void stage cultivator, could feel it pierce straight into his bones.

“Could it be that this mountain isn’t ordinary snow, but ten-thousand-year Mystic Ice? Otherwise, how could it release such terrifying cold?” Instead of avoiding the mountain, Zhang Jiaohua sped up and flew closer. The nearer he got, the more intense that bone-piercing cold became—so much so that it felt like even his blood was about to freeze.

Zhang Jiaohua quickly circulated his cultivation technique. Spiritual power surged through his meridians and formed a thick barrier of protection around his body.

Even so, the freezing cold continued relentlessly, battering the protective aura around him. Once his spiritual energy ran dry, the cold would break through immediately. The closer he drew to the mountain, the more solid and tangible the cold became. When he was almost upon the mountain surface, the chill condensed like ten thousand razor-sharp swords, all stabbing at his protective barrier at once. If he were an ordinary cultivator—without the endless spiritual replenishment from his Dao Space—his defense would have been shattered already.

Only after coming close did Zhang Jiaohua see the true form of the “snowy mountain.” It wasn’t a mountain at all—it was a gigantic sword of Mystic Ice. He could clearly see its sharp blade. He flew upward along its body. The thickness of the sword was uniform from bottom to top, and its edges shimmered with flickering cold light. Its height was astonishing; after several leaps through the sky, he entered the clouds—yet he still hadn’t reached the top.

Only after passing through the cloud layer did he finally see the end of the sword—a massive sword hilt. It really was an enormous Mystic Ice Sword! Zhang Jiaohua wanted to reach out and grasp the hilt, but the hilt itself was as large as a mountain—how could his hand ever wrap around it? Moreover, this sword had stood here for countless years; it was no longer a mere spiritual or immortal weapon, but something with an indestructible will of its own. A mere mortal dared to covet it? Whoosh— a slash of sword-qi flew out.

Zhang Jiaohua hurriedly dodged. The power of this sword-qi was far beyond the attacks of that immortal crane. He suspected that if he failed to dodge, his life would end instantly. None of the magic tools he carried could withstand such a strike. He had no choice but to retreat into his Dao Space to avoid its edge.

Zhang Jiaohua fled back in a rather disheveled state, and the crane maiden clapped her hands in joy.

“Serves you right!” she glared at Zhang Jiaohua with resentment. But soon, tragedy struck again: the three little troublemakers pounced on her at once and pinned her down to spank her.

“Let me go! I—I—!” The crane maiden started crying miserably.

“Enough, enough, let her go,” Zhang Jiaohua said, feeling some pity.

“Hypocrite!” She stood back up and patted the dirt off her feathers.

Zhang Jiaohua checked the situation outside. Once he confirmed everything had calmed down, he emerged from the Dao Space again.

But the Mystic Ice Sword was completely unreasonable. The moment Zhang Jiaohua appeared, another sword-qi swept toward him.

“Damn it!” Zhang Jiaohua swore and immediately retreated into the Dao Space again. To be hounded by a sword spirit to the point he couldn’t even show his face—he was utterly frustrated.

“Hmph. With such low cultivation, and you actually wanted to seize that immortal sword? Truly tired of living,” the crane maiden said with open disdain. She knew instantly that he had provoked the Mystic Ice Sword.

“How did you know it was that sword?” Zhang Jiaohua asked.

“How could I not know? On Descending Immortal Mountain, the only thing that can threaten you is that Mystic Ice Sword. Everyone here knows of it. But no one dares to covet it—anyone who tries dies. Every single one.” For once, the crane maiden spoke to him without hostility.

“Then why did you bother warning me?” Zhang Jiaohua asked with a smile.

“Why? Because if you die and this space collapses, I might get dragged down with you!” she huffed and looked away.

“Hey… is there any way to make the Mystic Ice Sword submit to me? If you tell me how, I’ll release you. You won’t have to be my spirit pet anymore. How about that?” Zhang Jiaohua asked.

“I already told you. Anyone who tries to claim that sword dies,” she said.

“Then do you know where it came from? Why it’s here?” he asked again.

“It’s said that in ancient times, during a great battle in the Immortal Realm, this sword belonged to a mighty being. That master likely fell in battle, and the sword was abandoned here. Because it was abandoned, the sword spirit developed deep resentment. Anyone who tries to take it is killed instantly. No one who touched it has ever survived. I think this sword now considers you its enemy. If I were you, I’d just hide inside the Dao Space forever. The moment you go out, you’ll be killed.”

After hearing this, Zhang Jiaohua exited the Dao Space again. But this time, he didn’t wait for the sword to attack. He threw out a handful of talismans at once, blasting them toward the sword. The area around the Mystic Ice Sword crackled and boomed like strings of firecrackers exploding continuously. Before the first wave finished, Zhang Jiaohua threw even more, bombarding the sword hilt again and again.

However, the sword’s cold aura formed a thick, solid defense. Despite the violent explosions, the talismans caused little real damage. Instead, they completely enraged the Mystic Ice Sword. Several waves of sword-qi lanced out. If Zhang Jiaohua were struck, he’d be chopped to pieces.

But Zhang Jiaohua refused to fight head-on. The moment things looked bad, he ran again. The Mystic Ice Sword couldn’t understand how he was disappearing each time—it assumed he was using some mysterious escape technique and could do nothing about it.

After Zhang Jiaohua retreated, the Mystic Ice Sword itself became troubled. Why? Even though Zhang Jiaohua hadn’t injured it, he had indeed weakened its defensive cold aura. And after unleashing sword-qi several times in a row, its reservoir of sword-energy was gradually decreasing. It had a great reserve—but not endless. If Zhang Jiaohua continued like this, the one to fall first wouldn’t be Zhang Jiaohua—but the sword itself.

And the sword could see clearly—every time Zhang Jiaohua came back out, he was completely restored.