“Yes, Master Xuan—we have been waiting for you eagerly,” the leader said coldly.
“Why only five?” he asked.
“Four men are guarding the imperial palace; our eldest brother Su Xingyue is stationed at the west gate. We know every move you make. If you wish to see him, you must first pass through our presence,” one of them declared. The five of them advanced toward him with imposing strides, their formidable presence forcing the mystic master to take three steps back.
A silver glow erupted as the swords in the five hands gleamed with a luminous sheen. “Saint Swordsmen!” cried the master sorcerer.
“Yes, the Emperor summoned us from across the continent, offering substantial rewards and promising to let us witness the greatest martial artists in the world. We have waited three full years for this day,” they replied.
“I didn’t expect him to be fully prepared three years ago. It seems you’ll have to deal with more than just me,” said Master Xuan.
“Yes, General. As soon as you arrive, even if the Qingxuan State Preceptor possesses divine powers, he will have no choice but to surrender. Master Liushui once said that together, the two of you would be invincible—regrettably, the Qingxuan State Preceptor is far away,” they sneered.
The more Xuan Shi listened, the more alarmed he became. This man, known as the “Heavenly Master,” had been sought after extensively by both him and Qingxuan; they had heard he possessed extraordinary, almost divine abilities. To his astonishment, he was actually right beside Xiao Wuji.
“Divine will!” the master sighed, a fierce aura of killing intent rising from him as rain poured down in all directions. He advanced with his sword, his desire to kill burning fiercely.
When faced with such formidable opponents, one must strike decisively; otherwise, it would leave Qingxuan with endless troubles. The number of holy swordsmen across the Magic Continent is exceedingly limited—his own Order of Holy Knights numbers merely two. Yet, five individuals suddenly appeared before him.
I’d heard about the reputation of the “Ten Swords of the Imperial Capital” before, but I never imagined they were actually Sacred Swordsmen.
As the sword blades clashed, the mystic master let out a soft rebuke. The Black Iron Sword radiated a intense silver glow that surpassed any sword held by the five of them; that gentle command suddenly resonated like thunder in their ears.
The five warriors scattered in all directions as a silver sword pierced their formation. Demonstrating exceptional skill and courage, the master sorcerer’s move disrupted their plan—unbeknownst to them, he dared to engage the five Sacred Swordsmen head-on.
“The One Sword of Xuantian transforms into ten!” the Master Xuan shouted, his black iron sword conjuring a sea of sword shadows that swept in all directions—all purely offensive strikes. The five fighters moved in unison, their weapons clanging incessantly; they developed the illusion that each of them was enduring the Master Xuan’s direct assault.
As fellow Sacred Swordsmen who typically engaged in five-on-one duels, their complete shift to a defensive stance was hardly surprising. Yet this single move alone managed to halt the attack against Master Xuan.
In a matter of moments, the houses lining both sides of the street were filled with archers. They watched in shock as sword energy surged upward from the center of the street, casting a silver glow everywhere; six figures were swallowed by the swirling shadows of swords.
“Fire arrows!” At this loud command, all the magical archers immediately drew their bows and nocked arrows. Instantly, a barrage of arrows rained down upon the sword formation, making it impossible to distinguish between enemy and friendly forces.
But it was futile—the powerful sword energy shattered most of the arrows into fragments, while a few flew backward. Several archers failed to dodge in time and were pierced through the chest by the sharp arrows, falling to the ground.
Faced with such formidable opponents, they had no choice but to wait and see.
The mystic grew increasingly impatient; prolonging the battle would prove detrimental to him. Though he maintained a formidable appearance, such engagement drained his vital energy immensely. The enemy’s large force was advancing relentlessly toward them, refusing to retreat even after fierce combat. No matter how skilled he was, he would surely succumb to exhaustion.
