Sword God?
What a grand title.
Li Qingqiu's curiosity was instantly piqued. Though he had already stepped into the path of cultivation, he still found the legends of the martial world deeply fascinating.
"Let's go," he said with a faint smile. "We'll head down the mountain and take a look."
Yuan Qi let out a quiet breath of relief. He had been afraid that the Sect Master wouldn't involve himself.
Although the Qingxiao Sect housed many experts, only the Sect Master's presence could give him an absolute sense of security.
The two left Lingxiao Courtyard, descending the mountain. Along the way, they saw crowds of disciples and visitors rushing downward. The name Sword God carried immense weight. Even those who had never heard the name before felt an irresistible pull—those two words alone inspired awe and curiosity.
…
At the foot of Qingxiao Mountain, in front of the grand mountain gate, a sea of people had gathered—hundreds strong.
Pushing through the crowd, Li Sijin squeezed her way to the front. Her gaze locked on the man standing across the Xi River—an old man in snow-white robes, hands resting on the hilt of a sword whose sheath was planted upright in the earth. His eyes were closed, his robe fluttered in the wind, and a faint immortal aura surrounded him.
That man was Shen Yue, the Sword God.
Just standing there, he exuded a crushing pressure that made even the air seem heavy.
Li Sijin's eyes lit up. This Sword God truly lived up to his reputation. His bearing alone perfectly matched the image she'd always imagined of a peerless master.
"So that's the Sword God? He really looks like an immortal."
"They say when he was young, he was a killing god. Before the founding of the Great Li Dynasty, when the world was in chaos, his name was forged in blood. He once entered the northern frontier alone, stormed the barbarian royal city, and escaped unharmed—his sword raised the prestige of all thirteen provinces."
"My grandfather used to tell stories of Shen Yue when I was little. Never thought the man would still be alive."
"What kind of weapon is this Emperor Xuan Sword, that even the Sword God would come for it himself?"
"Will Jiang Zhaoxia step up? He's the number-one swordsman of Qingxiao Sect."
Disciples and guests all whispered among themselves. The excitement was palpable. To witness a living martial legend in person—it felt like a once-in-a-lifetime event.
Everyone knew this battle would be remembered in the history of the martial world.
"The Sword God is a true master," someone said behind Li Sijin. "In the entire world, those who can stand against him can be counted on one hand—no more than five."
She turned her head and saw Chu Jing standing three steps behind her.
"You seem to know a lot about him," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"I've heard my father speak of him," Chu Jing replied in an unreadable tone. "The Sword God was the lifelong obsession of the founding emperor. But despite countless offers of power and wealth, he never bent to authority."
Li Sijin frowned slightly. "The founding emperor just let him go? Didn't send soldiers after him?"
"For anyone else, he might have," Chu Jing said with a shake of his head. "But not for Shen Yue. The emperor couldn't bear to. And even if he did send troops, they couldn't have stopped him."
Intrigued, Li Sijin asked several more questions, which Chu Jing answered patiently, one by one.
"Hall Master Yang is here!"
Someone shouted from the crowd. The onlookers quickly made way as Yang Jueding, the Dragon-Subduing Hero, strode forward with bold steps, followed by Wu Man'er and more than ten disciples.
Yang Jueding stopped at the edge of the Xi River and looked at Shen Yue. "Senior Shen," he called, "the Qingxiao Sect does not possess the Emperor Xuan Sword. Who told you otherwise?"
Shen Yue did not open his eyes. His voice was calm and steady. "The Pei family of Zhenyang."
Yang Jueding's face darkened. He realized there was no way to talk his way out of this now.
"In that case," he said solemnly, "please grant me your guidance, Senior."
He raised his arm slightly. His cultivation had reached the third layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm. Though newer talents like Xue Jin had surpassed him in some aspects, Yang Jueding was still confident in his strength. Even facing the legendary Sword God, he believed he could hold his own.
Finally, Shen Yue opened his eyes. They were ancient and tranquil—like two bottomless wells that seemed to reflect the rise and fall of a thousand lifetimes.
"Make your move," he said faintly.
