Kill That Cultivator - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fighting my way out of the Demon Palace while carrying Master on my shoulder was as easy as eating a meal.

But I still ran into my first problem.

At the border between the Demon Realm and the Cultivation World, yellow sand filled the sky, and there stood a steep slope: the Yellow Sand Slope.

The slope looked simple enough, but there were countless tricks hidden within it.

To cross it, you couldn’t use any magic power, and you had to move fast. Otherwise, the backlash would drag you down into the yellow sand.

The main reason was that the big shots from a thousand years ago had been far too powerful.

The sword immortals of the Cultivation World were basically all dirt-poor. With nothing to their names but their lives, they would draw their swords and start swinging.

A sword was a sword immortal’s second face. A person could be poor, but their sword could not.

Once a sword was poor, its power would drop dramatically.

To maintain that second face, the sword immortals could only turn their attention to the wicked Demon Race.

No spirit stones to maintain their swords? Then they would take missions to fight the Demon Race and earn spirit stones.

But when they fought the Demon Race, their swords would get damaged. The spirit stones earned from missions had to be used to maintain the swords. Maintaining swords required huge amounts of spirit stones. To get spirit stones, they could only fight the Demon Race. Fighting the Demon Race required using swords. Using swords would worsen the damage to the swords…

And so, a vicious cycle was formed.

From then on, the Demon Realm became the sword immortals’ backyard, with sword immortals coming and going as they pleased.

After being beaten black and blue for several thousand years, the Demon Race produced countless Demon Lords and Demon Venerables with profound demonic power.

Unfortunately, for every poison in the world, there is an antidote within five steps.

The constantly changing Cultivation World also produced many Number One Sword Immortals.

As the fiercest of the broke, the Number One Sword Immortal was simply absurdly strong.

After the Demon Race was brutally thrashed for another several thousand years, they finally changed direction and turned their efforts toward architecture.

At the end of the day, sword immortals were still human. Without any magic power, the Demon Race could return to their original forms and become birds, insects, or beasts, but humans could not become anything at all.

And so, a structure that only the Demon Race could pass through was born.

Namely, this Yellow Sand Slope.

From that day on, home became a true safe haven.

Master and I stood on the slope, staring at each other. He had also realized where the problem lay and asked me, “How did you get in?”

How did I get in?

I answered honestly, “I slept my way in.”

Master: “…”

I crouched down and stroked my chin in thought.

No magic power, and we had to be fast.

Suddenly, an idea surfaced in my mind.

“Master, I actually have a method. I just don’t know whether you can bear the loss of dignity.” My voice was firm. “I can, anyway.”

Master rubbed his brow, his face weary. Clearly, he no longer wanted to think, so he said, “You decide. I, your teacher, will agree.”

I leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Master, first you do this, then that. After that, I’ll do this and that.”

“This is truly…” Master’s beautiful eyes widened at once as he looked at me in disbelief. “How improper.”

“Then should I go first?” I scratched my head.

In the end, he still yielded.

Master lay face down on the steep slope, his head pointing downward, and closed his eyes with a face ashen as death.

“Ahem.” I cleared my throat, planted my left foot on his lower back, then pushed off backward with my right foot. Just like that, I had myself a sandboard.

I used my sword to control our direction, and we slid all the way down without obstruction.

Master weakly lifted an arm, and I instantly understood. The moment we caught air, I swiftly swapped positions with him.

The hair crown on his head had long since fallen off. His ink-black hair spilled loose, several cuts had been scraped across his face by grains of sand, and he spat out a mouthful of sand with a blank expression.

Feeling the stinging pain on my own face, I thought, this really was a matter of sacrificing one’s dignity.

This stretch of road was far too long, so we had to keep switching positions.

After a few rounds, we both became quite practiced. We even had a flash of perfect understanding midair and both flipped over in unison like soaring kites.

Ah!

I couldn’t help sighing. After so many years as sword immortals, this was the first time we had ever been like ordinary people.

How nostalgic.

About half an hour later, we left the Demon Realm, and our speed slowly decreased.

I had just brought Master to a steady stop when my junior brother’s voice rang in my ears, three parts horror, three parts shock, and one hundred parts fury.

“Senior Sister, what are you doing? How could you treat Master like this?”

Guiltily, I jumped down from Master and explained with a perfectly serious face, “It may look like I’m stepping on Master, but this is actually a strength-building skiing exercise.”

Fortunately, my junior brother had no time to pay attention to me.

He hurriedly helped Master up and asked with heartache, “Master, how are you?”

Master slowly raised his head. His hair was in disarray, several scratches marred his fair, handsome face, and his usually spotless white robes were both wrinkled and dirty.

He was like a stalk of emerald bamboo drenched by a storm, or like a snow lotus ravaged by wind and snow.

Not only did he not look wretched, the state he was in instead added a fragile beauty to him.

Seeing such a delectable Master, my junior brother looked like his drool was about to fall. That ravenous gaze of his seemed desperate to swallow Master whole.

Under the force of that look, even a mighty Number One Sword Immortal like me could only retreat three steps and choose to leave the two of them some space.

“Master…” My junior brother swallowed. “This disciple will carry you back.”

But my junior brother was clearly destined to be disappointed. Master had just endured a round of the Demon Lord’s baptism, and now he had PTSD toward men.

Master had already come back to himself. He flung off my junior brother’s hand and called out to me just as I was about to sneak away.

“Yan Zhi, where are you going?”

I turned back and once again brought out my urgent-need-to-pee theory. “When nature calls, nature calls. Master, I have a call to answer.”

Master paused, shifted his gaze slightly away, and said, “Answer it after we return to the sect. I will ride your sword.”

Me: “…”

My junior brother shot me a resentful glare, then instantly changed expressions and said to Master with tender affection, “Master, this disciple knows you are kind and cannot bear to blame Senior Sister for such outrageous disrespect, but this disciple’s heart aches for Master. Please allow this disciple to take care of you.”

Me: “…”

Now those were some artful words.

Master said coolly, “This is the first time I have realized you are so eloquent.”

My junior brother was as perceptive as a strand of hair, so he naturally knew Master was displeased. He froze for a moment, a little hurt. “This disciple didn’t mean…”

Although Master currently looked like a battle-damaged beauty, his tongue was even more damaging.

He added, “I did not see you come to rescue me before. Yet now you want to come and steal the credit.”

Those words made my junior brother’s face turn deathly pale, and he no longer dared say another word.