In a hollow of Little Solitary Mountain, beneath clear skies and bright sunshine, two buildings shaped like a blade and a sword stood amid verdant woods. Ancient beyond measure and vast as dragons, they were not magnificent in splendor, yet possessed an extraordinary grandeur enough to make people shrink back at the sight of them.
Between the two buildings lay an enormous pit, densely packed with blades and swords whose cold edges gleamed. They came in every shape and form; should anyone fall among their flashing lights, the result would surely be too ghastly to behold.
Above the pit ran a circular corridor serving as the connection point. Square, sturdy wooden planks had been laid overhead one after another, forming an aerial wooden bridge.
At waist height, two long chains of star-cold iron, each as thick as a fist, had been fastened along the sides. At every moment, they radiated bone-piercing chill in all directions.
Even more remarkable, a branch path split from the middle of the corridor, leading directly toward the mouth of the hollow. Yet its junction with the plank road at the hollow's entrance lay a full twenty zhang away.
When Xiang Yang strolled down the narrow, perilous plank road, he found that the path ahead had come to an end. The corridor leading into the Blade and Sword Flowing Open Edge Gate stood dozens of meters away.
"What an Open Edge Gate. It truly stands aloof from the world. Anyone lacking sufficient martial strength—an ordinary person hoping to study under a master—would have no way across such an obstacle and could only return by the way they came.
"It accepts only the strong, and only the challenges of the strong? The one who designed this arrangement was truly ingenious, worthy of admiration."
Xiang Yang's right hand