In a world where only the grandmasters reign supre, today before my eyes, a fight unfolds. Lin Qiaofu realized that although she had read nurous books, at this mont, they were utterly useless. Each combatant executed their moves with simplicity at its utmost: one sword, one finger.
Yet this simplicity was unspeakably terrifying.
Now, Old Lu and his companion Tai Shu Jian were tied up by two masters from the Wen Family, Wang Anfeng was severely injured and exhausted, his combat strength uncertain, and their biggest reliance was entangled by Pei Danding, the renowned Sword Saint who had enjoyed fa across the land for dozens of years.
This overly perfect counterasure arrangent made her feel unease in her heart.
After calming her mind, the normally gentle Lin Qiaofu turned back and softly suggested to Lv Baiping that they should rendezvous with Wang Anfeng. Lv Baiping looked up at the Mount Jade, where Sword Qi crisscrossed everywhere, pursed her lips, and, without saying much, nodded solemnly.
With a diagonal upward slash, Qianshan Si turned and retreated.
At that mont, his body had already been pierced by several swords, yet his enveloping Sword Intent escalated, ascending step by step as if climbing a ladder to heaven.
Earlier at Sanshan Pavilion, Hong Luoyu had spoken of his swordsmanship being refined to a wisp of Sword Intent, a level that could even challenge the Heavenly Sect. Now, enhanced by his encounter with Gong Yu, his Sword Intent grew even sharper.
Gong Yu's slightly elongated Matched Sword brushed past the sword in Qianshan Si's hand, striking sword against sword, emitting a burst of Sword Qi that sliced through the air and soared aloft.
The Sword in Gong Yu's hand grew colder.
It seed as if, in an instant, a thousand autumns' snow had condensed upon that three-foot Qingfeng blade. In this mont between Heaven and Earth, the chill was piercing. Ice and frost gathered between Gong Yu's fingers, spiraling into a blizzard, swooping down like a sword edge, slashing horizontally at Qianshan Si.
The visibly sweeping Sword Intent transford into a pale storm across the sky, freezing and turning the mists within tens of miles into falling snow. Though nearly sumr, the snowstorm she conjured was imnse, bitterly cold, and piercing.
Around them, each snowflake carried a strand of sharp Sword Intent, turning the otherwise soft, romantic snowfall into an overwhelming barrage of fierce longswords from the heavens.
In an instant, Qianshan Si's plain clothes were slashed apart, nurous cuts etched across them.
His blood, thick and crimson, stained his clothes in an instant.
Amid the snow, the whiteness made the blood appear even more strikingly vivid and shocking.
Gong Yu held her sword diagonally, not yet making the killing move, but her voice was bone-chillingly cold as she said:
"Step aside."
Qianshan Si smiled, his eyes as bright as stars, and said:
"At this mont, we yet can't determine the victor. Why the hurry? Or has Miss Gong Yu already decided you are above ?"
Gong Yu's voice was icy as she asked, "What are you here for?"
"I'm with those below."
Qianshan Si smiled, a refined and cultured air about him.
"For the sword."
He raised his sword, his aura becoming sharper, like a fla fervently burning even in harsh winter. The Sword Intent showed not a single hint of damage, but instead grew purer. He then smiled and said:
"Beyond a thousand mountains, there are still a thousand mountains, Miss Gong Yu."
"Qianshan Si today shall challenge the Heavenly Sect with a single sword."
Sword Intent soared, scattering the wind and snow.
The old man who had lost one arm and leg changed his expression from mockery and disdain to much more solemnity, reaching subconsciously for his hip flask, touching nothing but air, then murmured:
"To spend ten years practicing swordsmanship, to nurture the sword with thousands of battles over three years, all these thirteen years never retreating, never slacking, just for today's sword strike?"
"To challenge the Heavenly Sect with a single sword, brave boy, quite audacious."
After a pause, he added, "Crazier than what I thought."
Xie Shan was stunned and said:
"Thirteen years? All for this one sword strike?"
The old man impatiently smacked Xie Shan on the forehead and irately said, "I told you to watch properly. Why the hell are you talking back? Just watch, this scene is much more interesting than I thought. Don't miss it."
"Just watch these two above. Don't look at the one playing with the sword below; you'll ruin your understanding. Don't look at the one using his fingers either; it will screw you up even more."
"But the old man's swordsmanship below seems even simpler, right?"
"Simple? He uses the sa set of swordsmanship over and over, but every ti it's different, and though it's different every ti, it is indeed the sa set of swordsmanship, and this set has indeed blossod."
"And the Finger Technique?"
"Heh, the Finger Technique is even more formidable. It's mixed with more than seventeen different Martial Arts styles. You're so slow, you definitely can't learn it."
Xie Shan stuck out his tongue in astonishnt and said:
"Seventeen styles? Such formidable Martial Arts, I definitely can't learn."
The old man scoffed disdainfully and said:
"Formidable? I've never seen such crappy Martial Arts before, shitty as hell."
"Ah? But, doesn't it seem very formidable?"
The old man replied:
"Yes, but Martial Arts are about the person. This set of Martial Arts is trash, but this person is strong."
"Let tell you, if you don't cultivate properly, with that person's speed below, just poking with his little finger could kill you like a dead dog, without even breaking a sweat."
"That's how crappy the Martial Arts are. If the speed isn't up to a certain level, it's just lowest-tier, like a mishmash of arts. If the speed is there, it's like facing a multiple high-level masters' coordinated attack, impossible to defend against."
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