Sword Tomb 3

Easier said than done—couldn’t Tang Yueling at least let her off before charging into the fray?

Su Qing watched helplessly as the golden phoenix sped up, hurtling toward the clashing Tianning and Daozi.

Tang Yueling, low on spiritual energy, pulled ten radiant top-grade spirit stones from her storage pouch and slammed them into the artifact’s core.

Fueled by the stones, the phoenix screeched, erupting in blazing light. It tucked its wings and spun like a drill, diving downward.

Su Qing felt like she was trapped in a washing machine, her organs jostled. She wanted to scream or vomit, but the wind choked her silent.

In the chaos, glinting sword tips loomed larger in her vision.

Her intrusion turned the battle messier. Tianning and Daozi turned in unison, their eerily similar faces—identical inky eyes—locking onto them.

A chilling killing intent hit from both sides. Su Qing could only pray she wouldn’t die under their blades.

She hadn’t wanted to wade into this mess, but events had spiraled beyond her control.

“Hand over the Xuejin Sword!” Tang Yueling pressed the phoenix’s helm, sweeping its tail feathers to halt the duo.

Tianning dodged sideways; Daozi leapt skyward. Instead of retreating, both thrust their swords forward.

Two fierce sword qi blasts shot from either side toward the phoenix.

Unfazed, Tang Yueling sacrificed ten more spirit stones.

Instantly, countless golden feathers burst from the phoenix, raining in all directions like arrows, each carrying immense force. Though small, together they matched the sword qi’s power.

The blasts shattered before reaching them, and Su Qing exhaled in relief.

But a second and third wave of sword qi followed—

Tang Yueling tried the same trick, but the phoenix’s feathers couldn’t be recalled, and no more remained to block. No amount of spirit stones could help now.

Frustrated, she pounded her fist. “My cultivation’s too low for this lousy Foundation Establishment artifact. If I had Father’s Cloud-Soaring Dragon Boat, who could stop me?”

Su Qing muttered, “Maybe we should leave…”

“Leave? No way!”

Tang Yueling yanked three spiritual hairpins from her head and flung them. They connected, forming three transparent shields, blocking attacks from the left, right, and rear.

Bang—

The sword qi was stopped, but the hairpins cracked after a few hits, and the shields vanished. Tang Yueling pulled a golden crossbow from her pouch, hooked the string, and unleashed a storm of silver arrows.

“Take this!”

Daozi blocked with a sword array, creating a vacuum around him.

Tianning, chased by arrows, retreated, then countered with her sword. The Xuejin Sword, perfectly suited to her ice spiritual root, froze the arrows on contact, sending them crashing powerlessly.

Tang Yueling hadn’t expected her prized artifact to be countered so easily, her movements faltering. She summoned a spiritual bell for defense, but Tianning and Daozi spotted the opening.

Two sword qi blasts struck simultaneously—

The phoenix wailed under the pincer attack, its wings clipped.

Su Qing felt the world twist, her bones creaking under pressure.

She couldn’t take it—her mortal body wasn’t tempered like Tang Yueling’s or Tianning’s.

Crawling toward Tang Yueling, she hissed, “Let’s go, regroup!”

“I know!” Tang Yueling hammered the battered phoenix, urging it to move.

The crippled artifact wobbled into flight.

At that moment, Daozi unleashed a sword—not qi, but the blade itself, aimed at the phoenix’s vital mechanism.

If it hit, the phoenix would disintegrate midair.

No!

Tang Yueling couldn’t redirect it with spiritual energy. She yanked the helm, but her strength only exposed the vital spot further—

Su Qing lunged, grabbing the helm. The artifact’s shaking and her unsteady footing sent half her body dangling off, held only by her grip.

Her full weight on the helm forced it to jerk sharply.

The phoenix veered, dodging the sword.

It grazed past, embedding an inch into the cliff behind, its hilt still quivering.

“Lethal—” Tang Yueling, drenched in sweat, gasped. “We dodged it!”

