Jian Wudi drew his sword once more. As the blade swept through the air, a golden light flashed across the dim night sky. For that instant, the long night suddenly became as bright as day. Then, the three short swords at his waist also flew from their scabbards, hovering around him. Golden light flowed along their blades, seeming ready to strike at Su Muyu at any moment.
Su Muyu had also drawn his sword. A cool breeze swept through the courtyard, and everyone felt a slight chill—a welcome sensation in the stifling heat of midsummer night. Xu An touched his cheek and said softly, “It feels like it’s raining.”
Ge Xiu looked up and furrowed his brow slightly. “No, it isn’t.”
Two sword energies clashed.
The golden sword energy instantly devoured Su Muyu’s sword energy, but in the next moment, Su Muyu’s figure vanished from where he stood. Jian Wudi withdrew his long sword, hesitated for only a second, and then suddenly spun around. Su Muyu had appeared behind him, already swinging his sword.
Jian Wudi saw water droplets splash from the blade as it cut through the air.
“Excellent sword!” Jian Wudi shouted. The three short swords hovering around him flew out to meet Su Muyu’s strike.
Below, Su Changhe and Su Zhe, who were locked in their battles, turned their heads, both showing traces of astonishment. Su Changhe muttered, “It seems you’ve truly met a worthy opponent, for you to use your ultimate sword technique.”
The three short swords were knocked away by the sword energy when they were still three feet from Su Muyu. His blade continued its path toward Jian Wudi’s face.
At that moment, as Jian Wudi watched the approaching sword, a long-dormant emotion stirred in his heart.
If Jian Wudi’s sword was the purest sword Su Muyu had ever seen, then Su Muyu’s sword was the most complex one Jian Wudi had ever encountered.
The sword intent contained too many emotions—resentment, anger, forbearance, compromise, killing intent, gentleness… This single strike encompassed almost every emotion a person could possess.
What experiences had shaped this person to deliver such a complex stroke?
Yet when the sword finally fell, all these emotions seemed to settle into tranquility.
Like rain falling after thunder and lightning.
After the rain, everything returns to peace.
Jian Wudi immediately countered with his strike. The light from this swing was even brighter than the previous one, so brilliant that the people below had to shield their eyes.
Jian Wudi’s earlier words weren’t mere boasting—each sword strike after his emergence from seclusion would be stronger and more dominant than the last.
A thunderous “BOOM” rang out.
But it was just two swords colliding.
The golden light vanished, and Su Muyu fell from the sky. Su Changhe’s eyes flickered slightly before he cast out a puppet string, catching him. Su Muyu stumbled as he landed, now swordless. He gave a bitter smile, looked up, and reached out to catch his falling sword.
Su Changhe raised an eyebrow. “Did you lose?”
Su Muyu shook his head. “I won.”
“That’s troubling,” Su Changhe sighed softly.
“Extremely troubling,” Su Muyu said gravely.
The others listened in confusion—if they had won, why was it troubling?
As the final remnants of golden light dispersed, Jian Wudi remained standing on the eaves, still gripping his sword, but with his eyes tightly shut. He asked slowly, “That sword technique just now was excellent. Tell me its name.”
“Yu Shi (Rain Force),” Su Muyu replied.
Jian Wudi nodded. “You won that exchange. I call myself Invincible Sword, yet my first strike after emerging from seclusion ended in defeat.”
“Do swordsmen care about winning and losing? I only care about life and death,” Su Changhe said coldly. “You’re not dead yet, so I don’t consider this a victory.”
“But after that last exchange, I’ve gained new insight. With this new sword technique, you will certainly lose,” Jian Wudi said deeply.
“Let’s switch places. I don’t use a sword anyway. Whether he’s gained insight or not, I’ll beat him until he can’t stand,” Su Changhe was about to step forward when Golden Axe’s blade flashed before his eyes. He barked, “Su Muyu, you handle this Dian Ye.”
Su Muyu shook his head. “Let me try again.”
On the eaves, Jian Wudi opened his eyes. His pupils had turned a flowing golden color, appearing terrifyingly strange. Those eyes rotated slowly, and it was unclear whether they could see clearly or not. He waved his sword and took a deep breath. “None of you will escape.”
“As expected…” Su Changhe’s mouth twitched slightly.
Su Muyu sighed softly. “Pure sword intent is rare in this world. But when anything reaches its absolute extreme with no way back, extreme good becomes extreme evil, extreme evil becomes extreme good, and extreme light becomes darkness. He… has fallen into demonic deviation.”
“If falling into demonic deviation can make my sword stronger, why shouldn’t I embrace it?” Jian Wudi asked.
“If you don’t turn back and continue using your sword this way, within a year, your sword intent will backfire. All your meridians will rupture, and you’ll die,” Su Muyu sighed. “My father was also obsessed with the sword, but he never neglected his family or the city’s people. One can treat the sword as important, but it shouldn’t become everything.”
“People will betray you, but a sword never will.” Jian Wudi raised his sword. “Die. You cannot block this strike.”
“Damn it.” Su Muyu wanted to raise his sword in defense, but his previous technique “Yu Shi” had consumed too much of his spirit. To strike again, he needed sufficient time to recover.
Su Changhe wanted to act, but Dian Ye, together with the Poison Maiden, combining Golden Axe with deadly poison, weren’t fighting to win but to contain him, which was genuinely troublesome.
At the city gate, Xie Xuan watched the direction of the Gate of Longevity, where golden light would flash and then fade, then flash again, making his brow furrow deeply. The carriage driver beside him looked in that direction and asked, “Has a fire broken out over there?”
“A blazing fire that illuminates the sun and moon,” Xie Xuan suddenly thrust out his hand. The swords lying beside the fallen people around them began to vibrate intensely. Then Xie Xuan drew the sword at his waist—Wan Juan Shu (Ten Thousand Books). The swords flew toward him. His carriage driver quickly ducked under the carriage, covering his head. Xie Xuan swung Wan Juan Shu, deflecting the flying swords one after another.
The swords shot toward the Gate of Longevity.
“Friend of the Su family, I am trapped here and cannot fight alongside you,” Xie Xuan called out in a clear voice. “Let these flying swords help you as much as they can!”