"I'll handle Xiongba. After that, our debt will be settled."
Chu Yang's words clearly drew a line between himself and Ming Yue, making her feel uncomfortable. She silently nodded.
Nie Feng sighed in regret. To him, Chu Yang was a true friend, and if he had only listened to his advice, things might not have turned out this way.
"When do you plan to act?"
"In a few days, when the Sword Saint arrives. Then, we'll act together."
"You plan to fight Xiongba and the Sword Saint at the same time? Ayang, I know your martial arts are formidable, but that's still too reckless."
"The Sword Saint's fate is already sealed. He can only unleash one final sword strike. I want to witness that last strike."
Understanding Chu Yang's intent, Nie Feng and Ming Yue stopped trying to dissuade him and prepared to leave Tian Xia Hui.
Before their departure, Chu Yang handed Nie Feng the Snow-Drinking Blade and a manuscript of the Six Cold Dominance Techniques. "I found these in Lingyun Cave. They belong to your family."
Nie Feng solemnly accepted them, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Years ago, he had watched his father get dragged into Lingyun Cave by the Fire Qilin.
Now, seeing these items, he could finally confirm his father's fate.
"No need for words of gratitude. I hope I can repay this favor one day."
Nie Feng clasped his hands together, his gaze firm.
Having given what needed to be given, Chu Yang left before them, his figure vanishing into the night.
Nie Feng held Ming Yue's hand and left Tian Xia Hui without taking anything from Feng Shen Hall.
A few days later.
Dugu Jian Sheng of Wushuang City suddenly appeared in Tian Xia Hui, declaring that he would fight Xiongba in seven days.
Even without Duan Lang delivering the message, other members of Wushuang City had pleaded with him to come forward and seek justice.
Proud as ever, Xiongba naturally accepted the challenge.
Jian Sheng left, satisfied.
The impending battle shook the entire martial world. All eyes were on this duel.
As Jian Sheng departed, Chu Yang quietly followed.
He knew Jian Sheng was going to find Wuming.
Before long, Wuming's disciple, Jianchen, appeared, and the two clashed. Chu Yang hid in the distance, observing their swordsmanship.
Jian Sheng had yet to master Sword Twenty-Three of the Sacred Spirit Sword Style. His strikes from Sword One to Sword Twenty-Two were flawlessly countered by Jianchen's Mysterious Sword Style move—[Name Unheard].
This technique was the culmination of Wuming's years of dueling Jian Sheng and had been passed down to Jianchen. It wasn't that Jianchen was stronger—it was simply the result of experience.
Both sword styles were excellent, but what Chu Yang truly wanted to see was Sword Twenty-Three and Wuming's Myriad Swords Return to One.
After his defeat, Jian Sheng laughed heartily, accepting the loss with ease. Despite being utterly bested, he held no resentment toward Jianchen.
Having fought, they formed an understanding, and Jianchen soon led Jian Sheng to meet his master, Wuming.
Naturally, Chu Yang followed.
As night fell.
The two entered a small courtyard.
From afar, Chu Yang heard the sorrowful strains of an erhu, its mournful melody enough to bring tears to anyone who listened.
Having confirmed Wuming's location, Chu Yang prepared to leave when a deep, weathered voice suddenly reached his ears.
"Young friend, since you're here, why not come in and have a seat? Allow me to be a proper host."
Chu Yang had been exceedingly cautious, using both magic and ninja techniques to conceal himself—most martial artists wouldn't have detected his presence.
Yet, Wuming still found him.
This only proved the terrifying might of the Heavenly Sword Realm.
If not for the world's power level restrictions, these people might truly be able to challenge the captains from the world of Soul Reapers.
Seeing no point in hiding any longer, Chu Yang stepped out of the shadows and entered the courtyard.
Inside, Wuming sat at a table laden with food and wine, facing Jian Sheng. Jianchen stood nearby, clutching the Hero Sword.
Both looked at Chu Yang in surprise.
Wuming smiled and said, "This person has been tailing the two of you all the way here."
The Sword Saint's expression darkened. He hadn't noticed anyone following him, which was simply impossible given his martial prowess.
