Chapter 91: The Crane's Cry Pierces the Ninth Heaven

At the heart of White Sand Islet, a dense mist veiled all, shrouding everything within a mile in hazy obscurity.

Suddenly, a rumble shook the ground, as if some monstrous thing was about to burst forth from beneath the earth. In the next instant, fountains erupted—eight thick columns of water, each as wide as a well and a hundred yards long, shot skyward. Like giant whips, they lashed toward Jiang Chen with immense force.

Sensing the sudden transformation, Jiang Chen was about to ride the wind aloft when Luo Qiao appeared. He strode upon the waves, rising high, and, like a fisherman casting his net, hurled forth his artifact—the Hundredfold Mesh.

Blood stained Luo Qiao’s lips; his robes were torn in several places, clear evidence of the wounds he’d suffered from taking the Xuan Killing Finger head-on. Yet he had seized that chance to break free of his restraints by virtue of his formidable inner energy.

A hum—spiritual light blossomed as the Hundredfold Mesh unfurled, blotting out the sky and cutting off any path of retreat for Jiang Chen. It was too late to change direction; the eight water-whips were already descending, and this was the killing move Luo Qiao had prepared: the Eightfold Water Prison.

Confronted with this sudden turn, many faces among the onlookers changed. Even those outside the arena felt the terror of Luo Qiao’s move. Liao Yonghuai himself showed a look of surprise—he hadn’t suspected Luo Qiao possessed such a hidden card, kept so deeply concealed. Yet Jiang Chen alone remained calm.

Whip shadows struck again and again, each blow carving deep scars in the ground, shattering rocks with ease, leaving Jiang Chen no choice but to avoid their edge.

“Jiang Chen, I know not the measure of your swordplay, but if you do not draw your blade now, there will be no more chances.”

From his vantage above, watching as Jiang Chen’s space for movement shrank, Luo Qiao’s eyes glinted coldly. But he was met only by Jiang Chen’s tranquil, indifferent gaze.

“As you wish.”

Energy surged through Jiang Chen as he swept his sleeve.

In the next moment, a flash of white darted forth, swift as a spirit-fish, weaving through all directions. Instantly, the eight water-whips were severed at the waist, their force utterly spent. But this was not the end. With a subtle gesture, Jiang Chen’s sword-light—manifested from the Crane Cry Immortal Needle—shot out like a dragon leaping from the sea, aimed straight at Luo Qiao.

Alarmed by this reversal, Luo Qiao’s expression changed dramatically. Drawing on years of combat experience, he instinctively tried to recall the Hundredfold Mesh and bolster his defenses. But just then, sword-light blazed—a crane’s cry pierced the clouds, echoing across White Sand Islet. For a fleeting moment, all present seemed to see an immortal crane soaring into the sky, its graceful bearing suffused with ethereal aura, leaving them momentarily entranced.

As the crane’s cry rang in his ears, Luo Qiao’s consciousness wavered and grew dim.

In that instant, the sword-light—like a dancing crane—passed effortlessly through the Hundredfold Mesh and pierced Luo Qiao’s protective energy.

“A net of a hundred meshes must have a flaw. If you had remained cautious, defending yourself steadily, it would have been far more troublesome for me—at least, it would have taken much longer.”

Knowing the outcome was sealed, Jiang Chen’s killing intent ebbed. Just then, Luo Qiao’s mind shook free of the crane’s cry.

“What a swift sword—the name ‘Sword Immortal of the Flying Rainbow’ is truly no exaggeration…”

His consciousness fading, Luo Qiao forced his gaze downward. He looked much the same as before, save for a single red mark at the center of his brow.

“I have lost…”

As his vision blurred, Luo Qiao saw Longwind County, saw his younger self, saw the disciple he valued most. When his disciple died and the Fisher Spirit Sect was destroyed, he should have perished then. Only his lingering resentment and hatred had kept him going, making him afraid to die.

“So be it. So be it…”

With a hint of release, a touch of relief, Luo Qiao’s awareness sank into darkness.

A moment later, his spell unraveled, and he fell headlong from the crest of the waves.

“Go in peace.”

With a soft sigh, Jiang Chen flicked his sleeve and a gentle breeze bore Luo Qiao’s body aloft.

Witnessing this, all on White Sand Islet fell silent. Ordinary folk were dazed by the vision of the dancing crane, while those with discernment felt a chill—the memory of that sword-light branded itself on their hearts, filling them with dread.

Most, under the influence of the crane’s cry, did not even understand how Luo Qiao died. As if in a dream, the formidable cultivator who just moments ago wielded such power had fallen still and lifeless. If Luo Qiao, a cultivator of this level, could die so swiftly and mysteriously, what hope had they? How could they not be afraid?

“To slay a mid-stage cultivator with a single sword—such deadly prowess…”

In the center of the grandstand, witnessing Luo Qiao’s fall, even Liao Yonghuai felt a twinge of wariness toward Jiang Chen.

As the magistrate of Qinghe County, he was well aware of Taiping Sect’s maneuvers and had always scoffed at Jiang Chen’s reputation as the Sword Immortal of the Flying Rainbow, dismissing it as empty boasting. But today, he had to admit—Jiang Chen’s sword was extraordinary.

Seeing Luo Qiao fall to a single stroke, Lu Xuanping was momentarily transfixed. He recalled the day he presented Jiang Chen with the Qi-Boosting Pill, asking how confident he was in this duel, and Jiang Chen merely smiled in silence.

At the time, Lu Xuanping thought Jiang Chen was uncertain, perhaps only half-confident. But now he realized it was utter confidence, unspoken.

“With such a sword, it seems you truly held back when contending with my third uncle.”

Lost in thought, Lu Xuanping pondered much as Jiang Chen collected Luo Qiao’s corpse.

“The path of immortality is lonely, with many bones left behind…”

Glancing at the crowd and feeling the drain of his energy, Jiang Chen lost all interest in remaining.

But just as he was about to leave, Lu Xuanping, almost involuntarily, called out.

“Daoist brother, may I ask—what is the name of that sword technique?”

His words were urgent, tinged with excitement.

Hearing this, Jiang Chen paused.

“Crane’s Cry Soaring to the Ninth Heaven.”

He turned, left those four words, and drifted away—he had other matters to attend to. As for the name, he’d merely made it up on the spot.

“Crane’s Cry Soaring to the Ninth Heaven—how fitting…”

Watching Jiang Chen depart, recalling the mesmerizing sword, Lu Xuanping thought the name could not be more apt. At the moment of the crane’s cry, sword-light swept forth, enemies fell—what exhilaration, what true sword-immortal spirit.

“Such is a true Sword Immortal.”

“With Taiping Sect guarding us, with Immortal Jiang wielding his blade, the people of Qinghe County are truly blessed.”

Returning to their senses, most present broke into smiles. Jiang Chen’s victory cemented Taiping Sect’s position, and they shared in the honor. Those with ulterior motives found their schemes cut down by that sword and could only join in the collective cheer.