That single, flat sentence made Yang Jueding's chest tighten with indignation. But he didn't hesitate. He leaped forward, his palm surging with power.
Against the Sword God, he didn't dare hold back. He unleashed his full strength—the Nine Heavens Divine Palm roared forth, its overwhelming power echoing like tigers and dragons across the valley. The shockwave made the air itself tremble, forcing the crowd to hold their breath.
His palm strength filled the space between them like a storm, but Shen Yue did not dodge. He simply lifted his sleeve and waved it forward.
A surge of sword intent erupted from the ground, a torrent of invisible blades that tore through Yang Jueding's energy as though it were mist. His expression shifted instantly—then, before he could react, a cold, domineering force slammed into his chest.
"Pfft—!"
Blood sprayed from his mouth as he was flung backward more than ten zhang. Wu Man'er caught him just in time, preventing him from crashing into the ground and suffering another injury.
The crowd gasped in shock.
One strike.
The Sword God had defeated the Qingxiao Sect's Hall Master with a single move.
Shen Yue flicked his sleeve once more and stood quietly, his gaze sweeping over the hundreds gathered before him. He said nothing, but his intent was clear.
He was waiting for the next challenger.
Yang Jueding leaned weakly on Wu Man'er's arm, his face pale with disbelief.
Since cultivating the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra, he had never suffered such a crushing defeat. His confidence was shattered.
Wu Man'er set him down and prepared to step forward, but Yang Jueding grabbed her wrist. Turning to her, he rasped, "You're not his match. Don't boost his morale further."
Wu Man'er scratched his head awkwardly, then stopped in place.
Li Sijin, standing nearby, had also reached the third layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm. Though not as strong as Yang Jueding, even she could tell—the internal energy swirling within Shen Yue was vast beyond measure.
Li Sijin turned toward Chu Jing and said with admiration, "This Sword God really is incredible."
She wasn't in the least anxious—after all, Yang Jueding didn't even rank among the top five within the Qingxiao Sect.
Chu Jing kept his eyes fixed on Shen Yue from afar, his expression unreadable. "He's definitely powerful," he murmured. "His martial talent appears once in a hundred years. In terms of mastery, he may have already surpassed mortal limits. Our sect might be in trouble."
Li Sijin waved her hand dismissively. "Trouble? Not with my Senior Brother here."
Chu Jing thought back to his encounter with Li Qingqiu. He still couldn't gauge the man's depth, which only made him more intrigued by Qingxiao Sect's Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra.
Perhaps today, he would finally witness just how strong Li Qingqiu truly was.
Just then, a shadow streaked over the heads of hundreds, swift as a flying sword, and landed at the edge of the Xi River, directly facing Shen Yue across the water.
"It's Elder Jiang!"
A Qingxiao Sect disciple shouted, his voice full of excitement.
Yang Jueding's defeat had demoralized the sect, but the sudden arrival of Jiang Zhaoxia reignited their hope.
He was second only to the Sect Master—and in fame, perhaps even greater.
Most importantly, Jiang Zhaoxia was a true sword cultivator!
Shen Yue squinted slightly, his eyes gleaming. "What a sharp sword intent. How old are you this year?"
"Twenty-one," Jiang Zhaoxia replied coolly, his tone colder than his expression. Anyone familiar with him could tell—he was already angry.
Shen Yue's gaze softened with appreciation. "A prodigy indeed. You remind me of myself in my youth. From the moment I first held a sword, I knew it was the path meant for me. Since then, in the way of the sword, I have had no equal. Do you feel the same?"
The corners of Jiang Zhaoxia's lips twitched slightly.
Clang!
With a sharp ring, he drew his sword. The blade's light reflected off the Xi River like falling stars. Raising the sword, he pointed straight at Shen Yue. "If you lose," he said coldly, "hand over the title of Sword God to me. How about it?"
Shen Yue's eyes hardened instantly, a fierce aura emanating from him. "Ambitious words, junior. But to become the Sword God isn't as simple as you think."
As his words faded, an overwhelming sword intent exploded from his body. The surface of the Xi River shattered violently, and waves surged skyward.