When he looked at Chu Yang again, he found that the other party appeared very young—perhaps even a few years younger than Jianchen, who stood beside him.
The Sword Saint was momentarily stunned and murmured, "Truly, the younger generation is formidable."
Jianchen, however, was far less composed than the Sword Saint. In his eyes, Chu Yang was no good person, so he asked coldly, "Who are you, sir? Why are you acting so secretively?"
Chu Yang rolled his eyes. Would a bad guy just come out and explain exactly what he was doing?
Seeing that the suspicious figure before him ignored him completely, Jianchen couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. Gripping the Hero Sword in his hand, he leaped forward and struck at Chu Yang.
His opening move was none other than the enigmatic sword technique he had just used against the Sword Saint.
However, with his Observation Haki predicting Jianchen's actions, Chu Yang activated the Dragon Elephant Prajna Technique and flicked his finger with the strength of twenty dragon-elephants.
His fingertip clashed with the tip of the Hero Sword, and an overwhelming force erupted in an instant.
Jianchen was sent flying backward, his Hero Sword trembling violently in his grip, emitting a piercing wail—as if a person were screaming in distress.
Wuming and the Sword Saint both revealed solemn expressions.
The Hero Sword was no ordinary street-market weapon. It was a divine blade, forged a thousand years ago by the founder of the Sword Sect, the "Grand Swordmaster."
A divine weapon had a spirit, and its mournful cry suggested that it was suffering an unbearable torment.
This was not something an ordinary expert could accomplish.
"Jianchen, return!"
Wuming had originally intended to let Jianchen test Chu Yang's strength, but now he was suddenly anxious.
Jianchen, however, was still young. Being sent flying by Chu Yang in just one move was a major embarrassment, and anger burned in his heart. Ignoring his master's command, he charged forward again with another sword strike.
Chu Yang had no desire to antagonize Wuming, so he held back. Using Dragon Capture, he directly pulled the Hero Sword from Jianchen's grasp.
Jianchen, now weaponless, was both shocked and enraged—more than anything, he feared his master's reprimand.
"Excellent technique!"
The Sword Saint couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.
"Truly exquisite," Wuming nodded with a smile.
Jianchen's expression darkened further. He didn't even dare to utter a word.
Chu Yang casually twirled the Hero Sword in his hand before tossing it back into its scabbard with ease. Clasping his fists, he smiled and said, "Apologies for my poor display before two esteemed seniors."
His martial skill and respectful demeanor earned Wuming and the Sword Saint's favor, and their attitudes became noticeably friendlier.
"Since you've traveled far to be here, why not sit down and chat with us?" Wuming invited him.
"Much appreciated."
Chu Yang didn't stand on ceremony and took a seat beside them.
Jianchen, unwilling to even look at him, turned his head away.
"What is your name, young friend, and why have you been following me?" the Sword Saint asked, his tone still relatively amiable, though his gaze was sharp.
"I'm just a nobody—my name isn't worth mentioning. You may simply call me Ayang. As for why I followed you, Sword Saint..."
Chu Yang smiled. "It's said that the Sword Saint and the Celestial Sword Wuming have fought countless battles throughout their lives, both as rivals and as close friends. Before your final duel, you would surely want to see an old friend one last time."
Wuming asked, "So, you've come to see me?"
Chu Yang nodded. "Indeed. I wish to learn some sword techniques from you, senior."
Wuming was about to refuse when the Sword Saint suddenly raised a hand to interrupt him. His gaze turned cold. "Final duel? Are you saying you've already determined that I'll lose to Xiongba?"
Chu Yang shook his head. "Not lose, but die. Senior, your life force is fading—you are like a candle flickering in the wind. You may not even have the chance to strike your final blow against Xiongba."
Wuming looked at Chu Yang in surprise. He had also sensed that the Sword Saint's fate was nearing its end, which was why he had insisted on meeting him, hoping to dissuade him from his duel with Xiongba.
Yet, this young man also knew about it.
The Sword Saint's expression grew complicated. He knew his own body best—if he were not nearing his end, why would he be in such a hurry?
