Shui Wuhen and the Sword God stood less than a zhang apart. A water droplet shot forth, expanding in an instant, its shape changing endlessly as it spun. It erupted with a crystalline, all-embracing profound intent, as though it could contain all things.
Yet in Wan Tiancheng's eyes, that tiny droplet, unleashed in an instant, seemed to have fallen into frozen time and space, evolving countless wondrous phenomena.
Boundless water vapor between heaven and earth gathered to form a droplet. The droplet was crystalline, yet seemingly solid. It slowly converged, becoming a mountain stream that tinkled as it surged downhill.
Then the stream widened and flowed, converging into broad, rushing rivers that crisscrossed the earth like roads through fields. And those rivers would ultimately return to the vast, endless sea, their momentum rising layer upon layer without end.
That was not all. The manifested water aspect also contained every kind of water intent: gentleness that flowed on without cease, impossible to sever even when cut; fury that brought wave upon wave, destroying everything with devastating power.
The highest good was like water. Water benefited all things without contending, dwelling where all others disdained; thus, it came close to the Dao.
Shui Wuhen's martial path had been forged by observing the ways of water in the world, its foundation rooted in water itself. Though he had later transformed water into the path of the Human Dragon, this strike truly expounded the way of water to the fullest. A single tiny droplet contained birth and extinction, enough to move even the greatest masters beneath heaven.
"Good!"
That single word of praise came from the foremost swordsman of the age. It was simple, without ornament or preface, yet it was enough. After all, throughout the Nineteen Provinces, there were only a handful worthy