But Su Qing was still dangling below.

If she died, Tang Yueling’s rescue would’ve been for nothing.

With Tang Yueling’s help, Su Qing clambered back onto the trembling phoenix, soaked in sweat, her arms aching and limp. She’d never managed a pull-up before, yet she’d hung by her arms for nearly two minutes.

Truly, humans tap infinite potential facing death.

They were now over ten meters from the main fight—safe, for now.

But Tang Yueling, ever the troublemaker, asked, “What’s this regroup plan you mentioned?”

She still wanted the Xuejin Sword.

Not out of need—with her Tang Clan wealth, she could have any pretty sword. But she’d bragged to Tang Xueshan and the others, and losing face was unacceptable.

“Well…” Su Qing had blurted it in panic, but an idea formed. “Each person gets one sword. Help Tianning get the Free Sword, and the Xuejin Sword’s free.”

Tang Yueling’s face crumpled. “What? Pick up her scraps?”

“And why help her? She’s so rude!”

She hadn’t forgotten Tianning’s cold shoulder on day one—a humiliating slight.

What’s wrong with scraps?

Su Qing thought: I’m here, in this mess, to adopt heartbroken, homeless swords.

Free is best, no matter if it’s someone’s castoff.

She’d take it gladly.

“No way.” Tang Yueling, swallowing her pride, prepared to rejoin the fight.

This time, Su Qing spoke up. “Then let me off first—I’ll only hold you back.”

Her tact outshone Tianning’s. Tang Yueling, though grumpy, wasn’t offended. “Think I can’t protect you?”

Su Qing said earnestly, “It’s me. Mortal flesh.”

The phoenix, battered beyond repair, could barely fly. Tang Yueling piloted it upward, seeking a safe spot to land and switch artifacts.

But whether by intent or not, Daozi’s dodged attack—evaded by Tianning—struck the phoenix.

It couldn’t hold, plummeting with both girls.

Tang Yueling wailed, “This lunatic can’t even aim? If you won’t hit your sister, don’t hit at all!”

Su Qing: “Aaaah!”

Her bad luck was off the charts today.

Then, a blood-red sword shadow flashed from nowhere, slicing into the falling phoenix.

The red rusty sword!

Its hilt flicked impatiently, flinging Su Qing out. With elegant poise, it caught Tang Yueling.

Su Qing screamed midair: Really? You couldn’t catch one more person?

She was sure the rusty sword could’ve—it just didn’t want to.

As the ground neared, despair deepened. But heaven took pity—a force halted her fall. Someone grabbed her collar, setting her on a sword.

Shaken, she looked up: Tang Jiu, an acquaintance.

Her plain bamboo sword had saved her.

Furious and dizzy, Su Qing pointed at the rusty sword circling with Tang Yueling. “It rejected me!”

Tang Jiu said helplessly, “Not very honorable, but it’s the 198th-ranked Red Rust Sword. Divine swords have their own tempers.”

Regaining her senses, Su Qing realized she stood on a sword barely four fingers wide, floating midair, carrying two people. Her fear of heights surfaced.

Tang Jiu, noticing her panic, gently descended closer to the ground.

Calming down, Su Qing eyed the jade-like bamboo sword. “Thank you for saving me. You’ve already bonded with a fitting sword?”

“It’s called Bamboo Harmony,” Tang Jiu said. “Not a ranked divine sword, but it suits me perfectly. It came to me the moment the Tomb opened.”

Su Qing envied her. “So why are you here?”

“Have you heard of the journalism club? It’s a student group that gathers campus news for reports. No? Surely you’ve heard of the confession wall. Long story short, Senior Wei Yue, a second-year, invited me to join. I’m here to cover the fight, report breaking news for the campus paper, and, of course, post to the confession wall…”

Su Qing glanced at Tang Jiu’s simple attire, then at the sword-flying crowd.

She calmly questioned her own ears.

Who’s the transmigrator here?