813: Chapter 509 Tonight, the Fad Jiu Xuan 813: Chapter 509 Tonight, the Fad Jiu Xuan Stars danced chaotically, dark clouds surged upward and curled back, as a tornado vortex silently took shape.
The world fell silent,
as if only the figure in billowing white robes and the sword in his hand remained.
One generation knows the affairs of their own ti.
The people of the present only knew of Changge of the Pri Minister’s Mansion, whose swordsmanship was renowned throughout the world, and all the heroes bowed their heads in recognition.
Yet, who rembered that there was a ti when the eldest son of the Feng Family had once dazzled the world with his three-foot Qing Feng sword?
But those years shone too brightly, many prodigies rose together, and Feng Jiuxuan was rely one among those stars, his brilliance overshadowed by the person beside him.
However, on this snowy night, the world once again saw why this man in white was bestowed with the title of Sword Saint.
All eyes converged upon him, to the point where they even forgot about another in the eye of the storm.
The Xi’en Emperor, gazing at the figure in the void, finally showed a trace of solemnity in his indifferent gaze.
The magical network he had woven began to collapse uncontrollably under the concentration of the other’s sword intent, spreading from the smallest twig to every corner of the spellbound ribbons.
As the sword in white began to rise slowly, all sounds of wind and snow hushed, and by the banks of Longping River, the creeks splashed ceaselessly against the painted boats, their prows lifted by the waves that threatened to capsize many vessels.
This was a power He had never seen before.
A power belonging to this ancient imperial dynasty known as Dayan.
The Xi’en Emperor’s heartbeat quickened for the first ti.
And this faint, almost inaudible change, was distinctly captured by Feng Jiuxuan.
According to his nephew,
cultivators from Xi’en didn’t release their Spellcraft through ridians, but through sothing called a “Magic Circle” that surrounded the heart.
Thus, upon hearing that accelerated heartbeat, Feng Jiuxuan felt a twinge of hesitation.
A rare opportunity to face the mightiest across the great ocean—if he could not witness his opponent at full strength, would it not be regretful?
But as this thought flitted by, Feng Jiuxuan still made his move.
He chose to respect his opponent.
Any rcy would be an insult to a strong adversary.
Therefore, he swung his sword.
As the swirling snow and clouds mirrored the storm’s eye, a crack started to form in the clouds above with the swing of his sword.
As the sword’s force descended,
the pure moonlight snuck through the parted clouds, accompanied by wisps of falling snow, casting a tranquil beauty over all.
This was a sword stroke.
And it was also a myriad of sword strokes, pure and perfect.
A gust of wind rushed forth—Xi’en Emperor’s waterfall-like golden hair shone against the sanctified light, as if surpassing the snow.
And in that mont,
He sensed the presence of sothing called death for the first ti in His life.
His heartbeat raced on.
It was His acceleration of the Magic Circle, as well as a physiological acceleration.
When one stands atop the pinnacle of the world for too long, when all people and things are within easy reach, the threshold for human desire climbs endlessly.
Until nothing in the world can stir one’s interest, the heart no longer surges; then, that person can no longer be called human.
The descending sword intent seed but a mont, yet also eternal, in His eyes.
The Xi’en Emperor’s godlike handso face rippled with emotion.
His thin lips curled into a smile, his eyes on the figure in white above the Sky Do sparkled with excitent.
“You are very strong,” said the Xi’en Emperor.
The mont His words spread, His heart rate reached its limit, as countless intricate spinning patterns affixed upon it lit up after a long absence.
Behind Him, four shadows, like bat wings or white wings, erged as a huge halo ring appeared, floating.
Then,
The Xi’en Emperor slowly raised His hand towards the descending sword.
He intended to catch this falling blade head on.
…
…
…
“Feng Jiuxuan has gone mad…”
Outside Di’an City, ringed by bamboo and the tinkling stream, snow scattered into the open-air pavilion next to the stream.
From there, the swordplay phenonon in the sky above the city could be seen.
Inside the desolate pavilion sat four figures, two seated, two standing, three n and one woman.
One of the seated was a middle-aged man with an imposing bearing, a natural air of superiority between his brows.
A woman stood behind him.
Her delicate features were quite attractive, especially her large eyes.
Aside from her stunning looks, what drew more attention were the two antler-like bulges on her forehead.
This revealed her identity.
Her black hair danced wildly, and at a glance, those “antlers” seed rather cute.
The girl’s playful eyes rolled around, lingering repeatedly upon the white-clothed man in the sky, her lips parting as if she wanted to speak.
But seeing the scrupulous figure of the man in front of her, she pouted and swallowed back her curiosity.
The Middle-aged man looked up at the phenonon in the Sky Do and spoke with a hint of emotion,
“If this sword stroke falls, I’m afraid a good portion of your Great Fla Imperial Capital will be destroyed.”
In contrast to his imposing deanor, the elderly man seated opposite (hunched over and appearing sowhat shady) with a goatee beard, kept twirling it in his hands.
Hearing the middle-aged man’s remark, he chuckled darkly,
“With the Protective City Formation, the array inside Di’an City has withstood a thousand years of iteration; it can certainly bear the thrashing about of Feng Jiuxuan and that Saint for a while.”
While the two conversed, a collision occurred in the sky above Di’an.
In the brilliance of the snowstorm, a silent wave spread outwards, the wind pressure sweeping through Di’an City’s closely packed streets and over the towering city walls, rolling out into the surrounding mountains and forests.
Reviews
All reviews (0)