Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 589: Revenge Must Be Taken Personally

Chapter 589: Revenge Must Be Taken Personally

…

“M-Master, won’t you go up and help Miss?”

It was the first time Liu Cui'e had ever seen a battle between cultivators.

When she was a child she had once witnessed martial artists fighting.

That was in a teahouse in town, where two wandering fighters brawled over a manual of martial arts.

They exchanged blows with sharp techniques: one used the Iron Sand Palm, the other employed Eagle Claw, fingers like steel hooks.

They overturned tables and kicked chairs, wood splintering, and the customers scattered to avoid the chaos.

That fight lasted half an hour; in the end both men were battered and bruised, panting as they separated, and the teahouse was left a wreck.

But now, watching a confrontation between Nascent Soul cultivators, she finally understood what a gulf “worlds apart” truly meant.

Inside the Golden Luang Hall, two figures crossed like lightning; every clash of blade and knife rang like metal striking metal.

Li Qingran wielded her three-foot green blade, cold sword qi swirling along the edge; each slash produced a shriek that rent the air and space itself. The other man swung a blood-red crescent saber, its blade like a blood moon—where its qi passed, even the hard white marble floor was carved into deep ruts.

Was this still a fight among humans? It was as if gods and demons were tearing the world apart!

Those dramatic moments were only what she occasionally caught with her eyes; most of the time they simply couldn’t keep up with the speeds of Li Qingran and Lingxiao Daoist.

She was shocked by the cultivation level of the fighters and worried that Li Qingran might be in danger.

After all, Lingxiao Daoist looked like an old man—aren’t old men usually stronger than younger men?

At least among martial artists, the old were typically more formidable—the idea hadn’t yet shifted in her mind.

“No need to intervene. This is Qingran’s own matter,” Chen Huaian said calmly. “Her enemy should be killed by her own hand.”

“Won’t Miss be in danger…?”

“Danger?” Chen Huaian sneered. “A trash who relied on external tools to reach the Nascent Soul stage isn’t enough to threaten Li Qingran. But I do need to make some preparations.”

On the Electronic Girlfriend’s large map, three red dots were approaching at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Small ones come first, then the bigger ones—this had become commonplace in the Cangyun Realm.

He flicked his finger lightly; there was a soft ‘pop’ as a ripple formed, vibrating the air. The ripple spread like concentric waves and instantly filled the Golden Luang Hall.

The ripples vanished in an instant, leaving no obvious trace as if nothing had happened.

Yet the space where Li Qingran and Lingxiao Daoist fought had already been completely sealed by the True Essence released from his finger—like an unbreakable membrane stretched over them.

Lingxiao Daoist was still thinking about escape, unaware that flying away was impossible.

…

Since the fighting began, Emperor Chu Zhao had been inching backward toward the rear chamber like a worm.

“Everyone’s attention is on Lingxiao Daoist and that woman—no one will notice me…”

He comforted himself with that thought.

“If I can get to the rear chamber… if I reach the rear chamber I can alert the imperial guards. Then those soldiers can stall, and I’ll slip away unnoticed!”

That girl had come for vengeance.

From the moment she spoke the names Li Zhennan and Wang Qingyue, Chu Zhao had realized it.

He could not have imagined the boomerang from ten years ago would strike him now.

Back then he had ordered both the Li and Wang families exterminated, cleaned out completely—how could a daughter possibly remain?

General Li Zhennan’s daughter—he had seen her before…

Lost in thought, suddenly—

Bang—!

Chu Zhao’s head slammed heavily into an invisible wall.

“What?!” He stumbled back, incredulous, reaching forward to feel the space.

There was nothing to see, but there was indeed a barrier there, as hard as iron and as cold as frost.

His heart faltered. He had been one step from the rear chamber; just past that screen, round the corner!

“No… impossible… impossible…” His hands trembled as he groped along the transparent wall, left to right, top to bottom.

Despair washed over him like a tidal wave—the barrier had completely sealed the exit from the rear chamber!

A moment ago he had been secretly elated, thinking fate had granted an escape route in the chaos.

