Demon Sword Sect's Undercover

Xiao Man curled up in a corner of the ice crevice, crying pearly tears, but her heart remained exceptionally calm.

She may look like a mountain girl, but in fact, she has grasped some basic concepts during her six years at the Daoist academy. At the very least, she wouldn't view everything unfolding before her with the eyes of a mortal; she already possesses a trace of a cultivator's perspective, which is crucial.

However, she indeed couldn't sense the Pulse, which caused the cultivator who captured her to have the misconception that she was a genuine mortal. Naturally, for ordinary mortals, ordinary methods would suffice without much caution.

She was merely tossed in a place tens of feet away from that cultivator, neither bound nor her acupuncture points sealed. Such cold weather prevents controlling the vital points, and for mortals whose bodies lack the capacity, if blood circulation is obstructed, they would not survive even an hour before freezing to death.

She was warned to stay within sight, which was sufficient. To a mortal, a Golden Core cultivator is akin to an Immortal.

Xiao Man understood that she couldn't do anything besides exhibiting fear. She knew all too well the abilities of cultivators; they are entirely another species, unless this cultivator undergoes a change himself?

With timid observation, she perfectly displayed the mindset of a mortal—both terrified and helpless yet longing to escape—but she still maintained judgment in her heart.

This person wasn't a Sword cultivator, not only from what he wore but also from how he acted; Sword cultivators are considerate towards the mountain folk near Dushan and would not treat her this way.

Recently, a large number of cultivators have come to Dushan, said to be for some conference or the inauguration ceremony of the Sect Hierarch; this person's odd behavior undoubtedly indicated something. Although she couldn't guess what, it certainly wasn't anything good; otherwise, there would be no need to hide in an ice crevice, appearing afraid of being discovered.

Her first instinct was to notify the Sword Sect, but she couldn't do it; she didn't have a talisman for communication, nor could she escape, and no matter how anxious she was, she couldn't change anything—she could only wait, hoping for a fortunate turn.

During her studies at the Daoist Hall, her mentors praised her for her good mindset, saying she was the seed of a Sword Cultivator. However, mindset alone couldn't solve everything; without sensing the Pulse, it was pointless.

She kept moving, stomping her feet to maintain body temperature; even as adaptable as she was, she couldn't ensure survival in such weather outdoors for more than three hours, unless the cultivator provided some kind of warmth.

But this cultivator did not.

In the Cultivation World, she learned extensively about the relationship between cultivators and mortals in the school, understanding that typically, cultivators don't want to stain their hands with mortal lives, as it would be detrimental to their cultivation.

Yet this Daoist didn't care about her life or death, showing a complete indifference that forced her to consider the underlying cause?

It was unbearably cold, and to test things, she stealthily tried to escape along the ice crevice but was soon dragged back by a great force, harshly thrown back to her original spot.

"Run again, and I'll take your life!" the Daoist's cold, hard voice echoed.

Xiao Man wept softly, "I will freeze to death..."

The Daoist closed his eyes, remained silent with no reaction; thus, Xiao Man understood why—this Daoist must be afraid that providing any warming artifact to her, due to spiritual fluctuations, would attract attention from outside.

She was truly in danger now—unable to escape, unable to send a message, shouting deep in the ice crevice futile—and with her limited skills, she couldn't fathom any good method to resolve the present dilemma.

Is there no choice but a desperate gamble? But the problem is, given the current disparity in strength, even if she loses, the net won't break.

But she wouldn't resign herself to fate; even in death, she would fight tenaciously, even if it's just an attitude! This Daoist truly didn't care about her life; letting her freeze to death might have fewer causal ties than killing her directly?

Her gaze turned back to the Daoist, unable to restrain the hatred surging within, while the Daoist trembled under her angry glare.

It wasn't that she practiced some eye divine skills; rather... this guy must have encountered a problem himself?

Suppressing her wildly beating heart, Xiao Man observed carefully... the Daoist indeed was trembling, more and more violently, facial expression becoming twisted as if enduring great pain.

In his hand, he held a Stone Fetus, gripping it tightly, trembling uncontrollably, several times nearly dropping it, only to grab it back repeatedly.

Xiao Man's heart pounded, but she didn't choose to run away; instead, she bravely moved a few steps closer; this was what her mentor frequently praised her for—this girl had an innate adventurous spirit.

Could it be that the Daoist was intentionally feigning weakness to tempt her into making a mistake? She immediately ruled out this possibility; given the vast disparity in strength, dealing with a mere mortal like her wouldn't require such trouble—a mere thought suffices.

Then it must be a genuine problem encountered; otherwise, why would this person inexplicably hide here? There must be an unspeakable issue!

With a strategy forming in her mind, she knew now was the moment to decide her fate; turning away and fleeing was the simplest, and possibly safest, option, but then what? What's next after crawling out of the ice crevice, running dozens of miles along mountain paths? It would take at least a day or two with her current stamina—might she delay something?

Though she never joined the Sword Sect, the people from Dushan had a good perception of the sect. They have never bullied them; on the contrary, they care for them and even send abundant supplies during festivals.

Mountain folk are straightforward and value repaying kindness, but in ordinary times, how could they have the means to repay these flying cultivators?

Perhaps now is a chance!

She walked a few steps closer, now within reach of the Daoist; the Daoist still didn't react, trembling continuously. At this point, Xiao Man finally felt certain she could do something!

No cultivator would tolerate someone getting this close; the Daoist's lack of response showed he was self-occupied!

She didn't use the wooden stick in her hand, nor did she intend to wield the short blade at her waist, for her mentor had told them in the school, cultivators' physical structures are different, and mortal methods can't harm them—not even a sharp blade could pierce them.

She firmly remembered this point.

Then what should she do?

A simple principle is that what the opponent cares about is his weakness, even if it seems meaningless to mortals?

This Daoist now suffers indescribably yet clings to that Stone Fetus...

Xiao Man steeled her mind, moved forward, and when the Daoist's grip faltered, dragged the Stone Fetus back...

Upon losing the Stone Fetus, the Daoist let out an earth-shattering scream, and then visibly crumbled into dust, leaving nothing but scattered fragments.

Xiao Man herself was captivated by the Stone Fetus's power as if being electrified—suddenly, it wasn't cold anymore; rather, she felt extremely hot.

She couldn't describe this process nor comprehend what happened; she only knew that when she came to her senses, the Daoist was dusted, but her physical state was remarkably good, and she had tightly grasped the Stone Fetus.

She didn't greedily pick up the fragments, afraid of complications, just strapped the Stone Fetus to her back and rushed toward the rope.

She needed to notify Sect Hierarch elder brother, and hoped she wouldn't delay anything.