Chapter Forty: The Sword Rings Clear

The similarity between the two men lay in their equally outstanding appearances, their inescapable air of nobility, and their unsurpassed mastery of martial arts.

With a gentle smile, Shen Lian said, “To engrave words upon a divine blade with mere flesh and blood—among all those present, indeed in all the martial world, few could accomplish such a feat. Since the inscription cannot be altered, Yu Fei, why not let me return the blade to this gentleman and ask him to change it back for you?”

He extended his hand ever so slightly, gesturing for Bai Yufei to hand over the blade.

Bai Yufei understood that Shen Lian was standing up for him, and felt an inexpressible gratitude. In this world, who else would dare to oppose Sword Manor on his behalf?

Once the blade was in Shen Lian’s hand, regardless of whether it was called the Jade Blade or the Shattered Jade Blade, one thing remained true: its edge was so sharp, it could slice a hair in midair.

Its blade was thinner than that of an ordinary saber—so thin it was nearly transparent, as if it could split sunlight itself.

“Are you planning to press the blade to my throat and ask me for a favor?” Ye Liuyun’s half-smile teetered on the edge of mockery.

Shen Lian laughed softly and replied, “Sir, have you not heard? One persuades with reason—but reason exists only within the reach of the blade.”

“And what if your blade should break?” Ye Liuyun’s eyes narrowed, a chilling coldness lurking within.

“What do you think?” Shen Lian replied offhandedly. The evening sun dipped ever lower, and the shadow of the sedan chair entirely covered Ye Liuyun, barely touching Shen Lian.

Bathed in the faint light, Shen Lian looked utterly languid.

The snow, not yet fully melted, lay silent and serene. The last rays of sunlight cast a dreamlike shimmer upon it.

Bai Yufei and An Renjie had both retreated into the distance, unwilling to distract Shen Lian.

Ye Liuyun remained silent. All that needed to be said had been spoken.

Sword Thirteen and Sword Fourteen stood protectively at Ye Liuyun’s side, fulfilling their duty as sword slaves.

Sword Manor’s greatest strength was always its swordplay. Yet Ye Liuyun’s own sword was nowhere to be seen. For a man with crippled legs, no matter how superb his swordsmanship, its power was bound to be diminished.

But to defeat Ye Liuyun, one must first overcome his two sword slaves.

Ye Liuyun’s sword might be hidden, but his sword slaves’ blades were in plain sight.

The first to move was not Shen Lian, but Sword Thirteen.

His sword thrust forward like flowing water, its force seemingly endless.

This strike was known as “Rivers Unceasing.” The offensive was as relentless as a mighty river, impossible to halt.

Shen Lian did not move at all; only a faint brightness flickered in his eyes.

To Sword Thirteen, it seemed as though the entire sunset was filled with Shen Lian’s shadows—he could no longer distinguish which was the real one.

“Standing Form, Shifting Shadow!” Sword Fourteen said coldly.

Ye Liuyun sighed softly. “No.”

The so-called “Standing Form, Shifting Shadow” was a supremely advanced movement technique: at such speed that the human eye cannot follow, a flurry of illusions is created, making it impossible to tell truth from falsehood.

But Shen Lian was merely using his extraordinary will to beguile the mind, not truly moving so fast as to become untouchable.

There was a subtle similarity between the two methods.

In truth, Shen Lian had not moved a muscle, had not made a single move, yet Sword Thirteen had already lost.

No matter how ceaseless his swordplay, it must strike its target to be effective.

He had been struck on an acupoint, and now lay motionless in the snow.

Ye Liuyun’s expression betrayed no concern. The evening breeze lifted specks of snow, shrouding him like dusk’s mist.

An Renjie and Sword Fourteen alone remained calm and unmoved.

Sword Fourteen’s martial skills were not superior to Sword Thirteen’s, but in a fight to the death, Sword Fourteen would likely survive.

His sword was ever steady; he would never strike without certainty.

But this time, whether or not he was sure, he had to attack—for Ye Liuyun to better understand Shen Lian’s martial arts, even if only a little.

Shen Lian did not wish to draw his blade, nor did he want to use the Soul-Breaking Sword.

The Soul-Breaking Sword harmed not only the body but the spirit; he rarely resorted to it unless absolutely necessary. Even with the “Supreme Purity Spiritual Treasure Heart-Locking Meditation,” which could nourish and steady his spirit and break others with his own, to use it too often would bode ill.

He withheld his blade to preserve his own killing intent, not wanting the young master of Sword Manor to discern his strengths and weaknesses.

If Shen Lian’s eyes did not deceive him, this young master possessed a flawless spirit and abundant vital energy. From start to finish, his breath was long and steady, its rhythm unbroken—surely his internal energy flowed unceasingly.

In truth, the man had already laid the foundation to enter the Dao. Even with crippled legs, he was not to be underestimated.

Sword Thirteen’s technique was like flowing water. Sword Fourteen’s was like a stagnant pool, utterly still and despairing.

There was no turbulence, no variation—just a simple, direct thrust.

This single strike had been practiced ten thousand times or more, its simplicity beyond words.

Such a plain, deathly silent killing sword could not be executed through talent alone, but only by relentless, self-tormenting training.

There are countless paths to success, but not one is a shortcut.

Shen Lian sighed inwardly; he almost felt pity for this diligent, steadfast swordsman.

But he could not show mercy, nor would he hold back, out of respect.

Upon seeing this sword, he resolved to draw his blade.

After Sword Fourteen struck, his will was unwavering, impervious to outside influence. Shen Lian’s spiritual arts would now have far less effect, and Sword Fourteen was well prepared.

He had poured all his inner strength into his blue steel sword, which now glimmered with a faint azure light—so fast that he was on the verge of unleashing sword light itself.

Sword light is a union of intent and energy, achieved not through cultivation alone, but through sudden enlightenment, a state between spirit and inner strength.

Ye Liuyun thought to himself: Regardless of victory or defeat, after this battle, Sword Fourteen could no longer serve as a sword slave to Sword Manor.

This sword already bore the mark of a grandmaster. For such a swordsman to be someone’s servant was a disgrace to the way of the sword, an insult to martial arts.

How could Ye Liuyun let a pearl gather dust, its brilliance hidden?

The thought flashed through his mind in an instant.

But the sword was no slower; in Shen Lian’s eyes, the reflection of Sword Fourteen’s blade grew ever larger.

What truly chilled the heart was the unwavering, lightning-swift tip of that sword.

Suddenly, Shen Lian let go of his blade.

That unparalleled, razor-sharp blade.

In a contest between masters, whether one holds a weapon or not makes a world of difference. The phrase “empty hands against a blade” only applies when there is a vast disparity.

It was not that Shen Lian simply dropped his blade, but that it flew from his hand.

And Shen Lian himself vanished without a trace, as if there was no longer any trace of him in heaven or earth.

Victory and defeat were decided in an instant. For the two combatants, time had no meaning; only the shift of will and the clash of blade and sword in that fleeting moment held true significance.

Shen Lian had not truly vanished—he was simply too fast, faster than the blade.

Faster than the eye could follow, creating the illusion of disappearance.

The fastest thing in the world is light; Shen Lian could not outpace light, but he was swifter than Sword Fourteen’s reactions.

All Sword Fourteen saw was a flash of the blade, cleaving the air.

(Thanks to Qu Ye Xiaoxiao for the 1888 tip, Guangyin Hua Fumo for the 588 tip, Futuo Liangsheng for the 588 tip, as well as Guo Junwu, Xun Gaochu, Soldier Beibei, hndwy, Kitten, and Sword Singing to the Ninth Heaven for their rewards.)