Even from afar, the disciples and visitors of Qingxiao Sect could feel the oppressive force of his sword intent pressing down on them like a mountain.
Was this still within the realm of mortal martial arts?
Jiang Zhaoxia's eyes sharpened. In one stride, he crossed the two-zhang-wide river and struck with his sword.
Shen Yue kicked up his scabbard, using it to block the blow. In the same motion, he drew his own blade, his body twisting in a blur. Like a phantom, he appeared behind Jiang Zhaoxia and slashed horizontally.
Jiang Zhaoxia reacted with lightning speed. Landing in a crouch, he spread his legs for balance and swung his sword up over his shoulder, blocking Shen Yue's strike from behind.
The two swords collided with a sharp clang. Neither tried to overpower the other; both withdrew and lunged again simultaneously.
Sword energy burst outward like a storm. Grass, leaves, and dust were torn from the ground. Their footwork was so intricate and their movements so fast that most onlookers couldn't even see their strikes—only flashes of light and the sound of ringing steel.
Every Qingxiao Sect disciple watched in tense silence. Not a single one dared to breathe too loudly. The pilgrims too were awestruck, holding their breath as if fearing to disturb the duel.
The sword energy of the two masters spread further and further, creating violent gusts that whipped at the onlookers' clothes and hair.
Li Sijin's eyes widened as she realized Jiang Zhaoxia couldn't gain the upper hand quickly.
Even Yang Jueding, still pale and wounded, was shaken. He had thought Jiang Zhaoxia could easily defeat Shen Yue—but this Sword God continued to defy expectations.
"Sword God…" he muttered weakly.
For the first time, he understood the true weight behind that title. The martial world had countless so-called Sword Saints, Sword Kings, and Sword Gods—but theirs were empty titles, always with modifiers or limits.
Only Shen Yue alone was worthy of being called the Sword God.
Jiang Zhaoxia leapt high into the air, his sword guiding his ascent. He began using the Art of Sword Control, soaring like a blade riding the wind—so swift that Shen Yue momentarily couldn't follow.
Shen Yue frowned. A flash of disbelief passed through his eyes. Clearly, he didn't understand the self-created technique Jiang Zhaoxia was using.
High above, Jiang Zhaoxia twisted his body midair and dove down, sword first. As he descended, he swung his weapon rapidly. Sword qi condensed around him, forming dozens of gleaming sword shadows circling his body like a halo before crashing down together.
The Supreme Sword Control Art!
Jiang Zhaoxia wasn't used to wielding multiple blades, so instead, he condensed his sword qi into substance—simulating the control of thirty-two swords at once.
The moment the technique manifested, Shen Yue felt the terrifying weight of that sword pressure, his expression darkening.
Yet he didn't panic. He swung his sword rapidly, so fast that afterimages overlapped—making it look as though dozens of sword-wielding figures surrounded him. The scene was spectacular. He stood firm by the riverbank and met Jiang Zhaoxia's descending strike head-on.
Boom!
When the two massive sword intents collided, the explosion was deafening. A storm of dust surged outward like a tidal wave. Stones shattered, grass and flowers were uprooted, and even the river's flow was momentarily pushed back.
Hundreds of onlookers—and even those descending the mountain path—stared in wide-eyed shock at the overwhelming sight.
Far up the mountain road, Li Qingqiu and Yuan Qi had just arrived and witnessed the clash from afar.
Yuan Qi's mouth hung open. "Sect Master… how many years of cultivation does it take to have such inner strength?"
Li Qingqiu didn't answer. He too was astonished. Someone could actually fight Jiang Zhaoxia to a standstill?
Even from where they stood, he could feel Shen Yue's sword intent cutting through the air—sharp enough to make his skin tingle. It completely redefined his understanding of martial power.
To be precise, Shen Yue's sword intent had transcended martial arts itself.
In pure sword intent, Jiang Zhaoxia was no match for Shen Yue—but in vital energy, Jiang Zhaoxia far surpassed the Sword God's inner force.
A faint smile touched Li Qingqiu's lips as he watched the duel.
What intrigued him most was this—just what kind of Fate could a man like Shen Yue possess?