Xiao Ruofeng raised his hand, and the Haoque sword responded instantly. He swung it forward, clashing with Su Changhe’s dagger. Su Changhe stumbled back three steps while Xiao Ruofeng’s robes fluttered gently before settling. He let out a long breath, “It’s been a while since I’ve fought within Tianqi City.”
Mu Qingyang removed the peach wood sword from his back, holding it vertically before his face while muttering something under his breath. A streak of light suddenly flashed across the blade.
The single Su Changhe before Xiao Ruofeng suddenly became three.
“So the people of Dark River know Daoist arts as well?” Xiao Ruofeng’s tone remained unperturbed.
“As long as it kills, it doesn’t matter if it’s Buddhist, Daoist, or Confucian—yours, mine, or theirs—all methods are good methods.” The dagger in Su Changhe’s hand danced in intricate patterns, instantly reducing the wine table in front of Xiao Ruofeng to splinters before the blade work targeted him, each strike aimed at vital points.
Xiao Ruofeng kept retreating, his figure almost completing a circuit of the carved pavilion, yet he still hadn’t struck back with his sword.
“Your Highness won’t draw your sword—are you trying to buy time?” Su Changhe sneered.
Xiao Ruofeng shook his head. “I’ve simply forgotten how to strike with my sword.”
“Forgotten?” Su Changhe’s brow furrowed slightly as his dagger sliced through Xiao Ruofeng’s sleeve.
Xiao Ruofeng continued backing away: “I once had a sword technique called ‘Third Under Heaven.’ Because my master Li Changsheng had one called ‘Second Under Heaven,’ implying I was second best—who would dare claim to be first?”
“So your ‘Third Under Heaven’ means that after Master Li from the academy, the way of the sword rests with you.” Su Changhe laughed, “I should have switched with that fellow, let him kill you instead.”
“But I can’t execute that technique any more. I remember the joy of creating it, the grandeur of wielding it, but when I raise my sword now, I feel only emptiness, and the Haoque sword doesn’t respond to me.” Xiao Ruofeng’s tone remained calm, seemingly unconcerned about his dangerous situation.
“Haoque is just a sword.” Su Changhe had the upper hand, and with Mu Qingyang’s secret technique, his three shadows were gradually closing off Xiao Ruofeng’s chances of survival.
“Famous swords have spirits.” Xiao Ruofeng sighed softly, then leaped into the air, closing his eyes.
Su Changhe started—in that instant, Xiao Ruofeng’s aura suddenly changed. A powerful pressure descended, causing the peach wood sword in Mu Qingyang’s hand to begin trembling violently.
Not good! Su Changhe mentally exclaimed, immediately launching himself toward Xiao Ruofeng.
But Xiao Ruofeng had already raised his sword.
“In my heart, there is no longer any ‘Third Under Heaven,'” Xiao Ruofeng’s long sword descended. “There is only… Heaven.”
The sword light flashed like a rainbow piercing the sun.
Mu Qingyang coughed up a mouthful of blood, his peach wood sword falling to the ground and crumbling to dust, scattered like smoke by the sword wind.
But Su Changhe didn’t retreat. His three shadows merged back into one as he met Xiao Ruofeng’s “Heaven” strike.
This strike was supremely magnificent, carrying an unmatched radiance.
Yet to Su Changhe, this strike seemed hollow and pale. Though it carried the grandeur of encompassing all things, the sword’s intent contained too much benevolence and magnanimity, lacking the true killing intent needed to take a life. Such a sword, he did not fear.
Because in the “Heaven” that people saw, there had never been a place for someone like him.
With a “ding,” Xiao Ruofeng opened his eyes. His figure crossed paths with Su Changhe.
Both men landed.
Su Changhe was unharmed, but glancing back, he saw that Mu Qingyang had completely lost consciousness, no longer able to fight.
Xiao Ruofeng’s sleeve had been destroyed, and the Haoque sword in his hand continued to vibrate as if warning him of the danger of that previous exchange.
“Your sword strike kills the heart of men, capable of dispelling a swordsman’s killing intent,” Su Changhe sneered, “But I’m different.”
Xiao Ruofeng looked at the Haoque sword in his hand: “Indeed. After all, no single sword strike can truly encompass all of heaven.”
With a “crack,” the door of the carved pavilion was reduced to splinters.
A woman in plain clothes, holding a long sword, walked in from outside. Her posture was straight as a sword, her gaze sharp as a sword, her voice stern like a sword: “Running out alone to drink—do you still think you’re that willful prince?”
Xiao Ruofeng raised his head slightly, smiling: “Sister Xinyue.”
Su Changhe gripped his dagger tightly: “The Four Guardians of Tianqi, the Azure Dragon Envoy.”
“I knew the Dark River people came to Tianqi City for no good reason. You’re not like Su Muyu—Hanyi told me, when seeing you, don’t hesitate, just kill!” Li Xinyue spoke no more, directly launching a sword strike at Su Changhe.
Su Changhe felt a chill throughout his body. At that moment, he felt that every inch of the carved pavilion was filled with swords—swords in front, swords behind, swords overhead, swords underfoot, even the wine’s fragrance seemed filled with sword intent. He seemed to have entered a world of nothing but swords, and all those sword points had but one purpose.
To kill him.
It was an even more extreme killing intent than his own.
This was the “Heart Sword Myriad” of the Sword Heart Tomb.
Su Changhe roared: “Break!” Those sword intentions were pushed back momentarily by his angry shout. Getting a moment’s breath, he immediately threw a dagger at Li Xinyue. Her long sword descended, pinning the dagger to the ground. But there was a thread attached to the dagger—Su Changhe’s left hand swept up, causing the dagger to suddenly spin up from the ground, entangling Li Xinyue’s Heart Sword. With another pull, he landed right in front of Li Xinyue.
“Die!” Su Changhe raised another dagger, stabbing down toward Li Xinyue’s chest.
“Arrogant.” Li Xinyue simply released her Heart Sword, raising both hands.
Dozens of sword shadows fell around the two of them, surrounding them.
“What?” Su Changhe was startled and tried to retreat, realizing that while he thought he had set a trap for Li Xinyue, he had fallen into her killing formation.
“Fall!” Li Xinyue smiled slightly, and those sword shadows rushed into both their bodies. The shadows falling on Li Xinyue made her aura grow stronger, while those striking Su Changhe caused him pain like thousands of ants gnawing at his heart.
He screamed, his clothes instantly stained red as he desperately tried to retreat, but the sword shadows followed immediately.
“Retreat!” A Buddhist staff fell before him, shattering those sword shadows.
Li Xinyue’s brow furrowed slightly: “It’s you.”
Su Zhe landed, gripping his staff: “Indeed, it is I.”