In its wake, the swirl of lethal force now gathering above Xia Hu could have minced several disciples into pieces. But with masterful control of sword energies, Xia Hu ensured that the pearl-white orbs—hosts of this destructive force—didn’t graze any of his peers. The sword orbs coiled in intertwining rings of razor-sharp qi. Xia Hu trod the sky, looming above his fellow disciples like an immortal descended from the Highest Heaven.

“Fellow Daoists, though most of us came for petty benefits rather than victory, we still devoted weeks of our lives—isolated from friends or foes—to prepare for this contest. Yet, the sect didn’t hesitate to set up a sham trial where, in one way or another, Xinzi would come out on top. They spit on our hopes, take our lives for granted, and don’t respect our efforts,” Xia Hu said, making the disciples fall into a pensive state.

Xia Hu had a plan, a simple plan devised alongside Xue Yuanshao to ensure Xinzi’s defeat: retreat to advance and divide to conquer. An old monster that went through the Great Desolation world’s most barbaric era, Xue Yuanshao excelled at observation, schemes and plots. The three let him realize that, while on the surface the trial put the same emphasis on sword and formation comprehension, in truth it tipped the scales in favor of the latter. The reason was simple, an outstanding formation master at the black grade or above could seep enough Spiritual Sense into the formation to track down the sword orbs scattered throughout—the same applied to the formation insight, naturally.

But among the 263 initial male disciples, only 1 met these criteria: Xinzi. One could argue that it wasn’t the White Immortal sect’s fault that Xinzi’s unique skillset gave him an overwhelming advantage over his peers. But if they ever intended to host a competitive event, they wouldn’t leave such an obscene loophole behind—especially when only one disciple benefited from it.

In the gathered disciples’ eyes, this showed unacceptable double standards. They had to put their lives on the line to secure the sect’s recognition. But Xinzi merely had to show up. Of course, this wasn’t entirely accurate. As they were the most likely to master the Yin-Yang Sword Array, the sect elders did intend to give formation masters an edge. But how could they imagine that Xinzi would reach the point to outright take control of the formation?

This was like criticizing preeminent gambling houses for creating such challenging games that only the best analysts and mathematicians could consistently make a profit. But in their rage and indignation, the White Immortal sect disciples couldn’t see through the nuances. The arrogant stance their leaders faced them with didn’t help.

Gambling on this opportunity, Xia Hu relied on his tyrannical sword mastery and Spiritual Sense to strip the orbs from Xinzi’s hands and position himself as the heroic figure resisting classist oppression. By now, even the dimmest realized that, if not for Xia Hu’s sword mastery, they’d be reduced to helpless ants struggling underneath Xinzi’s toes—the thought rattled them.

“Since Abbot Qingxin took office, Lianism spread like an epidemic and can now compete with Daoism as the number one religion of Dongli. But brothers, isn’t Daoism the backbone of the immortal road and heart of our sect? When Lianism replaces Daoism, how can we still claim the mantle of White Immortals?

From the disciples gathered here, a generation of elders will emerge. Yet, when compared to Xinzi, your combined value doesn’t seem to be worth more than half a dog.

Lianism splits into two paths, the Great Vehicle of Transcendence and the Great Vehicle of Indulgence. Xinzi claims to belong to the Vehicle of Transcendence, yet his temple houses more meat than a leading farmer’s cattle ranch—and Heaven only knows what goes on within.

The elders are so muddled that they put our future in the hands of our ruin. If this continues, if we don’t stop Xinzi now, it won’t be long before this ancient righteous faction degenerates into a cabal of demon worshippers devoted to Xinzi’s perverse whims!” Xue Yuanshao dictated the speech, Xia Hu declaimed it, and the disciples drank the words like a herd of gluttonous ogres. The drums of war beat within their chests, and as the world’s momentum gathered around Xia Hu, the fem swordmaster put the final nail in the coffin.

Raising his ring finger, Xia Hu tapped his storage ring. Curving beams of orange light shot out, merging into the form of a 2.5 meters tall, amber-stone puppet. “A Yang Doll?” Several disciples recognized the amber construct. With its culture laced in dual cultivation, Dongli had produced its fair share of tools meant to help couples perform at a high level. Yang Dolls were one such tool, a 12-year-old invention enabling impotent males to refine yang qi and satisfy their partners by proxy.

