Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal?
Chapter 356: You Deserve to Die

Chapter 356: You Deserve to Die

Ren Wuchang was slightly shocked as he looked at the sword marks on the ground.

But as he carefully sensed the cultivation of the man before him, his surprise faded into disdain.

"Just a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator, and you dare to act tough in front of me?"

He gripped his Black Blade, slowly pulling it from the spider's skull, his eyes as sharp as knives.

"To have reached mid-stage Foundation Establishment on your own at this point in time, your talent isn’t bad. Why not come back with me to the Black Blade Sect? If you do, I’ll forget your little stunt of disrespecting me today."

Chen Huaian had seen rude and unreasonable recruitment methods before.

Sword Pavilion, for instance, wasn’t exactly gentle.

But no matter how unreasonable they were, they weren’t as thuggish as this so-called Sect Master of the Black Blade Sect.

Honestly, he was starting to think the guy was mentally unwell.

“Triple Egg, let’s go.”

For the sake of the fact that Ren Wuchang saved Lin Lingling’s life, Chen Huaian didn’t want to escalate things.

He turned slightly, waving his hand as he called Lin Lingling to leave with him.

But to Ren Wuchang, that move was pure provocation.

He couldn’t tolerate it any longer.

“You little brat—courting death!”

The wrinkles at the corners of Ren Wuchang’s eyes suddenly stretched wide, and a chilling bloodlust coated his razor-sharp gaze.

With a flick of his hand, blade light burst from the pitch-black scabbard, aiming straight for Chen Huaian’s back.

A good genius is an obedient genius.

Those who disrespect the strong would only bring disaster to their sect—

Better to send them to the King of Hell early!

“Governor, watch out!”

At Lin Lingling’s alarmed shout,

Chen Huaian’s silhouette, still with his back to Ren Wuchang, suddenly blurred.

The strike didn’t land.

Ren Wuchang couldn’t comprehend why.

Shouldn’t a Golden Core locking onto a Foundation cultivator be easy?

But in that half-second of confusion,

a new figure appeared beside him, standing at equal height.

“You saved her once. Now you try to kill This Venerable One.

We’re even now.

So… you still have a chance to leave.”

A breeze swept past.

Ren Wuchang saw a strand of hair float by—it was his own.

At some point he hadn’t even noticed, the man before him had drawn his sword—so fast, he couldn’t see it at all.

He should be cautious.

He should be afraid.

He should... retreat.

But his cultivation level gave him blind arrogance.

Combined with his boiling anger, his fear evaporated.

He shouted one word:

“Die—!”

Then drew his blade and slashed to the side.

A cold snort rang in his ear.

The gentle breeze suddenly turned into a storm.

The blurry sword light now transformed into a flurry of frost and snow, ripping through the dark night.

"Crack—"

Ren Wuchang staggered back several steps, eyes wide in shock as he stared at the figure holding a sword just ten feet away.

His wrist trembled.

Blood trickled from his palm.

His grip on the blade suddenly felt light.

Looking down, he saw half a broken blade at his feet.

That man had shattered his weapon with a single strike?

This wasn’t just any blade—

It was forged from meteoric iron using Ascender crafting methods, enhanced with rare materials absent in this modern era.

A top-tier spiritual tool.

To break a spiritual tool like that—only a Spiritual Artifact could do it.

Ren Wuchang stared at the sword in the man's arms.

It looked old and worn, covered in cracks like it had been crushed under boulders.

That sword broke his spiritual tool?

Impossible!

Everything about this man was off.

And now, that unease started crawling up Ren Wuchang’s spine.

By all logic, he should back down and seek payback later.

But then—

The man gripped his hilt and sheath.

He raised his head, and his aura suddenly spiked.

A killing intent as cold as ink-black night rushed forth,

like a giant icy hand clutching Ren Wuchang’s heart.

"You’ve tried to kill This Venerable One twice now."

The man’s form flickered in the wind—ungraspable.

But his voice rang out with perfect clarity:

“You. Deserve. To Die.”

This time, Ren Wuchang saw it clearly—

The man hadn’t drawn his sword.

But behind him appeared the phantom of a white-haired elder.

The elder reached into the sword case on his back and drew two swords.

The swords were strange—one bright, one dark.

As they slashed upward, wide and sweeping, they seemed to draw the night itself into the sword qi.

Solid and ethereal, two arcs of sword light crisscrossed in an X-shape, instantly appearing before him.

They were just two streaks of sword light.

But Ren Wuchang felt like he was caught in a storm of a thousand blades.

They looked easy to dodge.

But he felt like no matter where he ran—even underground—

swords would find him.

He had no choice.

He raised his broken blade to block, poured spiritual energy through his muscles,

and hoped his Golden Core-stage protective aura would hold up.

He’d trained with the blade since childhood, believing that under the Golden Core stage, no one could match his swordsmanship.

But how could he understand the sword intent of a Mahayana cultivator?

Especially one like Zhang Yibai,

who only grasped his Reincarnation Sword Intent at the brink of death,

after three thousand years of cultivation.

This strike carried three thousand years of experience,

three thousand years of insight,

three thousand years of painful contemplation.

A mere Golden Core couldn’t block it.

Chen Huaian watched silently as the Black Blade Sect Master stood frozen.

Killing someone at early Golden Core normally required him to use Heavenly Demon Art and Dragon Form.

But with Ascenders observing from a distance, those methods weren’t wise—too messy, too conspicuous.

Thankfully, he had Sword Elder now.

Even as a remnant soul, Zhang Yibai’s Mahayana sword intent, just a sliver,

was enough to crush a Golden Core.

Ten feet away, the light in Ren Wuchang’s eyes faded.

His hair turned gray at a speed visible to the naked eye.

His sturdy skin sagged into age.

His strong bones grew brittle.

Then, with a breeze—

he turned to ash.

Only a pile of yellow dust remained on the ground.

“Holy sh*t! Governor, that was badass!”

Lin Lingling had watched the whole thing from the side, and now she gave a huge thumbs-up.

She hadn’t followed most of it—just saw that Chen Huaian made one smooth move,

and that terrifying old creep was wiped off the map.

Chen Huaian smacked her thumb down with a slap, frowning.

Fake-smiling, he said,

“Lin Lingling. You’ve improved, huh? Came out here to fight monsters without your Sword Sphere?”

Her face froze.

She gave a nervous chuckle, eyes darting away as she whispered,

“Didn’t you say cultivators should rely less on external tools...? I-I was just trying to become the strong, independent, and charismatic kind of cultivator you talked about…”

“Bullsh*t! This Venerable One said don’t rely, not don’t bring!”

Chen Huaian jabbed her forehead.

“Like to show off, huh? Fine! I’ll let you show off to your heart’s content!”

“When we get back, you’ll carry 1000 boxes of Sword Spheres and run 500 laps around the C Province Exorcist Division’s training ground—

And shout ‘I’m a dumb egg!’ the whole way!”

Lin Lingling’s face instantly went pale.

The grin vanished.

Chen Huaian finally felt satisfied.

When he extended his divine sense again—

he noticed that the Ascenders who’d been watching from the rooftop were gone.

“What kind of shady crap are these people up to…”

Chen Huaian narrowed his eyes.

Ever since he learned he couldn’t ascend,

he’d started seeing all Ascenders through a villain filter.

Something about them always felt shady—like they were up to no good.

…

…