Now it felt like falling from the clouds into an abyss; the drop was so crushing it nearly drove him mad.

“No! No!” He began to pound furiously on the invisible barrier with his fists. “Let me out! Let me out!”

His hands were beaten bloody, but the seal did not so much as ripple.

Chu Zhao collapsed to the floor, eyes full of hopelessness.

He finally understood—from the beginning, these two mysterious cultivators had never intended to let him leave alive.

His attempted flight had not escaped notice; instead, everything had been under their control.

He suddenly remembered a thrush a minister had gifted him earlier that year; the bird had been caged in two cages. At night, when no one watched, it squeezed through the inner cage so hard its head bled, only to find another finer cage outside preventing it from escaping—what difference was there now between him and that thrush?

In the hands of cultivators, he was but a plaything.

“Ten years… ten years…” Chu Zhao muttered, tears sliding down his cheeks. “I thought I had erased it. I thought no one would ever know…”

Retribution had come at last.

He glanced back at the furious duel inside the Golden Luang Hall. The girl’s figure slowly overlapped with the memory of the little girl who had once stood by the general’s side.

Back then she had been so small, clutching a wooden sword, eyes bright and defiant.

Now… now she had the strength to kill him.

Chu Zhao shut his eyes; his whole body trembled—not from cold, but from a despair that had settled into his bones.

No way out.

There was no escape anymore.

…

In front of the Golden Luang Hall, Li Qingran’s sword stance grew even fiercer. The tip of her blade spat three inches of frosty light, like a driving storm, pinning Lingxiao Daoist in place.

Her sword intent brimmed with hatred and rage; the cold sword qi cleaved and sliced. Several massive pillars in the hall snapped under the swordlight and collapsed with thunderous crashes.

Because of the sealing formation arranged by Chen Huaian, however, the Golden Luang Hall remained held up and showed no sign of falling.

“Blood for blood!” Li Qingran ground her teeth; her figure blurred into a residual image as her sword techniques became more savage.

The Su Xian Sword was no longer an object—it had become an extension of her overflowing hatred.

Each thrust and cut carried bone-deep killing intent, aimed at Lingxiao Daoist’s vital points.

Lingxiao Daoist grew increasingly alarmed as the duel went on.

Her swordsmanship seemed uncanny, as if it could predict his moves.

He tried to back away several times to use other divine arts, but each time the tenacious swordlight clung to him like a leech, allowing no escape.

“Damn you, I’ll go all out!”

His Master was already on the way; since escape was impossible, he resolved to buy time.

Lingxiao Daoist roared, raising his saber to block while his left hand secretly patted the storage pouch at his waist. A black banner unfurled, whipping in the wind.

In an instant, a mournful wind howled and countless pale, fanged ghostly figures screamed as they launched themselves forward to devour Li Qingran.

So he was an evil cultivator after all!

Li Qingran’s face darkened like still water. Her sword hummed; the swordlight exploded outward, transforming into thousands of concentrated silver threads that wove into a lethal web.

Where the silver threads passed, the rushing specters burned like snow meeting flame, instantly annihilated before they could even utter a wail.

“Impossible! What kind of sword technique is this?!”

Lingxiao Daoist’s departed soul shivered in terror.

The Shadow Banner had been a life-saving treasure given to him by his master. Its enclosed ghostly souls could be used only once and would directly attack a cultivator’s spirit. Not even Nascent Soul cultivators could easily handle such an attack—let alone someone at his level; even a Nascent Immortal would find it troublesome.

Yet the sword intent could even shred souls?!

“Dead things need not know.” Li Qingran’s voice was ice.

Before the words finished, she pushed off with her left foot; her form split the air like a white meteor—human and sword fused as she shot forward!

Sss—!

The swordlight flashed and was gone. Lingxiao Daoist only felt a coldness across his left shoulder—his entire arm had been sliced clean off at the root and flew up.

Blood spurted as if an ominous bell tolled at his ear.

“Stop!”

At that critical instant, a furious shout rang out outside the hall.

…