At their inauguration, many female cultivators expected the Yang Dolls to sell out and trend among their partners. Strangely, they failed to appeal to those male cultivators who struggled with bedsheet performances. Less popular than Soul Melding, it wasn’t long before the Yang Dolls faded from mainstream stores—the black market now hosted most of the supply. In the spectators’ eyes, the doll’s appearance made a mockery of Xia Hu’s virility—self-inflicted, but a mockery all the same. The disciples didn’t care. In other circumstances, they would have used this opportunity to throw jabs at Xia Hu, but now that their future seemed so uncertain and increasingly relied on him, cheap-shooting their last glimmer of hope didn’t seem appropriate.

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“Defeat Xinzi. Afterward, you can still compete according to the rules. I hereby make a Dao pledge that, after subduing him, I am willing to withdraw from the competition,” Xia Hu placed one hand on his chest and laced the words in his Spiritual Sense—engraving them on his soul. Dao Pledges were no joke. If broken, the pledge would summon a minor tribulation and empower Xia Hu’s Heart Demon.

Stirred by Xia Hu’s determination, the disciples let go of their last bits of hesitation and gathered around their new leader. Satisfied, Xia Hu split off a chunk of sword force, bestowing enough sword orbs that the disciples could condense their yang swords, while keeping enough to contend with Xinzi’s formation. The Yang Doll kicked into gear, channeling and transforming the sword orbs into a peerless Yang Sword.

“Vague and devoid of commitment. Moreover, you can retrieve the sword orbs whenever you want to. Not bad, not bad. I suppose that to survive a rank-four Blood Yang Gorilla’s ravages, you had to temper that reckless brain of yours.” Lost in the instant, the disciples failed to realize how little Xia Hu had actually committed to. Pledge-wise, semantics made the difference between life and heavenly punishment. Xia Hu had only declared his willingness to withdraw; not once did he affirm that he would.

A certified con artist, Xinzi didn’t let that detail escape him, but couldn’t be bothered with exposing the fraud. By hijacking the array and robbing all other disciples of formation insight, Xinzi had alienated himself from the others. Henceforth, any word that came out of his mouth would be perceived as an attempt to divide the group. And for once, Xinzi had to admit that in a clash of wits, Xia Hu had him beat—almost.

“Last time, you only won because I let you get in my head. This time, you won’t have the opportunity.” Unfazed by Xinzi’s words, Xia Hu clapped back. He’d not suffered weeks of grotesque humiliation to give it all up for a bunch of feckless nuisances. But to take Xinzi down a peg, he could say and do it all.

“Eww. Easy brother...sister, I’m a bit lost on the topic. But one thing is for sure. I’m not putting anything in you. As much of a deviant as I can be, don’t expect me to thirst for a gorilla’s sloppy seconds. I’d much rather dump my load in A’Xu—just like I did with A’Ling.” Closing his eyes, Xinzi flicked his tongue across his lips—relishing in sensual images.

“Rubbish!”

“Didn’t you see her glow? That’s the shine of a woman—a woman that experienced all the best of men can provide. Odd. Clearly you wanted them both, had the opportunity to snatch them, but hid behind myriad nonsense such as morals, codes and ethics. Now things have changed, sis-bro. Even if you somehow regained a male form, no one is waiting for you. But as they say, plenty of fish in the sea. Just stay clear from the tantalizing ones, and I won’t wreck your lovelife...again. That said, the green and glossy hat hanging on your scalp seems to indicate that you don’t mind the thought. Like to watch? Interesting. When I breed Chun Xu, I will make sure you watch every bit of it.”

“False! False! False!” Though he knew that left unchecked, it wouldn’t be long before Xinzi got in his ladies’ pants, Xia Hu had not expected that by the time they competed for the sword array, Dong Ling would have fallen to Xinzi’s tricks. The swordmaster’s eyes went bloodshot, and his heart spiraled out of control.

“Do you think it’s possible to get pregnant from rear abuse? I’d be curious to see what type of offspring would poop out of yours—if you get my drift.” At first, the disciples didn’t notice the mental exchange, but as Xia Hu’s eyes fumed and his skin boiled, it became obvious that Xinzi’s invincible tongue had gone to work, threatening to bring the swordmaster down without a fight.

“Get a grip! This is precisely how he got you last time! So what if it’s true? What if it’s not? In one way or another, it all benefits you! Xia Hu, embrace the Green Sword Dao, and your Dao Heart will become as solid as a rock!” Xue Yuanshao attempted to save his disciple from himself.

He wouldn’t have to. For as Xia Hu floundered and his momentum waned, Rong Suishan stepped forward, facing Xinzi alongside Xia Hu. A green pill hung in his palm, brimming with formidable spiritual energy.