sinovels Chapter 391 The Sinner in Green Robes! The Azure Cloud Sect Sword Formation!
Chapter 391 The Sinner in Green Robes! The Azure Cloud Sect Sword Formation!
In the herb garden.
Qingyizi's face was full of bitterness.
He held in his hand a token that was neither gold nor jade, but cool to the touch—the "Cloud Pattern Key" from the Qingyun Sect's treasury.
The key's surface is engraved with fine flowing cloud patterns, and a faint blue light is embedded in its center. Only the sect leader and the ancestor can possess it.
As he handed over the keys, his fingertips trembled slightly, and his face was full of reluctance.
"Give it to me, what are you so reluctant about? Don't waste our time!" Chen Fan said with a smile, snatching the keys.
"Don't worry, we're just borrowing it, we won't take the actual item. We've been curious about the sword formation inheritance of the Qingyun Sect for a long time."
Qingyizi's lips moved, but she ultimately remained silent.
Seeing this, Chen Fan didn't linger and disappeared in a flash!
Seeing this, Qingyi stood frozen in place, a bitter fire burning in her heart.
He recalled that the Qingyun Sect had been established for a thousand years, and that the ancestors of each generation had devoted their hearts and souls to creating sword formations and carving inscriptions, which is why it has the name "Sword Sect" today.
The treasure vault is not only a place to hide swords, but also the place where the soul of the sect resides.
Now, however, he personally handed the key to an old eunuch.
"A sinner..." Qingyizi murmured, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
With his eyes closed, he seemed to see the ancestral tablets of past masters silently gazing at him in the ancestral hall, their eyes filled with disappointment.
After a long while, Qingyizi slowly squatted down and grabbed a handful of loose soil from the herb garden. A few withered grass stalks were mixed in with the soil, cold and hard against his hand. He held it there until his palm ached from the thorns, then suddenly released it.
Dust particles slipped through his fingers and fell into the bottomless abyss of clouds.
"Enough... We've all become servants, what's the point of talking about shame!" The man in green smiled bitterly, stood up unsteadily, and staggered towards the courtyard.
His hunched back made him look ten years older.
By the time night completely enveloped the Qingyun Sect, Chen Fan had already changed his appearance.
He was still wearing that drab gray Taoist robe, and a simple illusion was cast on his face, making him look like the same warm-hearted Senior Brother Chen who liked to give away small spirit stones.
He was carrying a dim paper lantern and walking slowly along the path on the west side of the sect.
This road leads to the back mountain and the scripture pavilion, and few people travel on it after nightfall.
Ancient pines towered on both sides, their branches rustling in the night wind, occasionally accompanied by the mournful cry of owls from the depths of the forest.
The moonlight was obscured by the clouds, leaving only a few pale rays that barely illuminated the velvety moss in the cracks of the bluestone slabs beneath our feet.
Chen Fan walked steadily, his footsteps so light they were almost silent. He seemed to casually glance at the scenery along the way, but in reality, his divine sense had already spread out silently like mercury across the ground!
Within a radius of a hundred feet, the chirping of insects, the scurrying of ants, the falling leaves, and even the faint sounds of the night patrol disciples' clothes rubbing together in the distance were all clearly perceived by him.
This is an instinct honed through years of cautious living; even in familiar territory, one never lets one's guard down.
After passing through a bamboo grove, voices gradually came into view ahead.
Upon closer inspection, it was clear that several outer disciples were returning from the sword training ground together, loudly discussing their sword techniques and insights from the day.
Chen Fan stepped aside to avoid the shadows of a pine tree by the roadside, lowered his head, and lowered the lantern in his hand slightly. The group of people hurried past, glancing at the wooden badge at his waist and his simple clothes, assuming he was just a disciple returning late, and none of them stopped to ask him anything.
Only after the footsteps faded into the distance did Chen Fan resume his steps.
After another incense stick's time, the terrain gradually rose, and the buildings became sparser. A wide stone platform appeared in front, and behind the platform, a solitary peak rose abruptly from the ground, steep as a sword.