“The Hundred Swords of Xuantian!” With a swift flick of his wrist, Master Xuan accelerated the sword’s momentum dramatically, its power surging accordingly. He strode forward with great strides, and the five men surrounding him were instead drawn along with him. The black-clad warriors standing in their path scattered in panic; those unable to evade were torn into fragments by the formidable sword energy.
A bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sword formation head-on from the sky, followed immediately by a thunderous boom above their heads. The archers on the roof were utterly startled; several of them were even knocked down by the blast.
As soon as the thunder subsided, Master Xuan shouted loudly, “Break!” The lightning struck his sword and immediately scattered in all directions, accompanied by a tremendous force. Archers with weak resistance saw their weapons fall to the ground; they turned pale, blood seeping from the corners of their mouths, and suffered severe injuries.
The surrounding houses collapsed with a thunderous crash, and shattered wooden fragments flew everywhere. By the time they came to their senses, the master had already vanished; four of the five Sacred Swordsmen had fallen, while the remaining one trembled violently with his eyes tightly shut, blood continuously seeping from the corners of his eyes.
“Excellent sword!” he exclaimed, then fell to his knees and pressed his sword against the ground with one hand. Although he survived, his entire martial energy had been completely dispersed by the powerful sword aura; he lost his sight, and all his cultivation had vanished like water.
That single sword strike nearly drained all his strength. Leveraging the power of lightning, he defeated his opponent with one blow. Realizing he could not linger any longer, he seized the moment when everyone was distracted—his figure flashed as he retreated, choosing instead to charge toward the south gate rather than the west gate.
The pitch-black night, the cold rain—everything was hidden from him by the darkness.
The mystic master drew his sword; the gleam of the black iron blade vanished completely. Several warriors in black hurried past him without a second thought.
The southern gate was now within sight. Master Xuan stopped in his tracks; the gate stood firmly shut, and soldiers on the battlements held their rifles, watching every move below.
“Stop! Passcode!” The city guards shouted loudly upon seeing him appear.
The mystic raised his head just as a bolt of lightning flashed by, startling the soldiers. “General! It’s you!” they exclaimed in shock, never having expected him to have rushed straight toward the southern gate.
“It’s me! Open the city gates!” Master Xuan commanded coldly. The soldiers on the walls trembled violently at his imposing presence and were about to open the gates.
A faint shout rang out: “Fire the arrows!” Master Xuan darted forward, driving several long spears deep into the bluestone street. The soldiers snapped back to reality, each throwing their spears and shouting in unison, “These traitors shall all be put to death!” Thunder rumbled across the sky, drowning out their cries. A man in white descended gracefully from the city wall; his pure white robe emitted a faint glow. Despite the stormy weather, not a drop of water clung to his clothes or hair.
“Indeed, the General is formidable; I have been waiting for him here for a long time!” the man said with a smile. Large raindrops fell incessantly upon him before turning into fine dewdrops that scattered around him. He exuded an exceptionally gentle aura that placed no pressure on him whatsoever—yet precisely this very quality left Master Xuan even more astonished.
“Is this the Flowing Water?” Master Xuan asked, holding his sword aloft.
The man shook his head. “Have you ever heard of the ‘Water and Fire Dual Masters’?” he asked.
“Master of both water and fire? You must be Master Yunshui!” asked Master Xuan.
“Haha, truly living up to your reputation as the greatest master under heaven—you guessed it perfectly. Yes, I am Yun Shui, dispatched by Master Fengjun to guard the southern gate,” said Yun Shui with a smile.
“Water and Fire Masters” are two renowned magicians known throughout the world: Yun Shui excels in water magic, while Lei Tian specializes in fire magic; together they are hailed as the “Water and Fire Masters.”
To his astonishment, Xiao Wuji had actually recruited them as well. The thought of the even more formidable Jun Liushui filled Master Xuan with growing dread; whether they could break through that night remained uncertain.