Wuming seized the opportunity to persuade him, but the Sword Saint no longer wished to listen and closed his eyes in silence.
Wuming sighed and turned back to Chu Yang. "Ayang, I am no longer involved in the affairs of the martial world. I'm afraid I cannot grant your request."
Chu Yang smiled. "No need to be hasty, senior. I have a piece of information to trade with you. If, after hearing it, you still refuse, I'll leave immediately without further disturbance. How about that?"
Wuming hesitated for a moment before nodding.
Since the young man spoke with such confidence, he must have something significant. His curiosity was piqued.
"Wuming, your wife died from a rare poison long ago, correct?"
"Yes. The poison was colorless and tasteless. I searched all over China but found no trace of it."
"The poison came from Japan, which is why you couldn't find it."
"You know who killed my wife?"
"The poison was acquired by your senior brother Pojun, brought back from Japan by his own hands."
Wuming's expression, usually calm as still water, finally shifted. His aura surged, sharp as an unsheathed blade!
"How do you know this?" His tone turned noticeably colder.
"If not for your intervention, Sword Wisdom would have passed down Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Sect to Pojun. He has harbored this grudge against you ever since."
Chu Yang didn't answer Wuming's question directly. Instead, he stated outright the reason why Pojun had targeted his wife.
Wuming was well aware of this history.
Overcome with fury, he trembled as killing intent burst from his body. The table before them was instantly reduced to dust by his sword aura.
The Sword Saint remained silent, his thoughts drifting toward Japan—where he, too, had once loved a woman.
But in the end, he severed all ties, nearly forgetting her face and voice.
After venting his emotions, Wuming took a deep breath, regaining his composure. It took a while before his expression finally settled.
"If this information is true, then it is indeed worth my intervention."
Wuming had regained his usual tranquility.
"It's easy to verify. Pojun will soon seek you out. When that time comes, you can confront him yourself."
"But before that, senior, would you be willing to teach me a few moves?"
"Consider it as collecting a bit of interest first."
Chu Yang stood up, an imposing aura pressing toward Wuming.
He deeply respected Wuming—just as he respected Zhang Sanfeng. He had already exercised the utmost restraint.
If it were someone like Emperor Shitian or Jue Wushen, he would have already started fighting, beating them beyond recognition.
Since Chu Yang had mentioned Pojun as the culprit, Wuming already believed it to be at least seventy to eighty percent true.
Thus, he agreed to Chu Yang's request.
"Follow me to the forest outside town."
With that, Wuming calmly rose and walked out.
Jianchen suddenly blocked his way, anxiously saying, "Master, you haven't fought in years—why break your vow for this scoundrel?"
Wuming frowned but still patted Jianchen's shoulder. "Chen'er, you know this has always been a demon in my heart. Now that I have the chance to settle it, I should be grateful to this young man."
Jianchen muttered, "Master, this man's background is unclear. His words may not be trustworthy."
"I have my own judgment." Wuming pushed past him and left.
Chu Yang smirked at Jianchen. In a half-joking tone, he said, "If you ever turn into a scoundrel, I'll kill you myself. Seniors, bear witness."
Jianchen shivered involuntarily.
Wuming glanced at Chu Yang with a puzzled expression. The disciple I chose to inherit the Hero Sword—how could he ever become a scoundrel?
The Sword Saint laughed heartily. "You dare say such things in front of Wuming? I like you, kid! Just don't lose too badly."
Chu Yang smiled. "I'll make sure to fulfill your wish."
A short while later.
The group arrived at a forest.
With no one around, they could fight freely without harming bystanders.
As the elder, Wuming maintained his dignity. He gestured for Chu Yang to attack first and said, "You're younger. After three moves, I will counterattack."
"In that case, I won't hold back."
Chu Yang grasped at the air, and a crimson sword materialized in his hand. Its scorching heat caused the night air to flare with intensity.
It was the Fire Qilin Sword, which he had retrieved from Lingyun Cave.
Wuming's eyes narrowed. That sword had appeared in Chu Yang's hand in an instant, and he hadn't seen how it was done.
(Support me and read additional chapters on my Patreon: p@treon.com/craxxtranslation. Thanks!)