At the foot of the peak, a dark and imposing palace can be seen built against the mountain, its ancient and heavy structure and the flying eaves outlining a cold and hard silhouette in the night.
Two ever-burning glass lamps hang in front of the palace gate, their bluish-white flames illuminating a black iron plaque above the gate, inscribed with three large, bold characters!
Hidden Sword Pavilion!
This is the location of the Qingyun Sect's sword formation treasure vault.
Chen Fan stopped behind an old locust tree at the edge of the stone platform, extinguished his lantern, and focused his gaze intently. There were no ordinary disciples on duty in front of the hall gate, only four disciples dressed in black close-fitting clothes and with long swords at their waists standing on either side.
The four stood as straight as pine trees, their breaths refined and long, and their eyes gleaming. They were all at the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment. Moreover, their positions subtly resembled a certain formation, and their auras were faintly connected.
"Sword Guard..." Chen Fan understood.
The Qingyun Sect is founded on the sword, so the guards of the Hidden Sword Pavilion are naturally the elite of the elite. Four Foundation Establishment sword guards working together, along with the restrictions on the gate and possibly hidden sword formations, are enough to make ordinary Core Formation cultivators hesitate.
He didn't rush to act, but observed quietly. The night wind swept across the stone slab, swirling a few withered leaves around them.
The four sword guards remained motionless, only their robes occasionally fluttering slightly. The pale blue light from the glass lamps cast long, thin shadows on the tightly closed black iron gate, making them appear eerie and ghostly.
Time passes little by little.
As the moon rose high in the sky, the clouds gradually dispersed, and its clear light shone down, gilding the entire solitary peak with a silvery edge.
After waiting for a long time, Chen Fan couldn't contain himself any longer!
He moved.
A simple white paper figure, about the size of a palm, slid out from the sleeve. The paper figure was crudely cut, only having a human shape, but no mouth or eyes.
Chen Fan forced a drop of bright red blood from his fingertip and gently placed it on the paper figure's brow.
The moment the blood seeped in, the paper figure trembled slightly, a faint spiritual light rose on its surface, and then it floated up silently, skimming along the ground towards the west side of the Hidden Sword Pavilion.
That's the upwind position.
When the paper figure was still thirty feet away from the palace gate, Chen Fan's mind stirred slightly. The paper figure suddenly shone with a bright spiritual light, and at the same time emitted a faint but pure sword aura!
Sure enough, the four sword guards turned their heads almost simultaneously, their gazes shooting towards the paper figure like lightning!
"Who goes there?" the leading square-faced sword guard shouted in a low voice, his tone like the clang of metal on metal.
The four men simultaneously drew their longswords half an inch from their sheaths, a flash of cold light appearing.
The paper figure did not stop, but instead sped off into the western forest, causing a rustling sound of grass and leaves.
"Chase!" The square-faced sword guard made a decisive decision, leaving two men to guard the gate, while he and another tall, thin sword guard flashed out like two black lightning bolts.
They moved incredibly fast, disappearing into the forest in the blink of an eye.
Chen Fan had been waiting for this moment.
Just as the remaining two sword guards were still focused on the direction their companion had gone and their minds were slightly distracted, he made his move.
There was no earth-shattering fanfare, not even a whisper of wind.
He simply took a step behind that old locust tree. This seemingly ordinary step actually contained the mystery of shrinking the distance between people.
Ten zhang (approximately 33 meters) was covered in a single step.
When his figure solidified again, he was already pressed against the shadows on the east side of the Hidden Sword Pavilion, only three feet away from the Xuan Tie gate.
The whole process was so fast it felt like an illusion.
The two sword guards seemed to sense something, and suddenly turned around, a fierce glint flashing in their eyes.
Just as they were about to shout and their longswords were about to be fully drawn, Chen Fan silently pressed the cloud-patterned key from his sleeve onto an inconspicuous groove on the door.
"Click."
A very slight click of a mechanism. A bluish light shimmered on the key, instantly echoing the cloud-patterned array hidden on the door.
Ripples spread across the surface of the black iron gate, revealing a narrow opening just wide enough for one person to pass through.
Chen Fan's figure slid like smoke into the doorway.