“Hmph, what does that even matter? When the Five Swords of the Imperial Capital unite their forces, I can still annihilate them all with a single strike!” Xuan Shi said coldly, drawing his sword close to his chest. He felt little confidence in engaging the great mage; the best course of action would undoubtedly be to approach him closely—but he also sensed something was amiss.
“Oh, even the Five Great Swordsmen combined couldn’t retain you? It seems Master Xuan truly lives up to his reputation as the greatest martial artist under heaven. Alas, it’s a pity that you’ve lost much of your former vigor,” said Yun Shui. “Moreover, you can’t afford to delay; if Lei Huo and Su Xingyue arrive, even those two masters would have to remain here.” “Why don’t you include Jun Liushui among them?” asked Master Xuan.
“Haha, even though you are known as the greatest martial artist under heaven, Master Jun would not bother to intervene when you’re in dire straits. But if you can truly leave the imperial capital safely, he will naturally take action against you,” Yun Shui said with a smile. “Although you hold that title, you’re merely a Holy Swordsman; Master’s interest lies elsewhere.” “I see,” replied Master Xuan. Qingxuan was renowned as the greatest mage under heaven, and Jun Liushui was also called the’ Heavenly Master. ‘It seemed that Heavenly Master Jun Liushui was only interested in Qingxuan, who was also a mage. At this thought, Master Xuan couldn’t help but worry about Qingxuan.
“You need not worry about the Qingxuan National Master; first, consider your own safety,” said Yun Shui with a smile, gently waving his hands. The rain on the street surged violently as an invisible force contained the surrounding water, causing it to flow ngược-stream from all directions. In an instant, towering waves rose, while rain poured down from the sky like a waterfall. The master leaped upward, and a wall of water immediately descended upon him.
“Excellent skill!” praised Master Xuan. The Black Iron Sword flashed with silver light as it broke through the water; a massive water arrow shot upward from the air. He thrust the sword forward, its powerful sword energy overwhelming all obstacles in its path.
The mystic turned over and landed on the roof; with a loud “bang!” he shattered a blue tile. It turned out that the water arrow was so powerful it had propelled him backward.
“Master Xuan, it seems you have no way out,” Yun Shui said with a smile. A water dragon emerged from the water; he mounted it and soared into the air, muttering incantations as he went. In an instant, three more water dragons flew forth from the water, baring their fangs and claws as they charged toward Master Xuan.
He never expected Yun Shui’s water magic to be so formidable. The mystic was secretly alarmed. Looking up, he saw countless black-clad mages flying across the sky, while black-clad warriors once again surrounded him from all sides of the street.
“Tonight is truly ominous!” thought Master Xuan as he prepared to draw his sword for battle. Suddenly, a faint whistle echoed from the west; it rapidly intensified in volume, growing louder and louder like a thunderous roar descending from the heavens.
His mind was suddenly startled as a beam of silver light shot out, its deadly aura rising skyward with unstoppable force.
The silver light fell from ten zhang away, and the lethal aura immediately dissipated. The black-robed silver-sword warrior stood tall with pride, his presence not inferior to that of Master Xuan at all.
“Capital Su Xingyue has paid homage to the greatest martial artist under heaven. The General truly lives up to his reputation. My five brothers overestimated their abilities and brought themselves disgrace; as for me, Su Xingyue, though unworthy, shall come alone to seek guidance,” the black-robed warrior declared proudly.
The mystic smiled bitterly inwardly; Su Xingyue clearly far surpassed the five individuals he had ever encountered. Among all the swordsmen he knew, none matched even half of his presence. Yet this man was willing to serve Xiao Wuji—so his only hope of escaping tonight lay in sheer luck.
The mystic drew his sword to his chest, closed his eyes, and regulated the primordial energy within him. Three water dragons soared through the air, moving gracefully without rushing to attack.
“Which of you will go first? Or shall we go together?” Master Xuan suddenly opened his eyes, and the black iron sword in his embrace glowed with silver light as deadly energy surged upward once again.